#it felt breathtakingly real

[xue-dang]

kaimook crying in the car is such a beautiful scene. it's so quiet, so real, you can see her desperately trying to hold back - after all, she knew from the start that this was the only chance she'd get, that vie didn't actually want her, but to be so close and yet unable to reach what she so desperately wants, to know that she took advantage of that moment because it is all she will ever have... breathtaking

[1980ssunflower]

Started tearing up while literally looking for what pics to use hfdjsk

[satoruxx]

you're sweating when you wake up, skin sticking painfully to your bedsheets as your bleary eyes dart around, attempting to make focus of your surroundings. the room is still dark, barely touched by the slight bit of moonlight that attempts to peak through the closed windows—defiant. it takes a minute to realize that the sounds that are breaking the silence are actually coming from your own throat—breathy, wheezing gasps of terror.

your stomach drops when your fingers grip cold and empty fabric. he's gone he's gone he's go—

"what are you doing up, pretty?"

your head snaps to the doorway. satoru stands there, sweats hanging low on his hips even as his hand remains curled around a glass of water. his hair is tousled with sleep, but his cerulean eyes are sharp and lively.

as soon as he sees the panic lacing your expression, his eyes widen, long legs practically tripping over themselves as he stumbles towards you.

"what happened?" he asks sharply, frantically placing the cup on the bedside table to take your face into his palms. shades of blue dart back and forth across your features as he perches one knee on the mattress and peers down at you. "are you okay?"

his touch sends electricity through your veins—a splash of ice water pulling you away from that painful reverie.

your heart both clenches and soars, the idea of what you saw being terrifying, and yet finding out it wasn't true being that much more relieving.

"i just—" your voice comes out choked, and satoru's fingers twitch against your skin imperceptibly. "had a bad dream."

you think your brain must be cruel for conjuring up a dream in which satoru could suffer to such abhorrent extents.

"oh sweets." satoru's sigh is sympathetically soft, thumb brushing over the apple of your cheek just barely. "it was just a nightmare."

"i know," you swallow, voice shaking. there's an uncharacteristic wetness pooling at your waterline. "i-it just felt so real."

"baby..." satoru immediately pulls you against the steady planes of his chest, thick arms snaking around your waist to eliminate any measly amount of distance between you two. you prop your chin on his shoulder, sighing as you feel his snowy hair tickling at your cheek.

"it wasn't real, sweetheart," he says, pulling back just slightly to push a piece of hair from your face. his thumb then drags under your eyes, wiping away the unshed tears. "see. you're here, i'm here. everything's all good."

"yeah." you're nodding, unable to take your eyes off of him because he's real and alive and so breathtakingly perfect. "yeah, you're right."

he gives you a lopsided smile, eyes bright and glowing. "i don't like to brag, but i usually am."

you snort out a laugh, missing the way his expression turns pleased at the sound. "hilarious. you love to brag."

"you got me there," he shrugs, grinning as you stick your tongue out at him. the lighthearted banter solidifies the fact that satoru is fine and unharmed and completely yours, but you can still feel the apprehension coursing through your veins. chills run up your spine—you try not to show it.

but of course, satoru has always been able to see right through you.

his teasing smile goes soft, and he inhales deeply.

"was it about me?" he asks, climbing into bed next you. you lay back down carefully.

"yeah," you mumble, watching him tug the blankets over your body and tuck you both under a cocoon of warmth.

"hm." something in his tone tells you he's not unfamiliar with the feelings you seem to be experiencing—his body shifts closer to yours. ocean eyes carefully asses you, deep and calculating and so concerned even as he smoothes a warm palm over your shoulder blades. "wanna tell me what happened?"

the truth is you do want to, because satoru has always understood you better than you've ever understood yourself—you have no doubt he'd be able to comfort you just as well as he normally does.

and yet...

"no," you answer, pressing your nose into his neck. a deep breath in, the lively scent that is so inherently your gojo satoru filling your very soul. "it's okay. i think i'll be fine."

when you shut your eyes, images flash behind them—of bloodied bodies and stitches and swapped souls. yet a chaste kiss to your forehead pulls you back to where you're supposed to be, warm and grounding.

"i know you'll be fine," satoru murmurs, lips tickling your brow as he speaks. you think you can hear the gentle smile as he says it, and your grip on him tightens—never letting go. "i'm right here after all."

[ingravinoveritas]

This past week, I traveled to London to see Macbeth. Everything I had heard and seen about David, Cush Jumbo, and the overall production convinced me that it was not to be missed, and so I took the crazy chance of purchasing a ticket months ago, and it was the first time I've ever gone to another country just for a play.

Ever since I was a kid, I have been going to Broadway shows, and the experience of live theatre has always been something incomparable and incredibly meaningful to me. Seeing something beyond Broadway, however, never felt possible until now. This opportunity arose at a moment when I was finally able to seize it, and now that I have attended the play not once, but twice (thanks to a lovely person who was able to help me obtain a £25 day ticket), I can say that Macbeth was, without question, the most amazing thing that I have ever seen on stage.

What follows is my review/thoughts on the production, and I will try my best to avoid spoilers (though fair warning that one or two may arise, so proceed with caution).

In high school, Shakespeare was something we were taught. It was an assumed part of the curriculum, labeled as a classic. Yet it seemed to exist in a time capsule--a product of its era, and of an English language barely proximate to the one we speak today. We learned Macbeth on the page, in annotations and themes and meter, rather than something pulsing, beating, living. Something that makes us feel. And for nearly two hours in a beautiful Victorian theatre in a little corner of the West End, all I did was exactly that.

I felt. And after seeing this play, I am not the same person on a molecular level that I was before.

Everything about this play--from David's mesmerizing portrayal of Macbeth to Cush Jumbo's wrenching turn as Lady Macbeth to the entire ensemble cast to the staging choices (light, sound, and so on)--is extraordinary. It is breathtakingly ruinous. It is so fully immersive that by the end you somehow feel bruised, viscerally disgusted and wrung out in equally beautiful measure.

It's almost misleading to say that we the audience are simply watching the play, because thanks to the binaural audio design (headphones), we are in Macbeth and Lady Macbeth's minds, and become accomplices to the characters' wicked deeds. When the porter (Jatinder Singh Randhawa) comes on to provide comic relief at exactly the perfect moment, it soon becomes clear that it is a distraction from our own discomfort at what has just happened. But it is a short-lived respite, as we are soon plunged back into the action and the characters' spiraling descent into madness.

In terms of David specifically, seeing him on television or on any screen profoundly pales to seeing him on the stage. In much the same way that the stage is Michael's natural habitat, it is also David's. The way he moves, the way he holds himself when he's not even speaking--which I got to see up close when he knelt directly in front of me on several occasions--is meticulous. David becomes the character he is playing, down into the pit of his soul. He disappears so thoroughly that I very quickly forgot that I was even watching him.

So many people can recite Shakespeare, but there is a marked difference between recitation and what David does. Together, David and Cush make Macbeth and Lady Macbeth feel like the Bonnie and Clyde of the Elizabethan age (only hornier). And the themes the play invokes--greed, fear, jealousy, power--are shown to be themes not of a particular era, but of humanity. David especially is so preternaturally good at making all of that unbearably real. He not only makes Shakespeare accessible to the modern world--an already difficult feat on its own--he makes it timeless.

For the last ten minutes of the play, I felt like I stopped breathing. The evil that Macbeth perpetrates, and the realization that he has not become like this, but rather that this is who he has always been, hits full force. As much as this play is very definitely an ensemble piece, David is the standout. He commands the stage, and at no point is he more powerful than when Macbeth is falling apart near the end.

(On a purely aesthetic level, this is also when David looks most beautiful--the wild hair, the form-fitting shirt heaving with the rise and fall of his greyhound lean chest, and the majestic sweep of the kilt with every frenzied movement. The complete erosion of the line between sanity and insanity, but also showing us how tenuous that line was to begin with. And he is utterly gorgeous while doing so.)

It's also at this moment in the play that we see how skillfully David has manipulated the audience. Where Michael uses a character's emotions much more overtly and aggressively--sniffing the audience out, stalking around the stage, feeling as if he's about to pull you up with him--David is far more controlled. He draws you in slowly, carefully, and it's only when we see the depths of Macbeth's depravity (notably killing Young Siward) that we realize the truth:

He got us. He made us the witnesses to Macbeth's malice, made sure we couldn't look away. And now we are complicit.

If I had to pinpoint any negatives about the play (which is extremely difficult to do), it's that there is only a brief moment where the pacing lags just slightly, and it's because David is off stage for a considerable period of time. The cast is absolutely incredible, bar none, but the energy doesn't quite maintain that high level when he is not there.

Also, from a sensory standpoint, this is very much not a sensory-friendly production. There are several instances of sudden loud noises in the headphones (which I found especially jarring), as well as the use of flashing lights, and considerable use of smoke at multiple points. All of these were more acute because I was sitting in the Stalls (second row), so I can only speak to it from that vantage, rather than from other locations in the theatre. But for anyone who is autistic (as I am) or has sensory-processing challenges, be advised that this play is definitely inaccessible in those respects.

When I left the Harold Pinter Theatre that night, I felt as though my entire central nervous system had been rearranged. There genuinely is no way to be normal about this play, because it is not a normal play. It takes apart everything you know about Macbeth and puts it back together in the most unexpected, electrifying way. It is the beauty of destruction, and no one embodies that more perfectly than David. Even days later, I can still feel the buzzing of my skin, the blood rushing through me, fingertips tingling from some heady combination of arousal and fear. (Or as Dr. Frank N. Furter once put it: "A mental mind fuck can be quite nice...")

The moment the lights went to black, every single person in that theatre was on their feet in a standing ovation. The applause was thunderous, and seemed even louder in the wake of the complete silence that preceded it.

I had sat in that silence--awestruck, captivated--and thought to myself that I could watch this production forever. And I would go back and do it all over again right now if I could. If you have the means, the opportunity, it is an experience I cannot recommend highly enough.

David is truly a master of his craft, and yet performs without a hint of ego. He gives everything he has and leaves it all on the stage. And what he and this team of people have come together to give us is something I will remember for the rest of my life.

(Pictures taken on 10/12/2024.)

[aliciaasky]

It was love

Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Warnings: Anakin is a senator here, not a Jedi. fluff turning to angst, wrong choices (that’s basically it.)

Summary: Anakin Skywalker, the senator of Tatooine, has to marry. Unfortunately, it happens to be the senator of Aldeeran, not of Naboo. He can never grow to love you, can he?

A/n: this is literally my first post ever and I would appreciate feedback + English isn’t my first language so spread love <3

Anakin was fucking pissed. An arranged marriage? He was the senator of Tatooine not the fucking prince that he needed to be married right now. But his parents thought it was a good idea for him to be married to another senator. The wedding was yesterday, and he had to admit, you were beautiful, breathtakingly so. But he was in love with Padmé, and that since he was 9 years old and saw her for the first time. He instantly knew it was love.

Now he had been married to the senator of Aldeeran for two days, and you were actually pleasant to be around, you were nice and friendly and just over all a ray of sunshine. You tried your best to make the marriage work and he could see that, but his heart yearned for Padmé, it always had. He couldn’t possibly start liking someone else, it would be betrayal, even if the pretty senator of Naboo didn’t even feel the same. His feelings were very much real.

Yet a few months into their marriage, Anakin felt himself starting to warm up a little. You always waited for him at home after he had a long day and he was immediately greeted by a comforted hug and a few kisses on his face

“Oh Ani, long day?“ you had asked, cradling his face lovingly ”it’s okay, I made you lasagna, that’s your favorite right?“ Truthfully, you fell for him, fast and hard. He was already your husband so there was no shame in loving him, right? You had thought he was starting to fall in love too, he always reciprocated your kisses and always stroked your hair when going to sleep.

“Ani?“ you asked gently when laying in bed. „Hm?“ he quietly hummed back, “do you love me?“ you asked with the slightest fear in your voice. There were a few moments of silence

“Of course.“

A few more months later, surprisingly, Padmé, after seeing him getting married, started falling for him too. She wasn’t even trying to hide it. Anakin had yearned for her love for so long, he didn’t even hesitate when she kissed him, and asked him to divorce you. She was a senator after all, so his parents would approve.

He felt bad, truly. But he just couldn’t bring himself to love you, no matter how much and how long he tried. You weren’t the problem, there was nothing wrong with you, it just.. wasn’t there. The feeling he had when he had first seen Padmé on Tatooine all those years ago, it wasn’t there when he was with you. Sure he felt loved and sure he felt warmth, but it just wasn’t the same.

He dreaded the talk with you, you were truly a sweetheart and despite not being in love with you, he still loved you. You were always so attentive, so loving and just so so pure.

“We need to talk.“ Anakin started, looking deep into your eyes. “Ani!“ you beamed, immediately running into his arms, ”how was your day?“

Anakin swallowed hard, looking into her eyes. So full of love. “Look, I love you-“ Anakin started “I love you too!“ you immediately beamed as you interrupted him. “But I’m not in love with you, I’m in love with someone else.“ he finished with a heavy heart. He knew you loved him, but hearing you say that in this right exact moment, made his heart drop.

Your face immediately fell, „what do you mean? Ani, don’t make jokes like that.“ you swallowed, trying to laugh and brush it off like it was just a joke. It was a joke, it had to be a joke, you were so happy together.

“it isn’t you.. it‘s me. I never loved you the way I love her. I tried-“ he swallowed “I really did.“

And you didn’t even have to ask who he was talking about.

You swallowed „so it is me, you can’t love me.“ she sniffles “how could this happen? We were.. we were fine! You can’t joke about something like that!“ you said desperate, your pretty face already filled with tears. Anakin just gently shakes his head, looking at you with pure pity.

”She makes me feel things I’ve never felt before.. I’ve loved her since I was a young boy, she was the whole reason I started being interested in politics. She’s my soulmate I just know it. Please understand.“ Anakin begs you and you just sniffle as you trie to stifle your sobs. You didn’t want him to feel bad, it wasn’t his fault after all.

“I want you to be happy, ani. Even if it’s not with me.“ you sniffle and Anakin tears up. You were so sweet and you deserved so so so much better than him. You hug him tightly and whisper reassurances into his ear. He knew you were heartbroken, but you still tried to make sure he wasn’t feeling too guilty.

