#lyrics eyes are kind of big here even for how i draw them but i really need them 👁️👁️ at you

[oopsiedaisiesbaby]

was listening to super rich kids by frank ocean and had a thought about how perfectly the lyrics fit modern steve. Imagine billy attending his first house party at the bumfuck town his dad moved him to. And he’s playing it cool and has made quite the impression on the local kids but I can absolutely imagine him being absolutely overwhelmed and freaked out at the sheer size of the mansion this party is being held in. Maybe he decides to slip out the back to take a breather and maybe smoke a cigarette. The host didn’t even bother turning on the lights out here cos it’s the middle of winter and no one in their right mind was going to be hanging out in the back yard so the only light comes from the blue glow of the pool. Except there is someone out here on one of the loungers. Billy can’t see who it is. But he sure can hear this guy sing every word and note of the song he’s listening to perfectly. And like. The guy’s got a great voice. Billy doesn’t want to draw attention to himself and maybe cause the guy to stop singing along to the song playing on his phone. Except right at the end of the song the guy sort of stumbles up from the chair he’s been lying on and jumps in the pool. And Billy’s kind of frozen to the spot… cos he can see how many beer cans are littering the ground beside the lounge chair. Surely the guy’s gonna resurface soon?? He’s not that drunk..right? Next thing billy knows he’s jumping into a pool in the middle of winter fully clothed after a stranger. He’s hauling the guy up from the bottom of the pool and coming face to face with big doe eyes and pale skin. And after spluttering for a few seconds and pushing dark hair out of his face the guy squints at billy and goes: “the fuck, asshole?? I was trying to see how long I could hold my breath?” And that’s how billy meets Steve Harrington

Oh. My. Stars.

No notes nonny.

How very them.

Billy hiding anxiety by acting all gregarious and like a cocky asshole only to slip out and shakily smoke a cigarette. Steve hiding at his own house party and singing to himself. Billy assuming the worst and thinking he’s saving this pretty boy’s life and Steve was really just being Steve.

10/10 🙌

[boundbyeclipse]

hiii can you write smut number 5 with current James????

black velvet

genre : smut

word count : 1227

tags : current!james, female!reader, age difference (not specified how much), reader is a tattoo artist, a little rough james, semi-public sex (i think?), that’s about it

from the prompt list : 5. “don’t cover your mouth. i wanna hear you”

a/n : sooo i saw a photo of James getting a tattoo done and i thought hey, that’s a perfect idea for one of my requests! it really stuck to me and i had to write it. i really hope you enjoy this one x

‘Poison’ by Alice Cooper played in the background after you returned from your dinner break at work. You hummed along to the lyrics while lightly bopping your head to the beat. You absolutely loved rock and metal, so the playlist used at work always consisted of bands who did exactly those genres. It always gave you motivation and boosts for some energy, no matter if you were sad, angry or irritated.

While preparing for your next client, the sound of the entrance door opening and closing reached your ears. Technically, it was just a bit too early to show up, but hey, this one’s a regular and you didn’t mind at all.

“Hey there” you greeted him while putting some black gloves on your hands.

“Hey. Mind me showing up before I should?”

You gave him a warm smile, shaking your head left to right.

“Nope. You can come take a seat actually, I’ll go print out the tattoo and get more ink”

“Alright” James smiled back, hanging his jacket on the rack and making his way to the big, comfortable leather chair. He watched you walking around and you didn’t quite pay any attention to him, at least at first. Or, you just didn’t want to.

No matter how many times you’ve done tattoos on this man in the past few years, there has always been some sort of a tension between you both. It wasn’t anything like what you’ve had before with other men. They might have complimented you, made you smile, even blush, but none of them put you in such a vulnerable position with their presence alone. And there have been many times where his eyes would pierce right through you in the middle of getting his skin drawn on, creating the impression of him wanting to do some things to you. The lust was purely emitting from him the whole time. And you cannot forget about those moments when his fingertips would brush against your skin, making you shiver and think of scenarios in your head that were not so innocent. Sure, he was much older than you, but that didn’t stop either of you from craving each other every time.

Not too long after, you were already seated next to James, with his hand extended out as you were drawing lines on his skin.

My, oh my, did those large hands of his drove you insane.

“You got any more people coming after me?” he suddenly asked, his blue eyes hinting at something.

“Nope, you are the last one today. Puts my mind at ease knowing my last client is a regular. No need to overthink”

One side of his mouth curved up into a small smirk.

“Are you sure your mind is at ease? Because I can feel you’re all tensed up”

You swallowed and bit your lower lip hard after he said that. Trying to hide your growing frustration, you giggled.

“Maybe I am, I’ve been here since seven in the morning, you know”

He cocked an eyebrow up, not quite believing what you were saying. James could clearly see how you bit your lip, adjusted in your seat and giggled due to getting thrown back by his comment.

“It’s kind of easy to tell that it’s not because of the work. You don’t need to hide it”

Your breath hitched in your throat, and your body froze for a moment before you looked up at him and asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I know you secretly think about all the possible ways I could use my hands on you,” you could not believe what he just said, but it was totally true, “it’s written all over your face. Even your body language gives it away with how you shake, squirm in your seat, how you breathe heavier when I’m around. I know you think of me”

“James, don’t-“

“Just finish the tattoo first, then you can explain yourself”

Not even ten minutes later, you had your body pinned against the door of your break room, with no way to escape the tall man who hovered over you. His hands roamed your body while he kissed your neck, sucking on the sensitive spots to make you even weaker. The way he held you by your hip against the door made you so vulnerable and so turned on, that you could not help but moan into the heated kiss.

With one swift move, James opened the door behind you and the both of you walked backwards, still all over each other until the back of your calves hit the lounge couch that was in the room. James helped you with taking your shirt off, leaving you in a black lace bra. You sat down and watched James from below, eyes full of desperation and need, looking right into his own. He removed his shirt and tossed it away, unbuckling his jeans and unzipping them, then hovering above you as he laid you down slowly, but with rough kisses and a tight grip on your waist.

Your hand reached into his jeans and you cupped him through the fabric of his underwear, giving it a couple squeezes as James groaned in response. He was big, thick and hard, and you could feel yourself getting so wet that it started to hurt. You really needed him.

With no clothes left on your bodies, he was now inside you, moving his hips as he watched your face, loving the way your eyes rolled back with each thrust. The way your back arched, your naked bodies touching against each other, it put you in such a trance. Every second of it - you just loved.

With your moans becoming louder, you felt a little embarrassed, and your hand found its way to your mouth to silence yourself. But James wasn’t going to let you hide.

“Don’t cover your mouth. I wanna hear you”

Carefully, he took your hand and now had both of your hands pinned above your head. Your moans filled the room as you wrapped your legs around his waist, wanting to feel every single inch of his length in you. Almost to the point where you could barely take it.

“I can’t- I can’t take it”

“Yes, you can. Just hang on for a little bit more for me, okay?”

You gave him a nod in response, eyes watery and lips parted as you breathed heavily, your high hitting you right then and there. It happened so quickly, that you could not even tell James that you were close.

Another moan slipped out of his mouth as you coated him in your juices, your walls pulsing whilst he was still inside you, able to feel everything.

“Almost there” he told you as he gave you his final thrusts before pulling out and cumming on your stomach. Both of you were panting, with small beads of sweat on your foreheads and hair all messed up. But as soon as you got your breathing back to normal, it was time to clean up and go home. Though, James just wasn’t quite keen on leaving you so soon.

“I’ll give you a ride back home, so don’t worry about taking a bus in this weather” he gave you a warm smile as he put his jacket on and waited for you at the entrance door.

[m4ndysk4nkovich]

mickey milkovich x nude, radiohead

i don’t think that anybody can disagree that 1x07 is the episode where we learn the most about mickey milkovich. no, i don’t mean he showed any development or anything like that, but we learned something about him that made him significant for the rest of the show. something that never leaves, something that is important to him. in 1x07, we learn that mickey milkovich is gay, and we learn that he is willing to sleep with ian gallagher (even when his father and sister are in the house).

in 1x06, mickey kind of has an interaction with ian that we later see and are like, “yeah, he’s totally gay”, but back then it wasn’t stated that mickey was gay. mickey steals shit from the kash and grab, and he tells ian, “you know where i live if you have a problem” kind of instigating that ian should come over.

but in 1x07, mickey has stolen the gun from the kash and grab, and ian goes to mickey’s house equipped with a tyre iron, ready to take it back.

the “i want the gun back, mickey” scene needs no introduction or explanation. we all know what happened. we all watched in awe as mickey stood over ian and both of their breaths evened out and they made contact and… bam! they’re getting undressed, just like that.

later on, we are no stranger to gallavich and fighting then fucking. it’s something many people know them for, the fact that they’ll literally beat the shit out of each other and then immediately get on each other. but here, it was supposed to be for shock value because shameless utilizes shock value. to those who didn’t know gallavich was going to happen, watching mickey, the thug who had literally just attempted murder on ian, undress and fuck ian was surprising. later on, we can understand why it happened, but we were supposed to be shocked.

so, here’s where nude by radiohead comes in.

terry wakes up from a nap and goes to take a piss in mickey’s room (there’s a bathroom in there, he isn’t just pissing in it, lol). in there, ian and mickey are naked under mickey’s covers. around them, we see a poster of a woman and we also see a drawing mickey made that says “fuck love”.

so when terry comes out of the bathroom and looks at them both, he doesn’t do what season 3 terry does, he simply says “put some clothes on, you two look like a couple of fags!” and it’s a comical scene because, what the fuck, terry, aren’t you a homophobic murderer? you woke up to grunts and crashes coming from mickey’s room, then when you came in he and another boy are naked in his bed… what do you think they were doing?

so when mickey does put some clothes on, he puts on a radiohead shirt.

the shirt says “you’ll go to hell for what your dirty mind is thinking” and those are the last lyrics of the radiohead song “nude”.

so for those who haven’t listened to the song, here’s my analysis of why this song is associated with mickey milkovich and how it ends up foreshadowing his entire character for the next four seasons.

“don’t get any big ideas

they’re not gonna happen”

literally this scene. mickey caves and gives ian the gun back because lets be honest, it was really just bait. ian leans in to kiss him, and mickey has a look in his eyes where you can tell he wants to, but he can’t. he built this wall up years ago and he’s already cursing himself for letting it come down. terry instructed him to get dressed, and he puts on this shirt. and he’s trying to put this carefully constructed mask back on but he’s struggling. and so, he pushes ian away, “kiss me and i’ll cut your fucking tounge out”. there’s no malice in his tone, it’s a threat, but it isn’t threatening.

“you paint yourself white

and fill up with noise

but there'll be something missing”

mickey hiding in the closet, marrying svetlana, being a father to yevgeny, trying to act like the perfect son of terry. he still has this mask on and he tries to hide who he is but alas, he can’t. he loves ian too much and when he gets married and pushes him away, he’s still gay and in love.

“now that you found it

it’s gone”

upon being married, he tells ian that they can still bang. maybe being married to a woman makes him feel a bit more secure because although he despises it and it’s crushing him, he can keep his whole “king of the southside” thing. now that he’s married and unhappy, terry’s satisfied, and that’s all that matters- well, at one point it was. so he tells ian that they can still fuck, but suddenly, ian isn’t as eager and easy as he once was, and he leaves. he’s gone.

“now that you feel it

you don't

you’ve gone off the rails”

he’s out, he’s with ian, he has ian. things are supposed to be fine- but they’re not. ian’s unstable and has been hospitalized, and mickey breaks. he gets shitfaced and cuts his cheek and cries into ian’s jacket. that wall he once built up? the chest he puffed up, the posters he hung, the tattoos he got, they all mean nothing. it’s all gone. the wall and mask are gone, he’s more fragile than he once was. ian’s broken and it’s simultaneously breaking him too.

“so don't get any big ideas

they're not gonna happen”

this line is so mickey in s5, s6, s7, and s10. ian calling him and mickey running to see ian. he has hope. but no, ian breaks up with him, mickey is arrested, and when ian visits he desperately wants ian back. he tattoos ian’s name on his chest, specifically over his heart, and he practically pleads for ian to stay. then, mickey and ian are fleeing to mexico, and for a second, he has hope again. he fantasizes about he and ian at the beach, ian’s freckled skin being sunburnt, them swimming in the ocean together. for once, he can imagine his dreams being true. but they aren’t. he and ian are getting their marriage license, but ian’s hand wavers over the dotted line and he gives mickey that look and mickey breaks (…ian’s leg. lol). he keeps getting his hopes up and everytime he scolds himself for it because he just ends up hopeless.

then finally, the moment we’ve all been waiting for,

“you'll go to hell

for what your dirty mind

is thinking”

it’s in the 1x07 scene i’m talking about. terry instructs mickey to get dressed, he does, and he puts on a shirt that says this. and in that shirt, he seems odd. the confidence we see him have in 1x03 is no longer there. he doesn’t necessarily look vulnerable, but he isn’t the mickey he pretends to be. he caves and returns the gun, which was just bait for ian to come anyway, and he refuses to make eye contact with ian, but when he does, it’s almost coy? he’s ashamed. he’s thinking of things he know would get him killed and he hates himself for it. terry will end him if he finds out, and yes, he has the posters, the reputation, the persona, the tattoos, the guns, etc. but in the end, it’s all an act, and we can see it. the way he licks his lips, the way his eyes won’t focus, his body language says so much.

[yuseirra]

Can you make a comic where hikaru and ai are having romantic physical touch, like kissing or cuddling???

