#midnight club los angeles

[bowl-full-of-cheerios]

Midnight club (the game series) doesnt have a fandom...it doesnt have any fanart or fics....i'm hyperfiaxiating on something that doesnt have a fandom.....is this what suffering is like????

[astroaurastuff]

Some of my cars in Midnight Club Los Angeles because yes

Dodge Challenger Concept "DUB" Edition

Mitsubishi 3000GT

Nissan Skyline GT-R R34

Mazda RX-7

[miniz00]

What y'all think, classy or trashy?

[pinksturniolo]

Biggest Fan: Part One

Chris Sturniolo x Fem Reader

Summary: The one in which a fan gets rear ended in a car accident by none other than Christopher Sturniolo during her stay in Los Angeles.

A/N: This is my first series I will be publishing on here! There will most likely be 3 or 4 parts. I hope you like it and I’m really excited to share with you all. :)

Content Warnings: smutty smut, oral receiving/giving, penetration, slight degradation, fingering, teasing, overstimulation, swearing, brief mentions of blood, head injuries, mentions of a car accident

side note: there is no smut in this part, but it will be coming soon I promise! ;) It's pretty long because this is part of a series so I like to develop the plot and use a lot of dialogue, but I will be doing shorter stories, like one shots in the future as well! enjoy <3

word count: 3,076 😮‍💨

I was inspired by this song:

𐮙ღ✰☾✿ღ𐮙

Summer 2023

Your toes sink into the sand, the warmth of the sun beaming down on your skin, as you take a cold sip of the cheap wine cooler you bought before you came to the beach. You and two of your closest friends from college decided on a whim to take a road trip from your hometown to Los Angeles, California. You all had the next week off for summer break and getting drunk and sunburnt on the West Coast sounded like a pretty great idea. You watched dozens of people walk along the coastline, several enjoying the water and others playing in the sand, some groups playing volleyball. You can’t remember the last time you went to the beach or even on a vacation. The last two years, you have been completely immersed in your studies, barely having time to relax, let alone have any time to yourself.

Los Angeles was the perfect getaway. Tonight, you had all agreed to splurge and go out to eat at a restaurant in Hollywood, just to get the full experience. Maybe even spot a celebrity or two. Your mind briefly thought of the idea of running into the Sturniolo Triplets, who you were obsessed with recently (which your friends were painfully aware of). But of course, that was delusional and the odds of seeing them were one in a million.

After a couple hours of enjoying the sun and sand, you headed back to your hotel to get ready for dinner. You chose to wear a pair of cute mom jeans, a tube top and cardigan, and a nice pair of sneakers. You didn’t want to dress up too much as you already felt tired from the beach and planned on crashing out in your bed right after dinner. You all went to eat at a gorgeous Italian restaurant, thoroughly enjoying the night, laughing and talking over good food and wine.

Once you got back to the hotel, you told your friends goodnight and went to your separate room, immediately hopping in the shower and changing into a comfortable pair of flannel pajama shorts and an old band t-shirt. You had talked about going out to a club or bar but you felt exhausted. This was your first day of vacation and already you had been stressing about your classes. Your friends forced you to leave your computer at home so that you weren’t tempted to do some extra credit for your school work. Sometimes you found it hard to just relax and take a break. You were trying to learn to simply live in the moment and stop thinking so hard about what to do next. Still, your mind raced as you lay in bed, attempting to sleep. Rain pelted the window of your room as it started to storm outside. You loved when it rained, the calming sound of thunder and raindrops on the roof usually coaxed you to sleep quickly. But tonight, you couldn’t stop tossing and turning. You were wide awake. You had the sudden urge to get up and do something – anything – to entertain you that hopefully would tire you out enough to finally go to sleep.

You got out of bed and slipped on your converse, not bothering to change your pajamas. You had decided to just go to the drive through and get an ice cream. A midnight snack would be just the thing you needed.

These were the events that had led up to you now in your car halfway down the street from the Wendy’s you stopped at, vanilla frosty in your hand, the other hand on the steering wheel as you stopped at a red light. The radio played softly as you ate your ice cream, streetlights illuminating the dark streets. There were only a few people on the road being that it was nearly one in the morning. The palm trees swayed slightly with the breeze, rain still coming down although not as hard as before. This is nice, you thought. This is my vacation. There is no time for stress. Once I get back to my room, I’ll get some rest. Tomorrow, me and the girls will go out sightseeing. Maybe even go to the–

Your thoughts were interrupted by a loud bang behind you as you felt your body jolt forward harshly, you frosty dropping out of your hand, vanilla soft serve spilling all over your lap and steering wheel. Your air bag went off, a piece snapping painfully against your forehead. It happened so quickly you barely had time to register it. After a good thirty seconds, you realized you had just been rear ended. Great. You thought. This is the last thing I needed. You looked out of your rear-view mirror to see a Kia attached to your bumper. The culprit, from what you could see through the tinted window, looked to be a boy around your age with long brown hair. You sighed in frustration, leaning your head back against the headrest. You hated confrontation, especially in situations like these. Not to mention you’d have to file this with insurance and that was another headache in itself. Reluctantly, you opened your door, stepping out into the wet street.

Fuck. You didn’t have an umbrella with you. Talk about the fucking cherry on top. Luckily the rain had significantly got lighter than earlier, and it wasn’t thunder and lightning anymore. You closed the door, walking towards the other car but stopped dead in your tracks once you recognized the person that had crashed into you.

There was absolutely no way. Had you actually fallen asleep in your hotel room and were currently dreaming? Because there was just no way that you were standing in the middle of the street, rain currently soaking through your pajamas which were also sticky with ice cream, staring at Christopher Sturniolo who had rear ended your car. Who also happened to be in a yelling match with Matt and Nick at the current moment. You had to be dreaming.

Your feet were frozen to the ground as you stood there, physically unable to move. How does one even go about approaching them? Oh, hey funny to see you guys here. I know you just crashed into my car but don’t worry about it. I’ll just be on my way back to the comfort of my bed so I can completely avoid this insane situation and also avoid making a complete idiot of myself….

“Chris, are you fucking serious?!”

“This is the last time I ever let you drive, you’re obviously incapable.”

“Will both of you shut the fuck up! I can’t find my phone; I think it went under the seat.”

“Oh, you can’t be serious. He just hit another car and the kid is worried about his phone.”

“I’d be more worried about the insurance and how much we’re gonna have to pay for this!!”

“Oh my God! I said shut the fu-“

They didn’t seem to even notice you, too caught up in their bickering as you had slowly walked closer, your voice quiet and timid.

“Uh, hey… Don’t worry about insurance or anything. If you don’t wanna claim it, I’m cool with that.”

You interrupted, trying to hide your visibly shaking hands and crossing your arms.

All three boys halted their conversation, turning to look at you with wide eyes as if they almost forgot there was another human being inside the car they had just hit.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. Excuse my brother, he actually has half a brain and apparently the inability to drive.” Nick said, an apologetic look on his face and then turning to glare at Chris.

Chris glared back at him, finally finding his phone from underneath the seat. He made eye contact with you, his glare turning into a sheepish look. He ran a hand through his hair, his mouth opening to speak to you, but Matt stepped in front, approaching you.

“You don’t have to worry. I’m actually the one who owns this car and I have great insurance so I promise it will all be taken care of.” He says, with a nice smile. You smile back politely, still holding onto your arms and trying not to freak out at the fact you’re actually conversing with these people right now.

“Are you sure? I mean, the damage isn’t that bad. I wont mind just forgetting this happened and calling it a night.” You laugh nervously, glancing at the busted bumper on your car. In all honesty, it actually wasn’t too bad. You would need a new bumper for sure, which might put a dent in your wallet but at the current moment you wanted nothing but to get the fuck out of there.

“No way! It wouldn’t feel right if we just walked away from this. Matt will get all the details and take care of it.” Nick chimed in, an identical smile to Matt’s on his face that made you feel just a little more comfortable.

Meanwhile Chris leaned up against the car, unusually quiet and with a look of stress over his features, stealing glances at you every now and them. He definitely felt guilty for causing the accident and he knew he would never hear the end of it from his brothers. He stared at his shoes and tucked his hands in the pocket of his hoodie, waiting while you exchanged information with Matt.

You typed your insurance information into Matt’s phone handing it back, while he handed you yours. You suddenly felt a twinge of pain on your forehead and winced, reaching up to touch it. It was then that you noticed there was about a 2-inch gash from the airbag snapping in your face. It didn’t feel too deep, but it hurt. Matt and Nick both noticed and Nick instinctively reached out to grab your arm. “Are you okay? It looks like its bleeding.” He said in concern. Chris then snapped his head up, his attention fully on you now. He walked over to Nick and Matt, a look of pure terror on his face as he stared at the cut on your head.

“Oh, I’m fine. I’ve had worse, I promise. I just need to get back to my hotel and clean it up.” You say reassuringly. But they were not buying it.

“Are you sure? Maybe we should call an ambulance? I really don’t want anything bad to happen.” Chris says.

“An ambulance? Don’t be dramatic, Chris. Maybe she just needs to sit down for a while.” Matt responds quickly. He looks at you like you’re an injured puppy, concern filling his eyes.

“Yeah, I agree. Let’s have her sit in the car for a bit. It’s not helping that we’re also standing in the rain like idiots.” Nick quips, guiding you to the back seat of their car.

You laugh nervously again, taking a seat. They crowd around you, looking at you like you might fall dead to the ground.

“Look, I really appreciate that you guys are being so helpful. But I’m not gonna lie, I’m freezing right now, my clothes are wet, and I just wanna get back to my hotel and go to sleep. Also, no offense, but I know you guys from your YouTube videos and this is a very awkward situation for me.” The words spill out in a rush, and you cover your face with your hands in embarrassment.

“Oh! I’m such an idiot. Here, take my hoodie. I have an extra one in the back.” Chris says, seeming to completely ignore the fact that you admitted you knew who they were and reaches around you to grab his dry hoodie from the back seat. He hands it to you, and you hesitantly take it, your eyebrows raised in confusion at his nonchalant response. “So you can at least warm up a little.” He smiles, trying to make you feel more comfortable. You do nothing but grip onto the soft hoodie and look over at Matt and Nick who also seem to not care a thing about what you just said. Matt says, “I’ll go look at your car if you don’t mind and make sure its safe for you to drive and then once you warm up, you’ll be free to go!”

He makes his way towards your car and Nick climbs in on the other side of the back seat next to you. “Sorry again for everything. I’m pretty sure this wasn’t how you expected your night to go.” He says. You then find yourself genuinely laughing for the first time tonight and start to pull the hoodie on, grateful to feel something warm over your wet clothes. “Yeah, definitely not what I expected.” Chris climbs into the passenger seat, turning back to look at you. “This is where I normally sit.” He states with a cheeky grin and you giggle, feeling a slight blush creep onto your face. He really was just as attractive in person, if not more, you realize as your nerves slightly settle down. “But I guess you already knew that.” He adds, his grin turning into a smirk. “Yeah and it’s gonna stay that way, you idiot.” Nick interrupts, making you erupt into more giggles as Chris’ smirk turns into a glare. “Shut up.” He mumbles, turning back around in his seat as Matt walks back towards their car, opening the driver door and getting in. He has a serious look on his face now, turning to look at you in the back seat.