And boy were you heartbroken. Your parents were proud of you, for once in your whole entire life. They were pleased that you seemed to hold the marriage, they were proud of you for making it work. What would they say now, especially if they hear the reason?

Especially if they see Anakin’s wedding to Padmé and they will know he divorced you for another woman. But you loved him, and you wanted his happiness.

Seeing him so heartbroken made you want to stay strong for him, made you want to comfort him. Even though you were the one who needed comfort, you were the one being divorced for someone else. Someone who was “just an old friend, baby. Don’t think to much into it.“

You had packed all your stuff with Anakin helping you gently. “I‘m just.. I‘m sorry, I wish it was different. I wish-“ the last words hanging in the air, unspoken.

But you knew what he meant. He wished he could’ve loved you. “Me too.“ your face lighting up at the thought.

He sighed, knowing you‘re dreaming of the "what if" right now, in an alternate universe where things were different.

But things weren't different here, and that was painful. That was reality.

You didn't deserve the pain he was causing you, you deserved to go find someone who would actually love you.

When you finished packing, you stood up “i’ll be going back to Aldeeran.“ you said softly “I have to talk to my parents and figure everything out.“

He gave her a weak smile, he hated the thought of her leaving. But it was for the best. "Okay," he agreed softly, giving you a last look. He didn’t know it, but anyone else could’ve seen it, would’ve seen it. The look of longing in his eyes.

You gently take his hands and place your wedding ring into his hands, then she closes them tightly together and give his hands a light kiss “I won’t ever forget you ani.“ you stroked his cheek, your tears running freely now.

He looked down at your gesture for a moment before meeting your eyes, ”i will never forget you either.“ and he meant it, he didn’t know it yet, but he had meant it.

You gently made your way to the door, looking around, desperately trying to burn every detail of your once shared apartment into your head before leaving.

The sight of you, the one he had married, staring at the apartment, trying to remember every single detail in case you never saw it again, was heartbreaking for him.

He almost regretted it, almost wanted to take it all back...But he couldn't, he'd made his choice. And he couldn’t go back, his love for Padmé overthrowing it all.

When you had reached the door, being completely sure that every detail of your home was etched into your mind, you turned around and opened the door “i love you, i pray you never forget that.“ and with that you close the door behind you, leaving everything behind, including your now ex husband.

He should be celebrating, he had gotten what he wanted, he was free to marry the girl he had always wanted, and he wouldn’t even disappoint his parents! So why did he feel so empty?

A few days later Anakin and Padmé married. It was a grand ceremony, Anakin had previously planned it this huge to show his love for her. To show the appreciation for finally giving him a chance after all this time.

But right now, right in this moment, he can’t feel anything. He heard the preachers words, he knows his words about love were true. But why wasn’t he thinking about Padmé, the one standing in the white wedding dress, right in front of him?

“Love is friendship, Love is warmth and a feeling of comfort. Love is acceptance and understanding. Love is knowing that you will be comfortable with this person for the rest of your life-“ the preacher spoke

He knew it was his turn soon, his turn to say yes to the woman he has dreamt of for years.

„i do!“ Padmé replied whole heartedly

Anakin‘s mind drifted towards you, the woman he had left behind. And now, right now, on his wedding day, when he felt his heavy heart over your departure, when he felt the tears stinging at his eyes over the thought of marrying someone else, when he yearned to run away and take the next ship to Aldeeran,

he knew it.

It was love, and it had been all along.

[mothwingwritings]

What Picture Of You The Baki Men Choose As Their Phone Background, Pt. 1 <3

Reader X Baki, Retsu, and Katsumi

I saw this prompt for some other fandoms and thought it was absolutely adorable, so here are some silly little sweet headcanons for your reading pleasure!

Thank you and I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Mostly fluff, some mentions of suggestive themes and spicy texts, but other than that it’s rather mild. Also, it’s pretty lightly edited. No gendered words, but leans towards a female reader.

/)/) /)/) ( . .) (⸝⸝ᵕ ᵕ) ~ ♪ (ა📱ა૮( )ა

Baki Hanma 📱

Lock Screen- A cute picture of the two of you from one of your first official dates. It was at an amusement park and some of the park employees were greeting oncoming guests dressed up as mascots, milling around the front of the park posing with and taking pictures with the newcomers. At the time you were rather embarrassed, the characters mostly flocked to the children that were entering the park, but since there were no children in your party they all buzzed around you instead. The huge, florescent pink cat-suited individual that danced around you commented on what a lovely couple you were, urging you and Baki to form a heart with your hands as they posed energetically behind you, their cohort (an equally bright blue dog) snapping a quick picture of the three of you with Baki’s phone. Though the photo was rushed and a little blurry, you are all smiles in the shot, both yourself and Baki looking both bashful and genuinely happy. The love radiating through that image alone warms his heart each time he glances at it, and it warmed yours in turn to know he cherished the memory as much as you did, going so far as to set it as his lock screen so that he could be reminded of it each time he checked his phone.

Home Screen- A candid picture of yourself on another one of your dates, taken quite some time after the amusement park picture was taken. The newbie awkwardness in your relationship had greatly diminished at this point, a peaceful sort of comfort and familiarity now reigning supreme in your romance. Years of being with another person does that to you, your new-relationship jitters subsiding as you get to know all about your partner, their best and worst sides. With time all their obnoxious or gross habits have long since been laid bare, but you are still somehow simultaneously finding new things about them that make you love them even more. Your love changes with time, morphing from something fresh and new to something much deeper, more concrete, more real. The picture he displayed on his homes screen was taken on a random day at a random time when nothing in particular was going on. You were simply walking in front of him and stopped for a brief moment to look at something across the way. He wasn’t even sure what it was that caught your attention, didn’t even really care, he was just fully fixated on you and how breathtakingly gorgeous you looked in that average, everyday moment. Before he even realized he was doing it he snapped a pic, and he was very grateful that he did. Each time he stares at his screen his heart races, beating so rapidly it’s as if he was back in the puppy-love stage of the relationship, and he falls for you all over again.

/)/) /)/) ( . .) (⸝⸝ᵕ ᵕ) ~ ♪ (ა📱ა૮( )ა

Retsu Kaioh 📱

Lock Screen- Like Baki, Retsu is rather fond of candid pictures. Something about capturing you spur of the moment in your day to day life really appeals to him, his heart fluttering when he catches glimpses of reminders that you have become a part of his daily routine. He gets to witness you in all states of being, and knowing you are comfortable enough around him to be your most natural, unguarded self, warms his heart like nothing else. You yourself didn’t find anything super special about the picture he took of you at the home and garden store. If anything you felt the image of yourself holding a succulent in a death grip, eying it a little too intensely as you debated whether you wanted to purchase it or not, was embarrassing. Retsu begs to differ, and each time you gripe about it he goes on a mini spiel, explaining to you in a little too much detail just how endearing he finds your ‘suffering an internal crisis as you try to find the perfect plant for the kitchen windowsill’ expression. This never ceases to instantly make your cheeks blush bright red at the impassioned nature of his tone. Still, the fact that he can find such ardent moments of love in the mundane is one of the reasons why you fell for him to begin with. You hope to share many more little adventures with him that yield even more random pictures you can look back on and smile, whether you personally find them flattering or not. As long as they bring Retsu joy, you will find joy in them as well.

Home Screen- If the picture of you at the store made you a little self-conscious, then his home screen was enough to make you want to bury your face and cry. At some point he had snapped an image of you asleep on the couch. This wasn’t some cutesy ‘I just fell asleep and look like a peaceful little angel’ snooze either- you were DEEP in the troughs of a nap, completely dead to the world. Mouth wide open with a rivulet of drool seeping out the side, old shirt rumpled up with your hand rested on your exposed belly, hair an absolute rats nest as it messily framed your head, it was the kind of picture that could easily be used as blackmail. Yet Retsu cherished it, beaming down at it like a parent looking at their child’s straight A report card. While you cringed each time you peered at his phone screen, questioning why in the world he would pick such an unflattering picture of you to stare at each day, it crossed your mind that maybe he set it as a joke, or to poke fun at you. That thought was quickly laid to rest however, as the sheer look of pure love that reflected in his eyes each time he stared at it made you keenly aware that his choice of setting it as his wallpaper was no prank. Somehow he found true beauty in that gross picture of you, and that in and of itself melted your heart a little bit. So it didn’t really matter how much you loathed the picture, after seeing Retsu’s puppy dog eyes as he stared at your passed out visage you decided it was fine to let him keep it as his background in lieu of something a little more complementary (as long as no one else was allowed to use his phone and potentially see it, that is).

/)/) /)/) ( . .) (⸝⸝ᵕ ᵕ) ~ ♪ (ა📱ა૮( )ა

Katsumi Orochi 📱

Lock Screen- He is definitely the type of dude to have some kind of dweeby, professionally done picture of the two of you as his lock screen. You remember thinking he was kidding when he asked you if you were interested in booking a couples photo session, but when you noted the serious look in his eye as he pressed the issue, you knew the offer wasn’t a joke. Though hesitant, you found yourself unable to turn him down, and a few days later you found yourself in a photo studio posing awkwardly while a photographer happily snapped away, complimenting what a cute couple you were as he directed you to pose this way or that. Despite the previous uncertainty and slightly uncomfortable atmosphere, quite a few gems were born from the shoot, and you ended up being very happy to have some beautifully charming shots to look back on. A certain picture stood out from the rest, one grabbed just as some silly, random comment from Katsumi made you both burst into a fit of laughter. With his arms wrapped around you from behind and huge genuine smiles engulfing both your faces, you leaned into one other, reliant on each other’s support lest you collapse to the ground into a pile of giggles. It was such a fun, happy capture that it very easily became your all-time favorite picture of the two of you.  So you couldn’t help but smile when you happened to spy his lock screen, finding it ironic that he chose your favorite picture to grace his background, especially when your own lock screen displayed the exact same pic. <3

Home Screen- A spicier selfie you sent him in the past. While there is no nudity in the shot itself, you can pinpoint the precise moment you took the shot, remembering it as one that definitely led to some much more revealing pictures (with provocative text to match). You also remembered being quite proud of the selfie- the seductive smolder in your eye, the way your shirt had slunk down your shoulder, the coy little smile on your face as you bit into your bottom lip, all of it came together for a truly sexy presentation. You weren’t one to often brag about your looks, but that day you worked hard to look hot and it had certainly paid off.  That day had also blessed you with good lighting and one of the best hair/makeup days of your life, so to see the image grace his phone screen made butterflies burst in your stomach, a feeling of elation washing over you with the realization that the effort you put in was not in vain. Though it made you blush a little to see that he had made one of the private pictures you sent him his phone background, there was no denying that it pleased you greatly. He was the type of man that earnestly believed that you were the most gorgeous thing on the planet no matter how much or little you were dolled up, but realizing that he took extra notice of when you put in effort to look your best for him, liking it to the point of making it a picture he could stare at all day (while all manner of fantasies were surely buzzing through his brain)…. Well, it certainly set your heart a flutter, for more reason than one.

/)/) /)/) ( . .) (⸝⸝ᵕ ᵕ) ~ ♪ (ა📱ა૮( )ა

[wingedhallows]

misunderstandings ; remus lupin

pairing: remus lupin x reader | 1k words plot: misunderstandings are best undone ontop of the astronomy tower at night with a cigarette in hand. authors note: i promised you this work last weekend but something came up and i couldn't post but here I am, hope you enjoy :)

navigation

“How am I supposed to focus?” You whispered, mouth in a scowl. His hand was in yours, his eyes focused on the workbook in front of him. The sun lit the yard in warm light, you loved spring at Hogwarts. His thumb stroked your skin, his mouth in a small smile.

“Figure it out, love.” You couldn’t focus on the words in front of you, the letters swimming together in an effort to keep your cool. Your hand seemed to burn, was it desire? Desire for something you couldn’t have.

You knew that Remus wasn’t someone for relationships, he had told you himself.

He had made it awfully clear.

Though the common room was packed, loud music, alcohol in your system, you had heard his words loud and clear. 

“I don’t do relationships, Y/N. I’m not the one for you.”

You couldn’t get over how breathtakingly beautiful he was. His hair was unstyled and seemed to stick out in different directions. The scars which decorated his face was faint, but prominent for you. You knew what he was, you had seen it.

In third year you had caught his friends and him sneaking out, demanding for them to take you with them.

Remus wasn’t fast enough to get away, almost ripped your throat out that night. It still weighed on him, everytime he looked at you.

This secret of his felt like a connection, a connection which wasn’t all that deep, you figured.

The fact that what he did to you, how kind and affectionate he was, was hard. It was hard to not see him in the way you saw him now, to not desire his love and care. It was unfair and frankly, cruel.

“I gotta go.” You managed, your things already packed and you face in a cold mask, desperate to conceal the pain.

“Oh, alright.” He spoke before he pushed his hand in his lap, face in a kind smile.

The astronomy tower was quiet, pieceful. The moon was up, the air cold. The cigarette in your hand felt like it lifted some weight off your shoulders, like it brought you some piece of mind. A tear left your eyes, heart heavy.

You had avoided Remus and his friends for the rest of day, excusing yourself when you caught sight of his brown hair.

You wanted to get away, to not think about the gryffindor any longer, you wished for the man to leave you alone, to not hog your mind for every minute you were awake. You blew some smoke into the night sky as a voice spoke.

“Here you are, I looked everywhere for you.” His face was adorned with a smile as he walked up to you, his hands pushing a cigarette between his lips and lighting it. You brushed the tears away, your gaze anywhere but him.

“You missed some real fun in-Are you crying?” You shook your head, taking another drag from your cigarette.

“No, but you are.” He stated, walking in front of you. He bent down and put a finger under your chin, lifting your head.

“Who hurt you?” He asked, brows furrowed.

How dare he ask who had hurt you?

How dare he be up here when all you wanted to be away from him, to forget the pain he put you through. How dare he.

“Stop doing that.” You said, as you got up, swatting his hand away. He huffed a chuckle, pausing to take a drag.

“What do you mean? Worrying about you?” You turned around, throwing the done cigarette at his feet.

“Stop doing this.” You spoke louder. 