I actually never seen hikaru and ai being romantically together, I always love your doodle and theory about hikaai❣️❣️❣️❣️

I hope you never stop 💖💖💖💖🥰🥰🥰

Hello~~~ heheheh.. I.. I was really surprised when I found this in my inbox today as I had my eyes open at 3am in the morning. What a coincidence because I ACTUALLY GAVE THIS AN ATTEMPT. JUST RIGHT BEFORE I READ THIS ASK. What timing, wow!! this was going to be left in my notes forever because I-...'d have been too shy to post it publicly but yeah it's dawn and I'm half-awake and dazed and all, I'm going to drop it here and slide back into the abyss

(yeah please do listen to Ruler Of My Heart btw I even translated the lyrics for you guys...it's in the link!! Imagine it's them singing them together lol. i listened to that as I drew this earlier)

I picture it's Ai who's made all the big advances, I mean that's exactly what's happened in the work. She initiated things. I think Hikaru'd have treated her very carefully considering how sweet he used to be.

To add, at this point I'm pretty sure these guys are at least inspired from Amenouzume and Sarutakhiko, they share too many similarities with those gods; and if that's the case, then even this is pretty accurate towards the legend and the gods because Amenouzume is the one who approached and got her man to love her, legends state SHE flirted w him and they just.. get married right after that. He just took a liking to her immediately... Even better, she literally got the perfect guy being the adorable and precious goddess she is, I'm so proud of her!! He governs over so many things and is so powerful (like one of the seven gods who have the title of Okami) but most of all he's virtuous!! He's noble!! Hey if I'M Japanese and and I write stories about the entertainment industry with gods involved there is NO way I don't incorporate this story somewhere?? I'd be so disappointed if it's not going to be mentioned when Amenouzume's already been brought up.

The reply got really long because I got overboard about this ship again, I'll put a read more ;)

If you've ever seen me throughout all these years, I draw tons of cuddles and fluff but I NEVER draw anything more than a cheek kiss, ever because I get embarrassed to bits. But with these guys...UGH let me justify myself, things look really bad rn but they ACTUALLY CANNOT GET ANY MORE MUTUAL IN CANON...

One of them states they were only alive when they had the other and that they loved her from the bottom of their heart and the other says they wanted to live with the other forever and confesses they were the first one they ever wanted to love, even while they didn't fully understand what love is!!! How strong IS THAT??

I care so much about canon, as soon as those dropped I just, there is no way I can't unsee that. It's just there. Furthermore, they already have two kids between them!!! They did all the things a couple would do, wouldn't they have??? I'm sure with all the positive comments they've made about each other, I can just go on and on.

What I can infer is, if there is someone who can make Ai drop those from her mouth out of her heart.. they're definitely the one who's made her really happy. She can't get more loving than that..he managed to do it, so I see him being so precious to her, he's worth everything to her you know? She went through so much for Kamiki's sake and yet she's so warm towards him I just can't!!! That's what got me because I could already see HE would have "loved" Ai a lot may it be twisted or not. Ai is smart. She's so serious about love too. Then what they had must have been so genuine. He couldn't have hurt her or made her suffer, that's not how it works.

The way I see it, he actually used to be the really gentle and timid type(this is what really gets me; he was so kind!!;), and he totally shifted upon having lost her. HE USED TO BE SO SOFT!!; and he still kinda is. I can see how he'd have been really nice in the past, it sort of does still seep through his behavior. He's just totally broken. This guy, I'm pretty sure he devoted himself to a cause related to Ai's life after she'd been gone...his life after her death is just him struggling to do something related to her, he's written that way and that's how he broke. How did he- what happened?? I just; he's broken so bad!!; Well.

Back to you, @jusmingamba :) I'm someone who's nuts over keeping close to canon,

if canon doesn't disappoint me, I can keep going... 'v')9 Thanks for the support! I don't want to stop either, I hope the MANGA doesn't make me feel that way, it's been so rough.. I knew it was going to be a tough road ;v; BUT GOSH. It's been so bumpy and tense and everything, I keep saying this over and over, but just what kind of guy did Ai love/?? The thing is, I see many good things about him but???;;; they make him appear as if he's so evil too so. I hope that's intentional. He has/had all the potential to be this really interesting and complex character, I hope they use it. I CAN. I WOULD. I CAN DO IT. SO I can't picture the artists not doing it themselves.. it'd be such a waste!!

If anything, they have to come back to them at least once before the manga ends because I cannot see Ai's wish being disregarded. That was an important plot point and I just DON'T see the plot being that cruel to her. They've been so cruel to Hikaru, geez.. but if he's someone she loved so much, I hope what she wanted does come through one way or the other, that's the only way I see this being a "fulfilling" story in the end.

I lost sleep.. I'm going to be so tired today and also pretty embarrassed from posting this but I regret nothing!! You're welcome!! Have a nice day!!!!

[serenhoshi]

𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

I’m sorry I haven’t posted in a while! I was working for my finals, and now that I’m done I can post again! 

Here is the beginning of the “Ateez as your boyfriend” series, I haven’t done all the members of seventeen yet, but I’m working on it as well, it’ll come very soon!

So, Kim Hongjoong!

based on his mbti, the man is a lover of love

he is a hopeless romantic, and has a crush 24/7

he loves having a crush, daydreaming a bit about the person that attracted him

it kind of frees him from his busy everyday life

it inspires him for some of his lyrics as well?? (like i know ateez songs are about rebellion and stuff but i’m sure that this man right here has many romantic and cheesy songs about his ex-lover(s) or/and crushes)

anyways, so as I said, he has a crush on basically anyone

he never truly expects anything, like no relationship whatsoever, he really just enjoys the feeling of liking someone

so when he has a crush one you, he doesn’t expect much from it

maybe he saw you at a museum or in a shop or whatever

and he double-checked you like “oh- oh, they look great” (in his head ofc)

and maybe he liked your vibe, your outfit, whatever

he ended up giving you quick looks during your whole visit (if it’s a museum), like a shy kid

he knows he won’t see you again anyway because of his work, and [insert city name] is a big city, so he makes sure he memorizes you well

it really sounds weird but like

he WILL write about you, so he needs to remember details to talk about in his lyrics

As soon as he got home, he started writing his song, it was very quick lmao

so when he was done, he was satisfied and could go back to his work

until he saw you again, at the agency

his eyes opened wide and his jaw almost fell to the floor

he was clearly confused so he played it cool and ignored you as if he never knew you in the first place

like “damn, that not how it always goes”

but turns out you had to work together, because you were in charge of the production of some music videos, so you had to meet with the members to talk about the aesthetic and the mood of the songs, and what to tell in the video

the members quickly saw that hongjoong was acting weirdly around you

like during a meeting, anytime you looked at him he would look away from you, anytime he spoke up his ears would turn red because he knew you were watching him

so they mocked him lmao

and he threatened them back

but they’re ateez, they don’t really care, so they continued

until it got to you

you heard the members being like “hongjoong-hyung have you seen y/n’s haircut today? oh i’m sure you have right?”

“remember when he drew them?? in a cartoon-ish way, it looked cute tho”

“yeah, i want you to draw me too!- why not? is it because they’re your crush and i’m not??”

you were very confused and curious at the same time

so one time your curiosity took over, and you called hongjoong after a meeting with the members (ofc they mocked him when they heard you call him lmao)

you blutly asked if there was someting going on, because you heard stuff from the members, and you needed to know if you had done something wrong, or is they were mocking you for something. not even once considering he could actually like you

he would giggle shyly, hiding his face with his hand

and then he was fully honest with you

he said in a suprisingly confident way, that he hoped something would develop between the two of you, because he really appreciates you

and he asked you on a date btw

i know right

he couldn’t believe it either

the date went very well, you went to the cinema and then ate at the convenience store bcs you were hungry

it was very fun! and both of you started to get attached to each other

you got close very fast, you saw each other a lot at dates, your appartment, or his recording studio

you would just mess around a lot, laugh, eat, sleep, whatever

at some point he just HAD to tell you how much he loved you

you were both in his studio, you had drank a bit, hongjoong more than you, to give himself a bit of courage

he played the song he made after meeting you for the first time

the silence was pressuring to him, while you listened attentively to the song

then you looked at him, confused at what it meant (not really understanding that it was about you)

so he told you

his confession was a bit clumsy, he wanted to do well but he was too stressed, so stressed that he stuttered a lot

but it was also very sincere, his eyes did not leave you, the light reflecting in them made them look so bright and passionate that your heart started speeding up

when he finally said “i love you”, you smiled, and giggled like a child

his eyes were still on you, and you felt your ears burn and redden

you told him that you loved him too, in a quieter voice, shy to let the three words out

he smiled widely, he heard what you said, but he just had to tease you a bit

so he came closer, his face inches away from yours

“what did you say?” 

so you said it again, with a tiny pout on your lips

and he kissed you right after

Now, let’s see how the pirate king is as a boyfriend :D

i’m sure that even though he keeps showing his hate for physical touch on TV, he actually loves it

but only with you :)

when he gets home from work he comes to you and kisses you on the forehead, a hand holding your waist or caressing your back

will get grumpy if you don’t accept taking a bath with him >:(

while watching tv he either holds your hand or puts it on your thigh

same when he drives

loves spending special evenings or afternoons with you

like you both going shopping, taking pictures and enjoying the city

or discovering the new pet cafe <3

maybe an evening customizing some of your clothes, sat on the floor of the living room, with some 2000s songs playing in the back

or you dyeing his hair !

you also cook together at least 2 to 3 times a week

because you’re both bad at cooking but you want to get better

at first it was chaotic, now it’s better

having hongjoong as a boyfriend also means being a new parent for ateez

some of the members (like wooyoung and mingi) will call you mom as a joke

when they come to the appartment (randomly most of the time), you’ll have to handle them with your boyfriend, as much as you can

but hongjoong’s patience is so low you end up handling them yourself while he tries to beat up yunho in the back

hongjoong really has no patience, in your relationship its better

but he still gets angry easily

luckily, he doesn’t give you the silent treatment, he directly confronts you about what he thinks and what made him upset

very jealous, protective, and a bit possessive as well

at first it annoyed you a lot, so you told him and now he controls himself better

but he still always has a hand around your waist during social events, just so people know that you’re taken

i think that hongjoong “weak” side would be how shy he is when it comes to compliment you

he shows support through actions, he encourages anything you do in life and makes sure you know how proud he is of you

but its always hard for him to put it into words

when you’re not here he can describe you with the most loving words, and praise you as if you were a goddess (which you are for him)

but once you’re there he just giggles and smiles like a child

if you get prepared for an important event for example, and you arrive with a gorgeous outfit, beautifully done hair and all that

he’ll stop moving (maybe even breathing) for a while, his cheeks as red as cherries

and then he’ll hug you lovingly, maybe kiss you if you don’t have lipstick on 

it is very rare for him to put it into words

maybe if you get married he’ll finally praise you while you’re here, in front of him? ;)

anyways we’re done here :)

smutty part below!

I don’t think hongjoong ever had sex before you

or if he did it was with some one night stands he doesn’t remember

but still he was quite shy during your first time

he wouldn’t dare look at you at first, both because he thinks his face would go fully red, and because he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable

he still touches you a lot, a bit awkwardly at first because it wasn’t the same with no clothes on anymore :’)

might stare a bit even though he tries to control himself so you don’t feel too oppressed lmao

moans a lot, he can’t stay quiet, even when you’re just making out

no matter what position you’re in, he likes having a hand in your hair, caressing it as if praising you for whatever you were both doing

he talks quite a lot too

saying how he feels, asking you questions to make sure you’re okay, it’s like he says each and every thoughts that goes in his mind

“woah,, again please”

“do you like it that way? should i go on?”

“moan again for me honey”

“you can’t keep your hands to yourself, huh?” 

ofc he has to be a tease when he feels the most confident

i feel like he’s a switch, but still more on the dominant side

like he goes sub mode when you ask him to, but the rest of the time hes dominant

prefers doing it in bed, in your shared bedroom

maybe sometimes in the living room or in the bathroom, but never out of the appartment, even for a quickie

(so making him horny outside of home is very fun to watch, because he cannot do anything on the spot, and just glares at you while hiding his bulge as much as he can)

even tho he is a dom, i think he likes it when you ride him

he loves watching you on top of him

but still orders you around with his hands on your hips, his fingers tracing on your stretch marks

overall he has a great stamina, he could go for 2 rounds easily, maybe 3 sometimes :)

[florianniss]

Dungeons and Drag Queens

RatedE, Identityporn, drag queen AU.

“What’s her name?”

Steve is drunk, three towns away from his usual bar, sitting with an also-drunk, total stranger he’s pretty sure is hitting on him. He has to be awake and alert and ready to get on a plane for his next sales event in six hours, and he should be scraping himself out of his chair to pay the tab and climb into a taxi. But he finds himself completely and utterly mesmerized, unable even to blink in case he loses sight of the most stunning –

His table companion slides a program across the table, leans over and breathes hot, hoppy air right into his ear. “Nat Twen Tee.”

Steve looks down at the flyer and doesn't even try to mask the groan he makes.

Not only is this – individual – bewitchingly magnetic, drawing and keeping Steve’s full attention since she stepped into view, of course she has a name like that.

“As in –”

“Yup.” Drunk, Flirty Guy laughs, elbowing him aggressively. “Nerdy, isn’t it?”

Steve swallows back a second groan as he answers. “It sure is.”