“So… there’s an issue. It looks like Chris’ dumbass rear ended you so hard that your rear tire is flat. And I really doubt any tow truck is going to come at this time of night. Even if it does, it will take a while. And I wouldn’t feel safe letting you go alone. It looks like the best option is to drop you off myself at your hotel and have them tow your car in the morning. We can push it to the side of the road so there’s no issues.” Matt says, your heart sinking and you lay your head in your hands in frustration before he even finishes his sentence. Nick frowns and sighs, putting another reassuring hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry. We’ll pay for all of it, I swear.” He says. You look at him with a smile and turn to Matt, ready to just agree with him so you can be done with this night already before Chris interrupts you. “Why don’t we just take her to the house? It’s literally 5 minutes from here and we don’t know how serious her head injury is.” He suggests.

Chris knows this is a crazy suggestion. First of all, you’re a fan, and you just met not even 30 minutes ago. You could be a psycho killer for all he knows. But Chris likes to believe that he has a strong intuition, especially when it comes to people and he just knows you’re not the type. To be quite honest, he hasn’t been able to take his eyes off you since he first saw you. Even with the rain completely drenching you and what looked like to be some sort of frozen dessert staining the front of your shirt and shorts, he thought you were beautiful. He already felt horrible for fucking up your car and causing you bodily harm. The least he could do was take you to his house and attend to your wounds. Only to make sure you didn’t drop dead on some random hotel carpet. Right?

Everyone looks at him like he has three heads. His brothers exchange concerning glances, awkward silence filling the car. Since when did he just invite random strangers into his house?

“Uhh.. Are you sure? I mean, how do you feel about that..?” Matt asks, looking at you with hesitation. You didn’t respond just yet, still adjusting to the fact Chris Sturniolo is voluntarily inviting you to their home.

“I don’t know…. I think I agree with Chris. I don’t wanna be responsible if you go back to your hotel alone and end up with a concussion or something. No offense.” Nick adds, shrugging his shoulders.

You scoff, extremely surprised at the fact that they’ve taken it this far. “No no no, look. You three have been really nice to me over this whole thing, but its just a little cut. I promise I’ll be fine. My hotel isn’t that far either. I don’t want to intrude and-“

Chris suddenly reaches out and lightly touches your forehead, blood still trickling out and starting to run down the side of your head. You wince in pain and recoil from his touch, your head starting to throb. “See? It’s not just a little cut, is it? You’re actively bleeding, and it obviously hurts. I know you’re just being modest, but I promise I just – we just- want to make sure you’re okay.” He says, his eyes trailing down your face, admiring it briefly, his fingertips ghosting over your jaw before he pulls his hand back. You remain frozen in your seat, butterflies swarming in your lower abdomen from the light touch he left on your face. “Unless you really do feel uncomfortable, then I understand. We can take you to the hotel. But like Nick said, we just don’t want anything bad to happen.” He added softly, turning back around, raking a hand through his hair. Nick and Matt exchange looks again, noticing the obvious tension.

You take in a deep breath and pull Chris’ hoodie tighter around you. “Fine. I guess I see your point. You can take me to your house but once I get this stupid cut on my head cleaned up, I’ll call my friend to come pick me up.” You finally say, buckling your seat belt. You can’t help but notice a small, smug smirk on Chris’ face through the passenger side mirror.

Once they pushed your car to the side of the road, Matt takes off with you in the backseat, your head leaned against the window.

I must be dreaming right? I’m definitely in my bed right now and this is not happening. You think to yourself, the intoxicating smell of Dior Sauvage cologne filling your nose, as you press the sleeve of Chris’ hoodie to the throbbing wound on your head.

[thenameisgul]

Sam and Dean never finding a case in the big American cities is so funny to me

Like, what do you mean???

How come they never found a wendigo living in the abandoned subway stations in nyc

Are you telling me there were no vampires partying and drinking blood at midnight raves and clubs in Los Angeles

What do you mean they never found a siren feasting on college students in spring break in Miami , Florida

Are you saying there were never any kids going missing in Austin that turned out to be the La Llorona

How come all the monsters stuck to rural Midwest towns with stupid white men as Sherrif???

[discoscoob]

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ONE FOR THE MONEY

˙ ✩°˖💸 ⋆｡˚ Kevin Lomax x Reader

Synopsis: while on a work trip in Los Angeles where he is going to attend numerous social events, Kevin hires you to be his date for his entire stay. 3.7k words.

CW: hella toxic relationship, hooker!reader, bratty!reader, Kevin is an asshole, you’re also an asshole (you say something uncalled for,) and you slap him (he deserves it,) angst? degrading language, oral (m!receiving), face fucking.

˙ ✩°˖💸 ⋆｡˚

The gala is like nothing you’ve seen before. A lavish affair filled with thousands of upper-class and celebrity guests, wearing the latest fashion of the season, with faces full of expensive cosmetic enhancements.

You feel a sudden tinge of imposter syndrome building inside your chest as you walk through the lobby alongside Kevin, his arm firmly clasping your waist as he navigates the crowd of guests.

It’s a far cry from the dingy clubs you’re used to hanging around in, the people here look like something straight out of a magazine.

“Am I allowed to drink the champagne?” you whisper in Kevin’s ear as your eyes catch sight of waiters wandering through the crowd, carrying gold trays filled with champagne flutes.

Kevin gives you a stern look, running a finger under your chin as he turns your face to his.

“Of course, darlin’.” he assures you, his voice low and comforting. “Just remember, I don’t want you drunk and ruining this evening. Keep it to two glasses.”

“What do you think I’ll do? Get up on one of the tables and start doing a strip tease?” you quip sarcastically at his strict rules as you grab one of the champagne flutes as the waiter passes by.

“Not funny, sweetheart. You really need to watch your mouth.” Kevin warns you, but there’s a faint hint of amusement in his voice. “You’re representing me tonight and I won’t have my reputation ruined by some loose tongue.”

“C’mon… you can’t deny it’d make the event more exciting.” you lean into Kevin’s side seductively, as a mischievous smile spreads on your lips while you run your manicured fingers over the silk lapels of his tuxedo jacket. You know already that you will be bored out your brains by the end of the evening.

Kevin scoffs, placing a restraining hand on your shoulder, gently pressing you away from him.

"This isn't a joke, Y/N. I've paid you good money to keep your mouth shut and act appropriately. If you can't handle it, then perhaps I should find myself another date."

"Don't push your luck. I wouldn't hesitate to replace you.” Kevin warns you under his breath, lightly gripping your waist as he walks you towards the group of people he wishes to introduce you to. “Just do as I say and keep your mouth shut unless spoken to.”

As you walk with Kevin, you can't help but feel a slight sting at his words. You swallow hard, taking small sips of your champagne to calm your nerves. Your gaze flickers to the other women in attendance, all dressed to the nines, laughing and smiling effortlessly.

When Kevin introduces you to the first person, a stern-faced man with slicked-back hair, your heart races and you struggle to string together a coherent sentence. You take solace in the fact that despite your awkwardness, you're still attracting stares from those around you.

Throughout the event, you exchange pleasantries and make small talk, eventually finding yourself listening to stories about corporate deals and movie investments, trying to appear engaged.

By the time the gala draws close to midnight, your stifling yawns and rubbing the back of your neck, trying to massage away the ache caused by the heavy necklace that Kevin had loaned from a jewellers, you didn’t even want to know how much it was worth, but you’re certain it was more than the collective wealth of all your ancestors.

The night had been a long and exhausting one, with endless conversations of people whose lives revolved around luxury and privilege becoming tiresome very quickly.

Kevin is in the middle of a discussion with an associate that you had long since tuned out of as you let out a tired yawn you could no longer hold in. The two men stop their conversation and both glance in your direction. Kevin shoots you a glare, while the other man gives you an appraising stare that makes you slightly uncomfortable.

“Are you bored?” Kevin says, his tone of voice more sharp than usual, clearly having noticed your lack of interest in the conversation.

“Bored? No, not at all.” you speak with forced enthusiasm. “I’m having the time of my life.”

Kevin’s expression becomes irritated as he hears the sarcasm in your voice, his eyes briefly locking with his associates before he continues with the conversation, choosing to ignore your comment.

“As I was saying, we’re looking to expand outside of New York City and take on some international clients. We want to create a global profile for this firm so that…”

Kevin’s words carry on but it’s all just white noise to you now, as you struggle to stay awake.

As the conversation continues, your eyes wander curiously over the room, only a handful of guests remain, all of them huddled in small groups sharing superficial conversations. Your eyes catch sight of a pair of glass doors, leading out onto a balcony. While Kevin is distracted by his conversation, you manage to slip away unnoticed, making your way to the balcony.

Once outside, you take in a deep breath of fresh air into your lungs, relieved to be away from the suffocating environment of the gala.

Your eyes flutter shut as you enjoy the cool breeze, letting it blow the exhaustion away until you feel more alert. That’s when a presence behind you makes you jolt a little, immediately feeling defensive.

Before you can turn around to see who joined you on the balcony, you feel two hands lightly wrap around your waist as you hear Kevin’s familiar voice whisper your name in your ear, his tone sounding a lot more light and playful now.

“You couldn’t even be well-behaved enough to stay in the room where I could see you? I knew I couldn’t trust you to stay put for five minutes while I have a conversation.” Kevin wraps both of his arms around you from behind, pulling you against his warm body as he leans his head on top of yours.

“Have you come to tell me that it’s time to leave?” you ask him with a hint of hope in your tone as you lean into his broad chest and rest your tired head against his shoulder while he remains stood sturdily behind you, accepting your weight with ease.

“Of course not,” Kevin murmurs, his voice filled with flirtation as he notices your tired expression resting against his chest.

He can feel the warmth of your breath upon his skin and a slight tingle of excitement runs through his body as you rest yourself upon him.

“I just came to check up on you,” Kevin says, his voice softer now as he gently runs his hands along the sides of your back. “You look a little tired. Are you okay?”

“Not really. I think I’m about to die of boredom.” you take your weight off of Kevin’s chest and turn around in his arms to face him. “The parties I’m used to are so much more fun than this and I don’t have to wear jewellery that damn near breaks my neck.”

“Oh, I see… you miss the days of the dingy little local clubs you used to go to, huh?” Kevin teases lightheartedly, his lips turning up into a playful grin as he notices the distain in your voice.

He wraps his arms around your waist again as he leans into you, his breath slightly tickling your neck as he speaks.

“Well, the parties you used to go to were probably all about hooking up with strangers and getting trashed.”

“As opposed to listening to you discuss legal jargon with your boring associates for hours on end?” you playfully roll your eyes as you lean back against the rail of the balcony.

“As opposed to being a whore that gets trashed every night dancing half-naked in some dingy club for a bunch of sleazy scumbags?” Kevin says, his tone becomes less teasing and more frustrated as he’s met with your flippant replies.

The smile falls from your face as you push yourself off of the rail into a defensive stance, crossing your arms over your chest.

“You’re such a fucking dickhead.” you shake your head, your tone becoming flat as you try to remove the emotion from it, not wanting to show him how much his words penetrate your self-esteem.

Kevin’s expression darkens as your smile falls from your face, the playful energy that was radiating in the air before vanishes like dust in the wind.

“What? Did I hit a chord?” Kevin asks, his arms dropping to his sides as he takes a step forward standing right in front of you.

“That’s what your best at, isn’t it? Spreading your legs and showing off your body.”