He leant against the railing, eyebrows still furrowed. “I don’t know what you mean, love.” You had to laugh, rolling your eyes as you stared him down.

“Don’t call me love, don’t be kind to me, stop holding my hand all the time, stop giving me love eyes, stop being like this when we both know that it never will be more.”

He took another drag as he pushed himself off the railing, eyes focused on you.

“Who said that?” You stared at him, face angry.

“You! You did, third year.” He let his head fall back, heaving a sigh. “What?” You scowled at him.

“Third year, house party, does that ring a bell?”

“I was drunk.” You shook your head, arms crossed.

“You were sober enough.” He took a step towards you, cigarette long forgotten on the ground. 

“So that’s why you gave me the cold shoulder all those years?” You didn’t answer as his hands found your elbows.

“Because I was thirteen, drunk and not in my right mind?” You shook your head as you looked at him.

“Your words were bright and clear.” His lips twisted into a small smile.

“I was drunk.” You huffed again, looking over his shoulder, to avoid his eyes. “As you said before.”

His hands found the side of your face, his lips still in this stupid beautiful smile.

“If I had known that what stood between us was a stupid drunk mistake I made when we were thirteen, I would’ve taken back every single word, love.” Your eyes found him, your lip caught between your lips.

“I’m sorry.” He said before his lips connected with yours. Your arms found his as he brushed your cheek.

“We should’ve spoken sooner.” You said, your hand still on his arm. He laughed as he caressed your arm.

“Not that you would’ve let me speak a word.”

[samodivaa]

Winter Soldier x Asset!Reader You just returned from a mission—you provoke him, but the tension flicks from anger to fevered desire.

Warnings - smut, smut, he hasn't felt arousal for a long time ;)

Words - 2500

❆⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❆⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❆

Soldat wraps himself in anger, with a dash of annoyance, and at the bottom of it all is an icy center of pure horror—the intensity of this forgotten sensation, not bloodlust—it is pure human lust—his metal hand tightens around your neck.

"I'm sorry. Please, let me go now, please" but the trickling sounds of your pleas makes him feel thirsty for more.

It is not lust or infatuation—this is intoxication, a craven’s craving he can't explain nor control. He looks at your eyes—dainty blend of colors, lips are rosebuds, cheeks have the color of flamboyant flowers. You are Summer, he is Winter.

"Again"

"What-t?" Your voice is bewildering, and yet mysteriously beautiful.

"Beg. Again."

You poorly try to hide your shock. This is an unprecedented turn of events. The programmed machine inside you wants to block that, to scream for help, and the human inside you wants more.

"Please, please, Soldat"

"Fuck…" he mutters.

His eyes are nearly black, the pupils dilated as he pulls away and moves backwards. Winter stays still, but you see a tremor pass through him—as if he is waging a war with himself.

Hydra always plays with his mind, lies to him, but lust is what it is, it never lies—it is real and he feels it, but his apparatus is so rusted that he doesn’t understand what is happening fully.

And it is not only the faculty of love, lust which were sterilized, but also the faculty of imagination—he never imagined that he would do something like that. Now, he involves his mind in the abuse of imagination in erotic matters—fires of lust spring up for the first time and he groans like some baffled prowling beast.

“What is it, Winter?”

He wants to sin with you, to force you to sin with him and to exult with you in sin.

“Soldat?”

He feels the lust’s presence moving irresistibly upon him, a presence subtle and murmurous as a flood filling him wholly with itself.

“I need to touch you, I need—”

A litany. An enchantment. A curse.

He explores you from a distance as he makes several steps backwaters, with his unspoken desire, with the fear that touching you would set him to flame. And you want nothing more in that moment than to prove very much the opposite.

“Do it then”

It's enough for Winter, to hear the soothing whisper of comforting words countering the panic and the frostiness of darkness in his soul.

At that, he makes a harsh, low sound. His eyes exude insinuation and you know it.

You are both alone, surrounded by darkness and silence: and in that moment of supreme tenderness, he starts to transfigure—by his monstrous way of life, this seems—beyond the limits of reality.

He tries to bid his tongue so that he might seem at ease, watching you as you shamelessly undo your dirty cargo pants and shirt.

As he stands silent, watching you undress—you are breathtakingly beautiful as you stand there in the dark, the dim lights letting your skin look ghostly pale. When you make steps towards him, he instinctively tries to make several steps backward, but the wall behind prevents it.

You come over to him and you embrace him gaily and gravely, arms holding him firmly by the waist, his eyes couldn't help, but move down at your cleavage, exposing the flawless skin—dozens of inappropriate thoughts suddenly rushes through his head when you let out a small sigh of frustration.

Seeing his face lifts to yours—serious as he feels the warm, calm rise and fall of your breast.

“Samodiva—”

You suddenly kiss Soldat, his head tilting to meet your mouth, lips warm and mobile as they play against his own in a medley of light brushes and soft nibbles. The kiss lingers, each tantalizing caress is his answer which he is too afraid to say out loud. Gentle, but your kiss becomes deliberately seductive. Settling on his lower lip, you draw it into your mouth and suck at it softly, lips, tongue and teeth working in sensuous harmony as his cock jolts to life and you move your hips closer, framing the hardness.

It is too much for him.

He closes his eyes, surrendering himself to you, body and mind, conscious of nothing in the world but the dark pressure of both your hands and softly parting lips—his flesh shrinking from what it dreads and responds to the stimulus of your touch, his long forgotten sexual needs—purely a reflex action of the nervous system.

You catch yourself staring at the sensual curve of his lips, the impressive cut of his jaw, devouring every part of him with eyes.

And then, weakness, confusion and inexperience fall from him in that moment—your eyes bright with brutish joy meets his—ferocity burns in his gaze promising something primal—your soul shriveled up as he snatches you up around the waist and sits you on the metal table nearby.

You are in his hands—you have to comply.

It is the impatience of the way he tears your panties and bra from your body that really scares you: the lust getting the better of him and you spread your legs wide, exposing your overall and the fragrance of the essences permits in the air, he can smell it.

Reaching out, he grabs your chin

“Have you done this with the others?”

His human fingers dig into the skin, forcing a whimper from your parted lips.

Holding you in place, he awaits for a response

“Yes-s” your voice is quiet, almost lost in the helpless darkness of his presence.

Soldat haltes, blue eyes frosting.

He slams his metal fist down on the table

“I forbid you” he whispers before running the tip of his tongue along your neck, tasting the sweat that has just formed.

There is a stubbornness about you that never can bear to be frightened at the will of the Winter Soldier. Your courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate you, but this time you feel helpless as fear spreads to every part of the body.

The unmistakable flare of jealousy narrows his eyes—there is that infamous control of his hovering on the edge, balancing precariously on the point of a knife, it makes your breath hitch. 

The primal lust, the sheer need to claim you, quickly finding ways to express his sacred hunger to you in animal passion. He relishes that delicious feeling of freedom, the delirium of being human, his flesh is being born again.

This demon is made for you—his dark eyes and possessiveness have you hooked, his darkness frightens, soothes, but now that darkness is lustful—half god, half hell.

Soldat is a wraithlike observer most of his life, but he takes control for the first time and there is a theatrical quality about all this—he is irreparably damaged, but with your scent filling his nostrils there seems to be a some primitive male instinct as his throat tighten with a hunger he never experienced before—it draws him in deeply, imagining that was how hot sex smells.

“Ти си моя” he says low and quiet and as vicious—his fingers, caressing your tights simultaneously, spreading them further apart.

You feel your heart beat faster, your face flush, and your ire rise, you avoid his cold stare, reeling at his words—you are mine—his hands gripping your hair firmly in a show of dominance, making you face him before Soldat quickly delves into a deep and possessive kiss, his lips are full and warm, soft against yours, but the kiss is hard and desperate.

"If Springtime crawls out of the wild mouths of flowers, then surely, Winter crawls out of mine."

He smirks against your lips when you can't hide your moans, your hands slowly snaking their way around his shoulders, pulling him closer, the intrusive need to be consumed by him.

“Be quiet”

He huffs nonchalantly, stalking closer to lick at the crook of your neck as he runs his hands along your sides, the flesh one stopping just below your breasts—but the metal one flicks your nipple with his thumb as he passes it. He rubs in a slow circular motion as he observes your reactions.

You don’t know when he moves his human hand, but his fingers down to your burning sex, separating your folds and running a thick finger over the slit. He could smell your arousal and knows he needs a taste of you—a groan tears out of his throat.

“Be quiet” you want to mock his own words, but you breathe out heavily and hard as you say them.

You thought he would have a clever reply — something to win, something to shut you up.

In a way, you guess he did.

Your hands tighten on his biceps as he inserts a second finger, your fingernails scrape into him, and the slight pain is pleasurable, knowing he is one giving you pleasure—hypnotized by your velvety moans—you are panting, mouth watering.

You keep your eyes open for as long as you can, hoping that your brainwashed, imperfect memory would capture even just half as much as his.

It suddenly occurred to him he doesn’t know your real name, he wants to call you something.

“Snezinka” His voice is deep and guttural, the word rumbling and vibrating against your neck. It caresses your skin almost sensually

“My snezinka” (snowflake) drawls in a voice too playful for the fear flooding your veins.

You moan quietly again, eyes finally fluttering close as he twists his hand just so, delving two fingers deep within your wet folds below and curling them.

You can feel him: his breath coming down on your neck in heavy, hungry pants, his fingers drawing out teasingly and forcing your hips to buck at the motion. With a hum of pleasure, he lets his fingers slide almost all the way out and his throat tightens at the feel of your channel bearing down, trying to hold on to him as he withdraws completely.

Winter reaches between your bodies and begins to unbuckle his pants. His breathing comes in louder and harder as he tries to control his emotions and movements.

His palm runs along his hardened length, stroking himself slowly—

You suddenly pull him by the straps of his harness and he needs to brace himself using the table on both sides of your body—he grunts at your aggressiveness and strength.

A tentative smile on his lips.

“Snezinka…I was not going anywhere” he taunts and presses his lips to yours.

He looks at you with a vicious smirk, as if he’d won something.

In a way, he supposes he has.

His husky voice reaches a playful tone he hadn't touched on in years, decades—he doesn’t know.

Winter holds his cock by the base of it, running the tip up and down your pussy, making sure to linger around your clit.

Your mouth opens and closes several times, your vocal chords struggle to produce words, but your lips simply move in silence, your hands winding through his hair. You wrap your legs, quivering from fear, sexual yearn at a height you never before felt, around his waist, pulling him to you as he poses and you whine, his head creeping in first before his whole penis is engulfed into your wet sex, your pussy stretching around him, he keeps his descent slow and torturous.

Painfully sweet, he moans—

feeling him impale you onto his cock, stilling in you for a moment so you could feel just how deep he is—enjoying how the metal hand grips your waist tightly.

You are not soft or feminine; you are a hard-edged and cold brainwashed machine, crowned in razor wire of hate. For him, you have always been a flower—he takes your thorns as a challenge. Winter will have you scorch with the savagery of his cruel passions and needs—until you are conditioned to bloom in his flames.

He groans, fucking into you harder now, the head of his cock hitting your cervix as your eyes, water up at the sensation of being so stuffed as he gives you more and more—him fuckin you like that flips your brain inside out and turns your cunt to pudding.

Winter leans near your ear, holding your jaw still, with flesh digits, as he speaks.

“Talk to me, snezinka, how do you feel?” he grunts and you shudder, lips pucker from the grip he has on you as you try to speak.

Gasping for breath, you writhe mindlessly in his grasp, only to find yourself easily restrained—all you can do is tighten your legs around him, trying to usher him to fuck you again.

You are annoyed at his cockyness   

That's why you sink your nails into his shoulders, scrabbling for purchase against the fabric, then fisting one hand in his hair. You pull hard on the wet locks, gasping when your violence earns you a particularly hard slam of his hips.

Sin is a lustful state—he actually likes it.

“Do it again” he commands—thrusts grow jerky.

You tug his hair again.

“Солдат-” (Soldat)

And that’s all he needs to hear before he starts ravaging what you’ve just called him—pounding into you, setting an unrelenting pace, clutching him hard as the pleasure spirals up and up.

He hisses, teeth gritting with the sole purpose of making you cum before he does.

The force of his thrusts is making the table quake, but your quiet moans of approval are so satisfying he keeps at it and you starts clenching around him—deliberately massaging his cock, orgasming wordlessly as he continues to fuck you right through it.

He hides his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent sharply as he keeps rutting hard inside of you—your cunt convulsing around him, trying to milk his cock, is making his thrusts sloppy—several incoherent thrusts lead him to come inside, a roar rumbling in his chest.

He wraps his arms around you, and you sink into his chest, marveling at how easy this feels. You both don't accept touch easily, but with him, it seems natural.

Your newfound foundation is rocky, because you make a home in each other’s skin and memory—the damage is beginning to show. You are ready to self-destruct, there is very little left to kill anyway—which makes this tragedy less and more much, much more worse.

What actually led to this situation?

You always help each other undress after the missions, but this time your mind wanderers as you remove the small glove from his metal hand—flashing between images of various memories of killed people and imagined scenarios, you wouldn't have thought of outside of this hazy consciousness—but

Wanting makes the mind restless

He blinks at you, eyes looking perfectly indifferent—and yet, delight in yours; the moment you develop an idea is the exact moment you execute it—you give the hand a squeeze before the chemical desire to taste it overpowers everything in both your mind and body and you bring the fingers to your mouth, dipping two inside

His metal hand is an erotic necessity

—you feverishly lick, drenching them in your saliva, moving your tongue along his fingers all the while.

He suddenly moves, grabbing you by the neck hardly, demanding an explanation.

[pandorasword]

Chaeri as the 8th and youngest member of BTS.

CHAERI'S MASTERLIST

PTD On Stage in LA | Day 3

❒ genre: Slice of life

❒ words: 972

❒ summary: In which Chaeri uses Tae's beauty to her benefit

❒ prompts requested from the dialogue prompts game: “Wow, I really can’t speak, huh? Must be because of how pretty you look”

She was never good with words. She preferred facts: solid, reliable, hard to misunderstand. Words, on the other hand, always seemed elusive, ungraspable, especially when she had to use them in English. The situation worsened drastically when she found herself in front of thousands of people, right after singing for two hours non-stop. What was so difficult about a simple 'thank you'? For her, it was a real mystery. In fact, she didn’t believe a speech was necessary to express the emotion she felt every time. Hearing her songs sung by so many voices, with different accents, but with the same passion she put into them… she was sure it was evident during her performances how much she appreciated and was grateful for everything.