They fall silent, as silent as a couple of guys pretending to be straight can be in the audience of an underground drag show where the likes of Nat Twen Tee can be found. They watch as she smiles and laughs, all business-like. She’s got a job to do, patrons to entertain, belting out the lyrics to Prince’s Kiss in a falsetto that makes the Purple One proud. She’s all dressed up, too, wearing a black sequined slink of a thing. And Steve recognizes he’s being sexist as he appreciates every seductive, curvy inch of her.

He does it anyway.

She’s got big brown eyes that crinkle all around the edges when she smiles, and her nose scrunches into the cutest little buttony thing. Her face is long and thin, just like the rest of her. Except when she turns around and Steve catches sight of the juicy swell of her ass beneath the tightness of her dress. She’s far enough away that he can’t tell exactly what her arm tattoos are, but one thing he can see is that she’s doing absolutely nothing to keep hold of her tuck.

Nat is well-hung indeed.

“Hey, man,” the Not-So-Stranger says, elbowing him hard enough to rattle Steve’s drink in his hand. “Wanna go upstairs?”

Steve just then notices Ms. Twen Tee is looking his way. He’s been so busy staring at her package that he forgot about those soul-searing eyes, and when he realizes he’s been caught ogling, he feels his face go ridiculously hot.

Still, he can’t look away. 

Steve’s decided the Guy next to him talks a lot, and Steve isn’t really one for words when there is a show going on.

She’s not the only one there, of course. Five or six other girls twirl about the space, packed with as many tables as they could cram into the basement room. The audience is made up of all sorts, men and women and unitendifiables all. It’s the kind of place someone like him could disappear from reality for a while.

Flirty Drunk Guy grabs Steve’s elbow and gives it another shake. “C’mon. Let’s go upstairs.”

Steve tears his eyes away from the singer’s to meet a red face, all goofy smile and a sideways slide to his gaze.

“What’s upstairs?”

Suggestive eyes slow blink Steve like he’s trying to charm a cat. “Dude,” is all he says. 

It’s a few moments before Steve looks down on the guy’s fingers stroking his arm, and he understands.

Oh.

“Oh. No, I’m not —“

Insistent Flirty Guy laughs again. It’s mocking this time. “Neither am I.”

He grins, and it’s suddenly clear what he means.

“No,” Steve tries to explain. “I’m not here for that.”

He’s terrified of ‘that,’ actually. Glory holes give him panic attacks. Sure, it’s supposed to be hot as fuck and fun for both parties. But sticking his dick into an unseen space gives him nightmares. How does he know he’s not about to be dismembered by a satan worshiper? Maybe someone has a vendetta against penis-wielders, or the kind of married guys who visit them and swear they’re wholly devoted to their wives. And then there’s the whole not knowing who has AIDS in broad daylight, let alone in a dark and sketchy sex room. He’s seen what happens to those men, wasting away while their loved ones disown them and leave them to die alone —

No. He’ll stick to his hand and a well-lubed toy, thanks. 

Insistent Drunk Dude shrugs and lets go of Steve with some reluctance. That or his muscles are numb with alcohol, too.

“Fine. Maybe I’ll see you around.” He sounds hopeful. He looks hopeful.

Steve’s stomach churns uncomfortably. Answering seems like an admission. “Maybe.”

It’s not that the guy is unattractive, built like Steve likes them, with long lashes and pretty eyes. He’s just a little too — eager. Steve’s only just talked himself into visiting the bar, let alone doing — that — with a complete stranger.

Proposition Man backs away and ends up running right into Ms. Twen Tee, who holds up both hands to stop from being knocked over. Eager Guy spins and, upon realizing who he’s bumped into, grabs her bicep and tries to pull her in. He grins and his eyes slip down the length of her front. His hand moves to the place where his gaze has fallen to the bulging, slightly-curved shape of her cock. And it looks like —

Like he’s going to feel her up.

It happens quickly. Steve lunges forward and grabs Handsy Guy by his collar, yanking him backward so hard the stitches rip around his neck. He looks back at Steve with horror, and suddenly there are about three or four really big guys (like, twice as big as Steve) putting hands on both of them.

A scuffle ensues. Steve gets shoved around. The other man is jostled and then pushed none too gently onto his stomach. He makes a shocked sound as one of the bouncers shoves a knee between his shoulder blades, one arm bent back at a painful angle. He cries out, and no one listens. They just stand there watching him, flat on the floor.

It hits Steve a little late; they’re about to do the same thing to him.

The truth is, Steve is stressed. His boss is one of those Type A personalities, always pushing, pushing, pushing for his underlings to sell, sell, sell. Steve likes the clients he’s assigned to; they’re good people who love the motorcycle industry just like him. But no matter how much time he spends on the phone, no matter how many miles he puts under his belt, working bike shows and putting a face to the company name, he hates how he’s driven to do more, be better, faster, smarter than the competition.

In a word, he hates being pushed.

So, when two hulk-like men grab and arm each and start to force him to the ground, of course he puts up a fight.

It’s telling how drunk he really is, because he’s never head-butted anyone in his life. It doesn’t hurt all that much, at least, not at first, and his vision only blurs for what has to be a few seconds or so. It stuns one of his captors enough for Steve to wrench his arm free, to twist around and land a punch in the other’s solar plexus. And he would have hauled back for another one if the voice of Heaven didn't interrupt the whole thing.

“Hey! Let him go!”

It’s Nat Twen Tee. She’s stepped into the fray and is shouting at the top of her angelic lungs.

“He’s trying to help, guys! He saw the whole thing and stepped in first!”

One of Steve’s arms is wrenched behind his back, stretched much farther than it’s ever meant to be. Nat pushes through the chaos and shoves the guy Steve head-butted out of the way. Then she gets a hand on Steve’s shoulder and starts to pry him away from the other guy’s stronghold.

Her touch is like molten lava on his already heated skin.

The room has gotten much, much smaller. Patrons and staff have surrounded them, all intent on breaking up what they assume is a brawl. Steve’s allowed free, but he can’t go very far. He’s pushed chest to chest with Nat, and she’s running a soothing hand over his shoulder. And her big brown eyes are trying to ruin him in the middle of a throng of assorted onlookers. And she smells fucking amazing.

“You OK?” she asks, and it’s like music when she speaks. Up close, her ruby red lipstick is outlined in a perfectly applied dark red border. The rouge on her porcelain cheeks is painted high into her cheekbones. And the traditional, over-the-eyebrow shadow sparkles in the available light, silver and red, and it's stunning.

“Yeah,” Steve lies. His shoulder is on fire, and not because she’s kneading it with her long fingers. She’s being careful not to scratch him with her jewel-studded fingernails. That much is certain. And he thinks, as long as she keeps looking at him like that, maybe he won’t throw himself off a high bridge to escape the pressure of adult life.

It’s not what he expected, turning twenty-two. He thought by now he’d have a nice car, a Mustang GT, 5.0, V-8 with four on the floor. He thought he’d have his own swanky apartment in the city, not the penthouse, but at least on the tenth floor or higher. He thought he’d own a Rolex and Tom Ford and at least six motorcycles of various makes and models. And he thought he’d have a girlfriend whose parents think he’s the best thing that ever happened to her.

Instead?

Instead, he drives a 1973 Honda CB750, which isn’t a bad bike for a vintage cafe racer, although it leaks gas and burns oil, and he hasn’t found a good Wrench he trusts with her yet. Instead, he shares an apartment on the upper floor of a bakery with 17-year-old Dustin Henderson, who lives, eats, and breathes the Dungeon Master that he is. Instead, he wears a Swatch and Chinos and an old, beat-up K&N racing jacket that a client gave to him as a perk. And the closest thing he has to a girlfriend is a feisty lesbian who bosses him around like he’s her personal slave.

And to top it off, he's got these confusing feelings about both sexes that his strict religious father would have kicked him out of the house if not for -

Well.

When Ms. Twen Tee tugs him away from the aftermath of a physical take-down, pulls him through the crowd and up the back stairs, out into the dark alley and cold, fresh air, Steve follows like a puppy dog.

He marvels at how very strong she is.

She props him up against the wall, all caring and gentle-like, towers over him in her stiletto heels that she masters without tipping an ankle once. She looks down on him with something like fondness, and Steve practically melts in a puddle at her feet.

Ms. Twen Tee runs the back of her fingers over the splitting ache in his forehead. “You didn’t have to do that, Big Boy.”

And, oh, the way she says it makes him feel like a wanted man.

“Nah. You’re working. Nobody should bother women when they work.”

It’s stupid, masochist, and he regrets saying it the moment the words spill off the thickness of his tongue. But Ms. Twen Tee clicks her tongue and tilts her head to one side, fondness increasing ten-fold.

“That’s sweet of you. Do you always say such nice things to the girls you meet?”

Steve is paralyzed by her gaze, frozen in place as she continues to stroke his forehead, as if her touch could provide magical healing to everything that ails him.

“I’m a gentleman,” Steve croaks clumsily. His stomach is churning and his head is burning. “Mama raised me to respect and protect ladies.”

She smiles and smiles and smiles. “Your mama sounds like a saint.”

Steve nods vaguely. He’s feeling quite dizzy now. “My dad doesn’t treat her the greatest. She tries to keep the peace. I watched how he spoke to her, and told myself I was going to do better.”

Why is Steve spilling his guts like this? He hasn’t even told Robin about his verbally abusive father, and the reason he left home the second he turned eighteen.

“Aw. You’re breaking my heart, Sweetie.”

Oh, how Steve’s heart thumps against the constraints of his ribcage.

Ms. Twen Tee stops petting his head and reaches for his collar, straightening it with careful, confident fingers. Steve sways with it, until she flattens both palms against his collarbones and pushes him against the brick wall.

“Let me call you a cab, get you home in one piece.”

She steps back. She turns away. And Steve watches numbly as the love of his life disappears back inside, leaving him alone and feeling suddenly sick to his stomach.

He vomits, of course, all over the alley. It’s a miracle he hadn’t puked all over her pretty black dress. He stumbles out of the way, across the road to lean against the opposite building. He closes his eyes and wipes his mouth and waits and waits and waits. And when she returns, she’s got a friend with her. Another Queen, who wraps a solid, broad arm around his waist and practically carries him down the alley toward the street.

The two women talk in low, unintelligible voices. Steve tries to make out the words, but the pounding in his head drowns it out.

Streetside, a car awaits, but it’s not a taxi of any sort.  Ms. Twen Tee opens the back door and her friend pours him inside. As Steve’s head hits the back of the fake leather seat, a warm body presses inside to join him.

“Honey,” she says, shifting his legs out of the way of the door and further into the car. “Here.”

A bag of ice is forced into his hand, lifted against the probable bump on his forehead. He leans into it with relief, leans into her to soak up her smell, mentally kicks himself for being such a romantic, chivalrous idiot.

She says exactly what he’s thinking. “I think he needs to see a doctor.”

The other Queen’s voice comes from the front seat and sides with Steve. “He’s an idiot.”

Ms. Twen Tee shushes her, pushes him again until he rests against the opposite door. The window is cool on his cheek. He switches hands on the ice bag so his elbow is propped against the armrest.

“I’ll be fine,” he argues. “Just. Just need to go home.”

A firm hand grasps his knee, and soft, firm lips press against his other cheek. 

“My hero,” she whispers into his ear, and it’s so much better than Handsy, Forcibly Ejected Guy’s flirting from before. 

“Nah. Anyone would have done the same.”

A deep chuckle vibrates the air. Fingernails pry open his available hand. Something like a business card is slipped into his palm.

“You come back someday and be my VIP guest. There’ll be a table up front with your name on it.”

Another kiss on his cheek, and she’s pulling away. She’s pulling away and slamming the door, and he’s left an embarrassed, concussed heap in a strange Queen’s car.

“Where are we going?” the friend asks, and her voice is rough and gravelly, not at all sweet and smooth like Hers.

Steve gives his address, cringes at the startled shock the driver gives because it’s so far away. But the vehicle starts, and the engine hums. And he’s being driven home, a knight bested and beaten, knowing full well he’s never, ever coming back.

On AO3.

[thebeanofdoom]

Spreading the SoapGaz agenda

I've noticed a critical lack of SoapGaz content in the CoD fandom so I'm determined to fill that hole myself, even if it takes me ages. So, here, have some headcanons that I've made up in my little gremlin brain.