You feel your blood simmering to a boil inside your chest as a raging fire begins to burn inside your soul and before you know it your hand is colliding with Kevin’s cheek. The sound of the slap echos in your ears as you freeze, feeling the heat on your palm as you look at him with wide eyes, realising too late what you just did.

Kevin's jaw clenches as the hot sensation of your hand smacking across his face takes him by surprise. His hand flies to his cheek, as he stares at you in shock, before the rage and anger begin to bubble in his chest.

In the blink of an eye, he shoves you hard into the balcony railing, pushing you backwards until your back slams up against it. Kevin quickly places him hands on your shoulders as he leans in close, his facial expression now one of anger and rage rather than his former playful flirting.

You quiver as you grip the edge of the rail tightly with both my hands, rationality told you he wouldn't push you over the edge yet your heart was pounding fiercely in your chest as the fear rose inside you, leaving you trembling.

Your dilated pupils were transfixed on Kevin's that glared at you with a glimmer of evil from under his dark brows that left you questioning what he was actually capable of.

"You hit me," Kevin says, his voice sounding dangerously calm and eerily restrained.

"You just hit me, you stupid little whore." His hands tighten around your shoulders, squeezing hard enough to cause pain as he lets his rage take over, the playful flirting of moments ago gone. Now, all you see is just a cold, raging set of eyes glaring down at you as he keeps you pinned against the railing.

"I- I'm..." you pant heavily, feeling a cold sweat began to gather on your brow from the unbridled fear coursing through your veins, pumped by your ferocious heartbeat that feels as though it's lodged in your throat while you white knuckle the railing.

Before you can manage to utter an apology in an attempt to appease Kevin, a couple step out onto the balcony, snapping Kevin out of his rage filled trance as he steps back, releasing his bruising grip on you.

You immediately feel the tension leave your body, but you keep your grip fast on the rail, feeling as though your legs are about to give way from beneath you.

Kevin’s eye flicker towards the couple that just stepped out onto the balcony. There's a brief moment of relief, then he quickly composes himself, hiding his fury behind a polite smile.

"Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Thompson! How lovely to see you," Kevin greets the couple, his voice smooth and polished.

"Let's get back inside, Y/N," he says, his voice still pleasant and controlled, even as his gaze never leaves the newly arrived couple.

Taking your hand, he leads you back into the party, maintaining his composed demeanour as he says his goodbyes and excuses you both from the gala.

His grip on your hand remains firm as he leads you out of the venue and towards the limousine waiting outside to take you both back to his hotel.

Ever since the incident on the balcony, your heartbeat has not slowed down and you feel as though it’s about it’s about to jump out your throat at any moment as you sit silently beside Kevin in the back of the car.

Kevin’s eyes watch every single movement you make, as he waits patiently for you to speak first - which he knows you won’t.

“Why did you hit me?”

“Why do you think?” you snap back at him with a heated glare, astonished that he even needs to ask. “You were being disrespectful and degrading towards me.”

“So you hit me?” Kevin says bluntly, his voice now laced with something between anger, annoyance, and slight amusement.

“You felt belittled, is that it? Is that what triggered your childish impulse to physically strike me? You’re a grown woman, yet you behave like a toddler who hasn’t learnt how to control her emotions yet.”

“You can talk! You were practically about to throw me over the edge of the balcony. I don’t even want to imagine what might’ve happened had that couple not stepped out right at that moment.” you call out his own lack of control.

“Don’t be so dramatic. I wasn’t going to throw you over the edge.” he replies, his tone cold and blunt.

“All I was going to do was teach you a lesson. Remind you that there are consequences for your childish actions when you hit someone. A lesson your mother clearly forgot to teach you.” Kevin replies, his words clearly designed to provoke you.

“Too bad my mother wasn’t around to teach me that one.” you sigh bitterly with a huff through your nose while your eyes glaze with tears that you refuse to let fall.

“Ahh, so now it all makes sense.” Kevin says mockingly, before he rolls his eyes. “That would explain the trashy, cheap attitude. The lack of manners. The inability to act your age and the desire to sleep with anything with a pulse.”

“If you think I’m such trash why’d you take me to that gala tonight? Why are you paying me to pretend to be your girlfriend? You can’t get a woman to stick around for free?” you fix him with a challenging glare.

Kevin's jaw clenches in the presence of your challenging stare. He's used to intimidating people, and he's not used to being stared down so boldly.

However, he remains composed and calm, even though tension is clearly running beneath the surface.

"I thought I'd give you a chance. I thought there was a chance that I could fix you. I could turn someone as cheap, trashy, and low class as you into a respectable woman. Someone who could hold my arm proudly and be worthy of attending such events with me."

"Well if this is what your life is like I couldn’t think of anything more hellish. It's no wonder your wife killed herself!” you vomit the words out before you can control them and as soon as they leave you tongue your hand slams over your own mouth, wishing you could reel them back in.

A flash of raw, unfiltered rage flares in Kevin's eyes, his hands clenching into fists as he processes what you've just said.

There's a tense moment of silence as his thoughts run rampant, fighting for grip on his emotions. His face is contorted with anger as his jaw clenched tightly, his teeth grinding together angrily.

"I'll pretend you didn't say that," he says lowly, taking a deep breath as he tries to regain his composure.

"I'm sorry." you immediately apologise, your eyes filling with regret and sincerity as your anger dissipates while looking at him. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"Damn right you shouldn't have." Kevin's tone remains harsh, and it's clear that the words still sting, despite trying his best to maintain his composed front.

"You're damned lucky I'm restraining myself right now and just reminding you that you've crossed a line. Now, be quiet so I can think about how I'm going to punish you."

You fall silent for the rest of the drive back to the hotel, keeping your eyes focused on the world outside as you drive by. It's not long until the limousine pulls up in front of the hotel lobby and the silence between the pair of you remains like a suffocating blanket as you ride the elevator together.

The tension is palpable as you arrive at the penthouse suite. With the door slamming shut behind you, Kevin turns to face you, his expression still full of simmering anger.

"Strip," he commands, pointing at you with a sharp jerk of his chin.

His eyes are like ice, and there's no mistaking the seriousness of his command. This punishment is just getting started, and it seems like you're only just beginning to understand the extent of his wrath.

Silently, you unzip the dress, letting gravity do the rest as it slips easily from your body to the plush carpet where you step out of it, leaving you wearing only your high heels, black lace lingerie and the dazzling necklace that still sits heavily against your collarbones.

Kevin's eyes narrow as he looks you over, taking in your figure in the black lingerie and the expensive necklace. His lips twist into a smirk, and he takes a step closer to you. His fingers reach out to gently trace the strap of your lacy bra before he tugs on it until it snaps back against your shoulder, making you jolt slightly.

“This too…” he only chuckles darkly at your flinch as he begins to circle around you as your trembling fingers fumble with the clasp of your bra.

“And these…” he adds with a harsh slap to your ass right over the fabric of your panties.

By the time he circles back around to your front, you’ve managed to discard your lingerie and his eyes are slowly trailing the length of your exposed body with a hum of approval.

“This…” Kevin tugs on the heavy necklace with a single finger, adding extra strain to your already aching neck. “…stays on.”

You part your lips, a protest on the tip of your tongue but before you can utter a single word, Kevin silences you with a single glare.

“You’ve ran your mouth enough for one night.” he speaks sharply with a commanding tone, leaving no doubt about who is in charge. “I pay you to do two things with it and neither of them involve talking. I don’t want to hear another word from you for the rest of the night unless it’s ‘yes, sir.’ Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” you answer without hesitation.

“On your knees.” Kevin orders as he takes a step back and watches you sink to your knees on the plush carpet.

“I’m sure you don’t need instructions for the rest. You’re a professional, right?” he taunts you with a shit eating grin and you react to it with a glare as you look up at him but you stifle your quips, biting your tongue as your fingers work to undo his belt.

The buckle rattles as you unbutton his trousers and Kevin’s large hands find purchase in your hair. You’re met with the sight of his straight and rigid erection as it springs free from his boxers and stands to attention.

With your tongue, you kitten lick the salty pre-come dripping from his reddened tip before you wrap your eager lips around it. Kevin’s hands instantly tighten their grip against your scalp, keeping you held in place as he begins to set the place with his own thrusts into your warm mouth.

As you look up at him through your eyelashes, he gives a rough thrust of his hips until the blunt tip of his cock hits the back of your throat, making your eyes water as you instinctively try to pull your head back but his grip in your hair remains fast.

Kevin growls, feeling the constriction of your throat fluttering around his tip as he continues to push your limits with his forceful and steady pace with his eyes trained on the tears that drip from the corners of your watery eyes as you choke and fight the urge to gag.

“C’mon, baby. I thought you’d be used to choking on cocks by now.” Kevin’s voice strains with each thrust, the sound of pleasure influencing his breathy tone. “Is this one just too big for you, huh?”

He continues to thrust hard and fast, his grip on your hair unrelenting, as he watches you struggle with his size. The noise of your gagging and whimpering only fuels his desire, making him harder with each passing second.

“Maybe next time, you’ll remember to keep your mouth shut and your opinions to yourself.” Kevin punctuates each word with a forceful thrust, speaking through clenched teeth as he nears his climax.

Kevin's thrusts become more frantic, his breaths growing ragged as he nears his climax. The tears streaming down your face only serve to heighten his arousal, the sight of your pain and humiliation driving him closer to the edge.

"Swallow every drop, you ungrateful slut," he growls, his thrusts become more frantic and his breath grows ragged as his release creeps up on him.

With one final, powerful surge, burying himself deep in the back of your throat, he comes. His release fills your mouth and spills from the corners of your lips.

You cough and splutter as he finally slips out of your mouth with a trail of spit and come connecting from your lips to the tip of his softening cock before it drips down your chin and neck.

You’re panting heavily from your swollen lips, with a flushed face that’s covered with a mixture of sweat, tears, spit and come and your styled hair is ruined from Kevin’s forceful grip on it.

"Goddamn, you're a mess. Clean yourself up." he mutters as his gaze trails over your disheveled appearance with a look of disregard for your state as he walks past you, adjusting himself in his trousers while making his way to the mini bar to pour himself a drink.

"And next time, you’ll think twice before my wife’s name leaves your dirty mouth again.” you hear him shout over your shoulder.

⋆｡°✩ note: this is the first time I have written anything quite like this so I was kinda nervous. I hope it was enjoyable to read. Every reblog and comment is greatly appreciated. Thank you so much for reading!

[latoyalestrange]

THE FOOL

p. pascal x f!oc

Masterlist | Playlist

Summary: It was their last twenty-four hours in Columbia before the cast flew back to Los Angeles. If you thought they weren’t going to party, you would be terribly mistaken.

Words: 3.3k

Warnings: Alcohol, mentions of cheating, possessive!pedro, not edited, begging 0.0, suggestive make out sceneeee

Taglist: @marvel-sw-lover , @lokislittle , @red-red-rogue , @babukat , @joels-darlin , @lmariephoto37 , @violac0la

comment if you want to be added to the taglist!

CHAPTER SIX — BAD INFLUENCE

“And that’s a fucking wrap!” Tom shouted, flute of champagne held up for a toast. The long dinner table erupted with applause and cheering. “I won’t bore you with a long speech, I know I already talk too much. So enjoy your dinner, and we will see you next year for season two!” Another round of applause as he joins in on the cheering before taking his seat.