But it should be considered that those who cause their own misfortune should weep for themselves. She knew that day would come. She had all those years of experience and a highly competent team to ignore the inevitability of that moment. She could have taken the time to prepare a few sentences in English, memorize the pronunciation, and say them on stage. Instead, look at that, she had done nothing and couldn’t even remember why

In just a few seconds, all the times she had literally fled the room when she saw the English coach enter came back to her. It was almost like a scene from a cartoon: he came in one door and she scurried out the other, as if her only purpose in life was to avoid that conversation.

She had to refrain from slapping her forehead for being so stupid and irresponsible. She was still on stage, under the gaze of thousands of people.

Tae had just finished his speech. His English was insecure, his pronunciation questionable, but at least he had said something.

That evening, he stood out among the other seven, entirely dressed in red with a mask on his face, he had fun dancing and singing in a costume inspired by the Squid Game series, which had conquered the world in record time. And the crowd was ecstatic. A true show genius, born to capture attention: that's who Kim Taehyung was.

A shiver ran down her sweaty back, a testament to the hours spent jumping and running, reproducing the choreographies she knew by heart for that performance. 

It was her turn to speak.

With an uncertain gesture, she brought the microphone to her lips. Embarrassed, with no idea what to say or how to formulate a coherent speech, she searched the most remote areas of her brain for a foothold, a memory, or anything that could help her find the right words.

Then, suddenly, the screams of the crowd became so loud that they overwhelmed even her chaotic thoughts. Behind her, on the huge screen, appeared Taehyung who had removed his mask. 

And, damn, he was breathtakingly beautiful.

At that moment, a fleeting memory from a few days before came back to her: she remembered Namjoon, visibly irritated, trying to watch an episode of Friends. The younger members of the group were making noise around him, forcing him to restart the same part of the episode several times because he couldn't hear the lines.

Yes, that line she had heard repeated at least five times was perfect, and luckily, it had stuck in her mind.

She turned towards Taehyung, just a few meters away from her. The blue lenses of his eyes shone under the reflection of the multicolored stage lights, accentuated by the glows of the armybombs not far from them.

“Wow, I really can’t speak, huh? Must be because of how pretty you look”

The crowd roared in approval, shouted for the interaction, clapped for the way the boy's cheeks turned red, almost as red as his costume, because of the unexpected compliment.

The rest of the members burst into laughter, teasing Taehyung, while she realized that the attention from her speech had successfully been diverted elsewhere.

What a perfect end, she would have shaken her own hand in congratulations.

Later, in the backstage

“Chaeri-yaaaaa, you made me blush like crazy out there. Did everyone notice?” said Tae, walking beside Chaeri, an arm around her shoulders and almost all his weight leaning on her, partly from the exhaustion of the evening, partly because he loved to tease her.

"Every single person here saw how red you got" Jimin replied with an amused smile before the girl could, taking the perfect opportunity to tease his group mate when he was usually the butt of the jokes.

"Aish" Tae sighed theatrically, faking a look of devastation "my reputation as a tough guy is ruined because of you, Chaeri-ya."

Chaeri raised an eyebrow. “When have you ever had a tough guy reputation?” she said with a playful tone

"Hey, you" a sarcastic, accusatory tone came from Namjoon as he approached the trio, who were dragging their feet, destroyed by now, along the floor, hoping to reach a place where they could sleep for hours. Many hours.

"Don't think I didn't realize you did it to avoid the speech you were supposed to prepare for tonight" Namjoon looked at her with a look that said it all, the look of someone who raised you and knows all your little tricks. 

"Oops?" she looked at him, softening her eyes and curling her lips a bit to look more innocent - which she wasn't - and more forgivable - her behavior was absolutely unforgivable -. 

"So you didn't think for real that I was so handsome to leave you speechless?" Tae had pulled away from her half hug to look her in the eyes, his tone high-pitched.

"If it makes you feel better, I really think you're the prettiest of us all" 

"Ha! Did you hear that, Hyung? I really am the prettiest"

taglist: @alixnsuperstxr | @bts-dream | @enchantingbrowneyedgirl | @ycuvi | @cosmicwintr

[speedycoffeedelight]

An Animalistic Disaster

Summery: You finally realise the truth behind these animals

Masterlist

CH-10 : New forms revealed

Charlie and Vaggie both felt the weird sensation from before. Of their bodies being mashed together and remade. Once the light subsided they were shocked to feel a pair of arms and legs again. And both of them not being so small anymore. Charlie and Vaggie both looked at each other.

Charlie still had her milkish white skin with red hues on her cheeks. But they were less extreme. She now had baby blue eyes. On top of her long blond hair was a pair of horns. Her height had shrunk into normal human height as well. She had hooves instead of normal feet. She was still wearing the dress before she got turned into a sheep. But she could feel a hole behind her dress as well as a tail coming out from it.

On the other hand Vaggie's skin was much darker then Charlie's and she had long brown hair that almost looked black. She also had light brown eyes. She had two antenna's that sprouted from her hair. She did shirnk a bit but not as much as Charlie. There was a eye patch covering her lost eye.

They both looked over to their middle where you sat dumfounded. All three of you were so close you guys were practically hugging each other. You finally decided to break the silence and talk.

"W-who are you guys..?"

You were still blushing from the close proximity of them. It didn't help the fact they looked so breathtakingly gorgeous. Their faces looked really familiar to you but you just couldn't put your head around it.

Charlie took a deep breath as she decided to answer you. "I'm Charlie, Charlie Morningstar. I'm the sheep that has been staying with you all these time" Then she looked over at Vaggie. "This is Vaggie, the moth" Vaggie awkwardly smiled and waved to you.

Your jaw practically fell open from shock. Your brain finally connected the dots on why they looked so familiar. "Wait, wait...you mean like Charlie and Vaggie from Hazbin hotel?? The cartoon show?"

"Yes it seems like it. It looks like we're cartoon characters in this world " Vaggie said. "Can you explain to us why that is? It might have a way for us to go back!" She added quickly.

"Hold on now Vaggie. Let her calm down first. She still doesn't know what's going on. It must be a lot to take for her at once.." Charlie said sympatheticly looking at your still shocked expressions.

"Hold on then, if you guys are the ewe and the moth...does that mean.." you looked over to the animals that came to your room. "That deer is definitely Alastor without a doubt" Alastor nodded his head. " The cat and the snake is Husk and Pentious.." they nodded in affirmation. " Spider is Angel..the puppy...the puppy must be Niffty since she cleans so lot!" Niffty barked happily. "And lastly this squirrel should be Cheeri based on the recent nut event"

"You got them all correct! You're really smart!" Charlie said happily. "Please don't get mad or kick us out. We may be demons but we won't harm you!" Charlie said with pleading eyes.

"Speaking of demons, why do we look like this?" Vaggie said looking at her and Charlie again. "That isn't how we looked like before" she said while touching the antenna on her head. "It must be some kind of new form of ours. Some kinda...human-animal hybrid form!" Charlie answered. "At least we can now communicate with her now"

"Okay, this is great..the animals that have been invading my home for like the past week are the characters of my favourite cartoon show...wow I'm really going crazy now aren't I?" You asked looking around the room and laughing a bit. "I'm probably dreaming right? I'll wake up soon and you guys will be gone"

"It's not a dream (y/n), I can promise you that. All the days we spent together are real" Vaggie said softly before putting her hand on your shoulder.

"Fuck it, I don't care if you guys are real or not" you said finally accepting your situation with a newfound ecstatic expression "I have a lot of things I want to say to you guys" You looked at Charlie first.

"Charlie my sweet adorable demon belle, you're baby and I'll protect you at all costs" you said looking at Charlie with pure adoration, making Charlie blush and look away. "Vaggie and Cherri, you're both a bad bitch and I respect you! Keep girlbossing always"  Vaggie and Cherri both gave you a big smile.

"As for Angel.." you said looking at the spider " I love you and I'm sorry for everything you've gone through. I wish to hug you if I could. I swear if I find Valentino in front of me someday I'll fucking strangle him with my own hands" you said the last part with venom in your voice.

Angel didn't know what to say. It was to be expected that you knew a lot about them. He thought you'll say some simping shit for him as he saw before. He didn't like to admit it but hearing your pure kind words warmed a part in his heart.

"Husk, my favourite grumpy kitty cat. Man, I vibe you most of the time. I want to get a drink made by you someday and get drunk with you" Husk mewoed back.

"Husk said if he becomes 'humans' like us, he'll grant your wish" Charlie translated it for you making you smile.

"Pentious, you're the literal definition of boy failure and I love you. I can't wait to see more of your chaotic self in future" you said cooing at him. 'What'ss a boy failure? ' He was confused but happy with your compliment.

"Now for Alastor...." You said looking at the deer. Alastor smirked as he readied himself for your showers of praises and swooning.

"You're a stinky ass deer"

Cue the record screech.

"You tormented me a lot these past days!Now It finally all makes sense!"

Angel was dying laughing in the background as Alastor's eye twitched in anger.

"But even with all of these, I love your charisma and your unique personality in the show. I love your dark sense of humour and your radio voice. I'm quite captivated by it" you said smiling a little.

Alastor's grin came back. Of course you loved him, he knew that already from before. But that doesn't mean he wasn't offended by the first part.

"Thank you for your kind words (y/n), you don't know how much it means to us" Charlie said smiling widely.

"I hate to break this sweet moment..but (y/n), could you please tell us more about our show...? The 'Hazbin Hotel'? " Vaggie chimed in. All of them turned to look at you. You inhaled a deep breath in. How do you exactly explain to someone they come from a show?

"Hazbin hotel is an adult cartoon animation from its creator Vivienne. That's where you guys are from" you said awkwardly scratching your neck.

"So..is she the one who made us..?" Vaggie asked.

"Yes, you, your backstory, the world, everything. There's only one episode out for now but season 1 is dropping very soon" you paused, letting them take the information in.

"Have I been just a part of someone's imagination this whole time..?" Vaggie asked looking at her hands. "All the things, all the pains I felt...were they not real?" Charlie looked sadly at Vaggie and pulled her closer for a hug. Almost everyone in the room felt the same as Vaggie.

You sort of expected this existential crisis to happen. "No, it's very much real, I promise you" you said as you put your hand over Vaggie's and gave her a comforting smile.

"If it wasn't real, you guys wouldn't be here. You guys being here is the proof that it's as real as it can get"

"Hell, all of these makes me feel like I'm not real either! I feel like some kind of weird cliché protagonist of some stupid wattpad or ao3 fanfics that I read. But that's not true right?" You turned to look at everyone.

"I'm right here, I'm real and you guys are too. It goes for all your feelings and experiences as well"

"(Y/n) thank you..." Charlie said now holding your hand while sniffing a little. "You don't know how much it means to hear that" she said teary eyed.

"It's my pleasure, I should also show you the things that are released. You guys would understand more if you saw those" you said while moving up to get your laptop from the table "Also how did you guys end up here?"

"It's a long story...." Charlie started. "I'll say it this time Hun, rest for now" Vaggie said cutting her off, she knew Charlie still felt guilty for this mess. So she decided to tell it instead. She started telling you as you opened up the pilot episode on YouTube .

"Damn, I understand now. But how did you guys turn human again? Well mostly human?" You asked.

"We don't know either! Me and Vaggie were just,uh,having a totally normal conversation and then we suddenly turned into this!" Charlie said while blushing. She didn't dare reveal what they were talking about.

"Uh-huh....riggght...also here's the pilot episode!" You said finally starting to play it.

Charlie and Vaggie sat next to you on both sides, making you blush a little. Niffty sat on your lap while Angel, Husk and Cherri sat in front of you guys since they were small. And Alastor stood while resting his head on top of yours.

Firstly came Charlie's singing about heaven and crying, which she was a bit embarrassed about.

'let me know when you come back with something creative to call me you sack of poorly packaged horse shit!'

'Heh! That line still rocks' Angel said while laughing alongside Cherri.

Meanwhile Vaggie and Alastor was more keen on noticing every single detail they could find from it. Then the scene switched to Pentious.

'Look everyone, That'sss mee!! I look so sstylish in here!'

'And there's me rocking your shit old man! Hahaha!'

It was then time for the interview of Charlie. Charlie covered her face with her hands beside you, already knowing how that would turn out while you patted her back.

'oh, harder daddy~'

'son?'

This part never failed to make you laugh. Even Husk laughed at this part seeing Angel's confused face.

'Jokes are funny, I made you look sad.. like an orphan! With no arms or legs..with progeria!'

'Hah! Now that was a nice description!' Alastor said before laughing. Making Husk look at him with 'wtf is wrong with you face'

'hel-'

'-lo'

'Hey Vaggie?'

'what?'

'The radio demon...is at the door'

Now this was Alastor's turn. "Ohh, there's my creepy boy" you squealed holding Niffty. Alastor raised an eye brow at being called your 'creepy boy' but decided to just keep watching.

'Oh Vaggie, I didn't know you thought so highly of me! Why I'm flattered!' Alastor said with a shit eating grin as Vaggie was explaining Alastor's past to Angel in the show. "Shut it you pompous bastard" Vaggie grumbled beside you. You couldn't hear what Alastor said but you assumed it was one of his snarky remarks.

'And what can you do my effeminate fellow?'

'I can suck your dick'

'Hah! No!'

You practically mimiced the voices as it was being said. You heard this joke various times already. Charlie laughed looking at your expressions while mimicking. You looked quite adorable, she thought fondly.

Finally Husk and Niffty got brought in. 'Ooh!!look!!look!! It's me! I'm cleaning hehehe...' Niffty said barking from your lap. And Husk sighed remembering how he lost the winning game cause of him.

'You thought it would be some kinda big fucking ride just to pull me outta nowhere? You think I'm some kinda fucking clown??'

'maybe!'

You couldn't hide your giggle at that. "I'm really sorry Husk but it was just funny" you said while giving him a headpat. Husk just let you pet him this time while grumbling about how shitty alastor is.