Gaz was the first to fall in love with Soap and he realized it while watching the Scot try and balance various items on a sleeping Price's hat without waking him up

Soap on the other hand didn't realize he was in love with his best friend until said best friend almost took another tumble out of a chopper if Soap hadn't lurched forward and pulled him back by the front of his vest, toppling them both back onto the floor of the chopper and making Gaz land on top of him

Cue the gay panic of having our pretty boy Gaz right on top of him, add to that a big dose of adrenaline and Gaz thanking him in a breathless voice and there you have it: one gay as hell Scotsman by the name of Soap McTavish

Neither of them wanted to confess for fear of ruining their friendship, but Gaz especially had a problem keeping his feelings for the Scot under wraps so he went to Price to rant and rave about how "He smiled at me when we sparred and it was so worth the fist to the jaw"

Price doesn't get paid enough to deal with this

It all ends when Soap forgets one of his journals on a table in their rec room, going off to do sth else and Gaz walked in and saw it

Now, usually Gaz would never look at Soap's journal without his express permission but the Scot had been extremely jumpy lately, whenever Gaz got too close to him while he was sketching Lord knows what, so he was a lot tiny bit curious

He quickly checked if anyone was around before picking the journal up and it flipped open on the most recent drawing

Gaz froze when he saw himself on the page, a simple black and white pencil drawing of his face in various angles, smiling, frowning, concentrated

Was this how Soap saw him? And then he noticed something scribbled at the bottom of the page and his heart damn near beat out of his chest

There, at the bottom of the page were what seemed to be song lyrics: All my emotions feel like explosions when you are around

"Gaz?" Said man startled as he heard Soap's voice behind him. He didn't even try to hide the journal in his hand, his heart almost beating out of his chest as he turned to the man of his affections

Soap's gaze dropped to the journal in Gaz' hand, specifically what page the other man had been looking at and flushed a very attractive shade of red

Soap tried to get out some kind of explanation but he didn't get far before Gaz stepped closer in big strides, grabbed the Scot by the shirt and pulled him into a kiss

"I like you too," Gaz murmured after they broke apart, resting their foreheads against each other and gazing into each other's eyes

"That's what I was hoping this kiss meant," Soap smiled

After that they became the sickeningly sweet couple that would give anyone diabetes from how disgustingly cute they were together (Ghost's words)

Price was just glad he didn't have to listen to Gaz rant about Soap's stupid mohawk that "the fucker somehow managed to pull off" or how sexy the Scot looked while lifting weights

To get revenge Price sat them all down and proceeded to pull out a safe sex lecture, including a powerpoint and free condoms

"No! Absolutely the fuck not! I got the talk from mah father once, never again!" Soap yelled, cherry red in the face and dragged a similarly mortified Gaz out of the room with him while Ghost cackled like a madman (he did grab the free condoms on the way out though :))

So, this kind of ran away with me and turned into more of a "getting together" ficlet but oh well, what can you do. I hope you liked it and if you got any other ideas for short fics, headcanons or otherwise CoD related shenanigans, come yell at me in my asks

[initiala]

Gonna yap about Wicked under the cut so, spoilers

Yes, I did see it with my mom but she doesn’t appreciate the fandom nitpicking I do, even if it’s a loving nitpick, so I can’t yell about this irl

So I’ve been saying this everywhere but I *love* that Ari was let off her leash and got to be the absolute theater kid menace she’s been since she was a child. Jon Chu deserves an Oscar for this movie in general, but especially for telling her “yeah go ahead and do whatever you want”. She was chewing that scenery like no tomorrow.

Iiiiiii wanna swiiiiiiiiing from the chandelierrrrrrrrrrr

Like honestly. And what makes it better is that yeah, this looks like vapid and shallow Galinda who doesn’t Get It, but she absolutely does. I know Glinda has been generally intelligent, if a bit sweet and naive, in other productions, but this was cunning and calculated. In so many of her close-ups, you see her eyes darting around and sizing up the situation and seeing what she needs to do in order to be at the center of the room. You get the verbal confirmations of this when she says, in disbelief and a bit impressed, that for the first time someone told her no. She’s an expert manipulator to get what she wants, and that’s part of what draws her to Elfie—Elfie doesn’t give a shit and doesn’t let her. It’s infuriating at first but then that’s what ultimately breaks the barrier between them—both of these girls care so deeply what everyone else thinks about them but handle it in such different ways. Elfie puts on her mask of indifference, Galinda does everything she can to make everyone think well of her no matter what.

Meanwhile Fieyro is intrigued by Elfie for the same reason—she’s also the first person to ever turn him down, but instead of loathing he’s like “well well well, how interesting”. She’s the first person to see exactly who he is, who he can’t hide from.

Cynthia does SUCH a good job of being stoic Elphaba, small smiles or micro expressions in her eyes to tell us what she’s really thinking. The only time she really breaks is to Nessa, but even with Nessa she can’t really be herself. I wish we got a little more time between “Popular” and “One Short Day” to actually let Elphaba and Galinda develop more as friends (the only real indication that time has passed is Elphaba’s braids are longer). Are we gonna get the wheat field scene where Galinda puts her head on Elfie’s shoulder in Part 2? Or was that just intended as a “well, other stuff happened” too.

But the CHOICES made with Cynthia!!! She had me with the first note of “The Wizard and I”. The RAINBOW SUNCATCHER CHANGING HER SKIN TONE!!!! The way she joyously ran through the fields and practically screamed her desires out towards the desert—perfection

Jumping around, I’m also so glad they had the girls marching up the staircase during the first part of “Defying Gravity” (we will hold space for the lyrics), because it’s absolutely a “walk and talk” kind of song and I needed that visual more than I care to admit. There’s some songs where you’re like “oh yeah if this wasn’t on a stage (or if they had the rotating stage like in Hamilton) they’d be walking to get to the big Belting Chorus Area”

I’m extremely curious how this interpretation will go during Part 2 in regards to Glinda’s magic. We know in the 1939 movie, yeah she makes the bubble and creates the snow and moves the slippers to Dorothy’s feet. But here we haven’t seen her make magic, and it’s kinda clearly implied the bubble transport is something created by the Wizard. Is she going to be able to develop rudimentary skills or is it going to be entirely smoke and mirror?

Look, I know Jeff Goldblum was a good choice for the Wizard. He is. He has his lil charming song with “Sentimental Man” and that’s all he needs, but he is also so extremely obviously Elphaba’s father in the beginning. They’re not just dropping foreshadowing, they’re waving big flags and holding a parade. You can’t un-Jeff Goldblum Jeff Goldblum, no matter how well you hide his face!! This is not the surprise we get at the end 😂

Jonathan Bailey. That’s it.

I wanna know more about Galinda’s toadies—did they know her from Upper Upland? She doesn’t seem to be a returning student, so how does everyone seem to know her ahead of time? I don’t remember how that went in the books, and they’re movie inventions.

OH SPEAKING OF THE BOOKS DANGIT okay so at the beginning. We pan out from the castle and see someone riding away fast on the bridge??? Dorothy’s group is already ahead on the yellow brick road. So who’s fleeing the castle on the bridge? My only thought so far has been Lir, but I have absolutely no idea exactly how much more they’ll be borrowing from the books to expand. If it follows the musical ending Elfie and Fieryo will run away together anyway.

[sillygonk]

Strings of Devotion [ao3]

summary: Samurai is rapidly gaining popularity, despite being relatively new to the industry. The group leader and vocalist, Johnny Silverhand, quickly became a heartthrob, furtherly increasing the band's reputation. But their path to money and fame can’t be too easy. Banzai Riot, another fresh Night City band, is gaining fans just as quickly as Samurai, and is led by an enigmatic girl known as "V". As both bands soar in popularity, their rivalry (or rather rivalry between the leaders) escalates, fueled by a one-of-a-kind opportunity – Battle of the Bands competition with a three-year contract from Universal Recording as the grand prize. Will they jump down each other's throats first chance they get, or will they find a common ground amidst their shared journey to success?

pairing: Johnny Silverhand/V

word count: 4,4k

Chapter II ->

Chapter I – Get in gonk, we’re going to get famous!

In the waking world, where reality's gleam, I long for the man from my nightly dream. When I try to reach, he fades from my sight, Leaving me alone in the quiet night.

In the first rays of light I whisper his name, But he's vanished, like…

Like, uh… Like…

Fuck.

“Writer's block again?”

V stopped scribbling and looked up at Raf from her notebook. “Yeah,” she ran a hand through her ruffled hair. “I… It's just, like, my brain is playing hide-and-seek and I’m losing every fucking round. Fucking pisses me off.”

She tried to break through that creative barrier for the past hour, while ignoring both the loud music playing in the background and the lively banter of her bandmates gathered around their favorite booth at El Coyote Cojo. This rickety old thing had seen it all and was marked by years of their spilled drinks, drumstick banging and even jack-knife carvings on the tabletop, for which they got an earful from Pepe couple years back.

V was mindlessly running her fingers along the gashes, cursing under her breath. Seeing her frustration, Raf sighed heavily into his beer and took a sip. “I think you just need to chill, you know? Take it easy. Clear your head.”

“Ooor, you know,” Nova smirked. ”Fuck what he said and let’s start a good ol’ bar brawl and see where the night takes us. That will give you some inspiration.”

“Yeah, ��cause I need another fucking charges on my record,” V snorted, looking into her friend's pink optics. “Plus, Mamá would kill me if I blew up in her bar again.”

“I’m not saying here. I‘m saying, like, in general.”

“Maybe don’t say anything else, how ‘bout that?” Raf sighed again.

V just rolled her eyes at them. Like fire and water, Nova and Raf were total opposites. Nova thrived on chaos. She was beautiful, loud, and was always drawing attention wherever she went. Even though she was a big softie on the inside, Nova had an unapologetic attitude and was a force to be reckoned with. Raf on the other hand was the epitome of calm and collected for most of the time, but behind his composed exterior hid a batshit crazy madness. Sometimes, when his rational façade would crack, he’d dive headfirst into the unknown just for the giggles. He was also, as the only guy in the band, just a baby.

She equally loved and hated them sometimes.

“What about that new track you've been working on, V?” Misty chimed in and started humming. “The one with the killer riff?”

“Ah, that one,” V sipped her beer. "Well, I have a track with no lyrics. Nothing we will make outta this.”

“We can say it’s a ballad and call it a day.”

A drink almost flowed out of V’s nose when she snorted.

“Yea, I don’t think that would be enough, Mist.”

Nothing was ever enough anymore, it sometimes seemed. Ever since they started taking music seriously, nothing had been the same.

At first, it had all been just for fun – they had been just a pack of raggedy teens who tried to find a way to blow off some steam in a safer way then jumping into gang life or ending up as dorphers. It started in abandoned garages or basements with klepped equipment and no skills. Their learning stage had been laughable at best, but it was better than wandering the streets looking for trouble. They honed their skills, at first getting somewhat good and then better and better each day. They began to realize that their music held a power beyond mere entertainment. It was their way to escape the reality for a while. It even became a lifeline in the darkest of times.

Then, slowly but surely, a shy idea rooted in their minds that maybe, just maybe, they could turn their passion into something more. Sometimes they dared to dream of a future where music was not just a hobby, but a way of life.

In the beginning they ignored these silly dreams, thinking they were too big for their own good. However, over time, they managed to convince one or two owners of second-rate pubs to let them play here and there. Then they even got the courage to ask Mamá Welles if they could play at the Coyote and to their delight, she agreed right away. “I thought you'd never ask,” she even said. To their even bigger delight, after their little gig, she told them that they should think of it more seriously. And that was it. For the first time they really thought the idea through and made their decision.

The legends of this city.

And now, here they were, stuck in one place, trapped in the shadows of their own ambition. They still had almost no name, no money, and in their minds, no prospects in a city where everyone wants to be a legend. They were getting somewhat recognizable locally, but it was too little and too slow. They all knew that their path to a breakthrough would be rocky, but come on. Not that rocky.

Still, they were refusing to let their dreams die. They may have been naive back then, when they made that decision, but now? Now they knew that they were meant for something more. They may not have been the most fortunate, but they had their passion, their perseverance, and, most importantly, the unbreakable bond that held them together. Which was cringe if V thought about it long enough, but she wasn’t one to denied it.

And as V reflected on those formative years, she couldn't help but smile at the memory of the innocent teens with stars in their eyes. They persisted despite the hardships, living hand-to-mouth, with empty pockets but unbroken spirits. They poured their hearts into every chord, every lyric, clinging to the hope that someday, their determination would pay off. They just needed to do better and be better. Better than anyone else.

So no, V didn’t think that leaving their song at “ballad” stage would be enough.

“Alright, V,” Raf placed a hand on her shoulder, his voice soft but firm. “Show me the stuff.”

“It’s not finished,” V stated, trying to hide her notebook away.

“And it will never be finished if you’ll keep gatekeep us, you gonk.”

This time it was V who sighed. Even though Raf was (usually) right, she would never admit it out loud. Fucking smartass. She handed him her notebook.

As Raf flipped through the pages, he nodded or shook his head while reading her never finished lyrics. V was on the edge of her seat, waiting for his take. When he finally got to the latest part, he laughed.

“The man from my nightly dream? Who the fuck you writing about?”

“Not your fucking business, that’s who,” V scowled, snatching the notebook from his hands.

“Hey, I’m not saying it’s bad. I’m saying it’s a bit corny.”

“Then you write something, funny guy,” V rolled her eyes. “You are all trash today, seriously. Maybe except Misty.”

She wasn’t going to count the silent one, Prime, as she was baked out of her mind in the corner of their booth, as usual, not bothering anyone.

“Why thank you,” Misty smiled. “And don’t listen to them. Writer's block is just another hurdle in the vast maze of creativity. Take a step back, breathe in the chaos of the world around you, and let it fuel your imagination. Night City wasn't built in a day, and neither is a masterpiece. Just trust your abilities, trust the process, and you'll be back in the zone before you know it.”

A small smile spread on V’s lips. Misty, always the sweetheart, was her forever favorite addition to the band.

“Thanks Mist. You’re seriously an angel.”

“I know,” she smiled sweetly. “Maybe I should give you a reading?”

“Eh, not today,” she drank rest of beer in one gulp. “You will pull out The Fool card and my mood will be ruined.”

“V, I told you hundred times now, The Fool card does not-“

“Yeah, yeah, it does not mean I’m the fool, I know. Still doesn’t make me feel any better when you pull it out every single time,” she murmured under her breath, suddenly irritated at the stupid card. Misty only giggled and pat V’s head.

“Is there any way to make your mood better then?”

“Yeah. I need another drink.”

As if on cue, Jackie appeared on the top of the stairs, walking towards their table with a tray full of beers, smiling widely.

“Hola fuckers. And Misty.”

“Jackie, my man!” Raf greeted him with a grin, sliding over to make room for him. “Finally missed us enough to crawl out of a studio?”

