#maybe the mainstream press

[certainlyathrill]

it’s them! they’re the dreadful little polycule!

[bmpmp3]

every day my youtube recommendations are inundated with 40 minute videos titled "the rise and fall of ____" where ____ is something that is very much still alive and thriving 😔

[daeluin]

"wa can change the laws for your security/we guarantee big rentability/we're very happy you come to invest/we need your money so we can survive"

im sorry im still here

do gringos know uruguay currently doesn't have drinkable water??? or are y'all still too busy getting into online fights over silly mainstream bands?

[coucouatoi]

take it as a compliment | h.s.

Pairing: Harry Styles X Reader

Warnings: smoking, swearing, light angst, making out

A/N: Got a request for Outgoing Harry/Shy reader and then this happened. I'm actually so in love with this so I hope y'all enjoy :)

Summary: Your band is out of a main singer after a petty feud. The hunt for someone new is pure torture, not a single audition has peaked your interests. None until he walked in.

"Next!!" your band's drummer, Maeve, exclaims with an exasperated tone. The person who was auditioning scurries off the small stage, too embarrassed to say goodbye. They were the 10th person to audition today. Ten people have gone on stage and tried to show off their singing skills but no one has been even remotely close to good. You're starting to suspect that all of these people are pranking you. There's no way that this many people are tone-deaf... Right?

You look back up when you see someone new walking on stage. Your eyes widen in surprise when you see who's next to audition. Harry Styles, the myth, the legend. He's a star member of the swimming team, captain of the rugby team, honorary member of the debate team and the most sought-after guy at your university. He is probably the last person you expected to show up for your band's audition... You don't even know if he can sing.

"This is going to be hilariously, so happy we are filming" Riu, your band's bassist, chuckles under his breath. You shrug with a small smirk, guess he wants to join today's humiliating compilation of failed auditions.

"Hello everyone, I'm Harry Styles auditioning for lead singer? I guess" he laughs at himself, now this is something you've never seen... a nervous Harry? Could this be an act??

"Don't sound too excited now" Maeve rolls her eyes, "What are you going to sing?" she clicks her pen ready to write the title down.

"October by Broken Bells" he speaks more confidently into the mic now. Your eyebrows raise, shocked. You would have expected something a little more mainstream maybe something currently in the top 10 chart or even an old classic. Riu presses the record button on his camera and rearranges the tripod to better capture Harry.

"Whenever you're ready," You say softly as you hope for the best, your behind is really starting to hurt after sitting for so long hopefully you can leave the auditorium soon.

The man onstage takes a deep breath before pressing play on the acoustic track on his phone.

Soft guitar strings start playing and only a few seconds in Harry starts harmonising with the instrument before the lyrics come in. And when they do... Your jaw hits the floor. The voice that comes out of his mouth would have been impossible to imagine. It's not a very vocally powerful song but requires a certain knowledge of music to get it right. He sounds beautiful and enchanting.

Riu, who's sitting next to you, shakes your arm making you turn your head to him. He mouths "What the fuck?" and you only nod as an answer completely bewildered.

He doesn't move around the stage or anything, just stands in the same spot and sings. Sings better than anyone you've heard today. Better than your past lead singer you're sure. His eyes are shut in what you have to assume is concentration but he could just be too nervous to look at you and your bandmates. His dark hair is pushed back out of his face letting you see his features, his furrowed brows and the sheen of sweat on the tip of his nose.

The song ends and he finally opens his eyes, gagging your reactions. You make sure that you've closed your mouth not wanting one of the first times he really looks at you for your mouth to be wide open...

"Do you write your own songs?" Maeve breaks the silence.

"I have some written yes" he answers quickly, a small jitter going through his body. Excited that he wasn't immediately shooed off stage.

"Is this a serious audition or are you just joking around?" Riu then asks having had enough of this long and boring day.

"Serious, I love singing" he nods quickly, "And I think I'm pretty good at it" Ah! There's the cocky attitude you've gotten used to from him.

Maeve grabs your arms from across the table tugging you towards her, Riu in the middle simply lowers his head closer to hear what's about to be said.

"What do you think?" She asks looking deeply into your eyes. You nod before answering already conveying your approval.

"He's really good guys, winning the UK universities competition good" You definitely see him adding a lot to your group. He's got the charms, the voice and the confidence to get you all the way to the finals.

"We're really accepting Harry Styles into our band?" Riu sounds annoyed but you know that he approves of this choice too...

Here goes nothing.

-

It's officially been two weeks since Harry has become your lead singer and he has not been on time for any of your practices. He's always got some elaborate excuse explaining his tardiness. More often than not he demands multiple breaks to go out for a smoke "Helps the vocals ya know?" he laughs before leaving the room. Maeve is one hair off of kicking him straight out but you've unfortunately entered his name down for the UK competition... and Harry knows this. Both of your other members have tried to reason with him, without success so they've told you that it's your turn to try, and try you will.

There's one hour left and Harry is out on another smoking break you choose this time to go out and attempt to talk to him. You haven't had many one-on-one conversations with him since him joining you. You're still intimidated by his status, his popularity, his reputation, his looks...

After leaving your guitar behind, you head out to find him leaning against the brick wall of your school, his head is tipped up and cigarette hanging off his bottom lip. You take a deep breath before walking up to him, mentally preparing yourself for this conversation.

"Is it your turn to tell me about the importance of punctuality, darling?" his lips form into a smirk as he hears your thick heels crunch the gravel as you move towards him.

"I guess so, the other two didn't work" you shrug leaning on the wall next to him. "Why did you audition if you don't care?" you ask him in a hushed tone, still surprised you have to have a conversation like this with him.

You don't see it but Harry's body tenses. Guilt flows through his veins and he looks at you but you're looking at the ground.

"I do care" is what he answers.

"I'm sorry but I don't believe you" You shake your head and finally meet his gaze, "Are you late for any other extracurricular activity you're part of?" your tone is unbothered but Harry feels it sting him, as if you insulted him... maybe you did. He thinks about it and... well he's not. He prides himself on being a stellar member of everything he's a part of.

"Why don't you treat us like equals? We are all part of the same team here" you add with a tilt of your head actually curious for an answer.

"I... Look, our other two members treat me like I'm lower because of how I act and who I'm friends with" he plucks the cigarette out of his mouth and stomps it under his shoe. He runs his hands through his hair and sighs, "I've gathered that you're the reserved quiet type but not one of you has tried to get to know me, why should I make an effort when none of you want me here?" with how rapidly the words are leaving his mouth you know he's been holding all of this in. You're stunned to silence.

"I don't feel welcomed so I'm not making an effort anymore" he walks away from you and from the building, "I tried to mend the gap by inviting all three of you over to my mates party last week and none of you showed... my message was left on read in the group chat" he looks at you and you don't see any malice or anger just... sadness? Disappointed? You're not sure.

His confession pains your fragile heart. He was trying, he had tried and your bandmates and yourself had only damaged the already non-existent relationship.

"I've never been to a party, I'm not great in crowds" you try explaining, "I barely even make it through our gigs, I'm always the first to go home" Harry nods in understanding, grabbing another cigarette from the packet he has in his pocket and lights it.

"Still could have said something... I know Maeve and Riu hate me so I guess there's not much I can do about that" he shrugs as he takes a drag. He's trying to brush off the emotions he just let himself have in front of you.

"I should have, I'm sorry" you mumble your apology still shocked that you've managed to get this far.

It's quiet for a few minutes. Harry focused on finishing his cigarette, seemingly needing to ease the tension he felt.

"I'll be better about my tardiness," he says after a while. You nod, smiling slightly when he looks over at you.

"Let me know when your next party is, I'll try and go" you offer, a peace offering between you and him. He laughs and shakes his head.

"Sure, darling" he stomps his second cigarette out and walks back over to you "Won't invite those two losers tho" he smirks at you before walking back into the building. You roll your eyes with a laugh and follow him back inside.

-

Harry S

10 Pleasing Road, Tomorrow 9 pm

See you there?

You

What should I wear? Should I bring anything? How many people are going?

Harry S

Whatever you're comfortable in, nope just yourself ;) And about 20 people nothing crazy

You

Okay, see ya

-

Oh god. You have no idea what to wear and you can't possibly ask Maeve or Riu for advice they'd need to know what you're dressing up for. You've been procrastinating your outfit choice all day. Your makeup is done dark and mysterious just how you like, your hair is up and out of your neck predicting that it'll be too warm wherever you're going but you're only wearing underwear... a matching set sure but not an appropriate outfit for a public outing.

You look at the time on your phone and your breath hitches, you're already past your maximum departure time... you're going to be late. This is not good. You contemplate texting Harry and telling him you can't make it but you want to have a better relationship with him you want to make an effort.

You find a long dark red floral dress that you haven't worn in forever and decide that tonight it will stop gathering dust. There is a slight chill in the outside air so you grab the crochet bolero Riu made you for your birthday. It's black with a ladybug charm in the center of it, she lands perfectly in your cleavage. You rush out of your room and out of your shared flat with Maeve before she starts asking questions. You slipped on your go-to heeled boots before running out of the building.

The address Harry sent you is, surprisingly, only a 15-minute walk away from where you live. Keeping a rapid pace is all you're focused on so you can make it with as little delay as you can. Being late gets your anxious gears running like crazy, your internal and external clock always chanting "Early is on time, on time is late and late is unacceptable!". You can thank your mother for that one.

You make it to the one-story townhouse at 9:28, you hear music from the outside and a few cars parked in the driveway and on the sides of the roads.

You breathe in and out deeply as you make your way to the door, calming your heartbeat and yourself. This is your first uni party, the first party that isn't family or Maeve/Riu related. Your first big girl party. It's nerve-wracking but also a little exciting.

As you're about to knock you realize the door is already ajar, you don't overthink it and head inside.

Turns out Harry had been pretty spot on with the number of people at this gathering. Doing a quick scan of the living room, after going through the small entrance, most people are sitting down, drinking and smoking different things. Only a few people look your way but they go back to their original conversations quickly, unbothered by another presence. You spot a table filled with different liquor bottles and mixers and make a beeline for it. Before you start mixing a drink for yourself someone calls out your name.

"You made it!" you turn your head and spot Harry making his way towards you. He's all smiles and bright eyes, he's got a beer in his hand and a cigarette in the other.

"I did, sorry I'm late" you grimace thinking about it again.

"Pff, no one's on time at a party" he waves it off before taking a drag, he blows it out away from your face and looks down at the empty cup in your hand.

"Why isn't there a drink in your hand, darling?" he asks you in mock shock. You shrug and gesture to the table, "I don't know what to make"

He nods and asks for your go-to spirit. Once you tell him he starts making a mix, only using the one liquor, finishing it off with a scoop of ice and a straw.

"Voila!" he winks as he hands you the now full cup. You take a sip and hum appreciatively.

"This is really good thank you" you smile in gratitude. Any worries that have been clawing at you since the moment you accepted to come are slowly disappearing. Harry seems genuinely pleased that you've shown up and that makes the overwhelming feeling large crowds give you dissipate. You should be able to stay like this for a while now.

"You look really nice, darling, I love your style" he lifts himself onto a stool, carefully not to spill his drink or drop his cigarette.

You can feel heat crawl up your neck and onto your face, not used to getting compliments. It's not that you haven't dated or hooked up with people but it's not something that just happens. Flirting requires a lot of energy from you, you're quick to feel embarrassed and shut yourself out just to process it all. Not that you think Harry is flirting or trying to get with you, he's just a socialite who's not shy to say what he's thinking.

"Just threw on whatever" you shrug avoiding his gaze.

"I'm sure that's an understatement but nonetheless you look gorgeous" he winks as he takes one last long drag before putting out the cigarette in the ashtray next to him and then throwing it into a trash can.

He's quite captivating to watch; his eyes are dark, an attractive smirk is always present, and wavy hair moves around with him and his tattoos. God his tattoos! You knew he had loads just by having seen his arms but now his button-down is pretty much unbuttoned at this point. You see many more that you never knew existed and it's only making him more handsome. The butterfly on his sternum, the two swallows beneath his collarbones, the fern leaves peeking out of his jeans; a very dangerous and tempting combination. You'll let your imagination run wild later...

"Mh, so um what does one usually do at a party?" Ah yes, a very natural change in conversation! You go Y/N, you mentally mock yourself with a subtle shake of your head. Harry doesn't seem to mind the switch or notice your mental scolding because he answers truthfully.

"Depends what you're up to doing honestly, I know someone has weed somewhere so you can join the stoners..." you shake your head, not your vibe. "You can dance in the basement that's where the music is playing and people are grinding" You shrug at that option not completely opposed to it. "Or you could go in the yard and join one of the many drinking games happening" That is a good option for later in the evening.

"Take me dancing?" your voice is a little high pitched, not completely confident in yourself but you want to make the most of this. It's not every day you'll be doing this kind of thing.

Harry doesn't answer verbally but he does grab your hand and guides you. His grip isn't tight you could easily free yourself if you wanted to but you want to make it to the dance floor... and holding Harry's hand is quite pleasant.

As he had previously said, the dancing is happening in the basement. This is where you realize Harry is probably the worst counter you've ever met because in this room alone there are at least 30 more people. The space is huge and open; no walls just another makeshift bar, large speakers, some funky lighting and some overused-looking sofas.

Feeling brave you pull Harry towards the other people dancing, and he follows with no hesitation. The beat of the pop song is good and gets your hips moving quickly, you'll never admit it but cheesy pop music is your guilty pleasure. Harry quickly matches your moves, smiling as you dance together he almost looks surprised that you're doing this with him. When you realize you haven't let go of his hand you quickly spin away in a somewhat casual attempt to free yourself, not that the handholding was bad. You just don't want to make him uncomfortable or maybe get anyone he's into at this party to think he's unavailable. The thought of him leaving you right now does make your skin crawl but you focus on dancing back towards him to finish your super duper casual and unnoticed freeing.

"You're a natural, who knows under all that eyeliner and glitter you liked bubblegum pop" Harry jokes as you get close to him again. You laugh and shake your head.

"It's all a distraction, Styles, I'm good at distractions" You wave your hands in front of his face with a spooky witch tone of voice.

"I don't doubt that..." he grabs your hand again and pulls you close to him, careful not to spill either of your drinks.

You feel the heat of his palm travel all the way up your arm and down the other. He's now deliberately taken your hand twice. Twice in the same hour. Hell in the same 5 minutes! God, he's so intoxicating. Your friends would not approve of the thoughts you're having. Riu would scream bloody murder and Maeve... Maeve would never look at you in the eyes again.

You chug the remainder of your drink and toss your empty cup onto a nearby table, you mentally apologize to the person who will pick that up later. Harry follows your lead and places his now free hand on your waist pulling you even closer to him.

"What do you think of the party so far?" he leans into your space even more, softly asking his question right next to your ear. You hum first as you angle yourself towards his own ear to answer.

"Not as crazy as I've seen them in movies or TV shows... but I think I watch too much American television" You laugh at yourself but you quickly still when you feel Harry's lips touch your ear.

"What? You're missing some cheesy games and making out with strangers" he teases you, tightening his hand grip on your waist.

"Something like that yeah, ha" Your breath is quick and uncertain. Overthinking how you're even supposed to breathe normally because you know Harry hears and feels your every breath.

"Mh, let me satisfy your wishes then" he pulls back and winks. "Hey!", he exclaims, "Anyone wanna play truth or dare?" at his question many people cheer affirmatively and he drags you towards one of the couches where everyone else follows suit.

The couch you're now sitting on has obviously been occupied by many other butts and now your own but you try to get that thought out of your head.

"You go first Haz, you initiated" you hear someone with a thick accent say.

"Fine, fine... who wants to ask me?"Harry playfully rolls his eyes as he leans back, his arms splayed across the top of the couch.

"Truth or dare?" someone new calls out.

"Truth let's keep it tame for now" he answers the crowd. You hear some people whisper to each other, debating what question they should ask now that they have free will.

"Did you actually fuck Olivia Flores while she was dating your mate Niall?" a high-pitched voice calls out. Harry rolls his eyes and breathes out deeply.

This rumour had spread all over the school through all clicks and social groups. Olivia was the most beloved student you could think of. She loves speaking with anyone and everyone, she volunteers every other day, and she's never in a bad mood or at least never lets anyone see if she is. The only time that you've ever seen her smile gone was when the rumours started. When everyone was whispering about her cheating on her boyfriend with his best friend. Niall is basically the embodiment of a golden retriever and people took the news of him being cheated on very badly. She denied it endlessly and tried to get people back on her side because her friends ended up turning on her. Harry and Niall both denied the rumours but there was no stopping everyone else from saying what they wanted. Especially after their break up and her decision to switch schools...

"I've said it a million times before, no. Never. I never have and never will because I know how much they still care for each other" he clicks his tongue at the end, annoyed at the question.

Some questions still cross your mind but you decide that his answer is enough. You choose to believe all three of them in this, that their denial is truthful and that Niall and Olivia breaking up after had nothing to do with the rumours.

"Y/N, in honour of your request, truth of dare?" Harry brings your thoughts back to the present, where everyone is now looking at you... analyzing. These people don't know you so you let them watch you even if it makes your skin crawl.

"Dare" might as well go past your boundaries even more. You're getting to know a whole new you tonight, it's exciting.

"Kiss me" he murmurs close to your ear, having leaned into your space. You chuckle pushing him away playfully.