“Thank god, I’m starving.” Pedro grumbled in his seat, next to Naela of course.

“I know, right? I feel like I can finally relax and eat a full meal. I’m so nervous in between takes that I can’t eat,” she chuckles, wasting no time in digging in.

“Really? What makes you so nervous?” There was that tone again. She gave him a knowing smirk in between bites.

“Hm. Interesting.” He knew what she was trying to say. Pedro and Naela always seemed to be on the same page, which was proven true when they were asked if they wanted to continue the party after dinner at a nearby club.

“But we have to wake up so early tomorrow,” Naela droned, pouting at Joanna.

“Yeah, I don’t know about being hungover for a 7 hour flight,” Pedro added.

“Oh, come on, love birds! Let’s have some fun tonight!” Joanna shook Naela’s shoulders, forcing them to laugh. “We won’t get to see each other again until the season premier!”

“Blondie’s right, let’s go make bad decisions!” Boyd joined in, jokingly cheering at the last part. Pedro looked at Naela, smirking at her while he considered the idea.

“I’ll go if she goes,” he decided before taking the last drink from his glass. Naela rolled her eyes but failed to look annoyed with her cheeks flushed.

“Pleeease, Naela? I promise it’ll be so much fun!” Joanna clasped her hands together as she begged. Naela thought for a moment, clearly it was important to Joanna.

“Fine. But I’m leaving at midnight, sharp,” Naela tried to warn her, but Joanna was already jumping and cheering after the first word.

“Yay! That’s probably how late I wanted to stay out anyway.” Joanna beamed at her, making her chuckle and shake her head.

As soon as they passed the bouncer, Naela could feel the regret setting in. The music, the dancing, and the overall atmosphere just wasn’t her. She was more of a bar kind of girl. However, if you got a few drinks in her, she could definitely be a club girl.

A few drinks meaning two shots of tequila and a refajo; exactly what she’d had tonight. The group gathered around a small, circular, bar-height table with their drinks. Joanna and Naela were chatting on one side, and the boys on the other. With her barriers down, conversation was flowing without any effort. They were laughing, joking, telling stories, and it all felt natural. Things came to a crashing halt, however, when Joanna heard one of her favorite songs come on.

She gasped, “I love this song! Naela, you have to come dance with me!” She clapped giddily before taking Naela’s hands, robbing her of the opportunity to say no. Luckily, it was one of Naela’s guilty pleasure songs as well, ones that you hate to admit they make you dance every time.

They didn’t waste a second getting to the dance floor and swaying their hips together to the beat. The neon lights glided across their skin as they moved, making a beautiful scene for everyone to watch, and they did. They stood out against the crowd and Naela only realized it when the music changed and she finally paid attention to her surroundings. A few pairs of eyes were on them, but the only ones she cared about were the espresso orbs staring at her from across the dance floor. Before she could think, her feet were carrying her closer to him and Joanna was following close behind.

They weaved their way through the dance floor and eventually arrived back at the table. Her eyes were mostly locked with Pedro’s, but she couldn’t help but notice the new round of drinks waiting for them on the table.

“Aw, how’d you know?” Joanna mused as she took the shot glass in her hand.

“Just had a feeling.” Pedro answered, openly winking at Naela. She smirked and followed suit, taking the small-but-mighty tequila shot in her hand.

“Cheers.” She hoped her friends didn’t pick up on the suggestive tone meant for Pedro. If they did, they didn’t comment before bringing their glasses together, then tapping them on the table in ritual. Naela held her breath as she brought the glass up to her plump and glossed lips and downed the firey liquid in one go. She usually couldnt hide her disgust after the second shot and this time was no different. Luckily for her, Pedro found the way she scrunched her nose and stuck out her tongue adorable. He shook off his own disgust before smiling down at her while she wasn’t looking.

“I think we should go dance with different people at the same time,” Joanna announced, looking pointedly at Boyd. He looked confused at first, but she nudged him and gestured towards Naela and Pedro on the other side of the table.

“What—“ Naela started before Boyd cut her off, agreeing with Joanna.

“Yeah, yeah I’m gonna go dance…” He trailed off as she dragged him away. Naela turned to Pedro, who was already looking at her, and couldn’t contain her laughter.

He shook his head, “What are we gonna do with them?”

She giggled, “I have no idea.” He sighed and glanced around the room, trying to swallow his anxiety.

“So what’s the first thing you’re doing when you get home?” Was the first question he could think of. The lights were flashing around, making focusing harder and just her presence was enough to make him sweat. She held back a wide smile by biting her lip, unable to contain her excitement.

“Firing my manager,” she answered confidently.

He instantly burst into laughter, letting his head fall back. “That’s fair, very fair.”

“What about you?” She asked, letting her body language naturally open up as she turned toward him. He smoothed his mustache for a moment, like he was deep in thought.

“Probably just gonna wait for you to call me,” he answered with a smug look on his face. She nudged him with her elbow, refusing to give in to the temptations she was feeling.

“I’m serious,” she added, looking up at him.

“So am I,” he chuckled. “Hope John won’t be too jealous.”

She scoffed, knowing he knew her boyfriends name, “It’s Josh. And he already is, if I’m honest.” The liquor was getting to the both of them and it was obvious in their conversation. His brow furrowed with interest.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” His tone again. It was like a siren’s call that pulled her further out to sea, and she was entirely fine with drowning in it.

“I only told him bits and pieces of a few scenes and he tried to convince me not to take the job. He damn near broke up with me when I told him about the other contract.” Her expression fell as she spoke, and Pedro swore he could feel a fire ignite in his chest. He was enraged by the fact that a man could treat a woman like her so poorly.

“Well you can tell John to step up or I’m next.” She didn’t bother to correct him. Her head was spinning, trying to find something witty and not awkward to say.

“Maybe I will,” with a cheeky smile and intentional eye contact was the best she could come up with. “I’m gonna go use the restroom. Could you get us another round?” she added to diffuse the tension. He nodded and watched as she gathered her purse and turned to walk away. Naela felt the urge to look over her shoulder, feeling a pair of eyes on her. Sure enough, glancing back at Pedro, she could clearly see his eyes glued below her waist. He looked up at her, wiping his thumb across his lip with a sultry look in his eyes. He didn’t even try to play it off, he wanted her and didn’t care if she knew.

The few minutes she had to herself in the bathroom Naela used relieve herself, but mostly to fix her hair and smudged lip gloss. She took several deep breaths before making her way across the sea of people in between her and where her friends were standing. Boyd and Joanna had joined Pedro back at the table, new drinks in their hands.

“How was sitting on the other side of the club for ten minutes?” Naela asked sarcastically as she sauntered up to the group.

“It was great actually, much better company,” Boyd added jokingly. Pedro wheezed as he laughed and nudged his shoulder.

An hour or so and a few more drinks later, Naela could feel everyone starting to slow down, whether it was from exhaustion or the liquor. Her own words were slurred and she found everything much more funny than it actually was. Additionally, she found herself standing much closer to Pedro than she should’ve been. By now, she leaned into him with his arm ghosting her back as they stood. Either no one cared or they were too drunk to notice.

Speaking of too drunk, while laughing at something Pedro said, she stumbled back into his chest.

“Wow, you’re really drunk,” he whispered teasingly in her ear, chuckling a bit as his hands lingered on the outside of her arms.

“Not even a little bit,” she mumbled, craning her neck to meet his gaze as she rested against him now.

“Let’s get you in bed, yeah?” She knew that wasn’t how he meant it but the ache she felt in between her legs thought otherwise. She nodded and couldn’t help but bite her lip as she looked up at him with suggestive eyes. He smirked down at her enticingly innocent expression, trying to silence the inappropriate thoughts circling his mind.

“I’ll call a taxi,” he chuckled, shaking his head.

“Are you guys coming?” She asked the rest of the group, her eyelids starting to droop and her words becoming more strung together by the second.

“No, I think we’ll finish our drinks first,” Joanne slurred as well, unable to hide her smirk. “You guys go ahead.”

“Okayyy, I’ll see you guys in the morning then.” Naela sloppily wrapped her arms around her friend, almost making the both of them topple over. They laughed it off before she broke away to hug Boyd as well.

“Don’t do anything stupid, yeah?” He joked, patting her back casually.

“So don’t do anything you would do, got it!” Naela resposed teasingly. He chuckled and nudged her away with his palm to her forehead. She retreated to Pedro, who was just getting off the phone.

As if it were a habit, he slinked his arm around her shoulder, whispering in her ear, “Vámonos, hermosa.” God, is Josh could see this…

Naela shooed the thought of her boyfriend away as Pedro held the door for her. The brisk air hitting her face didn’t sober her up one bit, but it felt nice. He joined her near the curb as they waited.

“So what are you actually doing first when you get home?” She asked curiously, smiling brightly at him. Her dimples made him want to cave right then and there.

“I’ll be sleeping for the first few days, trust me,” he laughed, “But once I’m awake I’m shaving this off.” He smoothed his facial hair down, a gesture Naela had grown to find extremely enticing. However, she gasped unexpectedly once she processed what he had said.

“No, please don’t get rid of it! It’s really grown on me,” she whined, inching closer to him and letting her palm rest on his chest.

“I’m pretty sure it’s literally grown on me,” he joked. Once again, even though it wouldn’t be that funny if she were sober, she let her head fall back with laughter, causing her to lose her footing and trip off of the curb and into the street. She would’ve been just fine, but Pedro instinctively grabbed her and pulled her back onto the side walk, coincidentally into his arms. With his heart practically beating out of his chest, tension hung in the air for what felt like many minutes as he searched her eyes for any sign of hesitancy. For once, Pedro knew exactly what he wanted and he was going to get it. No advice from management, no contract, or anything else for that matter could’ve kept him from kissing her in that moment.

Slowly, he brought their lips together for a gentle, yet meaningful kiss. It was so different from all the other times they’d kissed; it wasn’t rushed, expectant, or in front of an entire cast and crew. It was perfect, and she never wanted it to end as her arms found their way around his neck, pulling him in deeper. Their long-anticipated fantasy was over, however, when an impatient honker ripped them out of it. Naela had no idea how long the cab driver had been waiting behind them.

“Oh, shit…Lo siento, señor!” Pedro apologized to the driver before swinging the door open and allowing Naela in first. As they started driving, she instantly knew why the studio was so particular about them using their assigned drivers. She was regretting her last drink as the driver made sharp turns and lurched at every stop. She thought closing her eyes would help, but eventually she resorted to letting her head rest of Pedro’s shoulder.

“You okay?” He asked softly, looking down at her. She shook her head and groaned.

He chuckled, “Tell me if we need to stop. Not sure he’d be too happy if you threw up in here.” She only let out a deep breath in response.

“Frena, por favor. Ella está mareada,” He spoke up to the driver, who instantly accepted his request and drove carefully the rest of the way back.

“Veinte mil pesos, por favor.” The driver said coldly as he put the car in park and outstretched his hand. Pedro sighed and reached around to take out his wallet, giving him two crisp blue bills.

“Quédeselo.” He resposed simply as he pulled himself out of the back seat. Naela reached for her car door, but before she could step out, Pedro was opening her door and holding his hand out for her. She gladly accepted, regaining her footing much better than she had before the ride home. Once the cool air hit her skin again, she felt much better. They smiled at eachother after he closed the door, hardly having a chance before the cab sped off. Naela hardly noticed. She did notice, however, how right Joanna was about how he looked at her. Her cheeks were either hot from him or the drinks, and her stomach, she was sure turned into butterflies.