The man in question shot a quick glance at Misty and V tried to hide the smirk, though unsuccessfully, when she saw her friend blush.

“Maybe a bit,” he placed the tray on the table and sat next to Raf, stretching out on the bench. “But I come with big news and you’re going to lose your minds.”

“We’ll see. What do you have?” V nodded at him, already reaching out for a beer.

Jackie placed a flyer on the table. “A chance for you to finally make a name. Music contest.”

“Music contest?” Nova frowned and leaned in to take a better look at the brochure. “Like a talent show for kids at school?”

V silently agreed with the comparison. In her mind's eye, she couldn't shake the image of over-the-top judges acting like they know shit, fumbled mediocre performances and uninterested applause. They would most probably end up as some kind of puppets, doing mere sideshow for the amusement of others.

“Hey, don’t insult me, chica. I wouldn’t have come to you with this if it was not legit. This isn’t some dive bar competition, it’s an opportunity, a big one. And, it’s in Afterlife,” Jackie wiggled his eyebrows.

Afterlife? The Afterlife, a cornerstone of Night City's underground music scene? And, sure, mercenary work offered by first-rate fixers, or whatever, since lines between the criminal underworld and the artsy trades somehow got really blurry there, but dude. The music scene. Everyone who wanted to become someone dreamed about Afterlife. This was where real deals were made.

Well. V could re-consider being a puppet if it takes place in the Afterlife.

“So… It is legit?”

“Por supuesto. At least check it.”

Nova reached for the flyer with a heavy sigh and read it quickly. “Batlle of the Bands, yada yada, big opportunity for newbie bands- newbie? I ain’t a newbie, it’s you guys who are amateurs.”

“Just fucking read it Nova,” Raf grimaced.

“Fine, Christ. The competition will consist of presentation and three phases, yada yada yada, oh, OHH!” She exclaimed excitedly and sat on her knees. “The winner will sign a three-year contract with Universal Recording. Guys, Universal Recording! It really is legit!”

“What did I just say?” Jackie rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. But seriously, we've been playing gigs at crappy joints for too long. This really could be our big break.”

“Where did you even heard about it, Jackie?” Misty frowned.

“Wakako tipped me off about it,” he shrugged. “Talked with her about you guys copula times, guess she thought it might help you. As soon as she got the detes she let me know. I’m actually surprised that you didn’t already knew about this. Wasn’t Dex supposed to take care of stuff like that? This is a huge deal.”

“Well, Dex is a shitty manager,” V scoffed. “Fucking unbelievable that your cares about us more than our own.”

V met Jackie’s manager a couple of times now. Wakako Okada was a fucking scary woman. Professional and polite, sure, always treating everyone with the same level of respect and courtesy, but she was also reading you like an open book, her piercing gaze seemed to see straight through your core, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. And yet, despite not knowing her very well (and low-key being scared of her), V couldn't help but feel a deep respect for Wakako. She was one of the best in the business, after all, and there was no denying that. If Wakako wasn’t representing solo artists exclusively, and only within the rap and hip-hop genre, V would gladly sell her kidney to afford hiring her. At least Jackie made the cut, and V was really happy that he was able to work with the woman. She let him spread his wings and he was currently recording his first album under her watchful eye. Lucky bastard.

“You seriously should take care of your own biz all the more,” the lucky bastard said.

Guess he was right. They couldn't really deny the allure of this whole shebang. After all, when opportunity like this is literally knocking at their door, they couldn't afford to lose it. Especially if they were left to their own devices. V glanced around at her bandmates with a flicker of hope and was met with excited smiles and silent nods. From all except one since Prime was still spaced out and didn’t say a word since they sat down at the table.

Prime. Always a woman of few words. It might have something to do with her always being stoned, but, as she always said, no one had any proof for that. And she was right, if her constantly bloodshot eyes and the smell of pot that clung to her clothes were not proof enough.

V nudged her lightly.

“Astra? You with us?”

“Huh? Yeah,” Prime blinked slowly, her gaze drifting lazily towards V. “Sup?”

“We have a situation,” V handed her a flyer. “Big shit, big chance. We might even score a record deal. What do you think, we’re in or we’re out?”

Astra took a minute to check out the brochure and nodded slowly. “Oh, hell yeah, we’re in.”

“Really?” V beamed.

“Yeah, dude. That sounds cool,” she focused on the flyer once again and her eyes widened. “Yooo, this in Afterlife? Are we finally hitting the big leagues or sum?”

“That’s the plan, babygirl,” Nova laughed at her stoned enthusiasm.

“Oh, hell yeah, that sound epic.”

“Aight,” V nodded. “Then we just need to get the application and-” she fell silent when she saw Jackie pull application card and a pen from his inside pocket. “The big man thought of everything I see. Thanks Jacks.”

“A sus órdenes, chica,” he saluted mockingly.

“Kay. Guess we’re really fucking doin’ it,” V started to filling up their application with a goofy grin. “Nova, you want to go with full name?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever. Badges don’t have anything on me anymore, I don’t give a shit.”

“Cool, cool,” V quickly finished putting in their detes. “Okay gonks, sign this up and I’m taking it to the Afterlife.”

“I'll tag along,” Raf quipped in, already signing the papers. “I should get going anyway, I have morning shift tomorrow, so I’ll at least keep you company for a while.”

V narrowed her eyes at him.

“You just want me to drive you home afterwards, don’t you?”

“Yup.”

“Fine.”

When the papers were signed and the beers were finished, everyone decided to go their separate ways. Raf wasn't the only one working in the morning after all. The booth cleared and the gang headed downstairs, empty glasses in hand, so that Pepe wouldn't have to clean up after them.

Finding an opportunity, V tugged on Jackies sleeve, pulling him away from the group.

“Will you ever ask her out, Jacks?” V smirked at the man.

Jackie stuttered, tips of his ears turning red at the question.

“Dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Oh really? Well, that’s a shame,” she hummed. “Misty would be thrilled.”

“You think?” his eyes gleamed and V laughed.

“Yea, you gonk. You just need to finally grow your balls,” she punched him on the arm, which he most probably didn’t even felt.

Jackie’s gaze wandered to Misty again. He cleared his throat and nodded, but pushed V to the side when she laughed at him. They said their goodbyes to Pepe and went outside.

“I, uh, I’ll take Prime home,” Nova winked at V with a smirk, which she returned, silently acknowledging their shared mission.

“Right, we should be on our way too. Need to take this pretty girl home.”

“Aw, you think I’m pretty?” Raf batted his eyelashes.

“The prettiest.”

“Prettier than Nova?”

“I heard that!” Nova yelled, already a few steps ahead, tugging Astra along. “You kids be safe. See ya tomorrow.”

V laughed and waved at them, then pointed at Jackie. “See you soon, Jacks?”

“Obviously,” he smiled. “Still have some jobs bagged, waiting for us.”

“I sure hope so. We need to finish them before you’ll be too famous for that,” she hugged him tightly.

“Still have a lot of time,” he ruffled her hair.

With a quick wave to Misty, assuring her she will be home soon, V and Raf made their way to where V's motorcycle was parked nearby, trying to disappear quickly and leave the lovebirds alone. She swung a leg over the back of the bike.

“Hop on, babygirl,” she patted the seat. Raf sat down behind her, but not without rolling his eyes. He wrapped his arms around her waist.

“That’s like, what, twenty minute drive?”

“I’ll make it in fifteen,” V smirked and revved the engine.

They took off, making their way through the streets of Night City, wind whipping through their hair. V weaved through late-night traffic with ease, the scenery shifting from the gleaming towers of the corpo districts to the gritty urban sprawl of the combat zones, flickering streetlights flashing by in a blur. Though the journey was quick, V still sighed sadly when she checked the time after parking the bike in the dark alley. Seventeen minutes.

They made their way inside and paused briefly to explain to the security guy why they were here. He nodded in acknowledgment before directing them to the bartender. As they stepped further into the bar, V felt a thrill of excitement going down her spine. Just being here was enough for her to feel less stuck and more hopeful about their future. They reached the bar and she smiled at the woman.

“Hey.”

“Hi. What can I getcha?”

“Rather, what we can get you. Application for the Battle of the Bands,” Raf flashed his charming smile at the woman, while V pulled out their application.

“Alright kids,” she smirked and reach out. “Let me just check the papers real quick, can't ignore the drill.”

She took the application from V’s hand, took a moment to glance over it, her expression thoughtful. Then, with a nod of approval, she returned it to them.

“Looks good to me. Now I just need the entry fee and you’re good to go.”

“Entry fee?” Raf’s smile faded.

“Yup. There’s always a catch,” she tapped at the bottom of the papers. Both V and Raf looked down.

NOTE: entry fee – 3,500 ed

V huffed and rubbed at her eyebrow nervously. Nova and her fucking reading comprehension.

“Shit. Just… Just gimme a minute, okay? I need to make a call.”

“Who you callin’?” Raf frowned.

“Dex. We ain’t gonna pay from our own pocket, he’s the fucking manager, he need to manage,” she moved away from the bar and headed towards the exit.

“Whoa, wait then, I need to hear you chewing him out,” he laughed and winked at Claire. “We’ll be right back.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Claire chuckled and shook her head to herself as they made their way out. They were kinda adorable, she had to admit, with wide eyes but still exuding self-confidence. With a little smirk on her face, Claire got back to polishing the countertop as out of the corner of her eye she noticed a tall figure in leather jacket approaching the bar. She let out a resigned sigh.

“What now?”

“Those two that left, did I just saw them submitting an application?”

“Yup. Seems like they're gearing up to give you a run for your money."

“Lemme see their papers, huh?”

“You know I can’t do that, Johnny.”

“I know, but you have a soft spot for me,” he smiled sweetly.

“I do not.”

“And for me?” a second guy approached them.

“Don’t get involved, Kerry, you’re supposed to be the reasonable one.”

Kerry shrugged. “We’re just curious.”

When the woman rolled her eyes, Johnny whined.

“C’mooon, lemme see, I’ve been a good boy today.”

“The day hasn't ended yet,” she raised her eyebrow. He took it as a challenge.

“You poked the bear, Claire,” he snatched the documents before she could stop him.

"Johnny, I said no!" the woman exclaimed, her tone sharp with anger, but it was already too late. He quickly scrutinized the papers, narrowing his eyes, when he saw something he did not wanted to see.

Banzai Riot V – lead vocals, rhythm guitar Lara “Nova” Foster – lead guitar, vocals Rafael Gupta – bass Misty Olszewski – violin Astra Prime – drums

“So?” Kerry urged him. “Who are they?”

Johnny clenched his jaw and showed him their info. Kerry glanced at it, his eyes getting wider.

“The fuckers from Banzai?”

“Apparently.”

He heard about them, of course he did. A new band on the rise, slowly gaining fans and momentum, just like Samurai. Making a name was already hard enough when you're fighting for it with no opponents, but when do you add another young and dynamic team to the race? One that is similar in style, on top of it? Nightmare. It was one thing to compete against other bands, but to go head-to-head with a group that was basically their mirror image was not fucking good. Johnny knew that in the cutthroat world of the music industry, standing out was crucial. But now, with those motherfuckers in the scene, it was going to be so much fucking harder to achieve.

Kerry’s voice got him out of his head.

“Shit, they're coming. Put it back!”

Johnny quickly put the papers back in their place and turned around, nonchalantly leaning on the left side of bar with his elbows, his back to those little fuckers. Kerry, similarly, looked the other way, but both of them strained their ears to get any details about their rivals. Claire rolled her eyes at them.

“Kay, can send you the eddies now,” said the girl rather happily, her eyes glowing with blue.

“Okay, got it. From… V?”

“Yep.”

Oh, so she is the leader. She most certainly didn’t look like one, Johnny thought, barely holding back a snort. A sly grin tugged at the corners of his lips instead, as he processed the newfound information. With long basketball shorts, ripped tank top and checked shirt tied around her waist she hardly looked the part of a rock star. She looked more like someone you'd find shooting hoops at the local court than leading a fucking hardrock band.

As Johnny's mind wandered, Claire's distant voice slowly pulled him back from his thoughts. He blinked, refocusing his attention on the scene unfolding behind his back.

"… your own equipment, ‘cause the sounding is on us. Other than that, you’re all set.”

“Thanks Claire,” he heard the guy’s voice. “Appreciate it, really.”

“No prob. Guess we will see each other often over the next few weeks, so there will be an occasion to say it again, but still good luck.”

“Thanks,” the girl, V, said, and he could hear a smile in her voice. “See ya around, then.”

“See you,” Claire watched them go and when they were out of the earshot, she narrowed her eyes at Johnny and Kerry. “Enjoyed your eavesdropping?”

“Wasn’t even listening to that bubbly little bitch,” Johnny scoffed, turning around to face her again. “Can you fix me a drink?”

The bartender shook her head in disbelief but relented, reaching for a glass and a bottle of tequila. She poured him a new one, which he accepted with quick thanks and returned to his table, Kerry hot on his heels.

“That chick was their vocalist, did you gathered that?”

Kerry glanced at him, a puzzled expression crossing his face. "Huh? Oh, uh, yeah, I guess.”

“You guess? The fuck you mean?”

“I dunno, man,” Kerry shrugged, his gaze wandering back to the direction where their competition disappeared. “Was more focused on checking out the guy she was with.”

“Dumbass,” Johnny groaned. “Well, while you were busy checkin’ out the gonk, I was busy listenin’. Turns out, that chick is the one callin’ the shots."