"Also everyone, notice how husk is the only one without any pants in this episode" you said while giggling.

This caused Husk's eyes to widen as he looked back at his cartoon character carefully. He indeed wasn't wearing any pants. 'Ohh,husky~ I didn't know you were into stuffs like this~' Angel cooed at Husk while teasing him. Alastor's eye brows furrowed at such indecency.

"How come we never noticed this unusuality back then?" Vaggie asked looking at you. "How did we just think Husk not wearing pants was normal?"

You shrugged. "Don't ask me, I don't have a clue either " you said resuming the episode.

Alastor's song began to play, 'Inside of every demon is a lot cause'. In middle of it you looked at Alastor "I'm never going to forget the fact that you slapped Vaggie's ass canonically"

"He did what??" Charlie glared. "Slapped Vaggie's ass, look here" you went back to that time again and showed it. 'Damn smiles I never knew you had it in ya!' Angel said laughing while Vaggie groaned.

'I only did that to mess with miss Vaggie. I assure you I had no other intentions' Alastor said to a very angry looking Charlie. "You shouldn't have done it in the first place! " Charlie pouted while crossing her arms.

Finally the ending came with Sir Pentious getting extremely overpowered by Alastor.

'My egg boysss...I miss them..'

"So this was Hazbin Hotel! Next up we have 'Addict', a music video featuring Angel Dust and Cherri" you said looking at the pair.

"But I want to ask if you're ready first Angel..." You asked softly, knowing what was about to be shown.

Angel's breath hitched in his throat. Cherri gave him a sympathetic look. Angel didn't know how to feel about this.

'I....'

[in-death-we-fall]

Brothers Beyond

Slipknot may never fully recover from the passing of Paul Gray, but their imminent return to the stage at UK’s Sonisphere is going to be an act of catharsis for fans and band alike. Shawn ‘Clown’ Crahan and Joey Jordison open up to Hammer exclusively.

Words: Dom Lawson Pics: Steve Brown

Metal Hammer 218 - June 2011 (drive link)

Editor’s note: The dark lord speaks…

16 Gigantic Balls.

That’s what Slipknot had to have to get back in the saddle after the inestimable loss of Paul Gray last year, and judging by our breathtakingly candid interview this month, their appearance at Sonisphere this summer is going to be one for the history books. Slipknot’s return is nothing short of heroic, and we hope you’ll love reading Dom Lawson’s piece as much as we did putting it together.

But then Hammer’s always been about getting under the skin of things to bring you a depth and breadth of metal coverage that you won’t find anywhere else, and this issue’s packed with the kind of chest-swelling bravado that makes real metal bands tick. From Biff Byford’s frankly inspiring quest to defy trends and stick to his guns, to Mastodon’s rise from the depths of obscurity to become one of the world’s foremost lords of the riff, to our first glimpse of Iron Maiden simply fucking killing it on a world-tour that’s more like a global victory lap, Hammer is all about the sorts of tales that make the musicians we love as inspiring as the music that they create. Oh, and metal in… Botswana? The metal empire is truly growing at a staggering pace – be the first to read and read about it.

And as we barrel ever-closer to this year’s positively thrilling Golden God awards, we hope you’ll take the time to add your votes to the hundreds of thousands we’ve already received. It’s also your chance to win tickets to what’s sure to be the most ridiculously metallic award show in history. I mean really, Devin and Twisted Sister on the same night? Whollee. Fucking. Shiiiit! Just head to www.metalhammer.co.uk/goldengods to cast your vote and take a part in heavy metal history.

Before we kick off these headbanging proceedings, let’s take a moment to spare a thought for the late, truly great Scott Columbus, erstwhile Manowar drummer and an inspiration to any metalhead who’s ever felt their pulse quicken to the sound of a mighty drum. Our thoughts are with his friends and family in this difficult time. Horns at half mast.

STAY METAL..

Brothers Beyond

Slipknot may never fully recover from the passing of Paul Gray, but their imminent return to the stage at UK’s Sonisphere is going to be an act of catharsis for fans and band alike. Shawn ‘Clown’ Crahan and Joey Jordison open up to Hammer exclusively.

Words: Dom Lawson Pics: Steve Brown

When the news broke last December, you could hear the cheers of elation and sighs of relief from the hot streets of Rio de Janeiro to the sun-blistered stone of the Parthenon. Despite having endured an horrific year that had seen them reduced from a seemingly invincible nine-man wrecking crew to a wounded but dignified band of brothers, following the tragic death of founder member and bassist Paul Gray back in May, Slipknot announced that (sic) were going to return, headlining the Sonisphere festival at Knebworth this July and playing a handful of other prestigious dates. The events of 2010 unquestionably pulled the rug from underneath this seemingly unyielding band’s feet and plunged them into a period of mourning and destabilising uncertainty; the endless and often witless speculation of pundits and fans on the internet only adding to the sense that the Iowans’ rudder had fallen off, leaving them lost and directionless. In the end, those who were predicting the end of the Slipknot story looked very foolish. The end of Slipknot? Don’t be fucking ridiculous.

Four months on from that announcement, drummer Joey Jordison and percussionist and visual king Shawn ‘Clown’ Crahan, the other two parts of the unholy trinity of Des Moines miscreants who put the band together in the first place, are in a far more buoyant and defiant mood than many may have predicted after watching the heartbreaking press conference that followed Paul’s death. Speaking to Hammer as the wheels of progress start to grind into action, both men have plenty to say about the past, present and future of their band and, despite having barely spoken to the press since the passing of their friend, both are happy to answer the questions that fans have been dying to ask during those months of sorrow. First and foremost, we have to ask what prompted them to stage their comeback in Europe rather than at home in the US.

“If we were gonna return, why would we not go to Europe first?” states Joey. “It was the right decision at the right time. Europe’s always been amazing to us, especially the UK. I still remember our first show there, on December 13, 1999; I still have dreams about it! It was one of the biggest landmarks of our career so why not go back now? Slipknot is not going to die. It’s a lifeforce, man. With all the feelings and emotions and the passion of one of the people who really helped to start our band pushing us forward, this is how we start again.”

You always seem to have had a strong relationship with the UK; ever since the self-titled album came out in 1999 and UK metal fans immediately embraced what you were doing, arguably more so than in any other territory. Is the show at Knebworth going to be the most important of all?

“The show at Knebworth is going to be heavy, man,” says Shawn. “We thought Download was fuckin’ heavy in 2009, but this’ll be something else. I don’t even know how to describe it, because the UK kids know us, man. I remember the first show at the Astoria in ‘99. I walked into the Astoria and there was a kid in an orange jumpsuit and a clown mask, and he’d paid £85 to have the mask made so he could be me. I couldn’t believe it. I thought I’d achieved everything when I got to the UK; the UK totally gets us. That show will be the heaviest show on the tour by far. There’ll be a lot of tears that day.”

“The feeling right now between all the bandmembers is the same feeling we had when we first came to the UK,” adds Joey. “This is a special event. It’s not like being on tour. We’re doing this out of our hearts and out of respect for our band and mostly out of respect for our fans. This isn’t contrived, some list of tour dates. This is speaking directly to the UK and to Europe. This is not bullshit. People will be pleasantly surprised by what we’re bringing.”

One of Slipknot’s strengths has always been that they’ve been adept at presenting a united front to the world. Even though it’s always been apparent that this is a band full of wildly differing personalities, the whole point of Slipknot has often seemed to be the expression of a single, focused purpose, uniting band and audience in a grand outpouring of righteous anger and joyous energy. As a result, the last year has been a little unsettling for those observing the band, not least because for the first time it has been made plain that not everyone in Slipknot has been reading from the same tight-lipped, thoughtful page. In particular, frontman Corey Taylor has been making frequent public pronouncements that have carried a faint air of pessimism and negativity.

“Part of me is ready [to carry on with the band] and there’s a part of me that’s not,” he stated back in March. “I have a lot of trepidation about it. I don’t know how to feel. I know a lot of the guys in the band are trying not to show that side, and I can’t.”

In light of the fact that Slipknot had already announced their intention to return, thus strongly implying that the band could well continue beyond these few shows and make another record too, Corey’s comments, seem, at best, a little unhelpful. Do his publicly expressed doubts about the future of the band run deeper or is this simply a case of one man’s emotions leading him away from the general consensus?

“Well, I would get into a lot of trouble if I try to speak for people, so it’s important that you print it like I say it, and I’m saying that I’m not speaking for anybody except myself,” states Shawn, firmly but diplomatically. “But in my opinion the majority of people in the band need Slipknot, want Slipknot, have no doubt that Slipknot will continue. There may be people in the band who may have a harder time feeling what they’re experiencing and only they can get over that and only they can make themselves feel that way. Hopefully their feelings will work out, and that’s exactly what we’re doing, getting together to celebrate Paul’s life, his love for music, his love for Slipknot, his love for his fans.”

The last few years have been upsetting for rock fans, with numerous major figures passing away, leaving huge gaps that can never be filled. The loss of Paul resonated as loudly and powerfully as any, partly because he was such a talented and revered figure within the metal world, but also because Slipknot have always seemed to be impervious to the hazards that cause most bands to noisily disintegrate or feebly fizzle out, whether they be as trivial as ‘musical differences’ or as monumental as mortality itself. And yet, despite having been temporarily stopped in their tracks, few would bet against Slipknot roaring back into action at full strength and with renewed vigour when they hit the road again this summer. As another band appearing at Sonisphere this July once sang, “You cannot kill what doesn’t die…”

“It’s always been that way,” agrees Joey. “Our first tour was Ozzfest in ‘99 and we fuckin’ blew every other band off the fuckin’ stage, every night. It was not even a competition. It’s not like we were trying to beat anyone; we were just being ourselves. We toured with Coal Chamber and some other bands that year too, and I recall my friend Dez Fafara telling me that one guy from one of the other bands had looked at him when we were playing and said, ‘Can you see what we got ourselves into here?’ They tried to kick us off the tour, every band did. One show in Oklahoma City we couldn’t fit anything on the stage and they kicked us off the show and we still outsold every other band’s merch! That’s the strength of what we are when we’re together as a band. That’s not ego talking, it’s the truth. It is what it is, and I’m so happy and so fulfilled with everything we’ve done and everything that we’re gonna do.”

“A lot of people won’t know that we were done with All Hope Is Gone, and we were going to take a break like we do after every record,” says Shawn. “That’s why people love our band; we’re not trying to get off our label and make a bunch of shitty records and try to shove ‘em down fans’ throats. We take time off to get physically and spiritually sound, then we get bored and take what we’ve learned from where we’ve been and we apply it to right now and we get busy with art and music, then we come and kick the living shit out of you. That’s what we do.”

Just as the trials of life can never kill a band with Slipknot’s fighting spirit, neither can you replace the irreplaceable; a fact that made the band’s decision to fight another day such a painful one. There from the beginning, Paul made such an invaluable contribution to every aspect of Slipknot’s music, methodology and rise to glory that the idea of someone else stepping into his jumpsuit and mask was simply unthinkable. But there are always ways a means to circumnavigate even the toughest problems, and so the news that Slipknot have recruited Donnie Steele, a member of a very early lineup of the band and a close friend and musical collaborator of Paul’s, to perform bass duties on these upcoming dates has removed a great deal of disquiet from conversations about the future.

“I’m glad you’re speaking with me today,” notes Joey. “You have called me on the first day that I play with my new bass player. I’m starting with Donnie tonight. I start working with him first and we have over 35 songs that we have to rehearse tonight! Ha ha ha! When we headline in the UK it’s gonna be a longer set, so we have to go over a bunch of stuff.”

What made you go with Donnie?

“It was an easy decision,” he says. “I don’t want to talk about my brother’s death, but once it happened, our phones all lit up with all these guys from other bands. I took it at a disrespect level. I was like, ‘No, no, no!’ and it just came to me one night. I woke up from a dream about the early Slipknot days, before it was even known as Slipknot. Donnie was our first guitar player. We only had one guitar player but we had three drummers. You couldn’t even hear the guitar before we hired Josh [Brainard, Slipknot guitarist from 1995-1999]. So I called Shawn and I said, ‘This is the only thing that makes sense…’ Slipknot is a family. It’s a brotherhood. When we started together, Donnie was there. The last time I saw Paul was when I was with Rob Zombie in Iowa; Donnie was there and he and Paul were writing a new record for [pre-Slipknot metal project] Body Pit. I said to Shawn, ‘He’s part of our family!’”

“The gentleman who’s filling in for Paul was very, very good friends with Paul,” Shawn adds. “They come from a school of death metal and black metal, both very technical players. Recently Paul had hooked up with him and they were finally going to do their side-project. Paul was a guitar player and he attacked the bass like he did the guitar, and that’s exactly what Donnie’s gonna do. So he’s bringing more integrity than any freakin’ person who ever thought they had a chance of playing bass in something as serious as Slipknot. I laughed in the face of anybody who thought they had a chance!”

There’s been a lot of speculation about whether Donnie will be performing alongside the rest of the band onstage or whether he will be behind the drum riser out of sight. Can you confirm or deny any of this?

“We still have to figure out what we wanna do,” says Joey. “Will he be behind me? Right now, yes. In the future, I don’t know. Right now, he’s behind me or right next to me and he’ll be watching my every move and I’ll be watching him but it’s not going to take away from my performance, because by the time we hit the stage it’s going to be easy.”

“I can’t predict the future, but I know right now there’s no new mask, no new coveralls, no new number,” says Shawn. “There’s eight guys on stage and the first guitar player we ever had filling in for Paul, because there’s always gonna be nine.”

Clearly there can be no upside to the loss of such a loved and respected figure, but the last year has at least enabled the music world to finally acknowledge Paul as the influential and inspirational creative dynamo buzzing tirelessly away at the heart of Slipknot. It has always been left primarily to Joey, Shawn and Corey to communicate with the press and although Paul was not averse to doing interviews, his relative anonymity within such a populous band meant that he was able to exert his vast influence on Slipknot’s music and ethos away from the media spotlight. Now, of course, it’s apparent that his death has left a chasm inside this band’s furious heart and that these forthcoming live performances present a huge emotional challenge to those who mourn him, both on the stage and in front of it. Joey and Shawn are clearly still coming to terms with the loss of their friend, both close to tears when his name inevitably comes up in our conversations. For Shawn in particular, Slipknot’s return to the stage is all about paying respects and doing what needs to be done.