“You don’t need me to carry you, do you?” He asked teasingly.

She chuckled, “Hm, now that you mention it…” He knew exactly what her tone was implying. He sighed, and without a moment of hesitation, he bent down and wrapped his arms around her thighs and threw her over his shoulder. She squealed at the unexpected movement, desperately grasping onto his back for support.

“I wasn’t serious!” She giggled into his leather jacket as it pressed up against her chin. Once they reached her trailer, he slowly planted her feet on the ground, at which point Naela realized she had neither her shoes or her purse. She patted her side, swearing her bag was hanging off her shoulder moments ago.

“I got it, don’t worry,” He reassured her as he took her keys out of her purse, her shoes in his other hand. She couldn’t remember taking anything off, but she was grateful at least Pedro was keeping track of her mess.

“Oh, thanks,” she responded softly. After a few tries, he eventually opened the door to her trailer and ushered her inside.

“So this is where you’ll be staying for the next six months,” he joked, gesturing around the living space. Naela could hardly focus on what he was saying, though. Something about being taken care of made her want to take care of him. She slowly started inching toward him as he went on. “I hope you like spanish TV, because that’s all that plays—“

Before he could finish, she pressed her lips against his and tangled her fingers in his hair. Caught off guard, he found himself unable to back away, in fact his hands were slithering around her back and pulling her closer. But no matter how much he wanted this, or how long he’d waited, he didn’t want to be that person.

“Naela,” he managed to say in between feverish kisses. He was only met with more kisses. God, he wanted to give in so bad. But not only was she in a relationship, she was drunk. He planted both hands on either side of her face and retracted his own, looking her dead in the eyes.

“Naela, we can’t.” He shook his head, eye contact unbreaking so he knew she understood. Her face instantly dropped, and Pedro felt a pang in his chest. Why did she have to look at him like that?

“You don’t like me?” Her brow tipped upward, making her look utterly devastated. He instantly mirrored her expression, feeling horrible.

“No, no, it’s not that…” He shook his head and let his hands fall to her shoulders. He was no longer nervous to admit it, it’s what she needed to hear. “I really like you, Naela.” It didn’t seem to make her feel better, her eyes glued to the floor. He sighed and brought his hand back up to her cheek, this time brushing her hair behind her ear.

“You’re drunk, amor. And I want us to start off on the right foot. Nothing tieing us to other people…” He hooked his finger under her chin and lifted her eyes to meet his gaze.

“I don’t want there to be any question that we both want this.”

“There isn’t,” she retorted, her eyes unwavering. She slid her hand up his torso, gripping lightly onto his collar once she reached it.

“Please, Pedro…” She couldn’t bring him to her level, so she got on her tip toes to connect their lips once more. He grumbled into the kiss, begrudgingly reciprocating.

“You’re making this really hard for me, Naela.” He growled once their lips parted, still holding her frame close as their foreheads pressed together.

“I hope I’m making something else hard too,” she teased, biting her lip.

“You don’t get to know,” he argued, giving her one last firm peck before straightening his back once more. Their hands loosely intertwined at their sides as he smirked down at her.

“You’re a bad influence,” he chuckled, swiping his tongue across his bottom lip.

“I would say I’m more of a fun influencer.” Pedro instantly laughed at her nonsensical response.

“Okay, yeah, time for bed, Naela.” Before she could protest, he spun her around by her shoulder and began guiding her toward her bed.

The next thing Naela knew, the alarm on her phone was blaring next to her head as she untangled herself from the covers. She quickly scrambled to grab her phone and silence it. She looked at the time, four AM. The events of the night before instantly set in. Naela couldn’t tell if she wished she had more to drink that night so she wouldn’t have to remember embarrassing herself like that. On one hand, she totally would’ve thrown up on Pedro at some point, but was that really worse than what she had done? Naela didn’t think so.

reblog if you made it to the end!

[mikithelibrarian]

It Takes Two | Chapter Four - BLACKPINK Jennie - GN! Reader

Previous Chapter

TW: Strong language.

“I need you there! I’m not about to go all alone to the party when I have a partner!”

“Jennie, you need to understand ―

“I’m gonna be the odd one out there, can´t you just cancel it?”

You became silent after that question and looked at her in disbelief. Was it that hard for her to finally make a sacrifice for you?

Some days earlier your manager contacted you and announced possibly the greatest news of your entire streaming career, you were nominated for the category of most popular streamer in the first official awards show of your platform. Of course, competition would be fierce since you´ll be going against some of the top names in the industry, but the fact that you were nominated was already a blessing.

Now, you needed to go all the way across the Pacific, towards Los Angeles, the city in which the award ceremony and the after party will be held. International media will be there, since streaming has become somewhat mainstream as of lately, alongside some important sponsors, which some of them have already contacted your manager for future partnerships. This was the opportunity of a lifetime, not just because of the mere exposure, but also because you could gather more sponsorship deals to make even greater events.

So, the answer to her question would be a hard no, you can´t cancel it just because of an “important” party of one of her many famous friends you haven’t even been introduced to.

Apparently, some very influential people will be there, moreover, some producers have agreed to go to the party just to talk to Jennie about a project they have in their hands. Where do you fit in all of this? That´s right, nowhere. She could go on her own and then join you, since the party will also be in L.A., or she could hang out with you the day after and have an impromptu date, but she wanted you there, why? Maybe because she wants someone who she knows will be sober, all the while she abandons them to their luck…

You couldn’t deny how your heart got heavier when those puppy eyes awaited your answer. Then, many thoughts came to your mind, a lot of them catastrophic. What if something happens to her? What if she needs someone to take her home? She is a worldwide celebrity after all. But then, other type of thoughts came to your mind; why don’t she accompanies you? You could also take a plus one with you, and maybe you could introduce her to your friends, she would be safe there, and, if the producers want to talk with her, she can meet them the day after, you know, without four shots of tequila to cloud her judgement.

“Why don´t you come with me?” You gently grabbed her hands and put them to your chest. “I can´t cancel it Jennie, this is a great opportunity for me.”

“It´s a great opportunity for me too! And I want you there to celebrate!” Jennie took her hands away from you.

“Come on Jennie, you can meet the producers the day after the awards show, we can even skip the after party and meet them at the club before returning to the ―

“I don´t want to go to your stupid show!”

And that´s the final straw for you. You weren’t going to explode against her, or take your frustrations on her, but you were oh so very tired about this. Without any other reaction, you sighed as you saw the weight of her words dawning on her.

“That´s what you think? That it´s stupid?”

“No, love, I ―

“What do you even think about my job, Jennie?”

It wasn´t her answer, but rather, the lack of one that further hurt you.

Each time you were with your friends, you bragged about your girlfriend, the one and only Kim Jennie, member of BLACKPINK, Global Ambassador for Channel and Calvin Klein. Each time she got a new deal, a new song, a new anything, you would be there with a cake, a balloon and a gift, to celebrate with her, even when she got home past midnight. Each fucking time she wanted you there, in an awards show, in a fashion show, in an after-party of an event which gala you couldn´t go because it was ‘very exclusive’, you were there.

Where was she the first time you were banned of the platform because of a hater sending you an explicit photo through your Discord server? Where was she when you first reached ten thousand viewers? What about the fifty thousand? What about the viewer count record in Asia? Did her friends even know about your existence? About the status you held in her life?

“I´ll move out to my old apartment.” You don’t know where the bravado came from, but those words suddenly slipped out of your mouth.

You don’t just needed time, you needed space, you needed to get away from her because, suddenly, being around her felt as if you couldn´t breathe, not out of love, but out of anxiety. You became deaf to her words and her pleas, her words no longer mattered to you, her tears didn´t affect you anymore, you just wanted out of there.

It was if you were hypnotized for weeks on end, up until now. You sat in the front row of the event, in the area exclusive for streamers, your closest friends beside you, rooting for you, holding on to dear life to your shoulders as the host announced the category of the Most Popular Streamer.

When your name and your photo came on the big screen, you could hear the deafening screams of thousands of people in the audience screaming for you and laughing at the small compilation of clips they showed. And then, it happened, your name was mentioned as the winner of the category.

You can´t even remember the small walk from your place to the stage, nor can you remember the speech you gave, the only thing you remember is that you never mentioned her name, despite people wanting to know where she was when her partner was in the biggest point of their career.

Night had come around and you were left alone in your hotel room as you held the award in your hands. Your friends had just left the room after the small after-party you arranged, since none of you liked crowded places.

The trophy felt heavy in your hands. Finally, you had something to show everyone who ever doubted you how wrong they were; to your parents, to the false friends you met along the way, to her…

You left the trophy on the nightstand and took your phone from beside you on the bed, ready to browse through social media to interact with your fans. However, someone had other plans for you as your phone started ringing, showing a caller ID you hadn´t seen in some days.

You debated if you should answer or not, but then again, she was at a party; she was probably very drunk, but maybe she needed help getting back to her hotel room, and you were an idiot, or a good person, was there a difference at this point?

“Hello…” You said as you answered the call and only received a loud cry and a sob from the other line.

“(Y/NN)~.” She slurred your nickname. “I miss you!” Jennie shouted that last part and you got the phone away from your ear. “I love you~ Come back~ I´ll change!”

“Tell me you chose a designated driver.”

“No…”

“I´ll be there in ten minutes, do not drink another cup or shot!” You scolded her and hanged up the call.

With your phone in hand, you ran out of your room onto the room just in front of yours and knocked the door with all your might, hoping to wake up your friend. In a matter of seconds, your friend opened the door, somewhat drowsy and already in their pajamas.

“What the fuck ―

“I need you to give me a ride, fast.”

Sensing the urgency in your voice, they just nodded and ran into their room to pick up their wallet and keys before following you to the parking lot.

“Where to?”

They asked and you told them the place Jennie was. They didn´t even questioned why you needed to go there, or cared about how uncomfortable driving with crocs was. You needed to go somewhere, and they´ll take you there, even if you were going to the end of the world, they´ll be there; you couldn´t help to wish that Jennie was like that too.

By the time you got there, Jennie was apparently waiting for you, since, as soon as you jumped out of your friend´s car, Jennie got out of the club and onto your arms. Her friends were just following behind her, apparently in a better state than Jennie.

“Thanks for taking care of her.” You said, with irony of course, and that´s how you knew how drunk they were since they didn´t catch your tone. “Come on, I´ll take you ―

Suddenly, Jennie threw up the expensive clothes you wore to the show. You pulled her away from you and saw that you were indeed covered in her vomit and sighed. However, you had a job to do, and that was getting Jennie out of here before any paparazzi show up and see her in this state.

You exclaimed thousands of apologies as you got into your friend´s car backseat, trying your best to not dirty their seats. Your friend only looked at you with a feigned hatred and opened the windows to let the acidic smell out of the car before accelerating.

You told them to go back towards your hotel since Jennie would need someone to take care the next morning, and you needed a change of clothes. Fortunately, the ride back was peaceful, so peaceful that Jennie fell asleep on your shoulder, further dirtying you since she hadn´t cleaned her mouth, but at this point you knew you were going to shower and throw these clothes away.