Kerry's eyes widened in surprise, his attention finally fully focused on Johnny's words. "Seriously?” When he was met with Johnny’s uh-huh, he hummed. “Damn, she sure is unobtrusive,” he thought in silence for a while, but couldn’t suppress a twinge of doubt gnawing at his gut. His brow furrowed with worry. “Think we should be worried?”

"Please, they've got nothing on us. We've got this in the bag," Johnny said, downing his Tequila Old Fashioned.

Sure. They had it in the bag. One hundred percent.

Or, if he was really honest with himself, ninety nine percent.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They stepped out of the bar, their laughter echoed through the dark alley as they made their way back to V’s bike. Raf grinned, his eyes shining with excitement.

“Can you fucking believe it? We have a fucking golden ticket to the Major Leagues!”

“I know,” V smiled, fishing a cigarette from her back pocket. She lit it with a flick of her lighter and took a long drag. “And call me fucking crazy, but I think we stand a chance.”

“Are you kidding? We've got this in the bag, V!”

She smiled at his enthusiasm. He was right. He was fucking right, they could totally score this. All they needed was determination, which they had, confidence, which they had, and a talent, which they obviously also had.

A bit of luck would be also welcome, but to the hell with it – they were working hard for the success and they will succeed. Right now, they just needed to focus, work hard and show all them gonks something good. Something memorable and spectacular. Something…

“Aww, shit.”

“What?”

“Now I really need to think of a new song.”

[landofzero-archive]

Rouge&Ruby - Resulting Love 1

(Location: Outside Ensemble Square)

(Later, early morning)

Jun: (I don’t have any work this morning. But I don’t really know when the work tonight will end.

…… Ibara’s working this afternoon, but he’s already left the Starmony dorms. I confirmed it with Aoba-senpai so there’s no doubt..

In that case, even if no other staff is working at the moment, he’s probably at the office……

In other words, this morning is the only opportunity to talk to Ibara properly!

There’s still a lot of work split between Adam and Eve……

Even when Eden meets together, we never really had any time to talk~

…… I feel like we’re beginning to meet each other’s eyes, but he’s still in the middle of work. He can’t even talk slowly can he?)

…… That’s why today—no, right now—is the time to talk to Ibara!

I can’t drag this confusion on forever!

(Location: CosPro offices)

Jun: Pardon me~

…… Hmm? That’s weird~ The lights are on but nobody’s around.

Heeeey, Ibara?

…………

No, how did he not even reply? Could he be in the conference area?

—I’ve looked around and there’s no sign of him. Then why are the lights on?

I don’t think he’d forget to turn off the light…… Did he leave his seat for a bit then?

No matter how strong ES’s security is, it’d be pretty unsafe to just leave his stuff unattended.

(…… Ah. At the foot of Ibara’s desk, there’s shoes.

Wh- so he’s at work after all! If I wait here a little longer, surely Ibara will come back—)

…… Also… There’s papers on the desk.

The plans for Chocolat Fes include drawings of the live stage. Are the lyrics for the new song in the file……

This time, both Adam and Eve will get new songs. Both of them have a different “vibe” from Eden… I like it~……

I want to show it off on the Chocolat Fes stage as soon as possible♪

And is this…… the storyboard for the next filming that’s been entered~? Plus, with how clear everything is, it must have been drawn by Ibara.

What’s with this glittery illustration here…… Is it a design drawing or something?

I’ve seen it before, it’s related to Eden’s original chocolate. Heeh, what is this feeling……?

……… (Looks over the documents)

(How should I put it, Ibara is the type to write all over the paper…… There’s notes here and there.)

………

Ibara: ………?

(Who could that…… Could it be Jun this time?

I wonder if it’s the latest trend to ambush people in the office while I’m away.)

—What are you doing there?

Jun: Oh, it’s Ibara. Welcome back.

Ibara: I’m back…… However– that’s not the matter at hand. I asked what you were doing at my desk. 

Are you snooping? You also seem to have good ways to spend your time.

Jun: Snooping… With stuff spread out in the open like this I couldn’t help but take a look.

But I did flip through them one by one. Sorry for looking at it without permission.

I came to see you at the office but you weren’t there. Instead it looked like you were dealing with the materials……?

Ibara: Seriously. Even though I only left my seat for a short time, Jun has bad timing……

I just went to get a drink from the stand, so it’s fine.

You came to the office at this hour while I was away…… What would you have done if I was absent to begin with?

Jun: No. You’re the kind of guy who works even on New Year’s so I was pretty confident that you’d be working this morning.

So I didn’t really think about  what would happen if you weren’t there.

Ibara: ………

Jun: Why are you looking at me like “what the hell are you talking about?”

I came here because I had something I needed to do…… I told you earlier that I came to see you.

Ibara: Even though we had plenty of opportunities to do so during work, I got caught up in you going out of your way to say “I came to see you.”

What’s the big deal?

Jun: It’s not really…… I came to see you because I think we need to talk face-to-face.

—I want to apologize for the other day.

Ibara: The other day?

Jun: Looking at the documents spread out here…… I can tell by looking at Ibara’s detailed writing.

No, actually, when you were explaining Chocolat Fes I could feel your hard work and effort. 

And yet I…… Lashed out with an unorganized opinion……

I was against it, and I was worried about you. You must have been annoyed by someone saying stuff like that without knowing your situation.

So that’s why, I want to apologize—

Ibara: No thank you.

Jun: I thought…… Hm?

Just now, what did you say?

Ibara: No thank you, is what I said. There’s no need to apologize, it’s fine, you don’t have to.

Jun: What……?

Ibara: To avoid misunderstandings…… I’d like to say the apology itself was not annoying or anything of the sort.

It certainly made me angry at the time, but now I hardly care at all. So you don’t need to apologize to me, Jun.

Jun: ?

Ibara: By any chance, were you not told?

I don’t care about what you said, nor do I want to keep dragging it on. Additionally, the preparations for Chocolat Fes are going well.

Or rather, the events of that day were still lingering in Jun’s mind.

Jun: ???

Ibara: Fu, fufu……

I thought you were looking at me with a strangely restless look about you at the shoot. So that’s how it was.

Jun: Wh-wh-WHAT!?

Previous | Directory | Next

[motownfiction]

mold

In the summer of 2001, the only thing Sadie’s kids want to hear is the Shrek soundtrack.

She’s not really sure how they got here. Like every other family with children between the ages of three and eleven, they saw Shrek at the theater. They liked it enough. Billy, who’s three, really liked the big red dragon. So when they came upon the soundtrack at Borders a couple months back, Sadie bought it. She remembers thinking the music was pretty fun.

Actually, she remembers Sam saying the music was pretty fun. And if there’s one thing you take Sam’s word about, it’s music.

The kids, as it turns out, have a lot more in common with Sam than Sadie ever assumed. Because they also enjoy the Shrek soundtrack. They enjoy it so much that they miss out on all the new hits of the summer. Years from now, Sadie will discover they weren’t missing much (Who could forget that Atomic Kitten cover of “Eternal Flame,” except for everyone?), but for now, she’s drowning in hell. And hell sounds like “All Star” by Smash Mouth.

It gets worse when the kids learn the lyrics to the song. Even Michael, who normally hates poppy songs like this one, seems into it. He thinks it’s funny.

“Really?” Sadie asks. “You think it’s funny to sing the same song over and over and over while your mother graciously drives you to and from your friends’ houses? To and from the pool? To and from the restaurants you want to go to?”

But Michael doesn’t answer. None of the kids do. Because “All Star” is playing, and they’re singing.

Some-BODY once told me / the WOOOORLD is gonna roll me …

Sadie sighs and accepts her fate at the red light. This is what life is like. Life is schlepping three kids to and from their various schools, activities, and appointments, all with Smash Mouth playing in the background. No, the foreground. It’s too loud to ever be the background.

She thinks back to when she was thirteen, fourteen, fifteen years old. Before she fell asleep, she used to dream about a life like this one. A life where she married Daniel (which happened), where they had kids (which happened), where she was involved with every aspect of their caretaking (which she is). It’s just that when she imagined driving her kids around metro Detroit back then, she imagined them listening to “Take It on the Run,” to make fun of Daniel, who always hated that song. And to be fair, they do that.

At least, they did before the Shrek soundtrack came into their lives.

The light turns green, and All Star whines the chorus.

And all that glitter is go-wold! / Only shooting stars break the mo-wold …

Sadie grits her teeth. What in the world were they thinking, putting an extra W sound in words that have never needed an extra W sound? She’s never written a song before, but she’s pretty sure that if you have to add in extra W sounds, you should probably go back to the drawing board.

“Mommy?”

Sadie jumps herself out of her thoughts. She spots Rosemary in the rearview mirror, a question in her eyes. She looks so much like Daniel, but there’s a little gleam in her eyes that’s very Sadie. Curious about everything. Wondering, wandering.

“What’s up, Rose?”

“What does that mean?” she asks. “Break the mold? Is that like bread?”

“Or penicillin,” Michael cuts in, almost certainly to remind everyone that’s the word that won him the spelling bee this past school year.

“Pencil in,” Billy says, so he can be part of the conversation.

“Mommy?”

Sadie sighs.

“The mold is, like, what people do to fit in,” she says. “It’s when people do what’s expected of them. Do you know what that means?”

Rosemary nods.

“When you act right,” she says.

“Or when you act like people think is right,” she says. “Anyway, when you break the mold, you decide that those expectations aren’t working for you. So you stand out because you’re unique. You do something new. It’s actually a good thing.”

Rosemary nods.

“I wanna break the mold,” she says.

“And I’m sure you will,” Sadie says. “You’re the kind of person who would.”

Rosemary grins, and for a second, she looks more like a Doyle than a DeLuca. Sadie’s heart soars. All summer long, she’s wondered what she did to deserve a bunch of kids who only want to listen to the Shrek soundtrack. But that’s not what she should have seen.

When she was a kid, all she wanted was to find her way into that mold. Sadie wanted to do everything right, everything normal, everything that a girl was supposed to grow up and do. All the things she thought she could want, she put on hold because what if she missed her opportunity for something normal? And she can’t be sorry for the things she chose. She got these kids. These kids who have their whole lives ahead of them … who can forge their own paths without clinging to expectations, no matter how shiny and romantic and normal they seem.

And maybe she wishes she didn’t have to thank the Shrek soundtrack for that.

But it’s better than nothing.

(part of @nosebleedclub july challenge -- day xxiv! watch as a woman tries to catch up with a bygone era)

[sunnysideoflondon]

can i just say i love the demoni album (by joker out)?? every song literally goes so hard even the one i'd rank last if i had to is really goddamn good. i also like how the album contrasts with umazane misli (the album not the song) as its sort of about falling in love whilst demoni is like falling out of love? i haven't listened to the majority of umazane misli so im sorry if im wrong lmfao anyway. i had a thought that was like "the track order is usually on purpose right?" so that prompted me to make a summary of the contents of each song and i was like wait. this is a storyline. sorry again if these summaries are not fully correct i made them with one braincell and i dont have the energy to look up the lyrics again haha ok so katrina is like just post-breakup. "why do you keep on playing me. do you love me or not? i need you and hate you at the same time". ne bi smel is like "im sorry this was all my fault but i didnt have any other choice. i want you back but i know i betrayed you. it's my fault. im sorry". plastika is sort of like a side thing possibly its about hating how you look and having surgery to look perfect and beautiful. "it doesn't matter about anything else, im perfect now". i think this song has a deeper meaning that would fit more cleanly into the storyline of the other songs but im not big brained enough to figure out how exactly if i figure out ill update this. now, massive whiplash as we jump into demoni which is like "i need you here. when im not here my demons play with me" (idk how to better explain it besides just drawing from the og lyrics hah) important to note that this song is the title track. padam is like "i should've believed them instead of going through with us. someone help me. please. where is everyone?" vse kar vem is like "everything ends eventually, you just didn't need me anymore". ona is like "you never cared. but i care so much. so so much". tokio is like "we're not gonna see each other again. only photos will know we were together". note the more peaceful music as opposed to the deeply upset vibe of the others. kind of ironic how ngvot is like "ah, so we meet again. we've both changed albeit differently. we don't talk about it anymore though!" note the incredibly happy music of the song it's so incredibly jarring hearing them repeat "we dont talk about it anymore" with this happy ass music lmfao lastly novi val is like really abstract and could really mean a lot of things. i take it as a general message but it could really be anything. also note that it makes me want to cry so bad. one day im gonna bawl my eyes out because of that goddamn song agh OKAY UM OKAY. so basically the whole album is about a slow acceptance of the breakup but still feeling bitter about it at the end. i think. however this mystery person (probably called katrina) that the singer broke up with could've been anything tbh. you can interpret this really broadly and i think that's why i like the album so much too. it doesnt have to just be about events and feelings post-breakup but also just things in a general sense. so you can find solace in the album regardless of what your situation is. i think thats pretty neat.

or maybe im just overthinking it haha :D

[arcxnumvitae]

Who/What inspired my muses

I can’t believe I’m doing this oh it’s going to suck so much

Part 1 because it got long because I’m wordy

Veritas: In high school I was friends with two “the art kids”. I, meanwhile, was the bookworm/writer. We all thought it’d be fun to make a comic, them drawing and me writing the dialogue, so we all said we’d come up with characters from it. Mine ended up being an elf who wore long swishy skirts and fought with dual blades and one of them drew out the design for me. The comic, haha, never got far but when I got interested in doing Tumblr rp I looked at that initial oc idea and reworked it into Veritas. The only real remnants of that origin is, well, elf. And her two swords. But I mean, my interest in fleshing out my brand of elves led to what is what I actually consider a big part of my blog-- my elves. So a lot stemmed from that initial, silly and fun idea between three kids. I’m actually still best friends with one of those girls to this day!