"Come on! Be serious this is my first party game!" you poke his chest with your nail and squint your eyes. He can't just tease you like that! Pfff.

"Serious? You don't think I'm serious" he tilts his head to the side. His expression is unreadable and it makes you question whether he's being a goof right now or if he really wants to kiss you. Why would he want to kiss you out of anyone here?

You roll your eyes and push his face away from you. He looks shocked for a moment before letting a breath out, it almost sounds disappointed... can air sound a certain way? You're definitely overthinking this.

"A real dare please!" you squint your eyes at him in a playful manner. He shakes his head at you with a crooked smile, he's bewildered but you don't know that. You don't know how much he yearns for you right now. How much you attract him or how much it means to him that you're trying. Really trying to know him and make him your friend.

"Fine, I'll settle for the cheek" he winks and points to his right cheek which is inches away from your face.

You assess his expression, he's smirking again obviously happy that his teasing is affecting you. Ever so slightly furrowing his brows in worry that you'll reject that too. So. In honour of your first-ever big girl party, you do it. You kiss his cheek and you play dirty a little bit. Pressing your lips right to the corner of his lips. Right where they merge into the skin of his face.

"There! Now who's next?" you exclaim excitedly turning back to the group of people. A girl you don't know raises her hand and you dare her to do a shot of her least favourite alcohol. She walks off in search of it and your head is turned back towards Harry by a gentle hold on your chin.

"You're such a tease, gorgeous" his voice is soft but rugged almost sounding bothered by something... by someone?

"How so?" your lips form a small smile as you take a sip of your beer, you're conveniently sat next to a cooler full of them.

"You're irresistible" he replies with dark eyes, the hand on your chin moves to your cheek. The tips of his fingers tangling in your hair almost scratching at your scalp.

You don't completely understand how he's saying that about you when he looks the way he does. His hair is falling gorgeously onto his face as he looks at you, his eyes are dark and inviting, lips parted and numerous tattoos still on display.

"What are you going to do about it?" Wow! You're feeling brave tonight good on you! It might be the drinks you've been working at starting to make the anxiety you previously had melt away. Making the nerves calm and the fear of embarrassing yourself much less important.

"What do you want me to do about it?" his lips brush your own as he whispers his answer. You hadn't realized how close you'd gotten to each other; your chest is pressed to his, thighs seemingly glued together at the side, hands holding onto whatever part that isn't yet connected...

Before you can answer and quite possibly take him up on his first dare, your phone rings in your lap. You jump in surprise but Harry's strong yet gentle hold on you doesn't waver, he keeps you close to him. You glance down at the screen and see that Riu is calling you, the terrible selfie he took for his contact picture staring back at you. He has the habit of "stalking" you and Maeve on the Snapchat map, he says it's to make sure you're all in your usual spots. And... well... right now you're definitely not in one of your usual spots.

"Are you going to answer?" Harry asks with a slightly annoyed tone. You look at him again breaking eye contact with Riu's picture. You shake your head and take a deep breath, encouraging yourself. Harry's eyebrow raises in confusion but before anything else can be said you surge forward. You connect your lips to his desperately, forgetting everything else around you.

Harry's hand, the one that was on your cheek, reaches to the back of your head and pulls you closer. Deepening the kiss more than you thought possible. His other hand wraps around your waist and pushes you forward making your chest completely stuck to his. Your hands busy themselves as well, your right one tangles into his curls and your left grabs onto his forearm almost in an attempt to brace yourself. His tongue meets yours making you moan in pleasure. Who knew making out with someone could feel so good?

Harry doesn't stop, not for one second, as if he'd been wishing to do this for a while. He has but you obviously don't know that. He's been interested since his audition, he had seen your band before but never interacted. He always thought you were gorgeous but never had a chance to see if there could be any chemistry between you both. And now? Lord.

Someone around you hollers and it snaps you out of the bubble that surrounds both of you. You jerk away from Harry putting as much distance between you as you're able to on the otherwise cramped sofa.

"You two better go off to somewhere more private before we all need to bleach our eyeballs" The person sitting next to Harry laughs as he nudges him on the arm, shaking both of your bodies against each other. Harry shakes his head and playfully punches the person but you stare at him shocked. Shocked that you were just fully making out with him, shocked that he wanted to make out with you... Shocked that you're kind of wishing it kept going.

When Harry's head turns back towards you, you can't help but meet his gaze. Your own eyes are wide and just now getting back to focus, they had gone hazy with want but you won't admit that to yourself just yet.

"Let me walk you home? I know you have an exam first thing in the morning tomorrow" He asks sincerely, wanting to make sure you don't miss any essential studying you might want to do.

"Um, sure, a party on Wednesday is weird..." You shake your head in thought now just realising that you had completely forgotten about the test.

"Makes hump day less humpy I guess" he shrugs with a teasing smile before standing and helping you up off the sofa.

The walk back to your flat is entertaining. You get to know your new bandmate even more, truly getting to know him as a person. You share about yourself as well not wanting the conversation to seem one-sided. Turns out drinking a little alcohol makes you chatty.

Somehow, your left hand has interlocked with Harry's right one. How and when this happened you're not sure all you know is that you've had a painfully obvious blush on your face and neck ever since. You don't attempt to break the hold because... well... you really don't want to.

"Well, this is me" You turn to face Harry as you speak. You gesture to your complex vaguely still wanting to talk with him.

"Mh, quaint," he says without even looking at the building.

"Guess this is goodnight then" Your lips form into a small pout, disappointed that you have no real excuse to stay around Harry anymore.

"Guess so... I'll see you at practice tomorrow?" his hand tugs you towards him gently, leaving only inches between you. You bite your lip and nod as an answer all words having vanished from your mind. He smirks and bends down to press his lips on yours one more time. This kiss is much different than the one you previously shared, this one is only a short peck barely even qualifies as a kiss. You instinctively follow when he parts from you desperate for a real kiss.

"What's wrong pretty?" he's teasing you and you know it.

"Kiss me properly... leave me regretting coming back home to study instead of staying at yours" There's a sentence you never imagined yourself saying. You're feeling like a completely new you. Maybe it's the liquor in your system but Harry stops the nerves and the overthinking that's always going on in your head. He feels like a breath of fresh air and that is so fucking hot.

Harry doesn't hesitate to reconnect your lips again for a real kiss. He bites and drags your bottom lip towards him you moan at the feeling, quickly wrapping your arms around him to deepen the contact. Your tongue meets his between your mouths, it's not a battle, feels like they've been waiting to reconnect since they parted ways at the party.

"You're so hot Y/N" Harry practically moans out before slamming his lips back against yours.

Kissing someone has truly never felt this good.

-

The exam you only spent about 45 minutes studying for ended up being a total breeze as it was open book. Your nerves had immediately vanished when you'd stepped into the auditorium and read that on the board. But now your nerves are back up as your final period is about to end. Band practice is after this. You'll have to face Harry in front of both of your other friends... who have no idea that you've made out with the new member... twice.

Harry hasn't stopped messaging you all day thanking you for giving him a chance again and asking if he could take you out after practice. You haven't answered yet, every time you try to write one up your fingers word vomit and you end up deleting your drafts. You want to say yes to him but you feel like you might be braver telling him face to face.

When you hear your professor announce that he's dismissing you early you practically jump out of your seat. This could be the perfect opportunity to go see Harry early. He's been done with class for about an hour now and is already at the auditorium waiting so you rush over. You don't take the time to put away your pencil case or your notebook, keeping them in your hands as you make your way.

"Hope you haven't been ghosting me, sweetheart" Harry calls out immediately as you walk into the auditorium. He's lying down on the edge of the stage, a leg hanging off the side with his phone in hand above his head. He doesn't turn to look at you but you can't blame him so you're quick to walk to him ready to explain yourself.

"I wasn't I swear! I just kept overthinking my answers... thought I'd have an easier time answering in person" you tell him as you put down your things on one of the seats.

"Understandable, things can be more complicated to convey through a screen" his answer lifts a weight off of your shoulders. You were so worried he wouldn't understand.

"So, I'm glad you gave me a chance to get to know you" you start, "I know we weren't very welcoming and I'm sorry" You tentatively place your hand on Harry's chest, between both of his pecks.

"It's okay gorgeous, I know it's cause you were just so intimidated by my hot bod" he lightens the mood with his joke and you're so grateful.

"Mh, sure" you tease him with a shake of your head.

He gasps in mock offence batting your hand away from his chest. You laugh at his antics,

already thinking up your next answer. Harry doesn't let the hand that was on him go far grabbing it and tugging you closer to him.

"As for your other texts... I'd really like to go out with you later tonight" Your voice turns very weak at the end of your sentence, shyness taking over. Harry chuckles and tugs you to him again.

"You're so cute, darling" he smiles softly, "I'm glad I didn't scare you off" his free hand reaches out and wraps around your neck to cup your nape. He pulls your face down to his kissing your lips, once, twice, thrice...

"Riu and Maeve are going to be so confused when I tell them" you chuckle. Your friends might actually faint when you tell them you're going on a date with the Harry Styles.

"Let's just let them walk in while we kiss, easy way to announce it," he says with a wink. You smile and bend back down to lock lips... addicted to the way he feels.

"Or, you could write a song about how good kissing me is" you joke as you whip your hair backwards in an attempt to joke. Harry, however, takes your suggestion seriously.

"I've already got five written in my head, six if you kiss me again right now" And who are you to deny helping his creative juices?

You do end up shocking Maeve and Riu with your "very inappropriate spit swapping" Maeve's words, not yours.

[annabelle--cane]

you know those mainstream pieces of fiction where they try to do, like, a "nuanced" take on feminism by showing some sort of all-female separatist group and saying "misogyny is bad but so is being mean to men :("? those always really get my goat, because like. female separatism has all sorts of really glaring problems that you can make interesting commentary about, but "being too mean to men" is only maybe the fourth or fifth most pressing issue.

the glaring primary issues are the transphobia / racism / classism / etc that are kind of inherent to separatist spaces due to the whole, yknow, everything about how radical feminism came about and developed over the last few decades, but even if your piece of pop media doesn't have enough political teeth to get into all of that then why are you covering feminist topics in the first place lmao there's still the massive problem that all kinds of separatist spaces are high control groups. they encourage disconnection from the "outside world" so that the group can build up a real us vs them complex and the leaders can exert high levels of control over members' behavior and punish people who step out of line. but uhhh I guess reverse misogyny is worse than being a cult, sorry.

[kingkatsuki]

— mess

When something that’s supposed to be a 500 word drabble turns into almost 2k.

Bakugou cums in his pants, but luckily for him he has you to help clean him up.

Warnings: 40 year old virgin!Bakugou, inexperienced Bakugou, experienced reader (or just more experienced than Bakugou), dry humping, premature ejaculation- Bakugou cums in his pants, blow jobs, cum swallowing, not proofread.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Word Count: 1.8k.

It was no secret to you that Bakugou Katsuki is a virgin.

Spending the majority of his earlier years chasing his dream of becoming number one, he’d barely found the time to form any sustainable relationships. The few that he’d started barely managed to last a few months before they broke down into nothing, the focus on his goals and dreams too strong to be pushed to the side.

Of course that didn’t stop the Internet and mainstream media from portraying him as a sex icon. Headlines and new stories would often talk about sordid exploits and the lines of women that he’d shared steamy escapades with, when in reality that couldn’t be further from the truth.

And even pushing forty, Bakugou Katsuki is still a virgin. Something that had never really bothered him before, content with working out his frustrations with his fist in the shower to ensure minimal clean up after. Bakugou hated making a mess.

But things were different with you.

You make it difficult for him to think, to remember to breathe as your tongue flicks against his parted lips to delve inside and your hips grind against his lap. The air is hot and heavy as rough hands scramble for purchase, settling on the plush of your hips as he tries to slow you down. To give him a second to think—

Maybe it was naive of him to expect a warm mug set down in front of him when you invited him in for coffee, and not your warm body straddling his hips instead.

Not that he was complaining.

Everything is all too much and not enough at the same time, as he finds himself using his grip to push you down against his crotch with purpose. Chasing that sensation as your lips pepper scorching kisses against the rough stubble littering his jawline.

In the three months you’d been dating, you’d never done anything like this. And Bakugou found himself wondering why you hadn’t, especially when it felt like this—

“Is this too much?” You managed to make out from between heated kisses, trying to stop yourself from grinding down on top of him. But it was easier said than done when your body craved the delectable friction he gave your needy clit.

“No,” He growled, “Fuck—”

The word tumbled from Bakugou’s lips as a desperate groan, your palm pressed against his sternum as he’s certain you can feel the swift thud of his heartbeat. As if you’re controlling it’s pace while your pretty whines are like music to his ears, a sound that has his cock throbbing desperately between his thighs. Everything feels so new, and yet he’s certain he’ll never tire of the sensation as your hips press down harder against his bulge.

“Katsuki.” The one word that seals his death sentence, the sultry lilt to your tone has him throwing his head back to rest against the couch as his hips jerk beneath you. Pushing his throbbing cock into your clothed cunt as he feels the heat radiating from you, crimson eyes rolling back as he feels it.

That sweet release that he’s been craving wracks through him in harsh waves, the euphoria inexplicable as for the first time he allows it to take over. Each muscle in his body relaxing as the pleasure consumes him whole, raspy groans tumble from deep in his chest as you pull back to stare at his face.

“Did you just—?” You smile, your fruity gloss smeared against his lips and cheek as the words finally have Bakugou crashing back down to earth.

“Shit.” He grunts, as the shameful reality begins to permeate his body, “I’m fuckin’ sorry, alright. I didn’t—“

What was he even supposed to say? He just came in his pants like a fucking teenager.

“I’ve never—”

“It’s not a big deal,” You smile, soft hands sliding up his body to stroke against his shoulders, “It’s kinda hot actually.”

It’s easy for you to say when you can’t feel the effects— his hot spend leaks from his engorged tip, his boxers stick to his skin uncomfortably as his release mattes in his trimmed pubic hair.

“Sorry,” He grumbles as you press a final lingering kiss to his cheek before starting to climb off his lap.

Embarrassment continues to seep through his body, feeling a heat rise to his cheeks as he prepares more apologies. Missing the closeness of you already, your warm hips in his hands as your body fits snug against him. He’s fucked it up this time—

But imagine his surprise when your knees nudge against his to spread his thick muscular thighs, dropping your body between them as you stare up at him with mirth.

“What’s so funny?” He almost snarls, the shame overpowers any other emotions as he prepares to stand up to excuse himself from the whole situation.

“Nothing,” Your eyes sparkle with mischief as you reach up to begin unbuckling the heavy belt he wears, “You have no idea how hot that was, do you?”

“What?” He frowns as his muscles stiffen when you unbuckle his belt and begin to pop his zipper, unable to stop the groan from slipping between parted lips when the metal grazes his softening bulge.

“You made such a mess, Katsuki.” You coo, the fabric of his boxers a dark grey from his spend as you press your thumb against it.

Baku you sucks a sharp breath through gritted teeth when your fingers slip beneath the hem, tugging them down to settle around his throbbing balls as you discover the mess he made. The mess that’s your fault, if anyone were to ask. The wet fabric tacks to his sticky skin as you peel it back, the air in the room hits wet skin as his release begins to dry.

“What’re ya doin’?” He mumbles, sliding a large palm along the length of his face to shield his eyes. As though that’ll stop the shame that still floods his body, the reality that he’s still an inexperienced virgin.

“Is this okay?” You answer his question with another one, leaning forward as your breath fans against his skin.

“Fuck—” He grunts, “Yeah— I—”

The question falls apart the moment you lean forward to lick a long, languid stripe against the underside of his semi-hard cock. Following the silvery streaks of his release as you taste the sharpness on your tongue, hips jerking when your tongue reaches his frenulum.

You can feel Bakugou getting hard again, heavy balls throb as your lips wrap around the blushing head, the tip of your tongue prods against his slit as you lap at the beads of cum that continue to ooze out of him. Wrapping a warm palm around his sticky length as you stroke him back to life, strong thighs squeeze your shoulders as you pull more delicious sounds from his throat.

Bakugou’s mind is hazy, uncertain that he can even cum again after the mind numbing climax he’d just experienced, but you’ve already made his mind up for him. Fingers circle around the base as your palm presses against his pubic bone, taking him deeper as his tip hits the back of your throat.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” He rasps, calloused hands ball into fists as blunt nails dig into his palms, “Is this what they’re callin’ coffee now’a days.”

“You don’t seem to be complaining, Katsuki.” You coo.

He’s already pent up as he tries to think of anything else to stop him from coming undone quite so fast this time. But it’s near impossible with the way your glossy lips feel wrapped around his cock, your tongue tracing the prominent veins that bulge along the underside as he bucks into your mouth.

A low hum vibrates in your throat as you take him deeper, teasing his balls with your fingers as you feel him begin to stiffen. His chest heaving with rough, labored breaths as you stare up at him from beneath thick lashes. Tempting him to give you all he’s got to give.

You subtly rub your thighs together for some kind of relief as your clit throbs beneath your soaked panties, imagining how the sheer size of him would fill you up and stretch you out. Imagining the delicious ache when he finally slides into your tight, wet heat.

Bakugou can already feel himself teetering on the edge of another climax. His fist no comparison to the way your warm, soft lips feel around his cock. Certain he’ll never be able to cum again without you, no way to scratch that itch without feeling you like this between his thighs.