“Slipknot is more dangerous now than ever and I have the fuel known as Paul Dedrick Gray in my blood,” he says. “I’ve been here from the beginning, when Paul recognized my ability as an artist and said, ‘Just do it, man! Let your thoughts out and don’t let anyone stop you from what you feel and what you think!’ So now I’ve got his blood boiling in my veins. I’m not just playing for Clown; I’m playing for him, for his wife and daughter, his legacy, his love for the band, his love for music. I’m not discrediting anybody. We wouldn’t be where we’re at without everybody. We wouldn’t be here without Corey, Sid, Jim, Craig, Mick, Chris, all of us. But in the beginning, there was this idea that was created by Paul and I. He wrote the kind of music with Joey that just made me want to put my face through glass. I helped start one of the biggest metal bands in the world and I’m not necessarily a metalhead. I’m an alternative dude or an indie dude, whatever the fuck that means. I was on my way to being like Andy Warhol or something! I gave it all up to be in this band called Slipknot and I love it and I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Another major issue is whether or not Slipknot will ever make another studio album. Paul wrote a lot of the band’s music and was an integral part of the creative process on all four of their albums to date, but Slipknot have no shortage of creative brains to tap for fresh ideas. Corey added a dash of fuel to the fires of confusion when he stated recently that “there’s such a huge piece missing now, a piece that the fans can’t even understand. I mean, Paul always was that unconscious, almost lynchpin that held everything together. And he had such a great mind for the music that we created that without him, I don’t see it happening very soon, let’s put it that way.”

Given that it’s clear that at least one member of the band has doubts about the future, can fans truly be secure in the knowledge that their heroes will continue beyond these festival appearances and as far as a new album in the future?

“That’s the most important question you’ve asked so far,” says Joey. “We made this decision [to play shows this summer] out of respect for the music that we made and out of respect for our friend but mainly for our fans. Why would we not continue? It’s stupid to even think it. There are a lot of naysayers and all that shit. In the Slipknot world it’s blasphemy to say we might not continue.”

“Yes, I always knew we’d be back together,” insists Shawn. “Yes, I always thought we’d make another record. When? I don’t know. Is it being talked about? No, it is now. When would it ever be? I have no idea because I’m not a fortune teller, but in my heart of heart of hearts, and with Paul on my shoulder, kicking me in my face day after day, I absolutely believe there’ll be another record. How could there not be?”

Their unerring ability to sing from a single song sheet has been one of the biggest factors in Slipknot’s enduring appeal. From humble beginnings in Des Moines to their status as one of the biggest metal bands on the planet, these men prize collective focus above virtually anything else, and so it has been strange to see signs of hesitancy emerge in recent times. It’d be more than a little tacky to speculate whether Corey’s seemingly disruptive remarks about the future, and his bandmates’ self-evident but skilfully stifled testiness, are merely evidence that the grieving process affects different people in different ways, but it is also undeniably true that the internet age has made it more or less impossible for any high-profile rock band to conduct their affairs in private. The much-debated possibility that Corey is to be announced as Velvet Revolver’s new singer is a great example of this: what would normally be dismissed as idle gossip takes on a level of credibility far beyond what the known facts would seem to deserve. Social networking is the new grapevine, it seems, and Joey is not impressed.

“The internet can fuck off!” he barks. “I have an official MySpace and Facebook, but all that bullshit? I don’t use it. If you want to talk to me as a person, the internet is the worst thing possible. I do get it. Maybe it makes sense if you don’t have a life of your own. But that’s why i don’t use it. I have lovely people around me all the time and I’m blessed with everything I’ve been able to accomplish. I only have MySpace and Facebook to block people from imitating me. I don’t even have a Twitter account. But you know what? If I need to find where a good Mexican restaurant is, I can log on and find it. So the internet does have its uses, I guess! Ha ha!”

Bullshit and hyperbole will continue to make the world go round, but for now at least, all that remains is to get very, very excited indeed about seeing Slipknot again at Knebworth this summer. Anyone who witnessed the band tearing Download a collection of new arseholes in 2009 will be able to confirm that there are few bands more capable of commanding a festival headlining slot, and it goes without saying that the UK will welcome them back with open arms and pounding hearts, but our mounting excitement at the thought of Slipknot headlining a major UK festival again is undeniably tempered by a faint air of nervousness about the backdrop of grief and uncertainty that has coloured the band’s canvas over the last 12 months. One way or another, this is going to be extremely emotional, isn’t it?

“I don’t think any fan ever thought they were never gonna see Paul again,” says Shawn. “So it’s our duty to being it all together; when I walk on stage in tears, there’ll be 10,000 other people in tears with me and we’re going to celebrate in the salvation of music and what brings us together.”

“These gigs are not a job,” avows Joey. “This is more of a cleansing. All of us are going to have the most incredible shows of our career. That’s it. I’m not saying this to promote this. But this is going to be worth the wait. Of course there are gonna be teary eyes and maybe for some of us, behind the masks, but are they gonna be sad tears? No, they’ll be happy. We’re going to be there and we’re going to watch the audience explode and what better celebration could you ask for? That’s all it needs to be. Let’s just fucking rock!”

Slipknot play Sonisphere, July 8-10, 2011

“We’re gonna die for rock ‘n roll!”

Slipknot’s drummer was in Tokyo with his other band, Murderdolls, when the recent earthquake hit Japan, wreaking devastation and leading to many thousands of deaths. Here he recounts his experience for the first time…

“I was doing an interview and a photoshoot in this really rickety building when the quake started,” he recalls. “We’d already felt a smaller quake the day before, but when this one really hit it was throwing me against the walls. My tour manager Roger grabbed me saying, ‘Fuck this! We don’t need this…’ and he threw me over his shoulder and got me out of there! Everyone was trying to get out and we were the last band to leave Japan. We were like, ‘Fuck it!’ We were gonna stay and if we die, we’re gonna die for rock ‘n’ roll! That’s the Murderdolls’ mentality. We couldn’t get back to our hotel rooms because the elevators were completely fucked, so we went and stayed in the bar and got shitfaced. In the end we got evacuated. It was like, ‘If you want to make it back to the US, you need to go now otherwise you’re gonna be stuck here!’ So we finished our pints and got to the airport and, luckily, got on the airplane. Right after that is when the nuclear reactor was heating up. It was a big, intense experience. It was one for the books, I tell you…”

Shawn Crahan tells Hammer about his new band…

Black Dots Of Death

Describe your new band… “It’s a rebirth of Clown, a second coming, and it’s dangerous. It’s the next level. It’s a mix of many genres. I’m done making soft music and now I’m angry again and everything’s surrounded by death and the idea of ‘What the fuck are you doing?’ There’s a moral behind everything; it’s deep.”

What appeals to you about playing the drums? “I’ve played drums since I was eight years old, man. When you see me play drums, that’s the most personal me you’ll ever see. I don’t wear a mask. No one plays as hard as me, man.”

Do you have plans to take Black Dots Of Death out on the road? “The record is out now. Everything you need to know, you can find at www.theblackdotsofdeath.com. This is art, man, and it’s fuckin’ dangerous. But my biggest priority in 2011 is to get together with Slipknot. There will be Black Dots shows, but my biggest priority is to celebrate Paul’s life.”

Will he or won’t he?

The rumour mill has been working overtime as speculation mounts about Corey Taylor apparently becoming the new singer in Velvet Revolver. Or not. Here’s what’s been said so far…

“We recorded a bunch of songs with Corey. I think he’s fucking great – he’s the best voice of a new generation and I’d be proud to do anything with him.” [Duff McKagan, March 2011]

“He’s a guy we’ve had our eye on, but the timing wasn’t right. Weiland was available. He was out of Stone Temple Pilots. It wasn’t like we went and said, ‘Hey, dude…’ He came to us, like, ‘Hey, I’m out of my band. I’ve got time. Let’s do this.’ And it’s a similar situation with this individual.” [Sorum to billboard.com, December 2010]

“[The new singer is] a little younger, a little stronger, a little heavier rock’n’roll than we are.” [Sorum to Noisecreep, December 2010]

“A couple of people have said one thing or another, but it’s been blown out of proportion. I’ve made no comment on that one.” [Slash, February 2011]

“It’s gonna be interesting going into the third record because we’re gonna have a whole different personality as a vocalist. Chances are it’s gonna be a lot heavier than anything Velvet Revolver has done so far.” [Sorum to artistdirect.com, January 2011]

“As soon as we got off the road from the last tour and parted ways with [singer] Scott [Weiland], we got together and wrote half a dozen really great, sort of heavy metal pieces of music. It’s a lot heavier than what Velvet Revolver has put out [in the past], so I’m dying to put out the quintessential Velvet Revolver record.” [Slash to MTV News, June 2010]

“To be continued! Ha ha ha!” [Corey Taylor to billboard.com after being asked directly about whether or not he is joining Velvet Revolver, January 2011]

[geesevillain]

totally not self-indulgent

cw: mdni, gender neutral, yandere themes, definitely not based on argenti, probably very mediocre

yandere knight who is completely and utterly devoted to his majesty. he would lay down his life for HER without question. SHE was his everything; his sole reason to live. he traveled the galaxies for the slightest glimpse of HER, dreaming of nothing more than to be granted the privilege of seeing HER beauty.

he woke with a start as yet another dream faded away into reality. he was so close, so fucking close to seeing HER. his hands tangle in his long locks and he tugs on them out of frustration. he was growing less and less sure of his faith. he believed in his majesty and would continue to do so, but he was growing tired.

"why must you spite me so?" he questions into his empty room. "why must you toy with my heart and mind?" he just wanted to see HER, to finally lay his eyes upon the beauty that was his majesty. "am i unworthy of seeing your beauty?" he didn't care if he died on the spot from seeing such beauty. in fact, he'd happily take death if he could just fucking see HER.

yandere knight who's grip tightens on his sword as he slays yet another follower of a rivaling god. blood soaks his armor and drips down from the ends of his hair. even killing for his majesty wasn't as satisfying anymore. he was beginning to doubt his own faith. maybe SHE wasn't as real as he thought SHE was. maybe he was just as insane as everyone believed him to be.

yandere knight who was too lost in his mind to see an approaching ship. he's jolted out of his thoughts as his own ship collides with a much larger one. he grips onto his seat and just stares forward. he knows he should apologize for doing seemingly the impossible. you two were drifting along the cosmos for fuck's sake. how could you possibly bump into someone in this vast space?

yandere knight who feels that familiar light returning to him once he lays his eyes on you. you were breathtakingly beautiful. he couldn't even process what you were saying he was so enamored. he had always known beauty, but nothing quite like this. if he knew what his dear majesty looked like, then he'd be able to tell if you rivaled HER beauty. that thought felt wrong somehow, like SHE couldn't compare to you. but SHE was a god, so that couldn't possibly be right.

yandere knight who completely forgot his purpose after you two parted ways. he couldn't even find it in himself to spread word of his majesty. SHE was long forgotten in his mind as you plagued his thoughts more and more. you ate away at his sanity as he questioned everything he once knew. he was a knight of beauty, one with whom was utterly devoted to his majesty. so why did he only want to worship you?

yandere knight who finally caught up with the mysterious figure in his dream. his hand grasped tightly onto their shoulder. he knew his hold was much too tight, but he was afraid that they'd disappear if he held them any looser.

"i've finally caught up to you," he whispers. "i would like to see your face, my majesty. i want to worship you and everything you are." he slowly, but carefully turns the figure around to face him. his breath catching in his throat as he's greeted with none other than your face.

he's on his knees before he can even properly process what's going on. he bows his head and kisses your feet. he was going to worship you from the tips of your toes to the crown of your head. you were his everything. his sole purpose in living. he was completely and utterly devoted to you now.

yandere knight who desperately searches the cosmos for you. he was growing more and more frantic as time stretched on. when he had left you, he had promised to see you again once fate allowed it. now, he was beginning to loathe the mere concept of fate. why should he wait for the universe to tell him when and where he could see you again?

yandere knight who breaks down immediately when he sees you again. his knee pads scrape against the pavement as he crawls closer to you. he reaches up and, with shaky hands, intertwines your fingers together. he desperately wanted to remove his gloves and feel the softness of your palm against his own, but he knew he shouldn't. you were a god and he was just your devoted follower.

"my majesty," he whispers. he lifts your hand up to his mouth and grazes your knuckles with his lips. "i've finally found you again." he lifts his gaze up to meet your own. he knows you're probably uncomfortable, but he can't help himself. his heart and soul belonged to you and he wouldn't hide it.

he pushes himself up to stand before you. his grip tightens on your hands when you try to pull away. "come with me. let me worship you the way i should." he can feel you resisting, but he wasn't going to let that stop him. you were his god now and he couldn't lose you. he would worship you until he took his final breath.

[apod]

2024 March 3

A Total Solar Eclipse Close-Up in Real Time Video Credit & Copyright: Jun Ho Oh (KAIST, HuboLab); Music: Flowing Air by Mattia Vlad Morleo

Explanation: How would you feel if the Sun disappeared? Many eclipse watchers across the USA surprised themselves in 2017 with the awe that they felt and the exclamations that they made as the Sun momentarily disappeared behind the Moon. Perhaps expecting just a brief moment of dusk, the spectacle of unusually rapid darkness, breathtakingly bright glowing beads around the Moon's edge, shockingly pink solar prominences, and a strangely detailed corona stretching across the sky caught many a curmudgeon by surprise. Many of these attributes were captured in the featured real-time, three-minute video of 2017's total solar eclipse. The video frames were acquired in Warm Springs, Oregon with equipment specifically designed by Jun Ho Oh to track a close-up of the Sun's periphery during eclipse. As the video ends, the Sun is seen being reborn on the other side of the Moon from where it departed. Next month, on April 8th, a new total solar eclipse will be visible in a thin band across North America.

∞ Source: apod.nasa.gov/apod/ap240303.html

[lavendercharm]

Linger, Chapter 4: Burning Down the House

A/N: I simply had to include both versions of this song - I was raised with Talking Heads but the Paramore version is what I’ve been listening to a lot recently, and what I thought of when naming this chapter.