When you arrived, you carried it to your room and thanked your friend, promising to invite them the most expensive dinner you could afford. You forced Jennie to wake up and took her to the bathroom; you helped cleaning her face, getting her make-up off and washing her teeth to get the taste off. You helped her change her clothes and stopped her from hugging you since you were still stained by what you assumed was barely digested tequila.

After you put her to sleep on your bed, it was your turn to clean yourself up. A nice warm shower and a new pair of clothes later, you laid down beside Jennie, knowing the next day will be a difficult one.

When Jennie first woke up and saw that she wasn´t in her room, she panicked and looked around, thinking someone had kidnapped her, but to her relief she discovered she wasn´t when she looked at the award you left in your nightstand. Then, she looked down and saw she was wearing your clothes, your distinctive smell filled her nostrils and made her feel safe again. Although, not a second later, a big headache attacked her and her stomach started churning up.

She ran to the bathroom and knelt in front of the WC, immediately emptying her stomach of whatever mixture of alcohol she drank. While she was throwing up, she felt a pair of hands holding her hair up and rubbing her back. She would have turned around and hugged you, but her stomach still needed to let some contents go.

When she finished throwing up, you helped her to her feet and moved her to the sink to help her clean her mouth and brush her teeth to get any remains off. Then, you guided her back to the bed as she saw a serum and some recently bought pills on the nightstand next to the award.

You helped her lying down on the bed and knelt beside it. “I guess you had a wild party last night” You tried to joke as you got the serum and opened it. “I´ll give you a serum first and some pills for the nausea, after that we´ll see about getting some light food for you to take medicine for your headache” You got a nausea pill out of its box and helped Jennie to sit up. “Open” She did as told and opened her mouth before you popped the pill inside of it, afterwards, you guided the serum to her lips, helping her drink the pill down.

Ever since the day you moved out, she regretted so many things. How she treated you, all the words she didn´t hold up to, all the moments she missed with you. She wished it hadn´t taken losing you to make her realize all of that, but she can´t turn back time, all she could do is to try to make things right.

But that would come after she recovered from her hangover…

[lemoncrushh]

The Entertainer - Track 01 - You Have a Great Collection

Summary: Set in the 70s, Sky Jones, a young woman from L.A., meets Harry Styles, an up-and-coming musician and frontman for the band Wildfire. Told in first person from Sky’s point of view, she shares her journey and what it’s like to fall for a rockstar.

STORY PAGE

Track 01 Word Count: 2k+

1976

My best friend Halo once told me that people come into your life for a reason. They may not stay forever, but your life is forever changed because they touched it. I didn’t know if that was true, and I suspected she was quoting one of her many poetry books, but I thought it was a nice idea.

Halo and I had a tiny apartment in Los Angeles, not exactly the best part of town, but it was ours and we were proud. We’d been friends since we were kids, bonding more in our teens over our mutual love for music. One night we went to a club and saw a couple of bands. One of them particularly stood out to me, some up and coming band that had just gotten signed. I’d thought they were great, true musicians with tons of potential, the singer obviously already a well-established front man who resembled Mick Jagger. I’d been excited to meet them after the show, but it wasn’t meant to be. Halo had started to feel ill and we had to leave early. I’d since forgotten the name of the band, but I remembered the singer’s name. Harry Styles. How perfect is that for a name? Nobody could forget you if your name was Harry Styles. It almost sounds made up, yet no one in their right mind would choose that as a stage name.

Two weeks later, I sat cross-legged on my rug flipping through my record albums when Halo walked in, suggesting we have some friends over. By “friends” I knew that was her way of saying she’d met a guy, but so as not to leave me out, she would invite some other people over too. I shrugged and told her that was fine. Our get togethers usually ended up growing anyway, as long as someone was providing the liquor and someone else provided the pot.

I heard the doorbell ring, but I didn’t bother to get up since I knew Halo would answer the door. A few minutes later, I heard her call my name.

“Sky! Our guests are here!”

I stood up, stopping in the doorway. My eyes widened when I saw who stood in the middle of my living room. The band. That band. That Harry Styles guy and the rest of his band.

“Hey,” I nervously waved my hand until they all looked at me.

“Hi there, love!” said one of the guys. Drummer I think. Oh great, he’s British, I thought. I had a soft spot for British accents.

“Sky, this is Lee, Mitch, Harry and Deacon. Wildfire.” Oh yeah. “Everyone, this is Sky.”

“Hello, Sky!” they all said in unison. Harry, however, stepped forward and held out his hand.

“Hi, I’m Harry,” he greeted. Great, he’s British too. And really fucking attractive.

“Nice to meet you,” I said casually, shaking his hand.

“Sorry to crash your little soiree, but Mitch here said we could come with.”

“Oh, right on,” I replied, having no clue what he just said.

Mitch I learned later, the lead guitarist of the band, had somehow run into Halo at some music festival in the park where she’d recognized him from the club. Leave it to Halo.

The evening was filled with drinks, smokes and laughs. I liked all of the guys almost immediately, and eventually some of our other friends and neighbors joined us as well.

A little before midnight, I went to my room to fetch something, probably some more rolling papers, when I heard a knock behind me. Harry stood leaning against my doorway, an easy grin on his face. I’d decided I liked his face. It was kind, yet masculine with a nice combination of angles and curves. And I really liked his smile.

“Hey,” I said. “C’mon in.”

Harry sauntered in, one long bootleg after the other, stopping next to me at my dresser.

“This is your room?” he inquired.

“Yeah,” I nodded.

Harry looked around, seeming to inspect it all - the Led Zeppelin poster above my bed, the white comforter and lace pillow shams, the stuffed animals on the shelf, the tambourine on my nightstand, the beaded curtain that separated my closet, the collection of trinkets and frames on my bureau.

“Nice,” he nodded.

Then he noticed my guitar in the corner.

“You play?”

“A little.”

Harry grabbed it and sat on the bed.

“It might need tuning,” I said just as I noticed he was doing just that. When he seemed satisfied, he plucked some strings and went into a chord progression. It sounded familiar. But when he started singing low, I recognized it as one of his band’s songs that they performed at the club.

“Meet me in the hallway Meet me in the hallway I just left your bedroom Give me some morphine Is there any more to do”

I leaned against my dresser, fiddling absentmindedly with the locket around my neck, watching Harry give a private performance to me, even if he barely even knew I was in the room. When he finished, he laid the guitar on the bed and looked up at me. I smiled.

“I like that song.”

“Yeah? Thanks.”

“Did you write it?”

Harry nodded. “I wrote all our songs.”

“Far out.”

A dimple dipped in his cheek when he smiled at me, and I felt myself blush. Harry rose from the bed then and bent down in front of my stack of albums.

“May I?”

“Of course,” I gestured.

Harry sat down, crossing his long legs, and went through each and every one of my records. The Beatles. The Rolling Stones. Elvis Presley. The Who. Led Zeppelin. Queen. Joni Mitchell. Eagles. Elton John. Billy Joel. Gladys Knight & The Pips. Stevie Wonder. Jimi Hendrix. Bob Dylan. Linda Ronstadt, Fleetwood Mac, The Temptations. Jim Croce, The Carpenters and Bread. Rod Stewart, Al Green, Kiss and The Doors. Simon & Garfunkel, Van Morrison, James Taylor, The Jackson 5. All of it. When he’d completed the stack, he looked up at me with child-like eyes.

“You have a great collection.”

“Thanks.”

Running a hand through his hair, he hesitated before asking his next question.

“Can I play something?”

“Please do.”

Pinching his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger, Harry flipped through a few more albums before settling on one. Rising from the floor, he slid the vinyl out of the sleeve and gently set it on the turntable. Then with great precision, he let the needle fall.

I recognized the low sound, the slow build in the gloomy track. He’d chosen Elton John’s Goodbye Yellow Brick Road.

“Good choice,” I remarked.

“You’re a big music fan.” It wasn’t a question, but an acknowledgement, a statement of fact.

“Very much.”

“Me too.”

I sat on the bed then as I watched Harry walk around the room. He picked up the frames on my dresser, inspecting each one before setting them back down. I wasn’t sure what it was about my bedroom, but Harry seemed to be very comfortable in it. Picking up the last photo, he held it out to me.

“Is that your dog?” he asked.

“No, that was Halo’s dog. A long time ago. I think I took that photo in junior high. His name was Comet,” I giggled.

Harry furrowed his brows and glared at me.

“I don’t get it.”

“You know…Haley’s comet. Halo’s real name is Haley.”

“Oh.”

I giggled harder, maybe due to nerves, or maybe due to the weed. I had to admit Harry looked really cute when he was confused, like he’d just realized he’d been left out of some inside joke.

“Why do they call her Halo, anyway?”

“That’s kind of my fault,” I replied. “It’s supposed to be a reference to T. Rex.”

“What?”

“You know. ‘Bang A Gong’. The ‘hubcap diamond star halo’ line.”

“Oh. Yeah, I know the song.”

I shrugged. “Halo’s a big Marc Bolan fan. So a few years ago I just kind of started calling her that and she liked it, so it stuck.”

Harry nodded, a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth.

“I’m gonna take a wild stab at it that Sky is not your real name either.”

I shifted my gaze as I sucked in my lips. Harry chuckled, but asked no further questions. Instead, he made his way around my entire room, picking up things and setting them down while singing along to Elton John.

“Love lies bleeding in my hands…”

That was the first time Harry Styles was at my apartment. But it wasn’t the last.

Halo and Mitch had sort of become a thing…though what thing exactly I couldn’t tell you. Halo had always been a little more on the wild side than I was, although I liked to think I could hold my own. But…to put it nicely…Halo was kind of a groupie.

So because Mitch was at our place a lot, so was Harry. Lee and Deacon tagged along sometimes, and a few of those times they had a girl with them, but most of the time it was just Harry and Mitch. They seemed to be a package deal. Like Mick and Keith. I was okay with it. I liked them both, even if they did drink all our beer and smoke all our weed. They were good company.

One night after Halo and I went to watch the band’s rehearsal, they all joined us back at our place. We sat around the table playing cards until the chicks Lee and Deacon had brought, Sylvia and Jennifer I think, got bored and asked to be taken home. Shortly thereafter, Mitch and Halo snuck off to her room.

“Are you bored?” I asked from across the empty bottle-cluttered table.

“No. Are you?”

“No.”

“Good. Then I’ll stay.”

Harry rose from his chair and crossed the carpet to the living room where he turned on the television. I smiled, even if it was just to the back of his head.

“Midnight Special’s on,” he said.

“Cool.”

I joined him on the sofa where we watched Helen Reddy and Fleetwood Mac. During a commercial I got up to use the restroom and when I returned, I noticed Harry made it a point to scoot closer to me. He laid his head on my shoulder while Christine McVie sang “I’m over my head…but it sure feels nice,” and once again, I found myself smiling.

I thought he might be asleep when the show was ending, but Harry surprised me by nuzzling my neck. I felt no lips, but he was definitely trying to get my attention, like a little lapdog.

“Sky?” I heard him murmur.

“Yes?”

“Can I stay here tonight?”

“Um…” Did he…mean…with me? Or…?

“I’ll just crash on your couch,” he answered my nonverbal question. “I’m just beat, and I don’t feel like driving home.”

“Oh. Yeah. Sure. No problem. I’ll…get you a pillow and a blanket.”

“Thanks.”

I fetched the items from the linen closet while Harry went to the bathroom. While I was tucking the sheet into the cushions, he returned.

“Aw babe, you didn’t have to do all that.”