“I’m gonna— fuck,” He groans.

A soft stroke of your thumb against his taint is all it takes to have him soaring into his release, his hips bucking wildly off the couch as he forces himself inside your mouth to the hilt. The neatly trimmed hairs at the base of his cock tickle your nose as the throbbing tip hits the back of your throat as he comes undone.

Catching his mess in your mouth as ropes of his warm spend begin to spurt from his thick cock. The desperate grunts that rumble deep in his chest do nothing to satiate the desire that brews inside you as you taste him on your tongue, taking everything he’s got to give you as you move up to circle the pink tip. Claiming the last few pearls of milky cum as Bakugou’s large palms move to the back of your head to pull you off his oversensitive cock.

“What was that?” He rasps hoarsely as you press a final, lingering kiss to the underside of his cock. The heavy weight of it lays flat against his crotch as you lean your cheek against his thigh, smiling up at him as you lick your lips in satisfaction.

“I was cleaning up the mess you made,” You tease, reaching up to playfully squeeze his balls. But this time Bakugou is quicker, his hand catches your wrist before you make contact has he frowns down at you from half-lidded eyes.

“That was all your fault.” He murmurs, the embarrassment still ebbs at the back of his mind as he’s reminded painfully how much of a virgin he still is. Certain that if that’s how your mouth felt, he wouldn’t last thirty seconds plunging into your tight cunt.

“My fault?” You part your lips in mock surprise, “You made a mess of me too, you know. You should be the one cleaning me up.”

“What?” He certainly didn’t do anything. Sitting back on the couch as he allowed you to use him as you so pleased.

“Yeah,” Your lips curled into a mischievous smirk, slipping your legs from beneath you as you spread your thighs on the ground between him. Your skirt riding up from the position as you gave Bakugou a show of your lacy panties, already feeling your slick staining the material, “You wanna see?”

[fuctacles]

Trans is fine, but you better not be a Swiftie!

For @subeddieweek Day 5 | T | 1502 | cw: hinted transphobia | transfem Steve, PDA, rockstar Eddie, jealousy, possesive Stevie, bitchy Stevie | Ao3 Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Ao3

It took the whole of Corroded Coffin to convince her to go to the concert. It may make her sound like an unsupportive girlfriend, but she hasn't been to any of their gigs in months. Eddie never complained about it, aware that metal concerts aren't for everyone, even if they do like the music. She's also hit a weird stage in her transition when she didn't feel like going to public events. 

But here she was, at their first solo concert, no festival to crutch on. In the newest band t-shirt, one she saw through every stage of designing, her tits barely making a dent (Eddie had a different opinion on that topic), while two skanks next to her had her cleavages on full display in their tiny cut-up t-shirts.

They were in the VIP lounge, waiting for the band to emerge from backstage. Stevie could have been there with them, but the rush and heat behind a concert like this gave her a worse headache than the actual music. So instead, she had to sit there with two textbook examples of a groupie. And one of them looked meaner than Carol, back from high school, when she didn't get her chocolate pudding.

"You sure you're in the right place?" one of them finally speaks up.

Stevie looks pointedly at her band t-shirt. 

"Is this not a Taylor Swift concert?" she asks, eyes going wide. The second girl presses her lips, holding back a laugh. The first one narrows her eyes, though. 

"Don't sass me, girlie, you know what I mean," she hisses. "Wearing plain jeans and a hoodie to meet Eddie Munson? That's so disrespectful."

Stevie wouldn't call her jeans plain. They were expensive mom-cut and made her ass look good. The girl didn't need to know she treated them like a premium version of sweatpants. And the hoodie was Eddie's. He gave it to her before going on stage tonight. 

She shrugs off her words.

"I don't think he'll mind."

The girl scoffs. 

"Oh, he's too nice to say anything, but he'll know you're a poser. Who goes to a metal concert dressed like that? He'd never go for you."

Stevie raises her eyebrows, taken aback.

"Excuse me?"

"Excuse you," the girl barks back, nonsensically. Her friend touches her arm as if giving her a sign to back dial it down, but she either doesn't notice or chooses to ignore her. "You don't look like you're here for the music, hell, you probably can't name a single song!"

(Stevie named some of them herself.)

"So you must be here for Eddie," she concludes with a sneer. 

"Well, I am here for him," Stevie deadpans truthfully. This seems to further fuel her VIP lounge companion.

"Keep dreaming. He's into real metalheads," she says haughtily, popping the collar of her battle vest. It's so cartoonish it takes everything from Stevie not to burst out laughing. "What do you even listen to? Country?"

"Taylor Swift, I already told you."

"See, Eddie hates normies like you. Swifties are so fucking mainstream, you'll just embarrass yourself. Maybe you should go," she suggests with a pointed look.

Stevie gives her a pitying smile back. Clearly, she wasn't as big of a fan as she claimed to be if she hadn't seen the photos of Eddie in official Taylor Swift merch that were trending just a couple of months ago. 

"Eddie's looking for someone real, not a fake bitch like you."

She was going to play nice, but that was taking it too far. She felt her hackles rise and her face turned into a frown.

But before she could say anything, the second girl slapped her friend on the chest.

"What the fuck, dude?! You can't just say shit like that!"

"Like what?!" She slaps her back. "Do you think she actually cares about their music? She screams fake pop shit!" She throws her hand back, motioning at Stevie.

Who was too taken aback to react at this point.

"Fuck, I thought you were being transphobic." The girl lets out a nervous laugh. "Sorry."

"What?" The first girl takes a glance back at Stevie like she hasn't noticed before. It was kind of flattering, considering she wasn't that far in her transition, but she wouldn't take an idiot's oversight as a compliment. "I don't care about that! Mainstream music is a bigger sin than being transgender!"

"I'll drink to that."

The band chose this moment to appear at the steps to the lounge, Eddie raising the water bottle in his hand in a mock cheer. 

"Eddie!" The two girls stand up in unison, and it takes all of Stephanie's willpower not to roll her eyes. Instead, she gives a wry smile to Jeff, who seems to be in a similar state of mind.

"We're here too, you know," he murmurs under his breath. 

Gareth nudges his arm.

"Well, I'm glad they're not here for me," he whispers back.

Stevie snorts after hearing that, but the girls are none the wiser, too preoccupied with their beloved frontman.

"Hello ladies, hope you didn't wait too long," he greets them, accepting their enthusiastic hugs and letting them kiss his cheek. 

Stevie keeps her face carefully neutral.

"It's okay, we know you're exhausted after the concert." The first girl smiles sweetly at him, and it's becoming increasingly difficult for Stevie not to gag at the shift in attitude. "I'd wait the whole night to meet you." She might need a bucket right now.

Eddie laughs nervously, taking a step back to put some distance between them.

"Ashley and Xena, right?" he asks.

"I'm Xena!" The girl exclaims, clearly proud of her unusual name. Stevie does roll her eyes this time.

Gareth appears in front of her, snickering, and she punches him softly in the thigh before raising the same fist to fist bump him. He offers her the tray of cookies he picked up from the table.

"Hi. How are you doing?"

"I'm fine." She shrugs and picks up one of the cookies. "Thanks."

He nods and retreats to one of the couches. There are three of them, set up in a triangle around a table with snacks and drinks. Which is very convenient, making Stevie think Chrissy has planned it out.

"You already know them, but it's rude not to introduce my friend." Eddie grins, making room for the rest of the band to properly greet the fans. "This is Jeff, Gareth, and Grizzly the Teddy-bear. He gives the best hugs," he says with a grin. Ted rolls his eyes.

"Just Ted is fine. But I do give the best hugs." He grins.

Eddie leaves them to it and finally goes to sit next to his girlfriend, throwing his arms over the back of the sofa and sinking into the cushions.

"I'm so tired," he groans. 

"Too tired to greet me properly?" she asks with a raised eyebrow. She can feel the eyes of the other girls on them.

"Never." Eddie raises his head immediately. "Sorry, baby." He leans in to kiss her on the cheek, but she moves her head away.

"I said properly," she repeats, but her tone shifts into her more authoritative one. He hesitates for a millisecond, but his eyes don't even shift away to look at their surroundings. Stevie enjoys the power trip, seeing him uncaring of who's looking and where they are.

"Of course, sorry," he amends, straightening up to go in for a proper kiss.

He lets out a surprised whimper when she dominates it immediately, grasping his chin and claiming his mouth like she's been starving for it throughout the whole concert. Eddie goes limp in her grasp, but she wants to make it clear who he belongs to. She grabs his knee possessively, angling him even more towards her, and her other hand moves from his chin to his hair. His locks are damp with sweat after the concert, but she doesn't mind, because it's exactly how she likes him. Dirty, unkempt, falling apart under her hands. 

She tugs at his hair, messing further the haphazard bun he's tied it into. He sighs, melting further into her, and it makes it easier to grasp his thighs and pull him into her lap. They finally part with a wet smack, and she can look into her boyfriend's glossy eyes.

"There's my good boy," she praises. "Hi."

"Hi," he croaks back with a dazed smile.

"Booo, get a room!" one of their friends speaks up. 

Eddie groans and hides in the crook of her neck, too weak from the kiss to face the teasing yet. So Stevie takes over the social interaction for him, lacing her hands together at the small of his back while he collects himself. She sticks out her tongue to Gareth.

"Shut up, we'll behave now," she says, before turning to the two girls, her jaws shattered on the floor and there to stay for her to stomp on. She smiles charmingly at them. "You guys were saying?"

Shameless plug: @stevieweek

[eddiesghxst]

PRICE OF FAME (PART 11/12)

gasp she's finally here !!!

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader

summary: the last day of tour has arrived and you're pushed to make a difficult choice

contains: enemies to lovers trope, alcohol consumption, smoking, sexual themes, mentions of oral, angst, and more glimpses of eddie being boyfriend coded <3

word count: 6k

| previous part | next part |

| series masterlist | -main masterlist- |

song inspo for this chappy, thx to my stink @mmunson86 ily hehe:

Sunday mornings are meant for being lazy.

You wake up, you toss around in bed for a bit, maybe turn on the TV, and order food if you’re at a nice hotel like you are now— which had been your plan. You had wanted to try the strawberry crepes here for ages, and you planned to finally order it to start the last day of your short-lived tour on the right foot— but apparently, someone doesn’t believe in the mainstream concept of Sunday morning.

It’s seven in the morning when you get a knock on your door. You want to ignore it— and you have every intention to do so— except the person at the door is incessant and apparently doesn’t get the hint of silence.

It makes sense, though, when you open the door to see who is banging on your door like a madman. Eddie, of course. 

“Housekeeping!”

He’s got a cute, wide smile and damp curls that make your chest flutter even though you still have one foot in a dream. Although, you think the dream might be the man standing before you, clad in jeans and a graphic tee, and beaming at you.

“Eddie, it’s seven in the morning.” You grumble.

Eddie’s smile widens, “I know. Perfect time for a walk in the park.” He says before pushing past you and walking into your room. Your eyebrows furrow as you watch him walk over to your window and open the blinds. You rapidly blink at the sunlight, “I– what? A walk?”

Eddie turns to you, smiling still as he nods, “Yes. Down at Central Park. They’ve always got cute dogs down there, and I know a place with pancakes to die for.”

You’re too tired to even wrap your mind around how cute of an image Eddie with dogs would be, “Woah… woah, woah, wait— Eddie, I— I would love to,” you blink hard, “But I’m still half asleep, and I only got to bed like four hours ago, so I think I’d pass out on a walk right now.” You softly laugh.

You feel a twinge of guilt stir in your gut, so you step forward to Eddie, reaching out to rest a hand on his bicep and gently squeeze, “Why don’t we order coffee up and sit on the balcony until my mind warms up a bit?” You offer.

Which, now that you think of it, was a perfect idea because there’s a cool breeze this morning that gives you an excuse to press up against Eddie’s side and curl into the heat of him as you sip on warm coffee and watch Eddie burn through cigarettes. Eddie was bold enough to drag your legs to rest across his lap, and you decide to blame your compliance on lack of sleep rather than desire.

“Are you nervous for tonight?” You wonder aloud, watching as the morning sun cracks through his fluttering eyelashes. Eddie’s lips pull into a smile, “No.” He leans into you, “Are you?”

You snort, pressing your fingers into the warm ceramic mug, “Why would I be nervous?”

Eddie shrugs, “Maybe I’ve got a surprise up my sleeve or something.” He teases. His fingers are warm and send goosebumps across your skin as they dance across your leg, inching up your thigh until you slightly squirm. Eddie doesn’t even try to hide the smirk on his lips.

You ignore his wandering hands as best as you can, although the lick of heat that runs up your spine when he fiddles with the hem of your baggy shirt sends your mind spinning, a dull throb of your center when his knuckles brush the crease of your hip. You raise an eyebrow, gazing at him and cocking your head to the side, “Well, do you?”

Eddie glances at you, busy drawing stars inside your thighs, “No.”

You roll your eyes, shoving your foot into his jean-clad thigh as he barks out a laugh, hands squeezing your bare calves. “That’s not funny, Munson. You’re on probation, you know?”

Eddie tilts his head, dreamy gaze in his eyes as he gently squeezes your calves, “I know. I’m working on it, though… which reminds me—” You take a deep breath, slinking your legs out of his grip and sitting up straight to stretch, “Think I’m in the mood for those pancakes now.” You hum.

Eddie gazes at you, jaw loose as he watches you stand up and completely dodge what he’s been spinning out about for the last twenty-four hours. “Birdie—” “Yeah, I’m starving now that I think of it. Let’s go.” You wrap your fingers around his wrist and tug him up, ignoring his grumbles of protest.

It should be studied, the pull Eddie has on you, because here you both are in a booth at an old breakfast diner, and all you can think about is how you want nothing more than to slink over to the other side and burrow yourself in the warmth of his embrace.

But Eddie’s friends are here.

The entire ensemble: Nancy, Robin, Steve, Gareth, Jeff, and even Eric, who you hardly even see because he’s the busiest with groupies out of the Corroded Coffin band.

They caught you and Eddie on your way down to the lobby, and well… they just tagged along. Eddie wasn’t so happy about it, mumbling about how he can never shake these assholes, but you just snickered and told him to be nice.

So, now, you’re sitting across from Eddie in a diner with the smell of pancakes and maple syrup wafting through the air and a friendly chatter ringing throughout the table.

You try your hardest to pay attention to the conversations, but it’s hard when Eddie is glancing at you with these eyes that melt your insides. It doesn’t help when he leans forward on the table, shoulders pressing into the edge as his fingers skim your knee beneath it. You raise an eyebrow when he takes a menu, opens it, and stands it up to block the view of his friends as he beckons you forward. You lean forward, chest fluttering at the sight of Eddie’s pretty eyes so up close, pouty lips and curly hair that you want to reach out and card your fingers through. He’s a dream, no doubt about it.

“Let’s ditch them.”

You snort, rolling your eyes, “You can’t ditch your friends, Eddie.”

Eddie makes a face, “Why not? They crashed, and I have work to do.”

You tilt your head in confusion, “Work?”

Eddie grumbles, his voice carrying an obvious tone, “Yeah, I’ve only got until tonight to pay my dues.” He reminds you. You hum with a teasing glint, “I reckon that’s a fault on your part, Munson.”

Before Eddie can respond, the menu is torn out of his hands to reveal Gareth and Jeff snickering, “You do know we can still see you two, right?” Eric teases.

Eddie rolls his eyes, “I don’t know if you dipshits got the memo, but you definitely weren’t invited to this.”

You giggle, nudging your foot against his shin, “Don’t be rude,” You mumble. “Yeah, Eddie, don’t be rude.” Robin teases. 

Eddie grumbles, ignoring his snickering friends as he stands up, “All of you can fuck right off.” He sticks up a decorated middle finger to his table of friends, and you smile as you slide out of the booth, warmth spreading through your body when he reaches around to grab your sweater. 

“Oh, come on, we were just joking, Eds!”

Eddie waves them off, slinking an arm around your body to rest a hand on the small of your back, gently ushering you toward the exit as his friends create a scene.

“Hey, don’t be late to soundcheck, asshole, we won’t hear the end of it from Richie!” Jeff calls out, but Eddie doesn’t answer because he’s walking you both outside of the diner and muttering something about them being a pain in his ass.

“We could just take a flight out somewhere far away from them, princess. Say the word, and I’ll book it.” Eddie jokingly offers. You smile as you take your sweater from him with a small thanks, “They love you. That’s a good thing to have.” You remind him. Eddie rolls his eyes, scratching at the back of his neck as you begin walking down the street, “Sure, except not when I have important things to do. Which, when are you gonna put me out of my misery and tell me what you think?”

You hum, feing ignorance as you blink up at Eddie, “Think about what, Eddie?” 

Eddie stares at you, blinking once before his lips spread into a smile, “You’re lucky you’re pretty.” He teasingly says through gritted teeth, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you in as he jokingly presses his palm to your face, laughing as you squeal and squirm in his hold. “Eddie Munson thinks I’m pretty. How cute.” You mock as you grapple at his wrist, prying his hand from your face, “Only took him a month to figure that out.”

Eddie laughs, “See, that’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart,” He drawls, “I always knew you were pretty. I never thought you weren’t pretty. Who told you that?” “Nobody told me that; you just,” you shrug, “Kind of hated my guts, so it went hand in hand.”