Vendere: My second attempt at making a less morally pure muse after my real second-but-now-removed muse Tamashi ended up nice despite my wishes. I can’t say much of the thought process behind Ven other than his name being a continuation of a Latin theme I had started with Veritas and decided to keep going, which you will continue to see later on too. The only thing I can remember is choosing his name because it was the Latin verb for “to sell”, because info broker, and because I went, “Haha and I can call him V.en like in K.ingdom H.earts.” A lot of big brain ideas going on back when I was sixteen, of which I can’t even make jokes because I’ve done it again with muses fairly recently. In retrospect it makes no sense why his Italian parents would name him that but thus is my 16-year-old-idea oc burden to bear.

Jianhuren: My first muse who I added with the intent to have a bit of a storyline going! I also! Can’t remember why I got the idea for a form shifting person who  was an amnesiac. I’m fairly certain it was an idea that came straight out of my head. At the time, I hadn’t even intended to make a species of dragons, the Red Eyes from them. So it’s kind of why they may seem a bit different in feel or canon or themes or whatever from the other Red Eyes. We were winging it, baby!!

Somnio: Oh my gosh I can’t say I’ll do this and keep saying I don’t remember for these muses! I’m sorrrryyyy these were like a good six or so years ago! I think inspiration. I think maybe the feeling of days and friends gone/soon to be gone from Summertime Record inspired him regarding his feelings towards his dead friend? At the very least, I was listening to that song a lot when I added him and I was definitely thinking of him when I did it. The “Sayonara” part always really stuck out to me.

Amara: Me: What if I did a phoenix. Me: Oh, I see phoenixes in this sense have been pointed at from coming from either or both Greek and Egyptian myth let’s make both of those his background as a fun little easter egg. Me: what if I made a muse so tragic--

Qingshan: Here we see Red Eye lore starting to take more shape! Originally I had just said that Jianhuren was attacked by a monster or something, but I then had a thought of what if it were a betrayal and the monster story is just what was told? A lot of Qingshan’s vibes and the idea to do an evil or “bad” muse came from listening to Sacrifice from Rwby! Since I had just recently gotten into it. And I mean, the music rocks. Wait.....the lyrics never quite fit Qingshan at the time but now I’m realizing they fit Zhaohui well.... hm.

Ren: More desire to expand upon my elf lore that I had started with Veritas. And a desire to touch more on the trafficking issue that elves face. Then I just thought it’d be cool to give a muse the powerset of basically the Avatar-- with setbacks.

Kareena: You know me, I’m always going to look at a predominantly white-assumed category and go, “how can I make this more Brown(tm)? Elves are always so stereotypically white in the media I saw, and I’ve always had a desire to see myself represented in fantasy genres I love so much. Veritas was actually supposed to be brown, but she was my first oc and I couldn’t find a fc that fit what I imagined for her and had brown skin, I just changed it to match her fc. Now, I clearly don’t care, haha. Anyways, Kareena was me wanting to make a brown elf, and also a differently abled one too, and I settled on her being blind. I thought it’d be an interesting study since elves have heightened and stronger senses, and here was someone who was born without one. I will say, she wasn’t perfect representation at the time, since I unknowingly fell into a bad trap of “blind person uses super senses to get around anyways with no issue”, which is something I learned later that a lot of blind people don’t like to see in media about visually impaired people! The importance of doing research beforehand, kids. Especially if you’re writing of a culture, lifestyle, or experience you haven’t lived.

William/Thanatos: .......................ok.........I don’t...........remember, sorry. To explain a little, “Thanatos” actually existed on my blog as a man named William O’Connor! A man who had died but still lived on by some raw accidental deal made by his mom to some sort of death-like entity. I only remember that I was thinking on him back when I was in another state visiting by undergrad for like the first time? And Gen Con was going on and I had like just stuck my toe into C.ritical R.ole, but I don’t know if any of that actually influenced William. Anyways, I had no intention to actually ever state or clarify what “Death” was as I intended for It to just be some sort of amalgamation of different interpretations of Death. But later on I thought it’d open up for some more interesting opportunities if I put a name to the thing and had it able to interact and do a little more. Maybe a bit before Dawn came around, for reasons?

Lucia: I had mentioned in Ren’s backstory that he ran with a group of elves when he was a kid on the streets and I’d already established another, Aeon (who’s now a side muse) so I thought it’d be fun to pick out who their de facto leader was. And I thought it’d be funny if she seemed like the least intimidating-looking person ever, but absolutely was the leader of them all for good reason. I then picked up my “angsty backstory” hammer, and I then gave her a prompt solid whack with it.

Alexa: “Okay, so I touched on the elf trafficking, but what if I did what happened when one was successfully trafficked?” Et voila. 

Val: ‘Kristen, you just added Alexa, and sure you established she has a partner but you don’t need to full on add him as a muse-- oh no how did he get on my muse page.’ Alexa and Val are also meant to be foils in the way they deal with their servitude, with Alexa having given in and Val still being rebellious. Plus, I just love non-romantic soulmates. Mwah.

Imani: “I want a Black muse. An unambiguously Black muse. Make her an elf too while I’m at it.” I love sibling dynamics and I’m a sucker and wimp for older sibling dynamic stories too so that also came into play with her and her younger brother.

My gosh this is long, I’m doing a part 2 or something

[milazka]

not the greatest feeling ever | 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝.

the less i know the better masterlist

main masterlist

summary: fuck it, i’m not doing a summary, i’m so bad at it. oh! there’s smut btw.

warnings: smut, cursing, mentions of blood, underrage drinking

last thought: i’m proud of this one, took me a lot of time to write, but i think it was worth it! enjoy your reading! love, milz.

─── ° • ❀ ───

The gentle breeze twirls her golden locks in all directions. She hums the lyrics of You never can tell, having watched Pulp Fiction for the hundredth time last night. Her irises are fixed to the slightly damp roadside covered with fresh fallen leaves from this morning rainstorm. The last rays of sunlight caress her baby-like skin as they disappear into the horizon, painting the sky in a mixture of orange and rose. 

“C’mon grandpa, you’re slow as hell!” she teases Marcus, turning her head back to stick her tongue out at him. Standing on his skateboard, he sends her the finger, scraping the pavement with his over-used black vans to gain speed and eventually catch up with her. 

“That’s how the turtle won the race, dumbass,” he gently nudges her shoulder with his hand as he rides his board besides her. She gives a sharp turn of the handlebars to move her tires out of the sand and back on the pavement, giving him a death glare. 

“I almost fell in the ditch, shithead!” he simply laughs, his head falling backward. His dark colored hairs, normally slicked back, are ruffled by the warm September wind, giving him a laid back look that fits him perfectly. She adores hearing his laugh; it's one of the purest and most delightful sounds. It was only recently that she heard him laugh again, having not heard it for months after the day they lost the third musketeer of their trio. It was one of the hardest moments of their lives, but sharing this kind of experience brought them closer than ever. Charlie was there for him when he hit rock bottom, stroking his back while he cried on the shower floor, freezing water running down their damped bodies. She was also by his side the first time he went to therapy, soothingly squeezing his hand before he entered the office.

“If someone had to fall in a ditch, it would be me.”

“You know that Max and I made bet on how long it would take you to fall in a ditch?” she replies, checking his reaction at the corner of her cerulean eyes. He grins. 

“How much did you bet?” he curiously asks, one eyebrow arched. 

“Fifty bucks,” his eyes almost snap out of their sockets. He stops, stepping off his board.

“Fifty bucks?! That’s insulting, thought I was worth more than that,” he shouts as she makes a u-turn, retracing her steps, stopping in front of him.

“I’ll give you half of it if you wait ‘till June,” Charlie sarcastically says to him, elbows leaning on the handlebars of her bicycle. He caught a glimpse of light in her gaze; a twinkle of amusement he always finds in the corners of her softly crinkled eyes when she smiles truthfully.

“Deal,” he winks at her, drawing a small laugh from her slightly parted lips. He picks up Charlie's polaroid from the basket at the front of her bike, signaling for her to ride so he can immortalize the moment for her. Marcus knows she keeps those famous polaroids in an old converse box as a source of happiness; they're memories of moments she doesn't want to forget. 

He takes the little camera to his eyes, snapping a picture when Charlie turns her head to the side to look at him, smiling like there is no tomorrow. As the picture is slowly developing, he hears a squeal of tires and a squeal of surprise from the distance. 

“Fuck Charlie!” he shouts, running towards her as she sits, holding firmly her right forearm. His heart tightens at the sight of her painful face, her traits are torn by pain and he can see tears gathering at the corner of her squinted blue eyes. Marcus hates to see her in pain; he knows she's not the type to complain about anything so when he sees her azure eyes filling with water, he knows it's serious. 

“You got a few scratches,” he whispers, running his eyes over her legs and arms. “We’ll go to your house and clean you up, okay?” she nods, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. Marcus tucks his skateboard under his arm, grabbing the handlebars and seat of Charlie's bike simultaneously.

─── ° • ❀ ───

“Hold still,” his hazel eyes are focused on the mid-depth cut on her forearm. His bushy eyebrows furrowed, giving him a severe, almost cold sober look. She takes a big gulp of the rich whiskey she borrowed from her father's secret stash. 

“Oh fucking hell!” she swears between her clenched teeth when the rubbing alcohol makes contact with the exposed flesh of her forearm. “That’s not the greatest feeling ever,” she whimpers, her forehead resting on his shoulder covered by his green olive shirt. 

“I know, angel, I know,” he runs his hand through her blonde hair, gently stroking her scalp in a soothing way. She keeps her head resting against his shoulder, holding back the tears that threaten to run down her flushed cheeks.

“I’m usually the one taking care of you,” he knows it refers as much to all the times he fell off his skateboard as it does to when he hit rock bottom when their friend passed away. Charlie isn't used to being taken care of; she has always been able to look after herself without anyone's help.

Crying is for the weak.

She swallows her tears, putting her mask back on with a slight smile.

“Your new neighbor saw me fall,” she changes the subject, pausing to take another gulp directly from the whisky bottle. “Great way to make a first impression,” a light laugh escapes from her lips, but she halts when she notices his gaze turning away almost discreetly. “What’s wrong?” 

Over the years, she has learned to read him like the palm of her hand; she knows he looks away to the left when he is hiding something from her and that he scrapes the back of his neck when he is embarrassed.

“I-I had sex with her,” he blurts out, avoiding her gaze while he still applies pressure on the bandage covering the wound on her forearm. 

“Holy shit,” her eyes widened, not expecting this kind of disclosure. “Wait, what about Padma?” 

“You know she is not my girlfriend, Charlz,” he sighs, finally sustaining her non-judgmental azure irises. It' s one of the things he likes about her; she never judges him and even if she did, he wouldn't know since she hides it so well. 

“Was it good?” she does not insist about Padma, knowing perfectly well that she is the first one to know. He doesn't answer, looking thoughtful as if a million thoughts are running through his head. He steals the bottle of alcohol from her, gulping down a few ounces of the throat-burning liquid.

“What aren’t you telling me, Marcus?” 

He shuts his eyes, exhaling loudly.

“I don’t know if I was good… God, I don’t even know if she came!” her heart tightens; he looks distraught and she knows that this is a big deal to him, after all, he just lost his virginity. He breathes heavily, his jaw as tightly clenched as his fists.

“Show me.” 

“What?!” he opens one eye, eyebrows furrowed as if he was questioning if she was being serious.

“Show me what you did, I’ll tell you if it’s good,” 

“You’re drunk, Charlz…I don-” he stops as soon as her silver rings coated hands grip the hem of his olive shirt, grazing the soft skin of his lower abdomen with her fingertips. Sitting on her knees, she brings her head up to his neck, pressing her lips against the skin. The feeling of her wet lips on his burning skin sends a shiver running through his spine. 

“I’m sober enough to remember everything and give you my consent,” she whispers to his ear and he almost moans when she slightly nibbles his lobe. Her hands slips to the back of his neck, forcing him to hover over her as she lies on her back.

Both his hands are lingering on the buckle of her belt, struggling to undo it. She clutches his chin with one hand, plunging her reassuring gaze into his. He looks nervous, his hands trembling slightly when he takes off her jeans. She presses her lips to his Adam's apple, feeling him tense up at first, but relax as she sensuously slides her tongue up to his sculpted jaw.

“A-are you good with two figers?” he nervously asks, his right hand resting on the edge of her panties. 

“Yes,” he hesitantly slips his hand into her panties, parting her legs with his other hand before sliding his index and middle fingers up and down her folds.  She can see him blush when an almost quiet moan escapes her lips at the feeling of his fingers inside her core. He pumps them in and out slowly, as if he was afraid to hurt her.

“Try to curl them in a ‘come here’ movement,” she demonstrates with her own fingers. He nods and mimics her actions, making her whimper under him. 

“That feels good,” she encourages him. “What did you do next?” she softly asks, rubbing her thumb against his cheek to sooth him. 

“Hum, well, we-um, you know, did it,” he says, blushing like a little child who just got his first kiss with the popular girl. 

“You didn’t go down on her?” she asks, looking quite shocked. He seemed clueless. “I mean, you didn’t use your mouth?” 

“Uh no, should I have?” 