“Couch is kinda itchy,” I shrugged.

“You’re lovely. Thank you.”

“No problem.”

Harry sat on the makeshift bed and kicked off his shoes. When he laid down, I covered him with a blanket, laughing at his socked feet sticking out over the arm of the sofa. He smirked at me and wiggled his toes.

“You sure it’s okay?” I asked him.

“Of course. I’m eternally grateful.”

“Okay then. Goodnight.”

“Night.”

I turned towards my room, stopping to turn off the light.

“Harry?” I whispered in the darkness.

“Yeah?”

“You’re welcome to crash on my couch anytime.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he said with a yawn. “Goodnight.”

No telling how long I lied awake in bed that night. A couple times I could hear a few squeaks and moans coming from the other side of the wall, but that’s not what kept me awake. I wondered if Harry was sleeping. And if he wasn’t, what he might be thinking about. And if he was, what he might be dreaming about. And if either of those things included me.

This was a short little chapter, but it gets better lol. Hope you liked it.

Songs mentioned here:

Harry Styles - Meet Me In The Hallway (obviously)

T. Rex - Bang a Gong (Get It On)

Elton John - Funeral For A Friend/Love Lies Bleeding

Fleetwood Mac - Over My Head

FEEDBACK IS LOVE xo

[astroaurastuff]

changed my skyline in mcla a bit teehee

[nightbunnysong]

synthwave song recommendations?

I HAVE SO MANY

Resonance by Home

Curious Alice by Memorex Memories

Stasis by Eagle Eyed Tiger

Thanks for Listening by Memorex Memories

Los Angeles by The Midnight

WeMoveForward by The Midnight

Point Club by Yoens

Nightdrive With You by Anorak

Gloria by The Midnight

Fantasy Park by College

Equinox by admo

Ocean Drive by Miami Nights 1984

SimpsonWave1995 by FrankJavCee

drifting by Night Tapes

[lboogie1906]

Bobby Day (July 1, 1930 -July 27, 1990) Rock and Roll and R&B singer/songwriter/producer and multi-instrumental artist was known for his only major hit “Rockin’ Robin”. In 1958, the single, written by Leon Rene under the pseudonym Jimmie Thomas, reached #1 on the R&B chart, #2 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart, and sold over one million copies.

He was born in Fort Worth. His mother was Julie Jennings. He moved to Los Angeles at age 15 and began performing with the Hollywood Flames at Otis’s Barrelhouse Club in Watts.

He made his first recording, “Young Girl” with the Hollywood Flames. The song was released in 1950. He had minor music success as the lead singer of the Hollywood Flames, performing under the stage name of Bobby Day. Their hit song “Buzz, Buzz, Buzz” which he wrote, reached #11 on the R&B charts. He formed his group, the Satellites, which backed him on “Little Bitty Pretty One”. He and Earl Nelson performed as the duo Bob and Earl. He and Earl recorded “Gee Whiz,” and “Harlem Shuffle” under his real name, Robert Bryd.

He wrote and recorded “Little Bitty Pretty One” but it was made popular by Thurston Harris whose version hit #6 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart. The single was recorded by Frankie Lymon, followed by Clyde McPhatter. The Jackson Five recorded the song, which reached #13 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart and #2 on the Billboard R&B chart. He wrote and recorded “Over and Over” which climbed to #40 on the pop chart. He wrote and recorded “The Bluebird, The Buzzard, and the Oriole,” and “That’s All I Want”. He recorded on several record labels including Rendezvous, RCA, Sure-Shot, and Jama Records.

He appeared on several variety shows in the 1950s, 1960s, and 1970s including American Bandstand and The Midnight Special.

He was survived by his wife Jackie and their four children. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence

[nothums-from-tj]

If anyone wants it <3

ED and drug TW for some songs (they’re in the titles)

Written playlist below (will be continuously edited):

“Rebel Love Song” - Black Veil Brides; “Check Yes, Juliet” - We The Kings; “Perfect” - Mariana’s Trench; “Ribs” - Lorde; “Stacy’s Dad” - Sub-Radio (“Stacy’s Mom” parody); “Can’t Help Falling in Love” - Elvis Presley; “Juliet” - Cavetown; “Accidentally in Love” - Counting Crows; “Hey There Delilah” - Plain White T’s; “Habits (Stay High)” - Tove Lo; “Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High?” - Arctic Monkeys; “Astoria” - Mariana’s Trench; “Mary On A Cross” - Ghost; “Ballad of Mona Lisa” - Panic! At The Disco; “Nikki” - Forever The Sickest Kids; “Queen of Hearts” - We The Kings; “I Wouldn’t Mind” - He Is We; “Haven’t Had Enough” - Mariana’s Trench; “We Got Something to Talk About” - Alight The Night; “If I Had You” - Adam Lambert; “Whataya Want from Me” - Adam Lambert; “LEMONS” - Brye; “Tongue Tied” - Grouplove; “This Is Home” - Cavetown; “Team” - Lorde; “Fall For You” - Secondhand Serenade; “Dirty Little Secret” - All American Rejects; “High School Never Ends” - Bowling For Soup; “That’s What You Get” - Paramore; “Dark Side” - Kelly Clarkson; “Angels Like You” - Miley Cyrus; “Don’t Call Me At All” - Flatsound; “Missing You” - All Time Low; “Piece Of Your Heart” - Mayday Parade; “She’s Kinda Hot” - 5 Seconds Of Summer; “I Go Hungry” - Mother Mother; “Like Real People Do” - Hozier; “Heat Waves” - Glass Animals; “Boy In The Bubble” - Alec Benjamin; “Soap” - Melanie Martinez; “when the party’s over” - Billie Eilish; “Peace” - O.A.R.; “Looks Red, Tastes Blue” - Mayday Parade; “Bruised and Scarred” - Mayday Parade; “Stay” - Mayday Parade; “Pompeii” - Bastille; “Demons” - Imagine Dragons; “Build God, Then We’ll Talk” - Panic! At The Disco; “Sometime Around Midnight” - The Airborne Toxic Event; “Girl All the Bad Guys Want” - Bowling For Soup; “Running Away” - AM; “ocean eyes” - Billie Eilish; “Weapons” - Emily Kinney; “All To Myself” - Mariana’s Trench; “Somewhere Only We Know” - Keane; “party favor” - Billie Eilish; “Bad Girls Club” - Falling In Reverse; “I Love You So” - The Walters; “death bed (coffee for your head)” - Powfu; “Battle Scars” - Paradise Fears; “Chasing Cars” - Snow Patrol; “Beautiful Boy (Darling Boy)” - John Lennon; “The Name Of The Game” - “Mamma Mia!” cast (slight twist on the ABBA song); “Happy Together” - The Turtles; “From Here to Mars” - We The Kings; “It’s Time” - Imagine Dragons; “The Drug In Me Is You” - Falling In Reverse; “I Think We’re Alone Now” - Billie Joe Armstrong; “As You Go” - Red; “River Flows in You” - Yiruma; “On Top Of The World” - Imagine Dragons; “Face Down” - The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus; “Monster” - Imagine Dragons; “BURN IT DOWN” - LINKIN PARK; “Runnin’” - Adam Lambert; “My Demons” - STARSET; “Hey Lover!” - Wabie; “She Had The World” - Panic! At The Disco; “Bloody Mary” - Lady Gaga; “Pocketful of Sunshine” - Natasha Bedingfield; “Young Dumb & Broke” - Khalid; “Numb” - Linkin Park; “Pink (Freak)” - Elliot Lee; “Shower” - Becky G; “Can I Have a Ride Home? I’m at a Party and I Don’t Know Any1” - carpetgarden; “Every Morning” - Sugar Ray

[gabrielisdead]

what are your favorite songs & music artists?

currently these are the songs I listen to the most:

Christian Death - Spiritual Cramp (Halloween 2019 version)

Dimmu Borgir - Progenies of the Great Apocalypse

The Awakening - The Dark Romantics

Selofan - Billie was a vampire

The Clash - Guns of Brixton

DevilDriver - Grinfucked

Download - Carrier Tone

My fav bands:

Specimen, Alien Sex Fiend, Killing Joke, The Cramps, Switchblade Symphony, Scary Bitches, Christian Death, London After Midnight, System of a Down, Mayhem, KMFDM, The Damned, Bauhaus, Skinny Puppy, Misfits, Aurelio Voltaire, The Fuzztones, Selofan, Hante., Los Straitjackets, Deathhawk, Nox Arcana

From the Hungarian scene:

Erőszakszervezet, Aurora, HétöznaPI CSAlódások, C.A.F.B., Toportyán Férgek, Junkies, F.O. System, Böiler, Belga, Barackca, Sex Action

Anomalies in my music taste:

The Black Angels, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, Oingo Boingo, Mild Orange, ABBA, Glass Animals, Alt-J, Will Wood and the Tapeworms

[sparklecinnamonbunny]

Qwispy!

Your OC accidentally helped a mob boss change a flat while transporting a corpse and was rewarded with a "favor." They then find themselves in a position where they need to make that call. -What is the situation and how bad does it have to be to make that call? -Is it a successful mission or does it require a few steps to complete? -What if the mob wont let your OC go afterwards? Is your OC willing to make peace with that fact or find a way out of it?

This one got away from me I'm not gonna lie. It's close to 2000 words. I'll RB this with the AO3 link once I post it over there. This prompt was *perfect* for my old RP character, so I couldn't help putting her (and her right hand man) in as supporting characters.

Under the cut: Envy Greenberg's Dance with the Devil.

Skid Row, Los Angeles, California - 1989

Envy turns the bolt and yanks on the front door to make sure it won’t budge. Another late, hectic night on the books. Running a bar (especially a dive like Cobalt) is simultaneously the most rewarding and most frustrating thing she’s done in her life. The day that she doesn’t have to get physical with a customer will be… well, probably the day she opens another bar.

She does another sweep and lets herself out the back. Go home. Sleep. Eat. Do it again. Before her keys are out of the lock, she sees a car rolling up in the steel door’s reflection.

“I know you ain’t bouta rob me right now…” she mutters, popping the door back open and grabbing her nail bat from inside. Won’t stop someone who’s really hurting for cash, but it’ll make them think twice about it. Envy locks up again and slowly walks out into the lot, bat at hand.

A long, black sedan sits in the middle of her parking lot, tilted down on one side. Flat tire in the back. The driver steps out and stares. Tall white dude, medium build. Nice suit. Either a Family man (and she thought she left those on the East Coast) or an important cop. She’s not sure which is worse. If it’s the former, she could probably take him if he’s not carrying. The latter would just take a while. Probably want to see her paperwork. Then he’d want a drink. She’d be lucky to get home before the sun’s up.

Her keys jingle when she moves. He whirls around. “Hey! You work here?”

“We’re closed.” Maybe if she keeps it short and doesn’t stop walking, she can get out of this.

“I don’t want trouble. I got a flat, was wondering if you’d help a pal out. I can make it worth your while.” The only thing that’s worth her while right now is her bed. Envy keeps walking. “Didn’t I see you at that protest last month?”

“No you didn’t!” She calls over her shoulder. He thinks he’s real slick, huh? He didn’t see her if she was there, that’s for sure. There might not be that many big black queens with battle vests and locs this side of town, but this one kept her damn face covered.

“Listen!” He exclaims as she reaches her trunk. “I got friends in high places and no spare in the trunk. You help me with this, I’ll scratch your back one day. I promise.”