Eddie’s eyes soften at that, and your cheeks warm as his gaze zones in on you. You clear your throat, glancing away, “Are we going to eat or what, Munson? I told you I’m starving, and you just dragged me out of that diner, so.” 

Eddie nods, “Yeah, yeah,” He waves before lacing his fingers with yours to drag you along, “I got a place in mind; let’s go.”

“If you wanted strawberries on your pancakes, then you should’ve asked for them.”

Eddie, you are learning, has sticky fingers. Sticky in the metaphorical sense where he just takes things without asking and sticky in the literal sense where he keeps reaching over to steal strawberries from your plate and ends up dipping his fingers in your maple syrup as well.

He’s like a child for fucks sake! Touching things he shouldn’t be touching and grinning at you with a ‘you can’t do anything about it because I’m cute’ glint in his eyes.

You watch as Eddie sucks the syrup off his thumb and smirks at you as he says, “Sharing is caring, you know?”

You look at his plate, tilting your head with a smirk before asking, “Yeah? Then can I have your hash browns?” Eddie glances at his plate, a frown spreading across his lips as he looks at you, “But there’s barely any left.” He points out.

Your eyebrows raise, and he sighs in defeat, cutting into his hash browns to give you half of it. You snicker as he carefully reaches over to put the side dish on your plate, pursing your lips to hold a laugh when you look up at him. “What’s so funny?” He grumbles, stabbing into his food and shoving a fork full into his mouth.

“Nothing. I just, like, hate hash browns.”

Eddie stops midchew, looking up at you for a brief moment. He’s silent as he resumes chewing his food and swallowing, quietly eyeing you for a moment before clearing his throat. “You hate hash browns?” He asks.

You nod as you take a bite of your eggs, and Eddie looks at you like you just told him something concerning. “I—... what do you mean you hate hash browns? Do you like potatoes?”

You shrug, taking a sip of your drink, “Sure.”

“Do you like fries?”

“I love fries.”

“Tater tots?”

“I like them every now and then,” You shrug.

Eddie’s head cocks in confusion, eyes narrowing, “So what’s the problem with hash browns?”

Your eyebrows raise, and an amused smile spreads across your lips, “Holy shit. I’m getting the sense that you might, I don’t know… love hash browns or something?”

Eddie scoffs, “Of course I fucking love hash browns. Are you fucking kidding me? Who doesn’t like hash browns?”

“Tommy Lommi.”

“Well then, they’re fucking weird— wait…” Eddie blinks at you and stares like you’ve just discovered time travel. “What do you mean, Tommy Lommi? How do you know Tommy Lommi hates hash browns?”

You shrug, “Ate breakfast with the band a few years ago. They gave him hash browns, and he returned the entire plate. A lot of people hate hash browns, Eddie.”

Eddie waves a hand in dismissal, scooting closer to the table as he responds in a hurried and amused tone, “You had breakfast with Black fucking Sabbath?” He exclaims.

You hold back a smile as you blink at the man before you, his brown eyes wide and blown from adrenaline, “Yeah, it— it was, like, a work thing. I was doing a short piece on them, so Anna and I had lunch with them and their manager.” At the mention of your manager's name, you make a mental note to call and update her on your piece.

Eddie raises two hands to his head, grasping his hair like he’s in distress, as he lets out a loud sound, drawing attention. You giggle, reaching out to grab his wrist and lower him back down to the table, “Eddie, you’re making a scene—” “You met Ozzy, and you just, like, casually forgot to mention that to me? Like he’s not my idol? Like he’s not my literal lord and savior? Do you even care about me?” He exclaims in a loud voice. 

Your eyes widen in amusement as the man practically spins out right in front of you. “I’m sorry! I didn’t think it— wait, haven’t you met him before? Like on a red carpet or something?”

Eddie scoffs, leaning back into the booth and pulling a face like the words you’ve just said are rubbish. “Yeah, right. Like Ozzy Osborne would willingly surround himself with a bunch of untrained nuts like the boys of Corroded Coffin. He’s a professional, Birdie. That’s an insult.”

You giggle, gently nudging your plate away, taking a deep breath from feeling so full as you shrug, “Maybe if you cleaned up your act, it would happen.” You teasingly say.

Eddie looks at you, runs his eyes over your face, and smirks as he folds his arms over his chest, reaching up with one hand to twirl a piece of his hair between his fingers. “Yeah? And how do you suggest we do that?” He slinks his feet forward, gently tapping his shoe against yours before hooking an ankle around yours.

You hum, “I don’t know. Maybe cut back on the parties. Less reckless act and more calculated rockstar. Less groupies… none, if that.” You mutter the last part, and Eddie snickers. He hums as well, tipping his head side to side as if he’s thinking, “And would you say maybe,” He clears his throat, “Like, a girlfriend would do good as well?”

You huff out a laugh, “Nice try, Munson.” You snicker. “You’re far from girlfriend status with me.” 

Eddie lowly hums, taking a deep breath as he shifts in his seat, “Yeah, well, I intend on changing that, so, are you done eating?”

Eddie’s sure that Richie will chew him out.

It’s the last day of tour before the next leg starts in a month, and Eddie is almost an hour late to soundcheck. Richie was adamant about being on schedule for today because it’s the last show, and Richie’s a goddamn perfectionist (who would take on the job of managing a group of rowdy rockstars if they have the personality of a fucking sergeant?). But honestly, Eddie doesn’t have a single bone in him that cares because— well, why would he care when he’s spent all day with you practically pressed into his side? 

You’re Eddie’s every dream compacted into the cutest, kindest, prettiest human he’s ever fucking known, and Eddie keeps having these moments where he wants to smash his head through a brick wall for ever letting a cruel word form on his tongue towards you. He would pay an endless amount of money to rewind time and do it over again, do it right, and give you the respect you deserve.

Then maybe you would stop dodging his kisses.

“Come on, just one?” He begs, watching as you walk a few steps ahead of him. Eddie won’t lie; it’s a great view he’s got from behind. You’re wearing these black ripped jeans that hug your ass and thighs so perfectly Eddie wants nothing more than to sink his teeth into you.

You shake your head, “Nope. A kiss has never been a kiss with you, and I’m not too keen on giving Richie more reasons to put me in time-out. You’re also definitely still on probation.”

Eddie grunts, “This is just cruel, sweetheart.”

He jogs a bit to catch up to speed with you, “While we’re on the topic, what’d he say to you?”

You glance at Eddie, brows furrowing, “Who? Richie?”

Eddie nods, and you shrug. “I assume the same thing he told you. Told me to hold off on it until the magazine blows over in the fanbase.”

Eddie hums because, well, that’s not what Richie told Eddie. Actually, Richie told Eddie to just forget it, don’t even attempt to do anything with that woman because when you fuck up, I’m gonna be the one left to clean it up. And isn’t that Richie’s fucking job? Isn’t that precisely why Richie was hired? To clean up the boys’ mess and make their appearance seem squeaky clean. 

“I don’t blame him, though.” 

Eddie’s neck practically snaps in your direction, and he has to stop you from walking any further down the backstage hallways because what the fuck are you saying right now?

“What do you mean?”

You shrug, glancing up at Eddie, “I mean, he’s just doing his job, Eddie. He’s trying to protect your image, and, honestly, I didn’t understand where he was coming from until he pointed out that I’m still practically press in the eyes of the industry, so.”

“Well, that’s bullshit.” Eddie snaps. Doesn’t mean to snap, really. Doesn’t mean to have a harsh tone or sound upset with you because he’s not. He’s upset with the situation and the absolute mess he’s created from having his head up his ass for so long. He’s upset because he doesn’t want to wait until the magazine blows over. He’s upset because he’s finally admitting to what he wants, and you’re right there, and he wants to work on getting you but fucking Richie— jesus christ, Eddie’s going to choke that bastard.

“That doesn’t even fucking make sense,” Eddie exclaims, “I already fucked up. There’s not much to fuck up at this rate.”

“It’s different when there’s feelings involved, Eddie.” And Eddie doesn’t like that. He doesn’t like that you sound as if you’re siding with Richie, and he doesn’t like that you’re using your hot ass journalist tone with him. “What difference does it make?” Eddie stresses.

“Because shit could hit the fan. Things could go bad again, and, in Richie’s eyes, I could easily become an enemy. It’s a rational call to make.”

No.

No, no, no, this isn’t what Eddie wants, and it’s not how Eddie wants you picturing what you two could be— a disaster. 

Eddie blinks, heart pounding in his chest because god, he wants you and he’s scared he’s lost you before even getting the chance to fix things. “So… is that— is that what you want? To wait?”

You gaze up at Eddie, “I— no?”

Eddie frowns, stomach churning as you look away to avoid his gaze, “That didn’t sound confident. You don’t want to do this?”

“It’s… That’s not what I’m saying. I just— I’m not quite sure where this is aiming.”

“What do you mean? I told you how I feel.”

You make an exasperated noise, stepping out from the wall Eddie had you caged against, “No, you haven’t told me how you feel. You’ve told me what you want. That’s not enough.”

And you’re looking at Eddie with these eyes that make him want to crack open his chest and let you see it for yourself because fuck, the only time Eddie has ever confessed his feelings to someone, she ended up breaking his heart without a single care in the world.

And for this entire month, you’ve been slipping from Eddie’s hands, but this is the time that he’s actually felt it. He feels dizzy and sick and so angry with himself.

“I— well, how do you feel?” Eddie asks.

It’s like time slows as you gaze up at Eddie, eyes filled with so many words and uncertainty that Eddie has only himself to blame for. “I don’t know.” You softly reply.

Eddie says nothing as he stares back, gently nodding as you slink your arms around yourself, “I don’t know, Eddie. I’m… I don’t know this side of you— and that’s not to say I don’t like or want it, but— but what happens when we get bored without the chase?” 

Eddie’s heart breaks. 

“When?”

Your eyes fall shut, and you shake your head, “That’s not what I meant–” “But that’s what you said.”

“Yes, but I didn’t mean for it to come out that way. You know what I mean, Eddie.”

Eddie scoffs as he steps back, “No, Birdie, honestly, I don’t. I’m actually, like, really fucking confused right now.”

Your face twists in defense and your eyes glint with something that Eddie can’t quite put his finger on, and it makes him want to scream. “You seriously can’t be upset with me for being hesitant on this, Eddie.”

Eddie looks at you, pauses, and holds his breath before shaking his head, “No, I’m—” He steps forward, “I’m sorry. I’m not upset.”

Your lips are pulled into a frown as Eddie reaches out to softly skim his knuckles across your elbow, silently asking for you to stay open for him. “I’m not upset with you.” He repeats. 

You don’t step closer or move away, and Eddie takes that as a win either way. But before either of you can say anything else, Eddie is being whisked away with his assistant and promising to finish the conversation afterward.

You don’t see Eddie for the rest of the day, and for the first time, it’s not Eddie’s fault but yours.

You regret to admit that the small dispute you and Eddie had caused you to spiral within your thoughts, and you spent most of the day holed up in your room packing, writing, pacing, and thinking until you exhausted yourself. On a good note, though, the day passes quickly, and before you know it, you’re making your way down the Madison Square Garden backstage halls.

You’ve walked these halls enough to know your way around by heart now, so you don’t have trouble finding the dressing room. The usual small group of ladies that stand outside are there in their Sunday best for the show finale, passing a blunt between each other— and you don’t even notice the missing leader of the group until she’s storming out of the room.

“Fuck you, Eddie!” She turns to yell into the room. You watch from a few feet away, stunned and slightly terrified. She’s beautiful, even as mad as she is now; her red hair is styled in bouncy curls that jump and jolt with each wave of her hand, her heeled boots clicking on the ground with each stomp of her heel. She steps into the room, pointing at someone who you can only assume to be Eddie, but the door obstructs your view, “I knew you before you had a single fucking dime! If you think for one second she’s gonna stick with you through all of your bullshit rock and roll facade, then you’re wrong!” She snaps.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Kenny, please get rid of her.” You hear the familiar grumble of Eddie’s voice. Kenny, the security guard by the door, steps forward and ushers the angry woman away from the threshold. “Don’t fucking touch me.” She snatches her arm from his hold, and Kenny lifts a hand in surrender, “Look, I’m gonna have to get you banned from the building if you don’t leave. Make my job easier, please.” Kenny replies in a bored tone.

The girl scoffs with a roll of her eyes before turning around and storming down the hall, her posse quickly trotting behind.

You don’t hear the usual chatter in the dressing room, so you’re slightly suspicious as you walk up, kindly smiling towards Kenny as he lets you in. The door shuts behind you, and you take in the empty room, void of the usual hustle of band members and staff. 

“Kenny, I swear to god, if it’s another groupie, I’m gonna fire you.” You hear Eddie say from the ensuite restroom. Eddie doesn’t notice you as he walks into the room, busy ruffling his hair up for the show and walking toward the vanity, “I already told you who to let in.” 

Finally, Eddie lifts his head, a cigarette hanging from his lips as his eyes brighten when he sees you through the vanity mirror. You smile, shifting in your spot as Eddie whips around to look at you, “Hi.”

Eddie’s eyes widen as he takes in the view, eyes raking over your body as he blindly snuffs out his cigarette on the wooden vanity, face stunned as he walks over to you, “What the fuck?” He lowly says.

He’s reaching out to loop his fingers around your wrist and bring you closer, eyes traveling further and further down your frame, “What the fuck?” He repeats.

“Eddie,” You groan. “Where the fuck have you been hiding this, princess?” He exclaims.

“It’s nothing. Stop.” You grumble, but Eddie only shakes his head, “Nothing? Are you insane?” He steps back, hand wrapped in yours as his teeth dig into his bottom lip, “Let me look at you, come on.”

Your dress is black, tight, and form-fitting, with an off-the-shoulder neckline and a puffy lace hem matching the long sleeves' scrunchie endings. Two thin black straps hug your shoulders, tauntingly digging into your collarbones. The dress stops just above the middle of your thigh, leaving little to the imagination—- much in Eddie’s favor. Below the dress peeks out a black garter belt, two shiny silver clips winking at Eddie as they hold up your black thigh-high stockings. Your feet are held in shiny black stilettos. Sex.

Eddie nearly whimpers.

Eddie wants to sink to his knees, push up the skirt of your dress, and stuff his face between your legs. He wants to make you cum on his tongue until you’re pushing him away and begging for a break. Wants to feel the nylon stretch of your stockings scratching up against his ears as your legs clamp around his head. God, Eddie wants it, he wants it so fucking bad.

You smell sweet and taste even sweeter when Eddie presses his lips to yours, practically swallowing you whole— he would if he had the choice. Your lips split into a smile against Eddie’s, breathily laughing as he blindly leads you to the vanity, walking until he feels your body softly thud against the counter.

“Jesus. I’m gonna fuckin’ lose it,” Eddie grumbles against your lips, sloppy and wet, as he trails down to your jaw, neck, and collarbones. His hands are greedy as they grapple at your hips, squeezing the thicker parts to tilt you towards him, groaning when your pelvis drags against his quickly hardening length. You pant his name, one hand dropping to steady yourself against the counter as the other hand sinks into his damp, curly strands. Eddie groans, stuffing his face into your neck, licking and biting as he grinds you against him. You’re all whiney breaths and moans, and Eddie just can’t help himself when he nudges his nose against the strap of your dress before sticking his tongue out and dragging it up the length of the flimsy black piece.

Your head drops back, chest rising and falling with a sinful glisten under the vanity lights as Eddie drags his tongue all the way from your shoulder to your chin before smashing his lips back onto yours, fingers curled around the base of your neck. Wet, hot, and heavy.

Your lips curl against Eddie’s mouth, hips grinding against him, “S-should I be concerned about the angry woman that just stormed out of here?” You lowly ask.

Eddie laughs, smearing his lips against yours, teasingly flicking his tongue into your mouth, “Definitely not. Good fucking riddance.” Eddie can’t wait to tell you all about how he learned about Lany’s money-greedy actions that led him to the page of every tabloid with a false girlfriend.

You fail terribly to hold the snort that rises in your throat, and Eddie cuts it off with his mouth, swallowing your hums as he presses his body into yours. 

“Want you.” Eddie needily whispers. You whine, fingers curling against Eddie’s roots to draw a throaty groan from him. “Need to have you, baby—” “I— wait, wait, wait.” Your hands are pressing against Eddie’s shoulders, and god, Eddie feels lightheaded as he pulls away, blown-out eyes blinking down at you.

You huff, squirming against the counter, breath heavy and bated as you reach down to tug your dress down, “We need to talk.” 

Eddie swallows, running a hand through his hair as he gazes at you— and fuck, he’s so hard, and you’re so pretty, and Eddie thinks he might bust just looking at you.

Still, Eddie blinks through the thick fog of arousal and nods, taking a moment to not-so-discreetly adjust himself within his pants. 

Ever the gentleman, Eddie offers you the seat at the vanity, but you only shake your head, and well— fuck, Eddie just wants to get back to kissing you so he doesn’t fight it. He hops up onto the chair and gazes at you as you lean back against the vanity, fingers fidgeting with one another.

You’re avoiding Eddie’s gaze, and Eddie doesn’t like it very much, so he distracts himself by lighting a cigarette, but it does little to aid him in distraction when the words slip from your mouth.

“I think we need time away from each other.”

Eddie’s looking at you like you just told him you killed his dog, and you hate that you start feeling as if you’re wrecking everything when you know— when you both know— this is the best thing for the future.