Summary: From the moment you meet her, you can't stand Melissa Schemmenti.

Warnings: Strong Language

----

Your plan begins with Janine Teagues.

You spend the whole drive home positively seething, so caught up in your rage you nearly run a red light and forget to use your signal on three of your turns. You never forget to signal, which makes you even angrier. Even when you’re not caught in her physical orbit, Melissa Schemmenti finds a way to piss you off. You feel like it’s eating you alive, the pressure building until you’re sure you’ll explode. 

When you arrive home, you storm inside, slamming your front door. Framed art pieces and photos rattle on the wall. Throwing your bag across your living room, you begin to pace, breathing heavily. Your mind races and your eyes dart around your apartment. The one word bouncing around inside of your skull: Revenge.  

The pressure that had been building inside of you begins to lose steam as you realize something crucial: You know almost nothing about Melissa. You know she’s stubborn, loud, arrogant, breathtakingly gorgeous, and impulsive. You know she makes your skin tingle and your heart pound. You know she’s phenomenal at her job and she loves her kids - you’d never dream of doing something that would affect the kids and their learning. You want her to feel as personally attacked and downright fucking inconvenienced as she’s made you. But you don’t know how to hit her where it hurts. How do you get real revenge on someone you don’t even know? 

Suddenly, you’re struck with an idea. Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you send a quick text to Ava. 

Hey Ava. Could you send me Janine’s number?” 

You barely have a moment to think before your phone dings. 

Ew, why would I have Janine’s number saved? I guess I can look through my messages to find her. 

Her message is punctuated with an eye rolling emoji. You shoot her a quick thank you, and it’s only a few minutes until Ava sends you Janine’s contact info. 

You brought this on yourself girl. 

If only Ava had a clue - you knew exactly what you were doing. It only takes you a few minutes to draft your message to Janine.

Hey Janine! Ava gave me your number. I was the sub for Miss Schemmenti this afternoon. Speaking of, I had such a great day working with her, I’d like to surprise her with a thank you gift when I leave at the end of the week. Can you tell me a bit about her? 

Prior to this morning, you might have felt ashamed at how easily the lie came to you. Turns out your moral compass tends to stray when you have your headlights bashed in.

You scan the message after it’s done, reading it out loud to make sure it sounds believable. You don’t think Janine would be suspicious of anything, but you had to keep things airtight. You couldn’t risk her telling Melissa you’d been asking after her. Satisfied, you hit send, and put your phone down, ringer on. You’d know when someone texted you, but you didn’t expect Janine to write back immediately in the middle of the school day. 

You channel your frantic energy into tidying up your kitchen, swapping out your work clothes for a sweatshirt and matching sweatpants, and trying your best to busy yourself in the hopes of shutting off your mind. It didn’t work. 

Nearly two hours later, your head whips over to your coffee table as your phone buzzes. You don’t even consider that it could be someone else as you snatch it up. Luckily enough, Janine Teagues greets you at the top of the message as you unlock your phone.

Hey! I didn’t see you at the end of the day today, you must have had to run! Um, I LOVE surprises! They’re basically like secrets, which I love getting but hardly anyone ever tells me their secrets. I don’t know why, I’m a great secret keeper. (You doubted that.) But surprises are so much fun! Melissa is a really private person, but lucky for you, I’ve managed to crack that tough exterior! She probably wouldn’t want me to tell you about her but I will, since it’s for a surprise!

Her message continued on, a practical master’s thesis of a text. It seemed Janine rambled just as much over text as she did in real life. 

Eventually you strike gold. 

You send Janine a very sincere "thank you" text, telling her she’s given you the perfect idea for a surprise. You promptly turn her texts to Hide Alert . You couldn’t risk Janine’s inevitable follow up messages distracting you. You tied your hair back, sent a mental thank you to Past-You for taking some digital art and marketing classes in college, and put your master plan to get revenge on Melissa Schemmenti into motion. 

—----------------------

You ultimately end up asking for help from an old friend. You’d managed to make decent progress on your project, working late into the night. But once you realized your idea was just outside of your skill set, you decided you needed reinforcements. You gave her some excuse about using them for a collage. After all, she didn’t need to know she was participating in the very real crime you were committing. It gave you pause at first, when you realized that your plan hinged on breaking the law. You weighed your options. Was this revenge plot on Melissa really worth it? 

After you saw how much replacing smashed headlights could end up being, your fire was reignited. 

Your friend had agreed to help you, not a single question asked. Your timeline wasn’t a problem - she’d get you the files you needed well before the end of the week. From there, a barcode, a bit of cardstock and some strategically placed glue, and the key to your plan would be ready to go. As you collapsed into bed, triple checking that your alarm was set for the AM, you couldn’t help the devious smile that played on your lips. Melissa would have no clue what hit her. 

Despite having gotten less sleep than you were used to, you woke up strangely energized. Getting up to no good seemed to give you an extra boost - whether it be anticipation for your scheme to fall into place, or pure anxiety. You wouldn’t let yourself think too much about it. You were in it now, and you were determined to see it through. 

Having woken up on time this morning, you were able to properly get ready for your day. You showered, dried and styled your hair, and chose your outfit for the day - black straight leg jeans, a light short sleeved teal button up, the top three of which you left unbuttoned, and white sneakers. You added some golden necklaces and a few rings to finish off your outfit for the day. On your way out of the door, you were extra sure to grab your lunch - you wanted to avoid a repeat of yesterday with every fiber of your being.

As you drove to Abbott, the seed of doubt in your stomach began to grow into a pit. Were you seriously going to go back into that classroom? The woman had hurled insults and smashed out your headlights for crying out loud. And although you seethed thinking about it, you took note of the apprehension mixed in with the anger. If she has no qualms about smashing your headlights, who’s to say your face isn’t next? You might have thought the idea of another teacher taking a bat to you was ridiculous before yesterday, but the odds increased drastically in the last twenty-four hours.

You pulled into the parking lot, turned your car off, and took a few deep breaths. You told Ava you’d be back - you weren’t going to ghost this job, and not just because you needed the money. You wanted to keep your word, and you wanted to show Melissa Schemmenti you weren't scared of her. Even if I am, you thought. Steeling yourself, you grabbed your bag and got out of your car, allowing your gaze to linger on your destroyed headlights for only a moment on your way in.

You’d barely stepped inside when you heard Ava say, “Damn, you really came back, huh? I’m not gonna lie, Olive Garden, I didn’t think you’d pull through.” She was standing in the doorway to the administrative offices wearing a flowery blouse and dress pants. Her hair and makeup were just as flawless as they were yesterday. You made a mental note that befriending Ava might not be a bad thing - maybe she could give you some pointers.

“Good to know you believe in me,” you muttered sarcastically in reply. You frowned. “And I’m not dressed like a waiter today. Please don’t call me Olive Garden.” Ava simply rolled her eyes, but you could see the smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. 

“Well, you know where to go, Red Lobster. Better not be late again, if you want to see lunch time.” You pressed your lips together, your mouth suddenly dry. The odds you’d beaten Melissa to work were slim, which meant you were walking into a hornet’s nest. Worse, there likely wouldn’t be witnesses if she decided to end you here and now. Still, you’d survived yesterday. It couldn’t get worse than that. Mustering up as much courage as you could manage, you made your way to Melissa’s room on semi-steady legs.

To your surprise and relief, Melissa was nowhere to be seen yet. The door was open, the lights were on, and you took note of Melissa’s things near her desk - so she was here, but the room was vacant. Perhaps she’d needed to make copies or use the restroom - either way, your anxiety grew, alongside something new. You felt… thrilled at the idea of Melissa stumbling upon you in her room. In a way, this gave you an upper hand. There was no doubt in your mind that the woman didn’t expect to see you again. You imagined the shock on her face, the surprise sparking in her eyes as her sculpted brows rose, creating a ripple of delicate lines across her forehead. The enraged blush that would undoubtedly be dusting her cheeks as her mind caught up with what she was seeing. Her leather pants catching the light and clinging tightly to her soft, full thighs…

Your train of thought was swiftly followed by the heat on your cheeks, and you frowned. It didn’t matter that Melissa was downright gorgeous. As far as you were concerned, she was a horrible, hot headed woman with little regard for others. You ignored the voice in your head that contradicted that evidence: the lasagna Janine had given you a clear indication that Melissa cared about people. If you were going to get back at her, you couldn’t acknowledge that she might actually be human. 

You quickly made your way to the desk in the back of the room and unpacked your things, staking a claim to your territory. You wanted to look settled and comfortable when she got here, hoping that making yourself at home in her room would add salt to the wound. Soon, though, you were at a loss as to what to do with yourself. It felt a bit silly, just waiting there for her, and you didn’t want to look like you were waiting for her, even though that’s exactly what you were doing. You internally groaned in frustration, your tendency to overthink everything creating problems that weren’t there. In an effort to look nonchalant, you channeled the audacity of a man as you leaned back in your office chair and stretched your legs out under the desk. Bringing your arms up and resting your hands on the back of your head completed the laid back pose and you prayed you didn’t look as dumb as you felt.

You sat like this for an embarrassingly long time. Glancing up at the clock on the wall, you saw it was nearly time for students to start arriving. Just as you began to readjust your position, you heard the telltale sound of a chunky boot heel on linoleum. Your heart was apt to burst out of your chest and you didn’t even know you were holding your breath, too busy trying to look blasé while also not shitting yourself. You were going to throw up. 

Your eyes are immediately drawn to her fiery red hair as she walks into the room. You brace yourself for a barrage of insults, but they don’t come. Her face is buried in a stack of papers. A grimace briefly crosses yours before you fix it. She was so focused on whatever she was reading that she hadn’t even seen you yet. 

You have to be kidding me, you think. 

As she situates herself at her desk, she absentmindedly grabs a pen from the holder and pulls the cap off with her teeth. Your eyes are glued to the cap held between her plush lips, the gloss shining in the fluorescents. You can feel your imagination begging to run wild and it’s only through sheer force of will that you keep it at bay. She continues to write for a few minutes more and your heart pounds as you observe her, though for different reasons than it had been a few minutes before. 

She plucks the cap from between her lips and places it back on the pen. As she grabs the stack and lifts it up to align the pages, her eyes lock with yours. It feels as if time is frozen. You’re trapped in emerald pools as she stares back at you, and you feel a stirring in your stomach. You have no clue how long you both sit there like that before something switches in your brain. Slowly, you allow the biggest shit eating grin you can muster to cross your lips. You flash her the biggest, toothiest smile, and say, “Good morning.”

This breaks whatever spell had been cast over the both of you, and you see an infuriated blaze spark in her eyes as she slams her papers down. “What the hell d’ya think you’re doin’?” she growls.

You furrow your brows in mock confusion. “I’m sitting at my desk, silly.” 

She grits her teeth. “I thought I told you to fuc-”

You cut her off. “Ava convinced me to stay. She said Abbott is really hurting for subs, and seeing as I’m experienced , she would overlook yesterday’s… incident.”

The attractive flush of rage had worked its way onto Melissa’s face and you fleetingly wondered what else would make her blush like that for you. Her fists were balled and you sat forward in your chair, wanting to be prepared to run in case she charged you. But instead, she bit out a threatening, “We’ll see about that,” and promptly stormed out of the room. 

Your breath came out of you in a huge whoosh as you slumped forward, resting your head on the cool wooden surface before you. You were alive. You might not be employed in the next ten minutes, but you weren’t dead. You realized if Melissa got Ava to let you go, you wouldn’t be able to orchestrate your grand revenge plan. But a part of you felt relief at that, too. You were proud of how you hadn’t wilted under the Italian woman’s fiery glare. You’d held your ground, and if you were about to be let go, you’d walk out of Abbott with your head held high. 

It was another few minutes before Melissa stalked back into the classroom, and her shoulders were nearly touching her ears they were so tense. She pinned you with a glare so hateful, you thought you might actually catch fire. Then, to your utter disbelief, she said, “If you so much as blink at the wrong time, I’ll have you out on your ass before you can say ciao . Capisce?”

You had to fight hard to keep the grin off of your face, so you simply nodded at her to communicate you understood. But you both knew it - you’d won this round. Yet, as she rounded the corner of her desk, she asked, “By the way, how’s your car?”

The urge to grin fled as your eyes narrowed and your ire sparked. “Why do you ask? Have something you wanna tell me?” 

She smirked, and you wanted to wipe it off of her stupid, enchanting, smug face. “Oh, no reason. Been some cars getting vandalized ‘round here, that’s all. I’d keep an eye out.” 

You open your mouth to retort, but you're interrupted by a shrill, “Good morning Miss Schemmenti!” from one of the students as she ran into the room. Melissa’s attention was drawn away from you as her teacher persona slipped flawlessly into place. 

“Good morning, Kayla!” she replied sweetly. Her smile was positively radiant. You despised it. 

You settled into your chair as more students trickled in. A storm of anger and discontent was raging inside of you, but you worked to calm yourself before the school day really began. As you watch the seats fill in the room, you see Melissa approaching you from the corner of your eye. You wait for her to reach you before turning your head and cocking it to the side. You see her tongue press against the inside of her cheek momentarily and you know she’s pissed that she has to be cordial with you in front of the kids. 

As she drops some worksheets on your desk for you to pass out, her eyes catch on something. You glance down and see the tupperware containing your lunch sitting in your unzipped bag. Looking back to Melissa, you see the malicious smirk form on her full lips before she speaks.

“Decided you didn’t feel like stealin’ today, huh?” 

You clench your teeth together as she turns and walks away from you. You definitely don’t pay any special attention to the way her curvaceous hips swing, her self-satisfied air nearly suffocating you. You close your eyes and take three centering breaths. As you reopen them and begin passing out papers, you repeat a mantra in your head: Just make it to Friday. Melissa Schemmenti will get what’s coming to her.

—----------------------

She chooses to ice you out for the rest of the week, and frankly, you’re not mad about it. It’s better than having barbed remarks constantly thrown your way, and it’s definitely better than getting into another vicious verbal brawl. Or worse, a physical one. However, it also makes your job harder. She practically won’t acknowledge your existence unless she absolutely must, and she doesn’t include you in any of her teaching. You do a fine job answering individual questions during the kids’ work time, and nothing beats the feeling of warm satisfaction when one of them works out a difficult math problem or correctly spells a word they’d struggled with. But you didn’t feel like you were really a part of the classroom; Melissa wouldn’t allow you to be.