“Here’s some help: There’s a pay phone down 6th. Call your friends. Or a tow.”

“This isn’t the kind of thing I can trust a tow with. Please. I'm good for it.”

Against her better judgment, Envy puts her spare on the mobster’s car for $20 and a phone number scrawled on an old receipt. The guy vows over and over that if she calls, he’ll help her, but she’s not counting on it.

Hollywood, Los Angeles, California - 2006

Envy pushes up her reading glasses and rubs the bridge of her nose. Agreeing to add playrooms to her new goth club sounded like such a good idea from the outset. Club Hedonism’s been looking for a place to run secondary events and host meetings during their more ‘controversial’ events (looking at you, Willy’s Wild ‘n’ Wet Watersports Week), and it seemed obvious to offer Midnight up.

Unfortunately, the City of Los Angeles has decided to fuck her instead. The building changes she’ll have to make in order to accommodate the playrooms have totally changed the scope of the project. For once, it’s not a money issue, thanks to Hedonism’s contract and her new submissive’s insistence to help— She needs to get new permits before any work can continue, and the city’s not budging.

She starts to punch in the submissive’s number (Isn’t her brother Dethklok’s manager? Maybe she can get a referral for a better lawyer. The one she’s got now hasn’t done shit), then stops, pulling a crumpled receipt out of her desk drawer. That’s right, the time she changed a mobster’s tire. Well, if the guy’s still alive, maybe he can pull some strings with the city. That’s what they do in the Family, isn’t it?

After two rings, a woman with an alluring voice answers. Envy almost hangs up at her Hello? but figures there’s no harm in trying.

“I’m looking for a Rob Muratori?”

Her tone drops instantly. “How did you get this number?”

“He gave it to me after I changed a flat for him in ‘89. I understand if—“

She gives a world-weary sigh and says, “You’re lucky he’s here. Hold on. Rob, vieni subito qui!”

They shout back and forth in Italian for a moment, then Envy hears the telltale sound of a phone being handed over.

“Hey, this is Muratori. No funny business or I’ll find ya!” He laughs, but it’s clear he’s serious about it.

“You might not remember me. I changed a flat for you outside a dive bar called Cobalt in 1989. You gave me this number and said I could call you for a favor.”

“No, I remember you,” he assures, warm tone not quite hiding the menace beneath. “You’re Envy, right? Envy Greenberg. Last weekend, you hosted a rope tutorial at Club Hedonism.”

Envy holds her hand over the phone’s receiver and murmurs, “What the fuck?” to herself before bringing it back to her ear. She replies weakly, “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Cool, just making sure I got it straight. What can I do for you, Envy?”

“Do you know anybody that could help me get some permits through the city? Zoning’s blocking my new club. I didn’t really know where else to turn.”

“As a matter of fact, I do. My uh, friend that answered the phone is real good with contracts. She can grease some wheels downtown and get your project back on track.”

She should be glad it’s working out, but she feels like she’s signing a pact with the Devil. Envy forces a smile into her words as she replies, “Great.”

They make plans for his lawyer-friend to meet her at Club Hedonism the following weekend, as it turns out she’s a member. Envy books them a room. Some things are best discussed in complete privacy. Before they get off the line, Rob makes sure to tell her not to invite anyone else along. It kills her plan to invite her new submissive as buffer before it can crawl.

She waits in the negotiation room for what feels like an hour, jittering her knees until they might bruise. When Muratori’s friend finally shows, she’s not like any lawyer Envy’s ever seen. The lingerie is typical Hedonism fare, but she struts on platform heels like she just got off the pole. Let alone the Az-worthy blue hair. In fact, she would’ve asked her to leave if it weren’t for the gangster rose tatted on one of her arms and the hard look on her face.

“I trust you brought the paperwork,” she says in lieu of introduction. Her voice is back to sultry, but it doesn’t have the same effect now that she can hear the criminal underneath. She’s the sort of fierce beauty that Envy’d normally go silly for. It isn’t getting her blood pumping this time.

“Yeah. Plans and stuff too, in case you need to double check I’m applying for the right zoning permits.”

“That won’t be a problem. Rob’s taking care of my retainer for this, but I do still need you to sign a few things.” She sniffles a little. She bets she knows where that retainer’s going.

“For sure.” It would’ve been nice to have Sunday here, if only to make sure she isn’t signing herself into a corner. That’s probably why Muratori insisted she meet the lawyer alone. 

She learns the woman’s name through the paperwork, at least. Darian Ambrosia. Envy would prefer to take her time and read everything over, but Darian’s piercing stare makes her rush. Steel grey eyes follow her every movement. Envy starts to sweat. Stiletto nails drum the table with coked out impatience. Envy reads a little faster.

When they finish, Darian softens those killer eyes and asks, “I try not to mix business and pleasure, but are you taking clients right now?”

Thank God for Sunday, Envy thinks and answers, “Not right now, I just took on a new submissive. It’ll be a while before I’m available for new play partners again.”

“I wonder if Ms. Mourning knows how lucky she really is. Let her know Rob and I are fans.”

“Uh-huh.” Damn, they’re gonna bring her subs into this? Guess it’s hard to get at her family when they’re all on the East Coast.

Despite the thug behavior, Darian and Rob are as good as their word. Envy only has to live with a pit in her stomach for three weeks before the permits go through and she’s back to expressing her stress with a sledgehammer. She stays glancing over her shoulder, though. A few years later, the other shoe drops.

Las Vegas, Nevada - 2010

The downturn hits Turquoise the hardest of her establishments. Figures. Vegas is not quite as recession-proof as Hollywood, and a decrease in tourists means a decrease in money all around. She’s having the opposite of a pleasant vacation. Laying off a bunch of cocktail waitresses isn’t her idea of a good time. Doing it in person with severance is the best she can do, and even that’s not as much as her girls deserve.

All this to say that by the end of her tear-soaked, chlorine-scented day, Envy’s feeling rotten to the core. All she wants to do is get in her car and spend the five hour drive back to LA shouting along to old Misfits CDs, but God has something else in mind. 

There’s a couple in dark suits leaning against the car next to hers. Darian’s hair is platinum blonde now, but she can’t miss the gunslinger’s glares on her and her companion’s faces.

“Mr. Muratori, Ms. Ambrosia. Enjoying a weekend getaway?”

“Something like that,” Rob Muratori agrees, flashing his killer’s grin. “Get in the van.”

“I’m good. I got a long drive back to LA, and my submissive’s waiting on me for an appointment.”

“That’s interesting, since the news won’t shut up about Nathan Explosion proposing to her at Paris Disneyland,” Darian drawls, checking her manicure. The tattoos have crawled down to her hands now. Between those and the hungry look in her cheeks, Envy doubts she’s been doing much legal work lately.

“Ms. Greenberg, it’ll be easier for everyone if you come along. Your car will still be here when you come back.”

Rob’s reassurance does little to soothe Envy’s nerves. She didn’t want to get mixed up in this to begin with, and she’s not going to do favors back and forth with them forever. He’s skinnier than she remembers, too. She stands firm. Might be able to take him on if he tries to grab her.

He shifts to put a hand on his hip and Envy catches a glimpse of a pistol inside his suit jacket. Never mind, she’s going along for this one. “You promise I’ll be home in time for dinner?”

“If everything goes like it should, I’ll make you dinner myself. You like Italian?”

“Who doesn’t?”

It turns out he needs her as backup muscle for a deal. She stands at a door with a gun on her hip while Rob and Darian ‘convince’ a debtor to pay up. No blood is spilled, yet she feels filthy once they’re done. She’ll be scrubbing herself raw in the shower tonight.

Rob’s pleased with the results and promises Envy another favor. She silently vows never to be down bad enough to take it.

[valenunez24]

TAYLOR SWIFT WINS GRAMMY IN HER CATEGORY.

Taylor Swift made history this Sunday in Los Angeles by winning the fourth Grammy of her career for the album of the year with her "Midnights", at a gala that had women as winners. The 66th edition of the Grammy Awards was held at the Arena in Los Angeles on February 4, 2024.

Taylor Swift manages to make history at the 2024 Grammys by achieving her fourth award for the best album of the year.

In my opinion, it was a very good album, which was released on October 21, 2022. It had a great impact with the girls. His concerts on The Eras Tour were a success as well as his music, which is very good.

MBAPPÉ INFORMS PSG THAT HE WILL LEAVE IN JUNE AND ASSURES THEM THAT HE HAS NOT YET SIGNED WITH MADRID.

On Tuesday morning, Kylian Mbappé took another step in the liturgy of his departure from Paris Saint-Germain after seven seasons. He met with the president of the club, Nasser Al-Khelaifi, for about an hour in the new PSG sports city in Poissy and, according to sources familiar with the conversation, he confirmed what he had already told him in writing in a letter he sent in May last year: he leaves when the season is over. At the meeting, the specific economic conditions in which the exit is going to be articulated were left pending. It even took months to close the way in which Mbappé will somehow compensate PSG, despite the fact that his contract expires on June 30. When they close that aspect, they will make a joint communication.

I think Mbappé has given Paris Saint Germain a good career for several years. And it's time for him to make his fame and grow up as a professional soccer player in a team more than his level. Real Madrid and Paris Saint Germain are very well-cataloged teams, however Real Madrid statistically speaking, has more goals, goals per minute, shots on goal, and successful passes.

THROUGH YOUR GAZE, NEW MOVIE!

The love of Raquel and Ares in the literary trilogy of the Venezuelan author Adriana Godoy captured thousands of readers and has also repeated its success on the screen with the adaptations starring Clara Galle and Julio Peña. After its first two installments, the third film entitled Through Your Look reends the audience with the couple who has faced several tests of their relationship. These are facts you should know about the romance film that will be released on February 23, 2024.

I think it will be a good movie, since the first 2 movies were quite good and with an excellent plot. I believe that many people with a long-distance relationship will feel very identified with the movie. Since such a love is difficult to carry.

THE KEY SPRING/SUMMER 2024 TRENDS TO KNOW NOW.

The most talked-about collection at the spring/summer 2024 fashion shows was the one that wasn’t there. Phoebe Philo, yet to unveil the first fruits of her eponymous line, which had been originally slated to debut online in September some six years after she departed Céline, dominated the fashion news cycle throughout the month. As the spring/summer 2024 fashion trends piled up, designers waited nervously to see if their collections would be eclipsed by a spontaneous digital drop from a woman many revere as fashion’s messiah.

Statement gowns are out and discreet chic – buoyed up with wardrobe staples including trench coats, pencil skirts, trouser suits and good jeans – is in. At the fashion search engine Tagwalk, which scanned more than 11,000 images from the spring/summer 2024 shows in New York, London, Milan and Paris, looks that were tagged “minimalism” were up 46 per cent on the previous spring/summer 2023 season. Logo-tagged looks, meanwhile, were down 52 per cent, while ’90s-tagged looks were up 42 per cent – the latter was also the most searched tag. With the 25th anniversary of the untimely death of Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy coming up next year, meanwhile, the Succession-fuelled “quiet luxury” trend is segueing into something that more closely resembles the understated ’90s-New-York elegance of the former Calvin Klein publicist.

In my opinion, this new fashion that is approaching is perfect, I think all women will look beautiful, highlighting their beautiful body. Creating more new styles with the passage of time and looking incredible.