The unlit cigarette between Eddie’s lips is removed and tossed to the side as he blinks at you, shaking his head with a confused and hurt expression, “W–what do you mean?”

You slink your arms across your body from instinct, mentally pushing yourself to stand on the rocky island you’ve built— because even though you want nothing more than to cave and throw yourself into Eddie’s arms and start over, it’s not right. You didn’t start on a good note, and it’s unfair to yourself or Eddie to avoid fully acknowledging that just because of your intense pull toward one another. You both need time.

“I don’t understand.”

“Just so we can have the space to figure out what we want and need from each other, you know?”

Eddie runs a hand over his face, “Is this about what happened earlier? Because I was being an asshole, I know, and I’m sorry, but just give me a chance–” You shake your head, stepping closer to Eddie and running your fingers over his wrists, “No. No, that’s not what this is about— I mean, it might’ve spurred it on, but it was on my mind before that.”

Eddie’s face twists in defeat, “I want to fix what I did, baby, just give me a chance.” 

You push his long bangs from his eyes, “I am, Eddie. I promise I am. But I need space— we need space.”

Eddie doesn’t even look at you, and your heart aches. “Everything’s been so quick, Eddie. It’s only been a month, and there’s been so many emotions—”

“That’s bullshit, Birdie, and you know it.”

You tense at his harsh tone, “Excuse me?”

“You said when,” He reminds you, “When you get bored. You really expect me to believe you ‘just want space’? You’re scared.” 

Your eyebrows dip in anger then, eyes narrowing at the man in front of you as your chest tightens, “And you’re not?”

“Yes!” He exclaims, ringed hands flailing in exasperation. “Yes, I’m fucking scared, obviously. I never would’ve fucked up this bad if I wasn’t scared.”

Your eyes are brimmed with tears, and you’re beginning to think maybe you shouldn’t have even come tonight. Maybe you should’ve just left without a single word and made Eddie hate you all over again. At least the foundations of your relationship were solid and clearly stated then.

How could everything have gotten so confusing in such little time?

Eddie notices your shifting demeanor and breathes, rubbing his eyes and smudging his eyeliner. You fight the instinct to reach out and fix it for him. “Okay, so… you want time apart.”

You nod, fingers twisting amongst themselves. Eddie turns his rings around his knuckles as silence cracks down on you both. Eddie swallows, eyes catching yours for a split moment, “Okay.” He nods.

You want to sink your hands into his and tell him you’re hurting just as much, wanting him just as much, but if you touch him now, you’re afraid you’ll never let go.

“It’ll be good, Eds.” You softly say.

The curtain of his hair obstructs Eddie’s face, but through the tiny windows, you can see the twitch of pain that flashes across his features. “Are you staying for the show?” He asks, eyes trained on his busy fingers, rings glistening in the lights. God, you want to give in to him so badly.

You shift in your spot, clearing your throat and blinking away tears, “I’ll never leave if I do…”

As if on cue, Kenny opens the door and pokes his head into the room, calling for Eddie to notify him of the running clock. You and Eddie only speak through gazes for a split moment, and you both know if he stays any longer, neither will leave this room. You only have enough strength to nod towards the door.

You can’t even watch Eddie leave. Because watching Eddie go seems to be the recurring theme of the month— but now, you’re sending him away— and it hurts. You were so close yet so far away from justice.

The dressing room is vast and holds Eddie's phantom presence and smell, and you can’t seem to hold the silent tears that end up soaking your cheeks. You can hear the distant screaming of fans, the loud booming of the opening to a song, and deep down, you understand that if you don’t leave now, you’ll end up in the crowd, there’s no doubt.

You don’t recognize the opening song for tonight, but you hear the words and Eddie’s voice crystal clear— tugging you back with every step you take towards the arena's door.

My head is haunting me and my heart feels like a ghost

I need to feel something, 'cause I'm still so far from home

Cross your heart and hope to die

Promise me you'll never leave my side

…..

So, you can drag me through hell

If it meant I could hold your hand

I will follow you, 'cause I'm under your spell

And you can throw me to the flames

I will follow you, I will follow you

The song echoes in your mind from the time the door slams shut to the moment you step into your cold apartment in Michigan, and it never stops.

————

part twelve

��———

a/n: OHHH PLS DONT HATE ME IT HAD TO BE DONE AND IM SORRY THIS IS ON NEW YEARS EVE !!! these two will be back for one more round of fun in 2024. ok let me shut up before i start saying all my sob shit

as always, thank u for reading if you've made it this far and i appreciate any feedback, ILY AND I HOPE YOU ALL HAVE A BEAUTIFUL NEW YEARS, STAY SAFE PLS <3

————

cutie lil taglist: @mastermindmiko @whataboutbibi @ryanmxrie @ihatepeanutss @tlclick73 @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @ye0nvibezzn @eddiesguitarskills @bibieddiesgf @chloe-6123 @micheledawn1975 @demxnicprxncess @emma77645 @sidthedollface2

@daddyhetfield @s-u-t @hereforshmut @mmunson86 @welcometohellsock @lma1986 @birdsinmywalls @animechick555 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @spideydreams00 @lorosette @prestinalove @sirensleepingsoundly @nabiiturner @catherinnn @mossiswriting @kellsck @joannamuns9n @siriuslysmoking

[jeonjcngkook]

industry baby: bts jeon jungkook collab

lights, cameras, action!

turn the lights down low and the music up for the newst collab to hit mainstream screens around you. whether you’re reading about this through the hottest magazine in town, hearing about it through the newest tracks to hit streaming platforms or watching it all go down on demand; immerse yourself with the incredible seventeen new fics from our talented writers that are bound to be the newest talk of the town. afterall, we’re all part of the industry, baby.

title: part time lover | by @sketchguk​

pairing: investigative journalist!jungkook x daycare-teacher!reader

genre(s)&au(s): smut, fluff, angst, fake marriage au, dad au, spy x family au

summary: there is no crime more perfect than marrying jeon jungkook. your relationship is nothing more than a ruse - while your friends pester you for being perpetually single, jungkook desperately needs a wife to complete the pristine image of a family, fooling his way through the parent interview at the nation’s most prestigious private school. only time will tell how deep your lies will run as you find home in one another’s minds. because untangled in the moonlight, he is but a spy, exposing a secret world of corruption, and you, an assassin, ridding the streets of danger one hit at a time.

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: the never ending man | by @joheunsaram

pairing: animator!jungkook x journalist!reader

genre(s)&au(s): ghibli studios au, documentary au, friends to lovers, angst, fluff, maybe smut

summary: reclusive award-winning animator jeon jungkook is known for works of whimsy, creating heart warming epithets that provoke reflection of the world. when the news of his early retirement shocks the world, you decide to bring the man behind the pen to the forefront, documenting his last work. his fans deserve to know him, much like you do. after all, in his ten years in the industry, you're the only journalist he has ever deemed worthy of interviews.

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: malevolence | by @jeonjcngkook​​

pairing: vampire-pornstar!jungkook x human!freader

genre(s)&au(s): modern vampire au, porn star au, smut, pwp, predator pray

summary: in a world where vampires live amongst the human world, it is strictly forbidden that hybrid relationships exist between the two. but for jungkook, bending the rules is just as much fun as bending his women; so when the opportunity for him to break more laws occurs, it only makes sense that he hunts you down to join him on set.

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: hi, baby | by @sailoryooons​

pairing: pornstar!jungkook x pornstar!freader

genre(s)&au(s): strangers to lovers, pornstar au, pwp, slow burn if you squint

summary: from the moment jungkook met you on set, he was head over heels. the only problem? you weren’t scripted as his partner for any of his sex scenes. but there would always be another chance to sleep with you - right? after months of bad luck,things going awry, and mismatched schedules, jungkook finally gets the invitation to participate in an episode of the aphrodite house where he’s asked to pick his favorite pornstar to film with. it’s his dream come true and he can’t wait to have you.

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: chatroom | by @chryblossomjjk​

pairing: nerdy-virgin!jungkook x camgirl!reader

genre(s)&au(s): smut, a lil fluff and humor, strangers-to-lovers

summary: absolutely ravenous and sexually frustrated, jungkook decides to join a chatroom.

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: best lover | by @joonberriess

pairing: stalker!jungkook x stalker-cam!girl

genre(s)&au(s): yandere, smut, angst

summary: a devoted fan leaves you in confusion and terror when he starts appearing outside of your streams. but whoever said you were innocent too?

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: ambivalence | by @mercurygguk​

pairing: pornstar!jungkook x pornstar!fem reader

genre(s)&au(s): enemies to lovers au, pornstar au, angst/smut, tiny bits of fluff

summary: you and jungkook used to be a thing before your careers took off but it ended badly, the result being hatred for one another. now, the universe is sick and twisted in all sorts of fucked up ways and brings the two of you back into each other’s lives; on the set for a porn video.

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: tired of pretending | by @gimmethatagustd​

pairing: musician!jungkook x ghostwriter(f)!reader

genre(s)&au(s): non-idol musician, coworkers to lovers, slowburn, smut, fluff, angst

summary: jungkook is known for his sensual pop songs that profess a love so deep fans regularly speculate who might be the recipient of his affection. outsiders don’t know that you’re the one writing his songs as his ghostwriter. while jungkook gains fame and fortune by unknowingly singing love songs written about your love for him, you feel yourself growing even more invisible.

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: industry baby | by @joonberriess

pairing: solo-artist!jungkook x prissy-brat!reader

genre(s)&au(s): enemies w/benefits au, smut, small amounts of angst

summary: solo artist jeon jungkook has always been one for controversy despite being one of the best out there. his notoriety for drinking, partying, and breaking hearts reaches a all time high when he drops a diss track, however not just aiming for the industry, but for you too. you don't know what's worse, him revealing that you fuck on the low or him calling you the "industry's baby".

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: rolling stone | by @kooktrash​

pairing: idol!jungkook x non idol!reader

genre(s)&au(s): idol au, friends-w-benefits, smut, angst

summary: he was a rolling stone with no ties to anyone or any place and that’s how he and his fans liked it. now he’s found you and it’s never been this hard to convince someone that he’ll stay.

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: happily ever after | by @kookingtae​

pairing: shy!jungkook x freader

genre(s)&au(s): reality dating show au, angst, smut, fluff

summary: previously on a reality dating show, you had brushed off fellow contestant jungkook’s crush on you in favor of the exciting, toxic fling you had with taehyung. but now that the cameras have stopped rolling and you’re back to spending everyday life with the boy you friendzoned on national television, you’re faced with the realization that maybe you made a mistake. maybe reality tv isn’t reality at all.

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: a case of you | by @jeonqkooks

pairing: actor!jungkook x actress!reader

genre(s)&au(s): enemies-to-lovers, slight fluff, angst, slight smut

summary: jeon jungkook is the show business’ golden boy ever since he rose to fame seven years ago. with a face sculpted by the gods, as well as oozing charisma and talent, it’s no surprise that he turns heads and steals hearts wherever he goes. but underneath that facade of the perfect man whom everyone adores and the highly acclaimed actor that every casting director wants to book, there are hushed whispers left and right that jungkook is a nightmare to work with. as the actress starring alongside jungkook in his upcoming drama, you have a front row seat to see if he’ll prove the rumors false, or if he’ll make the biggest project of your career go up in flames.

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: love spilled canvas | by @caelesjjk​

pairing: painter!jungkook x actress!freader

genre(s)&au(s): friends to lovers, angst, romance, smut

summary: fame isn’t everything it’s made out to be. the pressure to be perfect. the highest of expectations weighing on your shoulders, it all becomes too much to bear. when it all comes crashing down, you seek out the person who has always felt like home and take up refuge in his gorgeous apartment that’s more than far enough away from your movie star life. jungkook is a painter. the most talented one that you know. but what you don’t know, is that he’s been in love with you for years. so of course he lets you stay with him for as long as you need. but when he finally lands an exhibit at a very high end gallery after you’ve gone back home, the last person he expects to see walk in is you.

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: sticky situationship | by @rkivian​

pairing: tv host!jungkook x reader

genre(s)&au(s): fluff, crime au, crack, smut, great pretender au, the ugly truth au

summary: it isn’t lost on you, your local, hot shot tv host trying to distract you from the fact that he isn’t who everyone thinks he is, because he’s doing quite a terrible job. but… you might as well take advantage of it.

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: not like the movies | by @here4btsfics​

pairing: screenwriter!jungkook x reader

genre(s)&au(s): enemies-to-lovers, angst, smut, fluff

summary: the biggest mistake you ever made was in college when you hooked up with the one and only jeon jungkook at a graduation party. you two had hated one another since high school when he betrayed you, and sleeping with him was a moment of weakness. fast forward five years later, you’re a successful screenwriter, mainly for romcoms, and you just got an amazing opportunity to help write for a movie for a major production company. the only problem? jungkook was signed onto the project as well and you two have to work together without killing one another in the process.

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: PR disaster | by @ughcore​

pairing: actor!jungkook x publicist!reader

genre(s)&au(s): enemies to lovers, smut, comedy

summary: after a slow year in the business, you unexpectedly find yourself employed by Hit Ent, tasked with the unfortunate role of taming infamous rake jeon jungkook in preparation for a movie role that could make his career. with the intention of cleaning up his image, you aim to find him a respectable fake girlfriend, hardly expecting to find the task a whole lot more challenging than it seems - especially when you get to know the guy behind the headlines…

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

hosted by: @jeonjcngkook​ & @mercurygguk | collab theme by: @mercurygguk​

[mariacallous]

People often say to me that I wouldn’t personally be affected by a second Donald Trump presidency. After all, I live in a blue city in a blue state, and I’m a married, heterosexual woman who isn’t looking to have any more children. I won’t need medication like mifepristone for a miscarriage (though I do have girls in my family who I assume will someday want to have children), and I don’t personally rely on the federal government for education, because my kids don’t go to public school.

So, again, how would any of this affect me? The most likely answer is that, as a public-facing person, I will continue to be subjected to threats, as many in the mainstream media already are. But attacks on the media could escalate if Trump returns to power, given that he doesn’t hesitate to demonize journalists and call them out before his millions of followers. And given what Trump says on television, he may target American citizens for unfavorable speech.

“I think the bigger problem is the enemy from within,” he told Maria Bartiromo on Fox News on Sunday. “Sick people, radical-left lunatics. And it should be very easily handled by, if necessary, by the National Guard, or, if really necessary, by the military.” The “lunatics” in question could be anyone from protesters to opinion columnists—or even mainstream reporters—he doesn’t agree with. Trump has referred to CBS as a “A FAKE NEWS SCAM” whose operations are “totally illegal,” and has similarly suggested that ABC should lose its broadcast license. 

What would it mean to have a president who, in this fashion, targets what little is left of the free press? It’s hard to fathom, but there’s a world where Trump imitates his strongman friends like Vladimir Putin or Viktor Orbán or Kim Jong Un—all of whom participate in jailing or killing journalists in countries with state-regulated media. He’s already taking a page from Joe McCarthy this election cycle in targeting the “enemies within,” something my family is all too familiar with.

Few aspects of Trump’s second-terms plans are more openly authoritarian than his immigration platform. On Friday, Trump traveled to Aurora, a suburb of Denver, Colorado, where he is shopping “Operation Aurora,” a policy he said would target “every illegal migrant criminal network operating on American soil” by use of the Alien Enemies Act of 1798. According to the Brennan Center, the law is “a wartime authority that allows the president to detain or deport the natives and citizens of an enemy nation. The law permits the president to target these immigrants without a hearing and based only on their country of birth or citizenship.” The last time the United States used the Alien Enemies Act, it was to put Japanese and Japanese Americans into internment camps during WWII.

What would internment camps actually entail in the modern day? Well, Trump has talked about deporting up to 20 million undocumented immigrants—an operation of staggering scale that he freely admits will be “bloody.” (The Department of Homeland Security, in 2018, estimated there were 11.4 million undocumented immigrants; Pew put the number at roughly 11 million in 2022.) It’s impossible to imagine what deporting that many people would really look like; maybe blue-state governors would be strong enough to prevent deportation camps from being built in states like California and New York. Maybe the camps would only be in red states, or maybe they’d be erected on federal land, like national parks. Then there’s the question of who would run these camps. Trump, for his part, has mused about using the National Guard. Who would stop any of this, you might ask? Would a Republican Congress stop it? Who would be the grown-ups in the room.

At least during the first Trump administration, the courts prevented Trump from doing some of the things he wanted to do, like ending DACA. But this time, Trump would be starting out with a 6-3 conservative-majority Supreme Court, featuring three justices he appointed. Last year, we saw the Trump-friendly high court issue two rulings that will pretty much serve as a blank check to an emboldened Trump: The first ended the Chevron deference, which will curb the power of federal agencies and expedite the death of regulatory expertise. The other decision, which is perhaps more worrying, Trump would have a blank check to do whatever he wants if he says it’s in the service of the presidency, essentially granting him blanket immunity against any crimes he commits in office. As Ninth Circuit judge and Ronald Reagan appointee Stephen S. Trott wrote, it means that Richard Nixon could have “legally ordered his plumbers to burgle the office of Daniel Ellsberg’s psychiatrist.”

Trump is telling us all about his potential plans: internment camps, going after his enemies foreign and domestic, including, presumably, journalists. Will I be one of them? Will he clamp down on the free press? Will he take away the licenses from networks he deems insufficiently supportive of his presidency?