You’d decided to brave the teacher’s lounge for lunch on your second day and were glad that you did - although Melissa wasn’t happy with your presence there, Janine more than made up for it. She quickly introduced you to Jacob and Gregory, and timidly introduced you to Barbara, who you realized was close friends with Melissa. Barbara had a kind air about her, and you instantly felt soothed when speaking with her. You couldn’t fathom how she could be friends with the stubborn, explosive, and cruel redhead. For the rest of the week, you ate your lunch in the lounge, sitting with Janine and Jacob, politely greeting Barb and Gregory, and entirely ignoring Melissa. This was noticed by absolutely everyone.

In the evenings at home, you worked diligently to make sure you had what you needed for Melissa’s “surprise”. Your friend had sent the files you needed, and you thanked her profusely, promising to buy her drinks the next time you were both in the same city. She’d done an excellent job. You needed things to be as close to perfect as they could get. Nothing could tip Melissa off or else your plan would fail. 

3:00 on Friday rolled around painstakingly slowly. You were a bundle of nerves all day, and you were paranoid Melissa was picking up on your energy. She’d given you scrutinizing glances twice and you’d done your best to ignore them. By the time the whole class had left and it was just the two of you, you felt like you were bursting at the seams. You could feel your heart beating as you reached into a small zippered pocket in your bag. Grabbing the fruits of your labor and pressing them behind your back, you cautiously made your way to Melissa’s desk.

She didn’t acknowledge your presence, keeping her eyes glued to her computer and ignoring you entirely. You pursed your lips and took a deep breath. You needed this to work. 

“I’d like to extend an olive branch,” you said, pleased at how steady your voice was.

Without looking up, she curtly responded, “Not interested.” 

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Big surprise,” you muttered. Her gaze snapped to yours and you felt your stomach drop. Swallowing, you continued, “Look, it’s not like I’m going to ask to be friends or whatever. I know that we… got off on the wrong foot,” which was an understatement. “I just wanted to tell you that I was sorry, and I’d like it if we could at least be cordial.” 

She opened her mouth to retort, but you held up a hand to silence her. She recoiled a bit, her brows arching at your nerve, but her surprise at your boldness bought you time to interject. “I didn’t think you’d just take my word for it, so I got you these.” 

You brought your other hand from behind your back, and held out two VIP tickets to the Philadelphia Eagles game this coming Sunday. 

You heard her teeth clack as her mouth snapped shut, her eyes wide in shock. Her expression quickly turned to one of suspicion as she asked, “How do you know I even like football, huh?” 

Your cheeks colored a bit against your will. “I uh… I asked Janine to tell me about you so I could surprise you.” You didn’t like the meekness in your voice. For some reason you were embarrassed, your reasons for doing this notwithstanding. 

A look of pure annoyance crossed Melissa’s face as she muttered, “Dammit, Janine.” She gazed at the tickets, almost as if she was wary of them. As she was contemplating, her teeth caught her lower lip and you felt something stir in you. God, how dare she look fucking endearing after everything. In another life, you would have liked to trap that lip between your teeth. 

As your mind fought off those thoughts, she gingerly reached out and took the tickets from you. You felt your pulse quicken as she pulled her cat eye glasses off of her head and examined them. A few moments that felt like an age passed, and you thought you might explode from the anticipation. 

Suddenly she removed her glasses and set the tickets down on her desk. Looking off to the side, Melissa Schemmenti crossed her arms and looked almost timid . And then, to your utter disbelief, she said words you never thought you’d hear her say to you. 

“I uh…guess that’s one helluva olive branch. How could I say no to that?”

You stared back at her, mind blank. She’d just accepted your peace offering. It took you a moment to catch up and you realized your mouth was literally hanging open. You promptly shut it.

“Thanks,” Melissa said, and this time she looked you in the eye. There wasn’t warmth there, but there was a distinct lack of animosity, so she may as well have been beaming at you. As you stared back into her captivating green eyes, you felt the beginning of a new feeling. It dawned on you that you were starting to feel bad. 

You had to shut that shit down.

You started, backing away from her desk and nodding in her direction. “Yeah, of course,” you say, quickly turning to grab your bag and get the hell out of dodge. “I gotta run, but, uh… I hope you have fun,” you say, and holding her gaze feels absolutely grueling. “I dunno if I’ll be back next week, so…” you trail off.

She’d turned back to her computer, but she actually glances up at you when she says, “Ashley’s still healin’ from her surgery, so you’ll be off the bench next week too. You, uh… might actually be able to teach these kids somethin’ before she gets back.”

You blink in disbelief. Did she… was that almost a compliment? Was she at least admitting that you were a better aide? For the first time, you think that you might be making a mistake. 

Yet, as you stand there, the last week plays out in your mind - the rude treatment, the outright disrespect, the vicious words, and the ruined headlights on your car that you could barely afford to fix. You couldn’t let yourself back down now, and not just because she already had the tickets. You wanted to ruin her week the way she’d ruined yours - you wanted to get her hopes up and then crush them. 

You grasp ahold of the rage that had been motivating you. You feel the tenderness in your heart harden to steel as a false smile graces your lips, and as you turn to leave, you reply, “Well, I guess I’ll see you next week. Let me know how the game is.” 

And you leave Melissa Schemmenti with two counterfeit VIP Eagle’s tickets.

[creedslove]

Imagine our sweet Dave looking at his future fiance quietly. She doesn't know he is standing in a corridor, looking at her when she is changing in her bedroom.

They are not living together yet, they are just dating for a few months and she is still a little shy around him at times.

She has her sports bra on, because it's more comfortable than regular bra, but Dave wants to take her for some fancy dinner so she wants to change. The sports bra is a little tight and she has to make a little silly dance to take it off. Something she is jumping, sometimes wiggling her way out of it. Dave loves it. He finds it beyond adorable when she is jumping and grunting a little, because the bra is stubborn and long hair is not helping in this situation. He is smiling and laughing very quietly. He is in trouble, he thinks to himself.

When his soon to be fiance is wiggling her hips to help a tight dress fit through her wide hips, Dave takes a deep breath and admires her. Thongs, so it's not visible under the dress, love handles so soft, his fingers always dig dip in her flesh, exposed back with a back fat shaping her body the way he likes it, wide shoulders with freckles and moles he wants to kiss. It's beautiful view.

When the dress is on, she is out of the bedroom. The large mirror is in the corridor and she wants to take a look at herself in the outfit.

-You ready? - she can hear Dave's voice from a living room. He was quick, so he was not spotted staring.

-i think I have to change. I look so ridiculous in that tight dress. It looked good in the store, but I'm not sure now. Dave loved the dress on her. Belly pouch, breasts, wide hips. Everything so visible, but hidden.

-I think, this look needs a little something to be completed. -His voice low and think like honey. The necklaces Dave helped her put on was supposed to be a gift for later that evening, but seeing the beautiful woman in front of him, he wanted to spoil her as soon as possible. He wanted to see her smile and gasp in surprise.

Dave loves his soon to be fiance. His soon to be wife. 🍓✨

I have never seen Equalizer 2, but from clips and fantastic I think he is my top 5 for sure. Dave deserves so much love and kisses. There is something about him.

Dave York x f!reader

A/N: omg bestie, you painted this picture so well, it sounds just perfect to picture him like that. It sounds sexy and intimate and I'm sure you worded it better than I could ever do it! ❤️ Thank you for this beautiful scenario, and yes, he does deserve all the love and affection in the whole wide world ❤️

• Dave's heart raced as he watched you from afar, he could never believe his luck in knowing you were his, it still felt too good, it was unbelievable, but it was real: you were his, his fiancee and soon to be wife

• he just loves you, all of you, so much of you it feels overwhelming to him at times: but he loves your body, your soul, your personality and everything about you, just the mere fact of watching you hidden is enough to make his heart flutter, the desire grows inside of him, whenever he sees those clothes sliding through your soft skin, he wants to run his own hands through your body, but it's still too soon, not just yet, he needs to watch you a little longer, he loves that sight

• and once you're standing there like a damn goddess, Dave can't help but feel the need to walk to you, it's like being hypnotized and he can't stay away, so when he places his hands on your shoulders and sees your hesitation, your shy eyes, the way you bite your lips and mumble you are considering changing, his heart breaks, you should never be insecure that way, not when you are beautiful, breathtakingly gorgeous

"this dress looks beautiful, just like you entirely, you're not changing it, baby girl, it looked good at the store and now it looks even better"

• he assures you, showing you he's not gonna let you change it, he loves the way you look, you are perfect, you are his, and if anything, he would just change one single thing about you: he would add some jewelry to you, because you glow more than the finest precious stone, so he decided to grab the velvet jewelry box he got on his way from work and handed it to you; he was going to give it to you during dinner, but why not at that moment?

"there, now you look perfect, everything about you is perfect baby girl, look at yourself"

• Dave commanded while his hands squeezed your sides, holding you in front of the mirror, as he nuzzled your neck, kissing and nibbling your shoulders

"see how perfect you are? Your body, your hips, your breasts, all of you baby girl, I fucking love it"

• Dave's kiss was hungry, he was feeling you up, running your hands through your body as his fist gripped your hair, he loved you, all of you and he was going to take you, even if you two arrived a little late for dinner, it didn't matter, you were his priority

• the way Dave turned you around, kissing you even more hungrily and placed you on the bed, getting between your legs as he parted them, kissing and nibbling your thighs and groaning at how you squirmed for him

"you're not gonna remove this dress, got it, baby girl?"

• he told you, allowing you only to lift your hips up and roll up your dress, so you could spread your legs for him. Dave let out a groan at the sight of your beautiful silky pair of panties, it was so sexy and inviting, but he needed it to be gone, wanting you bare and exposed for him

• he pulled your panties to the side, kissing your inner thighs and spreading your slippery lips apart, his tongue immediately savoring your addictive taste; he could spend the whole night there, the way your sensitive clit flicked in his tongue as you whimpered and your legs shook slightly whenever he suckled on it

• your finger ran through his hair, pulling it closer and closer to your cunt, wanting more of your boyfriend's devilish mouth on you; your heart raced, your body felt on fire and you couldn't hold back any longer, you called his name repeatedly, wanting him more and more, as you felt yourself getting closer to your bliss, you finally came into Dave's mouth

• you clenched, so sensitive at how he licked and kissed all over your cunt as you tried recovering from your orgasm; he smirked at you, kissing his way up and then your lips, making you taste yourself in them

"see baby? Told you you looked perfect, now we're finally ready to go"

____

[m-jelly]

Hey there Jelly! If requests are open, may I request Hange x Fem! Titan Shifter reader? Hange spots the reader in her Titan form, helping animals and killing other titans. Hanger just looks at Her and is like "Yep, I can live with that!" Thank you for your time Jelly!

Love in all shapes and sizes

Hange x fem!Reader

Canon world, romance, falling in love, fluff, cute, sweet, titan shifter reader.

Hange goes for a horse ride to clear her head and stumbles across you. She watches you as you care for animals and stop other titans from getting close. Hange approaches and starts talking to you. You get to know her and reveal who you really are.

The wind tousled Hange's hair as she rode across the field. She knew very well that there could be some leftover titans in the area, but she didn't care and she was armed. For a moment, she wanted to be free. Countless responsibilities had been thrust upon her. It was becoming too much.

She closed her eye for a moment and enjoyed the freedom. Loud stomping made her open her eye and look over to where the noise was coming from. She slowed down as she watched a breathtakingly beautiful female titan carefully pick up a few sheep and place them back into a pen.

"Holy shit." She grinned as she felt excited about meeting another titan shifter. "I hope she's friendly."

Hange raced over to the female titan and kept a close watch. She yanked on the reins of the horse and gasped when the titan raced over to her. She expected death, but the titan ran past her. Hange looked behind her to see the titan grab the neck of an abnormal reaching for her. The female ripped the titan's head off and dropped the body on the floor.

You panted and turned to look at Hange gazing at you with adoration in her eyes. You squatted next to her and smiled. "May I carry you?"

Hange inhaled deeply. "Another talking titan!"

You hummed a laugh. "Yes. So, may I?"

"Please!"

You picked Hange up and placed her on your shoulder. "Hold on. I'll also carry your horse." You cradled the horse and rose to your feet. "I will take you to my home."

Hange gripped your hair as you walked towards a cottage with a farm area. "Pretty place! I didn't know anyone lived out here because of the Titans."

You gently placed the horse in your stables. You reached up to Hange. "Come."

Hange stepped onto your hand and held your thumb as you lowered her. "So, are you a human?"

You sat in front of her. "I...I am...please don't hand me over. I...I love it here. I have a cat and a dog. I have animals...please."

Hange gasped. "I would never! You are just living your life here beyond the walls."

You hummed. "I have been hiding. Titans only eat people and I kill Titans. So, I've been okay."

Hange offered her hand. "I'm Hange Zoe!"

You reached over and let her grab a finger as you introduced yourself. "Lovely to meet you." You hummed a laugh. "You're not afraid?"

"We have a shifter working with us!"

You smiled. "That's good."

"So..."

You shook your head. "No thank you. I understand you need help, but I don't want to get involved. I've been hurt enough for being different. I enjoy being here alone with my animals."

Hange pouted. "Can I be here?"

You blushed a little. "Only if you want to."

"I do!" She grinned. "Can I meet the real you?"

You released a long sigh. "As long as you promise not to tell anyone about me."

"I swear."

You smiled and lay down. "Okay." You pulled from the back of the neck of the titan and gasped. You pulled free and made your way down to Hange. "This is me."

Hange gazed at you in awe. You were the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. The marking on your face framed you so perfectly. You were graceful and yet strong. Her eyes traced your body and the way it moved and curved. You were a divine being in her eyes.

Hange shivered as arousal shot through you. "You're hot."

You went bright red. "Th-thank you. You are a very beautiful woman." You pointed to your home. "Would you like to join me for a cup of tea?"

"Yes please!" She hugged your arm and walked with you. "Damn, you even smell good."

You smiled a little. "I make my own soap."

"You're incredible. I like you."

Your heart skipped a beat. "I like you also."