“You boys really know nothing about female pleasure,” she sights. “Try watching lesbian porn next time, you will learn A LOT more,” He almost chokes, not expecting to hear this come out of his best friend's lips while his fingers are still inside her. They've always been comfortable with each other, but not to the point of talking about the kind of porn they listen to. The idea of her best friend watching porn and getting herself off almost made him cum in his pants.

“You do know what a cunniligus is, right?” 

“God, Charlz, I’m not five years old! Yes, I know what it is!” he exclaims, his ego lightly bruised by her question. 

“Well, show me then, playboy,” she challenges him, a cocky smile slipping on her lips. the alcohol going slightly to her head.

He pulls her to the edge of the mattress, kneeling at the foot of the bed between her legs. His lips kiss the skin on the inside of her thighs, sucking it until he sees a dark red mark appear. He gets rid of her underwear in the blink of an eye  before placing her legs over his shoulders. He darts his tongue out of his mouth, licking a long strip between her folds without giving her the chance to acknowledge what was going on. He stops once his tongue rests on the bundle of nerves, licking around it in a circular motion.

“Fuck,” she moans. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“You really think I've never watched lesbian porn?” he teases her, biting the inside of her thigh, making her body jolt. He dives back his head to her core, sucking her clit into his mouth.

At leats he know where the clit is.

"Oh my god Marcus," she moans, squirming against his grip. He places his arm over her lower abdomen, pinning her body against the mattress. She can feel his two fingers sliding back into her core, the sudden feeling causing her hips to buck up against his face.  

“Are you gonna be a good girl and cum for me, hun?” he praises her, fingers curling inside her just like she taught him. She could barely feel herself, letting out a series of high-pitched moans as Marcus tongue was working on her bundle of nerves. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” she whimpers, her head pressed down against the matress. Her fingers tangle in his dark hair, tucking at the roots as she let out a cry, the euphoric feeling taking over her body for a moment. Marcus looks up to see her eyes shut tightly, her legs shaking on his shoulders. He can feel her core pulsating around his fingers as she comes down from her high.

He took a mental picture of her, engraving this moment in his memory forever.

─── ° • ❀ ───

taglist; @cognacdelights @ellegotohell @janedartist

[dulceateez]

𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡!𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳

𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘫𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘨 

it wasn’t anything extraordinary, nothing out of the ordinary from him. he’s a gentleman. always has been and always will be. he treats everyone with the same amount of respect and love, but this time was different. after a surprise practice fire drill, you rush along with your classmates into the bitter fall wind, hugging your arms close to your chest. your legs shivering and lips trembling. you mentally scold yourself for wearing such a thin outfit. but here comes your hero; with a big hoodie in his hand. you slip into the clothing and wallow in his cozy, floral, manly scent. you look up at him to thank him but his arm wraps around your shoulders and brought you closer to his body. your cheeks turned crimson and you melt into his warmth, forgetting about the harsh cold; “y/n-ah, how can you wear such an outfit when it’s so cold outside! you need to dress warmer now, keep my hoodie for when you walk home today.” 

𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘸𝘢 

you didn’t know him prior to this interaction; heard of him. yes, of course you’ve heard of him. everyone has a crush on this boy and you understand the appeal. still, you’ve never felt the butterflies in your stomach when he flashes a smile in the direction of you and your friends. at least not until that subtle touch you felt on the small of your back as he passed by. who knew the crowded hallway could feel so empty after experiencing the seonghwa effect. what made your heart race was when he turned to flash you a smirk so devilish that it sent you straight to heaven. did you just fall for the more unattainable guy in this school? yes. do you regret it? no. you felt your mind warp into one like his followers.’ perhaps you dressed yourself up more and paid extra attention to your actions after the encounter; something you’ll never admit to yourself or anyone else. you want to feel his effect once more and that’s exactly why you fell for him. 

𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 

he’s the sweet boy next door, an eager puppy that always awaits your arrival, stalking your movements with child-like admiration. he finds you absolutely beautiful, since the day he moved in, but you’re taking longer to come around. but tonight changes the way you view him. your day was stressful, tear inducing even, and you just want to lay in bed and snuggle your favorite stuffed animal. the puppy analyzes your movements from afar and springs into action when you stomp right into your room as opposed to going into the kitchen for a snack like always. you lay in a puddle of your own self-pity when you hear thuds against your windowpane, you pull back the curtains and look down to see the homey boy smiling up at you with a bag of your favorite chips in hand. he gives it a shake, as if he’s coaxing you, you open the window up for him to climb into and he wastes no time in engulfing you in a bear hug. you replace the golden retriever plushy with him. as the two of you lay, not saying a single word, your heart starts to beat fast against his stomach; “y/n? are you nervous? do i make you nervous! you make me so nervous but i love it.” 

𝘺𝘦𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘨 

how can someone not fall for such a sweet little human? his hair is fluffy like cotton candy, cheeks puffy like mochi, eyes shinning brighter than the hard chocolate coating on candies. while his voice is as deep as the ocean it seems, his kind words contrast his tone. you often dreamt about the feelings of his lips; are they soft like clouds or do they send you to them? there was never one moment that solidified your attraction to him. from the first time you saw him, you’ve only had eyes for him. however, when you saw him giggling softly with his group of loud friends. the stark contrast between their bold and loud behavior and his gentle nature makes your heart go crazy. you suddenly became jealous--wanting to be the reason behind his laughter and his smiles, wanting to be the reason why he’s so bright and cheery. perhaps one day you will be. 

𝘴𝘢𝘯 

dimples. his cute little dimples. a dimpled boy like him never goes unnoticed. that’s how you noticed him, his cute smile and even cuter dimples. he sat across from you in the library once, taking notes from his textbook and writing them down on notebook paper. you admired him from afar. he was doing the same thing, raking his eyes over your body and face. finally, you built up the courage to introduce yourself to him and your fixation on his grew into a crush just by the way his eyes looked up at you: charming and hopeful. he removed his backpack from the seat next to him and invited you to sit down with him, a welcoming smile the whole time. while the two you studied independently, he kept sliding silly drawings under your fingertips. that’s when you knew for certain that you fell for the dimpled boy. and you fell for him hard after he asked you, “wanna go out and get a coffee or something after?” 

𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪 

who knew being burnt by your newly bought cup of coffee could end so sweetly? you’ve long forgotten about the burning sensation when you locked eyes with the empathetic set of eyes that stared back at you. annoyed? yes. but  how can someone stay mad at an innocent face like his? you’ve seen him around the campus, always thought he was attractive, but a handsome face doesn’t leave and impression on you. however, him stripping out of his hoodie to give to you, leaving him in a very thin white t-shirt, made your heart swoon. he panicked upon seeing your skin turn into red. not knowing what else to do, he gently took your wrist and guided you into the nurses office where he stood by you every step of the way. even offered to take you to the hospital; but you two settled on him buying you a new cup of coffee...of course he joins you as well. 

𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 

the cockiness he has drives you crazy in the worst way possible. you hate his smirks and hate his abrupt laughter. what you don’t hate is how friendly and social he is--you’re envious of those traits. he treats everyone like he’s their buddy and makes sure everyone is included somehow. you’re more on the shy side and an easy target for bullies to pick on, that’s why you didn’t believe him when he spoke so kindly to you. but the moment that made you realize that your heart has fallen for him? when he scared off the bullies. you’ve never seen this side of him; snarling teeth, fist balled, veins on his neck prominent with anger. after seeing you on the brink of tears after having insults thrown your way, he can’t just sit around and enable this behavior by not saying anything. the friendly, but somewhat annoying, facade disappears. he shakes the guy by his collar, venom being spit on his face. once he scared the man out of his wits, he turns to you and approaches you softly, gently grabbing your hands; “has he been bothering you lately? i’ll make sure he never even looks in your direction.” 

𝘫𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘰

such a sultry voice with high notes that reach the gods surrounding the earth, how can someone just move on from this type of singing? it was an immediate attraction to the anonymous man behind the honey voice. you began to wonder what he may look like--setting your expectations higher than the notes he is able to sing. you never built up the courage to peek into the music room and steal a glance and you always chickened out on staying after to see who leaves the room. it wasn’t until the day of the school’s choir when you found out who the voice belonged to. the quiet kid steps up to the mic and begins singing; your ears perked up instantly. the voice so familiar and you knew from exactly where. he stared at you as he sang the sweet lyrics, never breaking eye contact despite his solo ending. you felt alone in the audience, like everyone has disappeared and now it’s just him serenading you, warmth is all you felt. 

◌ 𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ◌ @blaqpinksthetic​ @tinkerbellwoo​

[atozfic]

pantone #f08080

pairing. choi san x fem!reader | warnings. college au, barista!san, fluff, blushing red couple (takes place before)!! | word count. 1.1k | synopsis. choi san has never been the best at keeping still. | hyde’s input: this is 100% inspired by that video of a girl getting caught dancing to itzy by her manager. if you catch the wanted reference in the fic, i’ll give you a big consensual kiss on the mouth.

choi san loves his job.

it’s something that’s come as a surprise to him, as the very friend who’d landed him the job- one jung wooyoung, a lifelong friend who’s messes san has spent the better part of his life cleaning up- had sold it to him as a hateful place, a place that would birth nothing but frustration in san. perhaps jung wooyoung just isn’t cut out for a job in hospitality, for san finds enjoyment in the small quirks his friend considers a nuisance.

he likes the way the coffee machine is aged, the rubber around the portafilters wearing away and causing erratic spurts of the caffeine liquid to fly all over the place. he likes the regulars, people who’s orders he has memorised and prepared before they even make it to the counter. he likes exploring new flavours and creating his own secret menu of drinks. he likes the way the local college girls blush when he serves them, giggling between their group of friends every time he glances over at them.

the thing he likes best, however, is when the sun goes down, the stars come out and it’s finally time to switch the coffee machine off. it’s only then that he can draw the blinds, remove his mask and turn the radio up.

take this evening, for example, where not another living soul stands within the building but him, wooyoung long ago finishing his shift with some excuse of studying for his anatomy test in the morning- and san knows exactly what kind of hands-on, practice over theory kind of learner wooyoung is.

the surfaces have all been wiped down and rid of any remnants from the day. the coffee machine has been cleaned, the stock refilled and the dishes all neatly put away. the only thing remaining to do before he can go home for the evening is mopping.

the task is proving to be more difficult than expected, for he keeps pausing between swipes at the tiles below to hum along to a certain tune, or to tap his feet in time with the pop track blasting over the speakers.

“i feel like i was born to love ya.” he whispers the lyrics beneath his breath, the tired part of his brain trying to will him to just keep going, to finish the task so he can head home finally.

the song builds in tension, synching with the desire in san to let loose, to drop the handle that connects him to the mop and allow himself the liberty to shake the sudden burst of energy out of himself. he’s holding back, but not strongly enough. as the second chorus slowly comes to an end, the young barista lets go of his inhibitions- and the mop in his hand- and finally moves in time with the song.

“i’m getting loco, loco.” he’s out of tune and out of breath, a testament that he needs to build up his stamina, but none of that matters right now, not when he’s hitting every move like he’s rehearsed it a million times- as opposed to the reality of having seen the girl group perform it once or twice on youtube. not as he spins his head in a way that makes him dizzy. not as he juts his hips out, shaking them in time with the music. not when, after what’s felt like the longest day ever, it’s finally just the empty cafe, the loud music and him.

it’s as he turns, the song almost coming to an end and, thus, his performance too, that his eyes focus in on something that definitely isn’t supposed to be here.

you, with your eyes full of amusement and a tote bag hooked around your arm.

san instantly feels the blood rushing to his cheek, painting his skin in the lightest shade of coral. unbeknownst to him, you’re too busy thinking about how the blush in his skin brings out his moles more and makes him seem more boyish to notice the way he’s freaking out in embarrassment.

it takes a couple seconds of staring but you finally begin to clap, smiling under the cotton mask as you give him a once over.

has he always looked so good in a stained apron?

“y/n, hey!” choi san has never been the best at making decisions, but perhaps deflecting and avoiding the scene you’d just walked in on is the only option for him. “what brings you here? we’re uh... actually closed.”

“relax, barista boy, i’m not going to demand you make me a skinny soy latte.” your laughter sounds like music to his ears, a song he turns the radio down to hear better. “i was visiting the campus one that last time, you know, trying to find my bearings for when the semester starts.”

he’s forgotten all about the fact you’re starting college soon, and now, reminded of it, he can’t help but wonder if you’ll be one of the girls that giggle over him.

he shouldn’t want you to, not with how close he is to your older brother, but he wants it.

more than he wants to erase the image of him dancing out of your head.

“look at you, all grown up. i still remember the days you were peeing yourself in first grade.” he remembers a lot about you, actually. like the way you’d gotten your period in gym class and ran to him crying, asking to tie his jacket around your waist to hide the stain. or the way you’d asked him to teach you to dance just in time for your junior prom, only to turn around and let some dim-witted jock take you, who not only picked you up forty minutes late but sent you home crying and with his puke staining the front of your dress. “woo’s not here, by the way.”

“i know.” you step closer and san almost wants to reach out and see if your red sweater is as soft as it looks. “but i missed the last train home, and your shitty driving is still better than the option of walking home.”

“least i have a license.”

and as he drives you home, generic pop songs blasting over the radio and the windows down, your hair blowing all over the place as you dramatically sing along to every tale of heartbreak and party anthems, san realises one fatal mistake he’s made.

he no longer sees you as jung wooyoung’s irritating little sister.

he sees you in a whole new light, layers upon layers of shades of red hot emotions coursing through his veins as he grips the steering wheel a little tighter, deciding he’s going to take wooyoung up on the offer of crashing your birthday party after all.