On the campaign trail, Trump has recently posed a question of his own when it comes to voting for him, asking the crowd, “What the hell do you have to lose?” Actually, a lot. While we don’t know precisely what a second Trump term will look like, it’ll surely be chaotic and bleak, and could mark the end of something we certainly don’t want to lose: democracy as we know it.

[leidensygdom]

So, one of the thoughts I've been having about AI of late (and the people defending them) is the people who try to defend it from an anti-capitalist, anti-copyright perspective. I can understand that there are AI bros that just like the convenience of cheap art (or even to run AI mills of any kind) and that they're being inflammatory or seeking to make a quick buck (and I hate them for it), but the perspective of "I'm defending AI from a communist perspective" it's truly the one that baffles me.

Like, let's be real. Who is pushing for it? Why is every large tech giant desperate to normalize it? Why are they trying to put it on every single thing you own? Why are they trying so bad to make the investment worth it? genAI is here because really rich people want it. Because it benefits companies. Because it's already been used to bypass any already ridiculous data protection the average person had, and data equals money to them, as they can use it to make increasingly more weaponized advertising. Instagram has been using it to generate images of people without their consent. Will ads simply include your face using their product? Who knows! But this is a massive concern for data privacy (and for consent)

People try to talk about artists who oppose AI as "entitled", "the biggest fans of IP law" and "acting as temporarily embarassed burgeoise who wants to ascend class through their art". The large majority of artists are already struggling to make ends meet as it is. Very few of the people you'll see complain online are doing much, if at all, through art. That one furry artist whose work you love who covers kinks and genders that the mainstream would not understand in 7 more decades isn't someone aspiring to be part of the upper class through they art. They literally just want to make a living.

Quite a large portion of internet artists are people who either make art that wouldn't fit the mainstream for different reasons (too subversive, too unique, too inflammatory, whatever), are disabled/ND people who have very limited options to make a living, or part of marginalized groups that have issues finding more standard jobs in bigger companies. Or several of these at the same time. These people aren't the evil capitalists you want them to be for trying to defend their work (and their livings).

Maybe, if AI existed in a world where everyone had an Universal Basic Income and their worth and chances of living were independent from their ability to commercialize their art, a lot of artists would care far less for it, or copyright, or anything. But it does not exist in a vacuum. The ones who are more staunchly vouching for AI are the actual big corporations that a lot of the people criticizing IP/copyright are usually opposed to. Can we talk about the way these corporations want to use AI to control social media? To standardize misinformation? How you can't generate a lot of things with it due to extreme sanitization? How it will tell you biased information as facts, knowing you won't fact check? How the use of genAI, ChatGPT and so is directly hurting people's ability to fact-check and have critical thinking? Maybe that's the most pressing issue, and the reason AI is being pushed as hard as it is.

Are the people who are at higher risk of losing their jobs to AI going to get compensated? Once companies start culling translators, customer service workers, videogame devs, writers and artists, VAs, and everything else they can replace, will they receive any compensation? No? Then maybe stand the ground with your fellow workers and hear their complaints about AI. Again, it does not exist in a vacuum, and as long as it doesn't, it will hurt a lot of people as companies seek to save up few cents.

But no, let's pretend that opposing AI is always made because every artist on the Internet is sitting comically massive piles of money they made drawing socially unacceptable queer art that gets them banned every other month from sites.

[kteezy997]

the director’s daughter-part four//t.c.

I’m having a bad day. My depression has been bad the last couple of weeks or so. This chapter is shorter than previous ones, but I wanted to put out something for you all to enjoy💕

Warnings: suspicious friends, slight angst, cursing, kissing, making out, beginnings of smut

The next day, y/n sat next to Timothée at breakfast. Florence had lovingly served up the hot morning meal with coffee and assorted juices. Of course, it smelled divine and everyone started to eat immediately.

Colleen announced that she thought it might be fun to have a BBQ at her home with all of the cast members and her daughter, obviously, and invite some other crew members. A little party to celebrate the kick off of the movie production.

Everybody agreed in a near unison, nodding their heads as they sipped their drinks and munched on their breakfast.

Y/n finished her plate, and sat silently as she glanced at Timmy periodically while pretending to listen to the table conversation. She thought he looked so cute, his bed head still evident, the heavy bags under his eyes from tiredness. It was such an innocent contrast to the events of the night before.

“So where were you two last night? We didn’t see either of you at all.” Zendaya asked eyeing up both y/n and Timothée.

Y/n looked at Z and Timothée swallowed hard.

He quickly cleared his throat, “Oh, I had a bad headache so I didn’t really feel like going out to see the fireworks.”

“Hmm.” Zendaya nodded, then looked at y/n, “And I suppose you went out with your friends as you had planned?”

She nodded, “Yes, I did.”

“Babe,” chuckled Tom as he touched his girlfriend’s hand, “are you their mother or something? Let them live.”

“No, I’m not mothering, I just thought it was a little funny because I’m pretty sure her car was here all night.” Z shrugged.

“Well, my friends actually picked me up.” y/n chimed, “And dropped me off early this morning.”

“Okay. That makes sense.” Zendaya seemed satisfied with the answer, but y/n couldn’t help but wonder why she was acting so suspicious.

“Wow, Zendaya’s a better mother than I am these days.” Colleen joked to lighten up the mood.

……

It was a good day, but it ran into evening and y/n was ready for everyone to leave so it would just be the housemates. She was mostly missing Timmy. With the filming schedule and having so many others in the house, they hadn’t been alone in a week. And this morning he didn’t even look at her at breakfast. She hoped he wasn’t losing interest in her.

Florence had suggested going for a dip in the hot tub to end the evening. She had brought a date that she met at the farmers market earlier that day, Shane, or Shawn, no one could remember which his name was.

Y/n went inside and up to her room to change into her bathing suit. Timmy followed her upstairs, not saying a word. She felt discouraged when he remained quiet and went to his own room. Maybe he was forgetting about her. She wanted the fling to continue, and maybe eventually turn into something more. Perhaps it was silly of her to think that could happen. She was still in college and he was a mainstream movie star pushing thirty.

She opted for a black one piece swimsuit that cut high up on her thighs. The square neckline also held her boobs up nicely. Maybe Timmy would notice.

She hurried along in an attempt to catch Timmy before he walked back downstairs to the jacuzzi. She opened the door and he was walking down the hallway, “Timmy, wait!” she called out to him.

He stopped and turned, raising a brow at her, “What do you mean? We’re getting in the hot tub.”

“I know.” she said, hustling over to him. She stopped, smiling softly as she put her hands in his hair and pulled him into a kiss.

He was surprised at first, but then kissed her back, holding her close by pressing his hand to her lower back. “Mm.” he hummed against her lips blissfully. “What was that for?” he asked with a tiny grin when she pulled away.

“Just checking.” she said, smirking back at him.

“What, just checking to see if I’m still into you? Because I am, Bunny.”

“Well, it hasn’t seemed like it this past week.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve just been busy, and I wasn’t sure if you were still in to me. I thought maybe you’d think I’m too old for you-"

“I thought that you’d think I’m too young for you. Like you could find someone your age who’s prettier and more experienced, maybe.”

“No, I’m sorry if I’ve been misleading. I definitely want you, y/n.” he smiled, then bit his lip.

She grinned like a schoolgirl, saying, “Fuck, I’m so lucky.” She pulled him into another kiss, a harder one, putting a firm hold onto the back of his head. She wove her fingers into the soft curls just for a moment. Pulling away, she quipped, “We should get out there before Flo comes to find us.”

Timothée chuckled, “Oh you know she will.”

They took each other’s hand, him leading the way downstairs, “Let’s keep it between us, just for a little while longer, yeah?” he asked, looking at her. “I mean, I’m sure everyone in the house might have their suspicions, but let’s not give in to them until we have to.”

“Sure. Let’s keep it close as long as we can.” she smiled, giving his hand a squeeze before they parted on the back patio.

“Fucking finally!” Florence exclaimed, seeing them both come down. She was in the hot tub with her date. “It’s about time you two showed up.” She gave the pair each a cheeky grin.

Some time went by, the four adults enjoyed the jacuzzi and the calm summer night, sipping their drinks and making light conversation about the film.

Things shifted, however, and Florence started kissing Shawn.

Y/n and Timothée kept to themselves, trying not to stare. But the other couple started making out more heavily and touching each other. The mood was entirely different from how it started out.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @lixzey @bitchyunknownuser @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @elloise0 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @mel-vaz @sammy-halpert @iwishchalamet @that-one-fangirl69 @jindongdongie @briefkittenearthquake @imnotoverlyobsessive

[incorrectmahabharatquotes]

i love the incorrect quotes, but i dont agree with your political views. if its not much, could you explain why ur so anti bjp?(thats what i assume anyway)

You know, I actually think that the memes and the quotes are sort of a natural extension of our political views. I'll explain but it might get a little long. Stay with me here.

Firstly, I want to say that I think this way of perceiving politics is so fundamentally wrong.

"Anti-BJP", "Pro-BJP", "Anti-Congress", "pro-congress" etc etc. This isn't a cricket match where you're rooting for your favourite team. Politicians, as a general rule, are a bunch of liars. They lie to gain power and control. It's OUR duty, as CITIZENS, to keep them accountable and in their lane so they actually do their goddamn jobs. That's how the democracy is supposed to work. If they don't do their job properly, you vote them out of the seat. They work for us, and not the other way around.

In India, we grow up with this idea of not questioning your elders. Papa ne keh diya, bas keh diya. As children our natural instinct of curiosity and inquisitiveness is stifled. We go to schools and the same pattern follows. Don't question the authority. Keep your head down and colour inside the lines. We internalise this lesson to colossal degrees. Is it any wonder that we all struggle with critical thinking? If you're spoonfed "the correct answer" your entire life, you never learn to find if what you were told is correct or not. This exact thing is used by all politicians across the entire political spectrum. They use our learned behaviour of deferring to authority and never questioning power against us. The leader of the country becomes the patriarch. Papa ne keh diya, bas keh diya.

I have various issues with various political parties in India, in fact. I have no love lost for any of them. I don't exactly believe in unconditional loyalty to politicians.

Since you brought up the BJP, let's talk about that. My biggest issue with them is their politics of communal hatred. All they keep yapping about is hindu-muslim this and hindu-muslim that. For what? They could spend their time talking about actual issues but the low-hanging fruit of stoking communal hatred is easier to grab onto. Remember when the British did the same thing? It was bad then and it's bad now. All this unrest just to get votes. Imagine fucking up the mind of an entire nation like this and then demanding to be praised for it.

Their foundational roots are from the RSS and that entire organisation's existence is just insane to me. It's even more insane that they managed to go from a fringe ideology to becoming mainstream. "Hindu rashtra", it seems. Who even wants that? WHY do they want that? Is it such a bad fate to live in peace and harmony with other religions? A lot of their talking points are about how much they hate the islamic nations and how those are horrible and then they want to turn around and do the same thing?!? Is the hypocrisy not clear? So what if other countries are religious states? Why can't we try to be different? Maybe I'M the stupid one for thinking all humans are the same that we should treat everyone the same. Who knows.

There are also a bunch of other issues that the BJP has racked up during their rule. The demonetisation disaster, mismanagement of government funds to create public infrastructure, letting the interests of billionaire business ruin PROTECTED FOREST AREAS for mining coal that they didn't even need, introducing and passing HORRIBLE bills through the parliament without any thought or discussion, literally ignoring the plight of people dying in riots, CORRUPTION, destroying the public sector and letting for-profit capitalists free reign in a country which has practically no proper labour laws, aiding in creating a historical record of INCOME INEQUALITY that is higher than it was during the fucking colonial era, fucking up the press even more somehow to the point where they control all of the media houses.

This is not even scratching the surface. I could keep going.

My issue is not whether people vote for the BJP or not. Even if you like the BJP, my issue is that people seem willing to turn a blind eye to all the issues with the government and not even hold them accountable for it.

Vote for whoever you want. My only request is to keep your government accountable. Keep the power in check. The politicians should be SCARED of the citizens fury if they do something wrong. They shouldn't be free to do whatever and get off scot free.

That's our political stance, really. It's Pro-Exercise-Your-Democratic-Rights-As-Citizen.

We will always encourage others to be wary of people with too much power.

Now coming back to why I said the memes reflect our political stance, it's because it's obvious to see why we happen to be willing to risk being a little critical of a literary text. You have to be a little transgressive, in a sense. Perfect obedience and perfect reverence stifles people from engaging with something to their full potential.

I'm sorry to say that if you enjoy the memes and the quotes, you are also being a little transgressive like us. You're also questioning the authority of a religion to an extent. Perhaps our political leanings aren't as different as you might believe.

-Mod S

[roseamongroses]

ur heart beat next to mine

Pairing: Shuri/ Riri Williams Tags: Alternate Universe - Social Media, Established Relationship, Influencer Shuri, Long-distance Relationship, Suggestive Content. V much fade to black, Shuri being Clingy, Insecure Riri Williams, Corniness, fandom typical comments, Slice of Life, Talking about Intimacy Summary: Riri Williams loves her girlfriend a lot. She isn't the only one. OR Shuri takes a break from her duties to spend time with Riri. Riri admits some difficult truths. - words: 4,975 ao3

Riri sees her a lot.

A fluttering dress on T.V, a measured gaze over sunglasses in the papers, a cheeky smile in interviews. The Princess of Wakanda was one of the most prolific figures of her generation--developing mainstream appeal due to her internationally acclaimed diplomacy, S.T.E.M outreach programs, and an incredibly active social media presence.

There were a lot of reasons to be drawn to Shuri. It was hard to look away. Which is why moments like these made Riri a little light-headed with disbelief. When there were no lights, cameras, press, or prying eyes--she had Shuri all to herself.

Shuri quietly stepped into the dimly lit dorm room, attention falling onto Riri without fail.

Riri didn’t immediately look up, silencing her group chat notifications before continuing to read the request a client had sent.

Shuri waited, not minding, but she wasn’t shy about what she wanted. Her stare held a weary sort of intelligence that had no urgency or shame. She carefully slipped off her shoes and set aside her bags, fingers deftly unbuttoning her dress and throwing on the oversized shirt she had worn the night before.

So quiet.

A softly shifting shadow that slipped under the covers beside her like a sigh. Dangerously close, Shuri pressed closer, arms settling around Riri. Her hands smoothing the curve of her hip, tracing light, scant circles into the skin, causing her too-big briefs to slip down ever so slightly.

Shallow breaths warmed the nape of Riri’s neck. Nerves building, making her stupid quiet with anticipation.

“...Riri?”

“Mm?” Riri swallowed, eyes fixated on her phone, but she couldn’t read a damn thing now.

The bed creaked, “You’re so cruel,” Shuri said, tickling the crook of her neck, “How long are you going to ignore me?”

“Psh-am I ignoring you?” Riri asked. She set down her phone, reaching back to cup their face, “Maybe you should fix tha-”

Riri made an embarrassing sound, low and needy.

Shuri’s mouth pressed into hers, warm, drinking her indulgently as she rolled Riri onto her back, crowding her face—her body—her everything. All thoughts of work slipped away, pressure dizzying. Riri gripped their shirt, other hand wandering to the shaved sides of their head and sweeping the dip of her cheek.

Then all at once, Shuri pulled away.

At a loss, Riri’s legs hooked around Shuri’s waist, keeping her in place “Princess,” she grumbled, with a narrowed look, “Where are you going?”

Shuri laughed breathlessly, “I wanted to see your face,” she admits, pressing their foreheads together until she could count their eyelashes. Her weight on top of Riri comforting, “I’m not going anywhere,” she promised.

Riri eyed her disbelieving.

There wouldn’t be a time Shuri would be unneeded. She was one of a kind.

“Until they call you again,” Riri added bitterly, legs tightening around them, warily glancing around, “How did you even get back so soon? Should I expect visitors?”

“They wouldn’t dare,” Shuri said, thumb brushing the underside of their swollen lips, “I cleared my schedule.”

Riri blinked, pleasantly surprised, “A weekend off will be good-”

“For the month,” Shuri corrected.

“...What?”

“I planned to take more time off, but M’Baku needs assistance with upcoming negotiations and…You’re making a face,”

“I’m not making a face,” Riri lies, looking off, “It's…are you injured?”

“No, I wanted to spend time with you- You think I’d only take a break if I’m injured? ” Shuri asked, mildly offended. She sat up, taking her along. A clinging Riri settled in her lap as she spoke, “Am I that neglectful?”

Anything but.

“You’re the People’s Princess,” Riri murmured into their shoulder, not meeting their gaze, “I’m used to sharing.”

Shuri rocked her gently in her arms, “You could stand to be more greedy,” she said, nipping her ear, “The people can wait, I miss my girlfriend.”

Riri couldn’t help the bubbling laugh that escaped her, preening at the attention as they peppered her face with kisses.

“Meetings all day, everyday,” Shuri mouthed their complaints hot into her skin, “Nonsense speaking politicians and nosy poachers. Every time they say something stupid, I turn around and expect to see you there,”

Riri’s laughs quieted, breathy gasps filling the room instead.

“I missed you—your laugh, your face, your—“

Riri distantly wondered as she was being taken apart--a sickening fondness settling between her ribs and heating her core-- if her heart could survive a month of undivided attention.

. . .

/…100+ Unread Messages…/

shuris_right_ear_lobe: @biblicallyaccuratedoris WHAT NO

XxprettyprincessxX: She really said that???And left????Wtf????

bubbleassbish: chill. she def sent it before she finished typing

bubbleassbish: prolly being disgusting with her gf rn smh

shuris_left _ear_lobe: @shuris_right_ear_lobe Speaking of being disgusting ;)

shuris_right_ear_lobe: OMG BABE <333

shuris_right_ear_lobe: <333

XxprettyprincessxX:Nasssttty

bubbleassbish: ugh couples

shuris_right_ear_lobe: someeoneeessss jelly

bubbleassbish: damn right I am

biblicallyaccuratedoris: y’all loud as fuck

shuris_right_ear_lobe: YOU’RE LEAVING THE GC???

biblicallyaccuratedoris: when did I say that?

bubbleassbish: [Zoomed in Screenshot of Group Chat]

biblicallyaccuratedoris: ohhhhh yeah I meant I’m not going to be as active

bubbleassbish: why did u type it in the most omninous way possible

biblicallyaccuratedoris: idk I g

bubbleassbish: damn the gf got her again

XxprettyprincessxX: When Will It Be My Turn

. . .

Seeing the barrage of messages, Riri silenced her phone again. She slurped on her slushie obnoxiously, hand reaching out to link pinkies with Shuri once they returned with the tickets.

Shuri adjusted their face-mask as they approached the booth. They handed over their tickets, accepting the stubs and following the directions down the hall to find the screening.

“Do you think she recognized me?” Shuri asked as soon as they turned the corner, glancing back with mild concern, “Maybe I should’ve rented us a theater?”

Riri non-too discretely peeked back around the corner before returning to her girlfriends side. She caught how, the woman nervously looked around as typed on her phone, bright red, ”Shit if I know,” she said, lips quirking, “She might ask for your number though.”

“She can’t even see my face?” Shuri’s face scrunched, baffled.

“People are into that, “ Riri snickered, mouth running, “Adds to the thrill and all. I know I—" she clamped her mouth shut, mind screeching to a halt.

“You what?” Shuri asked as she propped open the door for them, head tilted ever so slightly in question—a far more determined glint in their eye.

She was curious— which was dangerous for Riri’s heart because she knew how much Shuri liked to play with her food.

Riri chewed on her straw, pointedly ignoring the question as she ducked into the darkening theater. She was thankful that their chronic lateness allowed her to escape further questioning for now—the title screen playing just as they settled into their seats.

However, she wasn’t stupid enough to believe Shuri would drop it. She was thinking hella loud. Everytime Riri turned her head, she could see them staring at her—turning her words over in their mind, picking it apart, and putting it back together.

Riri tried to keep her eyes on the movie, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of watching her squirm. By the time the movie had wrapped up, she had completely forgotten that earlier conversation.

Knuckles deep into her third bag of overpriced candy, she lived in a glorious reality where her girlfriend wasn’t a menace.

It was too good to be true.

Riri shivered as they stepped outside, grateful as Shuri wrapped an arm around her, tucking her close as they walked to her car.

“I can’t believe it ended like that,” Riri said, yawning as she unhooked her keys from her pants, “That’s like the fiftieth series ending plot-twist they’ve pulled and they’re already filming the next one—“

Shuri peered down at her, a strange look on her face that Riri couldn’t pinpoint, “Can I ask you a question?”

“You just did,” Riri snorted, unlocking her car.

“Do you fantasize about me fucking you while wearing the Black Panther mask?” Shuri asked, casually. As if remarking on the weather or the traffic.

Riri choked on her candy, “-the fuck?” she sputtered, “Where did you even—No—no, I—“

She did not fantasize. She thought about it. Once. Or twice. And most of the time it wasn't even about the mask, it was about the claws. Nothing too wild, goddamn it.

“The other way around then?”

Riri removed their arm, swinging open the door to the driver's seat as she flipped them off.

Shuri slid into the passengers seat, shit-eating grin taking up far too much space, “You’re embarrassed,” she commented, only becoming more smug at Riri’s stone-faced silence, “I was right then,” she continued, pulling her seat belt on, “Then again, I’m always right-“

This—ugh.

“—You,” Riri’s jaw was screwed up tight as she started the car, throwing an arm around the back of their seat as she pulled out of the parking spot, “Are insufferable,” she said through gritted teeth.

Shuri threw their head back and laughed. . . .

XxprettyprincessxX: [Screenshot of a Tweet. ID: An blurry picture of Shuri from the back, carefully cropped.Above the attached image, the poster commented a series of purple and gold hearts. END ID.]

XxprettyprincessxX: Is anybody gonna say it?

. . .

Riri did a double take, turning her brightness down immediately as she scanned the messages and then went to investigate the thread.

Sne opened that god-forsaken, ugly-ass app, annoyance only rising as she read the replies.

At the noise, Shuri lifted their head up, still crouched on the floor fussing over their piles of carefully sorted legos. She listened idly to her girlfriend's string of curses before shrugging it off.

. . .

shuris_right_ear_lobe: wait Wait WAIT wifey spotting???

shuris_left _ear_lobe: Okay, ouch.

shuris_right_ear_lobe: Are you not drawing Shuri rn babe???

shuris_left _ear_lobe: Fair

bubbleassbish: wha

bubbleassbish: oh wow not the stalker pics

bubbleassbish: still fine tho

XxprettyprincessxX: Apparently OP works at a theatre and spotted her

bubbleassbish: me when i wanna lose my job

Shuris_right_ear_lobe: OP could've just asked for a picture tbh. but i doubt she'd be allowed to post since wakanda never lets us see her nowadays

shuris_left _ear_lobe: Wakanda needs be more worried about protecting whoever she’s dating.

bubbleassbish: tf u mean dating?????

shuris_left _ear_lobe: Y’all ain’t read the thread?

shuris_right_ear_lobe: “she got a fresh braids AND is wearing ugly ass sweats?? that is a taken woman y’all” tf kind of sleuthing is this

bubbleassbish: bitches can’t be comfortable nowadays?

XxprettyprincessxX: idk they do have a point...Shuri stays in her lil matching athleisure sets. We've never seen her in sweats fr until now.

bubbleassbish: damn they figured out she was wearing an MIT sweatshirt from that blurry ass pic???

bubbleassbish: they’re harassing op to confirm if she was with someone

. . .

Riri let out a long, drawn out groan rolling over to grab her laptop and sitting up, blankets pooling around her hips.

Only then did Shuri’s head pop back u. She cranned her neck to see the screen, “What’s wrong?”

Riri absentmindedly pushed them away by their nose, “Client’s bitching about his paper,” which— not entirely a lie. A notification from one of her repeat offenders popped up the second she signed in.

Shuri’s nose curled at that, “You work so hard to struggle in this lifetime,” she muttered, propping up her arms as she rested her chin on the bed, watching them type away, “Surely there are richer, quieter white boys to entertain,”

“Ugh, don’t say it like that,” Riri gagged at the thought.

“You could let me talk to them, I’ll be nice,” Shuri offered, a twinkle in her eyes, “Or better yet, let me pay off a bill or two. “

“What? No—“ Riri refused to endure any more sugar-baby jokes from her sister.

“It can be a small bill?” Shuri teased, forehead pressing into her thigh.

“Not until we’re married—“ Riri said, offhandedly, then immediately realized, “Wait-”

“Spring or Summer?”

“I-“ Riri’s brain was a kind of fried, split between the shit storm on her lap-top, her girlfriend's big brown eyes, and the realization that Shuri would want that level of commitment.

It made sense. They weren’t exactly casual in any way. But, hearing confirmation of it was—

At the prolonged silence, those previously mentioned big brown eyes genuinely asked, “Do you not want to get married?”

Riri swallowed the intense swelling of disgusting feelings, hand reaching out and cupping the back of their head, “After I get my Doctorates,” she promised.

Shuri’s eyes closed, content as Riri scratched the shaved sides of her scalp lightly. The sounds of typing resumed, albeit a bit slower than before.

. . .

bubbleassbish:shit the post got nuked

XxprettyprincessxX: OP’s entire account? It's gone???

shuris_right_ear_lobe: anyone else's app bugging??? I can’t even log in no more???

biblicallyaccuratedoris:oh wow that’s wild

. . .

Warm light caught the soft curve of Shuri’s shoulders as she against the kitchen counter, sending the camera a smile.

“Good morning everyone!” Shuri greeted, watching the live chat fly by, “Contrary to popular belief, I have not transitioned—“

LIVE CHAT ^

babbyBuns02: God give me one chance

funnylookinsteve: wdym u just woke up???skin tut plz

jessmarie22: <333

Puffitpolly: BABE WEVE MISSED YOU

. . .

shuris_right_ear_lobe: OMG SHEES BACCCK

XxprettyprincessxX:Holy Shit She's Glowing

bubbleassbish: making bread at the top of the morning is so random lol

. . .

Shuri kneaded the dough, squinting as she read and answered the comments, politely skipping over the more…questionable ones.

beetleez: Do you have a favorite recipe to make?

“To be honest, I haven’t baked before today, so I don’t have a favorite yet. I was feeling motivated and wanted to give it a try while I had time,” she accidentally smeared flour on her cheek as she puzzled over the recipe scribbled on a post-it note, “It’s not any different from chemistry so it cannot be too difficult...”

raggedy_kam:are u ever going to release your skin care routine???

“Routine? I was born perfect, I don’t need any of that,” Shuri snickered to herself quite amused, before honestly listing off her routine.

GracieLynn03: Did you really get that account taken down for posting those pictures of you at the theater ?

Shuri’s eyebrows furrowed as she wiped off her hands, squinting at the phone, “What pictures…?” she trailed off, eyes drifting from the camera and intensely following something off-screen.

Dishes clinked in the kitchen, a coffee machine starting up in the background.

“Uh- I’m unaware of any pictures that were posted, but all media concerning my image is strictly monitored—“ Shuri explained with great difficulty, “But I…”, her head tilted a bit before caught herself. She blinked hard, clearing her throat.

. . .

LIVE CHAT ^

shuris_left_earlobe: Oh?

ohOhOhriley: she can’t even hide it

lovelyamy: It feels like we’re intruding lmao

udakus_secretlovechild: shuri: im not seeing anyone, also shuri:

biancabites: I CAN BE A THIRD PLZZZ

. . .

Shuri continued to answer questions, skipping over the ones asking for more details about her partner. Every-so-often her eyes would flicker past the camera, making it clear to anyone someone else was still in the room.

Shuri held the covered bowl up, victorious, “Now to let this rise. I’ll be back in a minute,” she said, stepping out of frame.

The fridge opened then closed.

Water was running.

Dishware clinked.

Shuri stepped back into frame, now wearing glasses and most notably—lip gloss. The shine smeared across her lips and glittered on her cheeks.

The chat lost its mind.

. . .

shuris_left_earlobe: Damn she really talked us through a bread recipe

shuris_right_earlobe: https//: www. UTube.com/watch? vfhb// Nerdy stud hot n heavy bread baking asmr 5hr loop. /fakeasslink

bubbleassbish: fuck it imma redownload jamb

bibblically accuratedoris: what girl no

xXprettyprincessxX: Put The Dating Apps Awaayyyyy

. . .

Riri’s mouth was hot, slanting against hers tasting sweet of ice cream, the lingering smell of alcohol following close behind.

Feet sinking into burning sand, Shuri’s hips pressed closer, chair creaking in protest. Riri loosely held Shuri in her lap, thumbs hooked into her waistband.

Shuri was eager to make much more pleasant memories on a beach.

Hearing a faint crash, Riri reluctantly pulled away. Breathing hard, eyes fixated on Shuri’s lips, she managed to ask, “What was that—?”

Shuri didn’t let her get far, answering half-heartedly between drawn out kisses, “A bird--", she held their chin, firm, air tasting of sweat and salt, “A plane,” noses pressed close, a sweet mouth making even sweeter noises, “Who cares—“

Riri lost interest in the noise soon after.

If a bird was 30lbs a vibranium infused staff impaling a drone, Shuri wasn’t far off. She had noticed the drone’s approach 10 minutes ago. She’s surprised that they even let it get that close.

Shuri was borrowing a beach house from a friend of a friend, stealing Riri away once she was on spring-break. The house had easy access to the public beach, but was sheltered by a sturdy fence and local fauna. Combined with the added surveillance of the perimeter, it was private enough for them to fool around outside in peace.

Shuri’s hands fiddled with the ties of Riri’s bikini-top.

Riri had lost her other swim-tops, so she had settled for something her sister bought her a while ago as a joke. She’d been fidgeting with the tiny thing the minute she put it on.

Personally, Shuri didn’t bother— opting to be topless. Though she could see the charm of coaxing a bikini off her girlfriend.

The bikini-ties went slack. Shuri easily pulled it away and tossed it onto another chair.

“Satisfied?” Riri asked, glancing around. She couldn’t help, but feel a bit self-conscious.

Shuri’s eyes raked over the sight, memorizing the the already forming tan lines and new freckles dotting her skin, “Yes…” she said, “Now we match,”

Riri shivered as Shuri's hands absentmindedly wandered, brushing the underside of her boobs, following a trail of sweat up her sternum as they were lost in thought.

“Did you want the rest off too?” Riri asked. She had no idea what they had planned at this point.

Shuri hummed, glancing down at Riri’s obnoxiously colored, transformer print swim-trunks—those weren’t a joke, “No, I think they’re cute,” she said, reaching down to rummage through the beach bag, pulling out sunscreen, “You pull this look off well.”

Riri’s eyebrow, skeptical, “Topless and wearing transformer trunks?”

Shuri’s taste never failed to confuse them.

“Topless, wearing transformer shorts, and underneath me,” Shuri corrected, squirting sunscreen into her hand and snapping the bottle close.

“Ah,” Riri closed her eyes briefly as they applied the sun-screen, “The possessive streak strikes again.”

Shuri flicked their nipple, “I’m not possessive,”

Riri shooed the offending hand away, “What about the guy at the slushie stand?”

“What about him?” Shuri replied quickly with a neutral expression, dropping the sunscreen back into the bag and slinging her arms across Riri’s shoulders.

Riri wasn’t fooled.

“It looked like you broke his arm,” Riri said. She caught the slight twitch of their mouth fighting a smile.

“I didn’t,” Shuri admitted easily, “But if I did, it was deserved.”

Riri…couldn’t exactly dispute that.

The image of her girlfriend so easily ‘escorting’ a man three times her size away was impressive. She often forgot how strong Shuri actually was now since she was always so gentle. Would it fee-

She must’ve missed whatever Shuri said next because they narrowed their eyes. Shuri's arms tightened as she settled her full weight against Riri's chest, hot skin on skin, “You’re getting stuck in your head again,” she complained, “I’m right here.”

“I can see that—”

“Can you?” Shuri questioned, lowly, ”I know you are shy, but if you want something you should try asking for it,”

Riri frowned a bit, “…I’m not shy,”

“What are you thinking about then?” Shuri immediately challenged, at their silence she sighed, “I’m not going to judge you.”

Riri looked at them, unimpressed, “But you’ll laugh.”

“I might laugh,” Shuri admitted softly, “It's hard not to. You are very attractive and witty, so I get nervous, but I’m not judging you,” she repeated.

“I...make you feel nervous?”

It was hard to wrap her head around that. Even though Riri asked her out first, Shuri never hesitated at any other stage of their relationship.

Another thought occurred to her, a realization that was relatively obvious, but slipped past her so easily before. Maybe Shuri’s nerves didn’t make her hesitate at all? Maybe it—

Shuri somehow, someway pressed closer, “All the time,” she said, “Sometimes It’s embarrassing how needy I get, but I can’t help it,”, she says quietly, “If I didn’t take this break, I’d be losing my mind trying to focus.”

And that was the root of it wasn’t it? Embarrassment. An overwhelming need for so much. Those little wants building and building under the surface, hidden away. You don't ask lest you get confirmation that you’re too much, that you’ve miscalculated their love and yours and now you’re left with a heart too big for your chest.

They were a strange pair. A strangely similar pair. Working alone more often than not, but are they truly solitary in nature at this point? The longer they knew each other, the more natural it was to drift closer into each other's orbits. It left Riri with the stark awareness that she could look out into that big, scary world and its endless possibilities and know for certain that Shuri would be able to look right back at her.

That she could be seen, discovered, and picked apart.

“I…” Riri's eyebrows knitted, “I don’t know why it’s so hard to talk about sometines. I— It doesn’t make any-- ”

It was almost comically. Here she was, half naked on a beach, still tounge-tied about admitting what got her horny. And to be honest, it'd be so much easier if it was only about sex, but it wasn't. This feeling--this shame wasn't about what she was feeling, but rather who the feelings were towards. As if she was asking for far too much, like her grubby hands were ruining someone perfe-

“Ri, talk to me,” Shuri's voice dragged her back to reality, “Not whatever cooler, hotter version you’ve concocted in your head. I’m your girlfriend and I don’t want to share,” she grumbled, annoyance seeping through. Of course she’d find a way to be jealous of herself.

“…Sometimes it feels like I love you too much,” Riri managed to admit, surprising even herself, “Like I love you…more,” she winced as she continued to speak—words barely keeping up with the vomit of thoughts rushing to be heard.

It was so silly. Shuri had been wrapped around her every chance she got—this month was more then enough proof of that.

But that wasn’t everyday.

A lot of the time it was long messages, missed calls, and seeing her girlfriend everywhere—the news, social media, videos, but never at her side. Shuri was always needed, always wanted—it was hard for Riri to imagine the same being said about herself. Maybe the distance was harder then she thought. Maybe she was too greedy for her own good.

But that wasn’t fair to Shuri at all.

The world had so many opinions about her—so much love and hate, but only Riri got to see this version of her. This dork was her cooler and hotter version and it’s clear that Riri was so stuck in her head that she’d forgotten what was right in front of her. That someone was right there, waiting and wanting to understand.

They had long since migrated back inside, showering and bundling up in the cool dark of the guest room.

Shuri listened to her carefully, breath soft, a constant reminder keeping Riri firmly on the ground.

“Is it because you’ve liked me longer?” Shuri asked, rubbing circles into Riri's spine. She had been spit balling ideas for the past few minutes, trying to narrow down where this might've started.

“What..?” Riri asked, blinking back sleep as she processed the question. She was tucked under Shuri’s chin, hand wandering somewhere up their shirt.

“Y’know, the fan groups you're in?” Shuri explained, “You’ve followed me for awhile, that’s bound to influence our relationship.”

“You know about those…?” Riri looked up, mortified.

“I know about everything,” Shuri automatically replied, before truthfully adding, “You fell asleep while studying and your phone kept going off. I went to silence it and saw the notifications and... kind of put it together. You've never changed your socials so I recognized the account name from my notifications. ”

“…Did you read any of the messages?”

Shuri chuckled, pulling her closer by her hips, “Can I?”

“-No.”

Contrary to popular belief, they didn’t talk about Shuri all the time. At least nowadays they didn’t since Shuri was technically on a media break.

Regardless, Riri had to protect the integrity of the group chat.

Shuri sighed wistfully, “It’s not fair you get all the fun,” she complained, “The elders refuses to listen to me talk about how great you are—”

“And how often is that-?”

“Only when it’s relevant to the conversation,” Shuri promised.

Riri highly doubted that, but she knows Shuri would derail any meeting that could’ve been a written memo.

“Then again, there has been growing interest in Iron heart from Wakandans,” Shuri said, thinking out loud, “I’m sure a similar group already exists for you.”

It took a minute for Riri to process what Shuri had said—

“Wait what…?”

-

“Are you even watching the game?” Riri questioned. She hobbled to the couch swaddled in blankets as she sipped a nightmarish concoction of red mt. dew, red-bull, and coffee from that morning.

Shuri tossed another piece of popcorn in the air, opening her mouth only for it to hit her cheek and bounce onto the couch.

Riri snorted, sitting on the other side of the couch as she watched them try and fail again.

Officially at their limit, Shuri pushed the bowl of popcorn towards her, head falling back on the armrest.

“Don’t be a baby,” Riri scolded, tossing a piece of popcorn in the air and catching it easily in her mouth, “See, easy,” she said, word’s muffled as she shoved more popcorn in her face.

Shuri waved her off, “I’ve seen you shoot a villain's hat off from the top of Stark Tower without A.I assistance-“

“What? Like it’s hard?”

Two dark eyes squinted at her, “Must you torment me.”

“It’s kind of my job, yeah” Riri said, kicking her feet up into Shuri’s lap. She pulled a deck of cards out of her sports bra, with a twinkle in her eyes, “Wanna play a few rounds?”

Shuri sat up with faint interest as she watched them absent-mindedly shuffle the cards. Knowing her girlfriend well, she raised an eyebrow, “For?”

Riri smiled.

Shuri didn’t stand a chance.

A few hours later, Riri had crawled across the couch, kissing Shuri’s temple, “A deals a deal, babe,” she said.

“I’ve been swindled,” Shuri grumbled, accepting another kiss on her cheek, “Robbed even," she sent them a side-long glance, patiently waiting for another kiss.

Riri fought back a laugh, wrapping her arms around them, breath tickling their ear, lips skimming down the curve of their neck before blowing a raspberry against their skin.

Shuri yelped, tightening her grip around Riri’s waist and pulling her under in retaliation. Cackling, Riri scrambled to escape but she only sunk further into the couch instead, hands held at either side of her head firmly against the arm-rest.

Shuri leaned over her, relaxed, knee easing between her legs, “You think you’re so funny...”

“I know I am,” Riri said, trying to catch her breath. Curious, she attempted to lift her arms again, but couldn’t budge them at all.

It wasn’t Shuri's full strength but she could work with this.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Shuri asked, watching them attentively, not quite loosening her grip yet.

Riri exhaled, a shiver of anxiety trailing behind as she spoke.

. . .

biblicallyaccuratedorris: https://nstar/shuri_udakuoffical. com/?js/userstory

shuris_right_earlobe: OH?? MY???

shuri’s_left_earlobe: “I lost a bet to my gf, you’re welcome” THANK YOU SHURI’S GF

XxprettyprincessxX: Whew I gotta go lay down

bubbleassbish:this was in fact on my bingo card for this year

. . .

Riri flipped through the photocards appreciatively.

Shuri picked up the physical copies earlier so Riri had spread them out across her bed to admire while they finished packing. It distracted her from her usual moodiness about Shuri's departures, which she suspected was deliberate on their part.

Riri traced the glossy surface of the pictures, trying to decide on a favorite. Smudged lipstick looks good on Shuri no matter where she wore. But, she was fond of the office attire…Then again, there were the ones she had taken for her private collection, so it was difficult to choose a favorite.

Shuri watched them seriously deliberate over their winnings as she continued to fold clothes. She didn’t bother to hide the fact that she was stealing Riri’s hoodie again, sliding it into the bag as she asked, “Are you satisfied?”

“Very,” Riri looked up with a small grin, “You should lose more often,” she said, tucking the photocard of Shuri in cat ears into the back of her clear phone case.

Best part about posting the pictures-- She could carry them around without too many questions. Most of the people in the engineering department had a crush on Shuri professionally or otherwise, so it wouldn’t be odd. Shuri was more than willing to go public with her, but Riri didn’t need all of that attention right now. She had a semi-legal business to run in peace.

“When you visit you’ll have to play our games, so don’t count on it,” Shuri shot back, nose in the air, “I’m thinking…bunny ears.”

A pillow hit Shuri’s face unceremoniously.

Riri raised another pillow, aiming true, “Well, think harder cause you’re on-”

[itwasnotahamster]

- Letters from the Dead - (Part 1)

Langhus, 21 March 1990 | © The Old Nick | Source: Letters from the Dead

The brackets will indicate possible context or corrections (sometimes commentary). - 💜

"Only Black is true, only Death is real!!! Gore is trend! Hello Nick! It's Dead here again. Hey- you're really good at drawing, I use to do some drawing stuff myself. I enclose something of it in this letter. Maybe we together can work something out, maybe even in Metal Destruction…? You asked of releases, if we need some artworks for that... Well we rarely give out much and as for the next release we'll probably have some photograph instead. But if we would need something that you might feel for help us out with I'll tell of it. So what we can use drawings for is for stuff like flyers, ads and letter­pages. So far I have done the drawings for that... well the main reason of that is that we have a (old!) xerox mashine and I'm the one in the band that 'can' draw. It's not so often that I have time left to spend hours or sometimes days by making drawings and too many don't like that kind of drawings I make (but fuck them wimps!). But onto the Deathlike Silence Prod. now. The 2nd edition of the 1st release on DSP. - Merciless is out now, the one you get here as promo. We're looking for distributors everywhere and everybody who can sell 10 (or more) records will receive a copy for free + that 10 records will be cheaper. As soon as this the 2nd ed. has paid, Imperator will go in studio.

Imperators LP will contain 8-10 songs (depending on how many "old demo songs" they'll use - but it'll be new trax as well) and it'll be entitled "The time before time". After that it'll probably be the colombian Masacre as the next release. Masacre will be very soon release a 7- inches with 3 demo songs on the greek label Scene of Love. That's a new started label and I hope they can give out enough copies, not limited ed. of it. Of course we give the bands free hands and they're not bounded to use at all, but I'm thinking of the fact that Masacre is selling so much... Only in Colombia their 1st, and only demo sold 1000 copies ( which is more than our Deathcrush demo has sold worldwide...). We can only press up 1000 copies each time of every edition of DSP, and the first ed. Of Merciless sold out as fast as we could pack and post it. This second ed. we recieved [received] for not a so long time ago will depend on how much stamps we can get, of how soon it'll sell out. In Norway it's very hard to sell records - it's far away from USA or South America and I don't think any real scene exists here. Do you think you can take care of some distribution/selling of DSP releases, or you maybe know someone else who's interested? [True dedication]. I think Merciless will be very easy to sell in Italy. Many zines exists there and we recieve many letters from there also. We also sell other records (given out by various underground labels) but it can be so different of what records of others releases we sell 'cos we usually don't get so many of them, so they sell out so soon. But anyway - I can tell of what we presently have got (except of Merciless)

LP's (£10000 + postage)

Agressor/Loudblast (split LP, France) "Licenced to thrash"

Arakain (Czechoslovakia, speed metal - I do not like this one!) "Thrash the Trash"

Nomed (France)... very boring mainstream... "Like..."

Abomination (USA)

Disharmonic Orchestra/Pungent Stench (Austria, split LP)

Malicious Intent (Canada) "Shades of black"

7's (£5000 + postage)

Asphyx (Holland, Limited ed. 1000 copies) "Mutilating Process"

Atrocity (Germany) "Blue Blood"

Pungent Stench (Austria) "Extreme Deformity"

Disharmonic Orchestra (Austria) "Successive Substitution"

Do not print this in Metal Destruction, I will explain it to you, ok. If you want any of these records above, please tell of how many and of what records so I can see how much the postage will be. Now over to Mayhem. For the first time we've been in studio and recorded 2 songs (first time with this line-up I mean). It'll be released on Chicken Brain Records, a swedish kind of underground label some time in this autumn. It'll be 8-19 other (swedish) bands on it, among them Merciless. I don't know the title of this compilation LP/CD. Our songs that'll be on it are "The Freezing Moon" and "Carnage". The Freezing Moon is a new one and pretty different from our other songs, as example it's a long guitar solo on a very long Doom part on it and that's because we wanted to have a solo at only one track (of our new ones). Carnage was made in '85 (!) so it's really old. It was on the 1st demo/reh - Pure Fucking Armageddon (released in only 100 copies and not available) but with the thought of the very bad sound on it we feeled for playing it again and try to keep the original sound of it. I'll tape these trax for ya but I'm not so sure of if it'll be enclosed in this letter or if I'll put this letter togeather [together] with the Merciless record but anyhow you'll get this tape. You can record it to others if you like to but please don't trade it, and I'll record some else bands too for filling out the rest of the tape. Have you heard of the INCREADIBLY KILLING GREAT band Tormentor from Hungary? Their demo is about 4 years old but it sounds like the Death/Black metal bands of today. We try to find out if they want a deal on DSP. But unfortunately they hardly speak any English at all so it seems like neither them or us understood it... We think of releasing a full-lengtht LP of Mayhem but it seems to take a fucking longtime before we got material enough for it... The only we know about it is a title that MUST be used - De Mysteriis Dom. Sathanas. That was about all future plans I can tell of I guess. I look forward to see Metal Destruction. There's a possibility that we can sell it also, but I can't say if for sure.

About Satanism... well, I'd like to join a very underground and Illful, Evil and Grim Coven. I think you know of the hassles by finding any or getting any contact with a such. I do NOT like what's created by Anton LaVey like 1st Church of Satan. I came in contact with a dude who's a degree in the American Satans Sons - Church of Satan and he explained of it has nothing to do with LaVey at all. I asked of if it does exist in Europe also and of what it is exactly... well he didn't reply. But I heard later thet Satans Sons shall exist in Europe but I still don't know in which countries it is. In Norway it's not much of this, but in Sweden (-I am swedish) that 1st Church shall be in Stockholm (the capital there) and it shall be about 5 churches built by satanic sects, used only by satanists, mostly it's under christian churches - like the one under "Mariakyrkan" (Mary's Church) in the South of Stockholm where the 1st Church of Satan use to hang around at. I know it exists really Dark covens that use human sacrifices and are eating human flesh - them are those I try to find. I do not know much about magic and I can't say I'm a practicer of it 'cos I havn't succed. What is depending on what one can do in magic (all of its kind) is of what books one can get...those are hidden in libraries and so hard to even see... 'cos of course they don't let anyone even see them. You must be a scientist or something like if you would see the microfilms of that kind of books. A great library of many various kinds of magical arts and the Blackest of Black Arts too is the British Museum in London. But it's so damned difficult to get ones claws on those books. One book I really wanna get is De Mysteriis Dom. Sathanas, unfortunately it exists only in one copy... are you practicing any magic and do you know of any covens? Have you seen/heard/felt anything supernatural? I have but I didn't understand much of what that was and I think the most of it was only so-called echoes from the past or the future [I am curious about this]. Do you know anything about astral planes and out-of body travelling? You seem to be into it and I agree about stupid trendmakers so it is something that I feel I can tell you of. I had a weird experience once, I had inner bleedings and it couldn't be found at x-rays so when it continued to bleed and bleed I finally fainted and dropped down the floor 'cos I run out of blood. The heart had no blood left to beat and my veins/artairs were almost emptied of blood. "Tecnically" I was dead. At that moment I fell down (into a door I heard of later) I saw a strange blue colour everywhere, it was transparent so I could, for a short moment, see everything in blue, till something shining white and "hot" surrounded me. What happened later is out of interest, I woke up when some ambulance men came and drove me to a hospital and there the bastards of surgery started to cut me up at the wrong side so I got a huge scar for that. However, it's someone I know who's had many out of body experiences and is using magic of various kinds and knows much more than I do of "supernatural" experiences, that I asked of this 'cos it was so strange about those colours. She told me that the first 'plane' in the astral world has the colour blue. The "earthly" plane has the colour black, then comes a grey one that is very near the earthly one and is easy to come to. The next one further is blue, and then it gets brighter and brighter till it "stops" at a white-shining one that can't be entered by mortals. IF any mortal succee enter it, that one is no longer a mortal and can not come back to the other planes nor back to this earth. After the white plane or level or whatever it goes further with other colour I don't know of, there only spirits and great sorcerers can travel. I was told that the white plane I then entered, without I knew it, was the dead world and I died. But I also got thrown back after a short time which very rarely happens. So of what I've heard of I have some kind of purpose to achieve here."

Reached the limit for this one, I will add on!

[bambamramfan]

What If They Win

Too much has been written about the horse race of this election, but not nearly enough analysis about how either administration will govern. There's some fearmongering about Project 2025 or courtpacking, but that's propaganda not actual predictions.

(FWIW, I think Trump has this race in the bag, but can understand people who still hope think this is a coin flip.)

If Harris Wins...

Harris has held together a remarkable coalition of people against Trump. Mainstream Democratic politicians, YIMBY pundit technocrats, far lefters holding their nose, and Republican neoconservatives. This is no criticism, it's pretty impressive how they are coming together to defeat a common enemy, and I really really would like them to win.

But what happens to a coalition defined by a common enemy, after they win? Let's assume the best case scenario and she gets a Democratic Senate who confirms her cabinet and some SCOTUS judges.

Who supports Harris in the press, or is vote-corraling for her in Congress? Not those Republicans who hope to turn a page on the Trump era. Not a far left who has decided to hate her as a centrist sell out. Not moderate dems who will run away from any hint of weakness. Maybe a few of those YIMBY pundits who hope she's actually committed to more houses and nuclear power. But that's no political hyperpower.

What would her first major bill be? Who would support it? It will be just one scandal plagued administration with little support from any quarter that makes its ground breaking "first" for subaltern identities a disappointing token. The David Dinkens of the White House.

I predict that President Harris would have the lowest approval rating in her first year of any President we have polling for. It's gonna be brutal, and an easy 2028 win for Republicans (who hopefully won't be running 82 year old Trump.)

If Trump Wins...

This is the interesting one. I've heard a lot of people say that a second Trump term will be even worse than the first because he's fully unleased now and no one can stop him from doing what he really wants. And I think this is partly true.

I just don't think what he wants is "Republican authoritarian rule." Sure, he will probably let the Fed Society still pick the judges (which he never cared about besides thinking they should be loyal to him) and there will almost certainly be a tax cut/extension. But besides that?

In the first Trump term, he had VP Pence, Jeff Sessions as AG, governors like Chris Christie, and three establishment figures at State, Defense, and Treasury making a pact that if Trump fires one they all resign. It was an actual coalition of Republicans and Trumpists who need each other. Even Jared Kushner was pretty establishment friendly (he's the one who approved Pence.)

Jared and Ivanka are gone now, replaced by Eric and Donjr. The VP is a Thiel-acolyte who isn't anti-Republican but sure is "from the blogs." And the endorsers Trump touts are RFK Jr, Tulsi Gabbard, Elon Musk (while more and more mod Republicans endorse Harris.)

This isn't a Trump face over a body of Republicans - this is a Trump leader over all the fringe outsiders of American weirdo culture. I think Trump *actually does* want to appoint RFK to Secretary of Health, and indulge in every conspiracy, organic hippie, crunchy nonsense - which actually has a lot of believers across the country, but extremely little following in DC itself.

I think this will be hilarious beyond our wildest dreams of entertainment. It will not be a functional fascism - it will be closer to Jill Stein and Richard Branson and Andrew Tate. He'll try to pass laws that every kid in America needs to eat healthy and also work in a McDonalds.