#no yes i mean almost exclusively this one song

[amethystarachnid]

30. Holiday Movie Night with the Avengers (or X-Men) – The Avengers decide to have a Christmas movie marathon for the whole family. Your character is skeptical about the cheesy movies, but what happens when they get caught up in the holiday spirit?

My character is Tony Stark, please, and I'm a female reader ❤️ I was thinking that maybe they are best friends, and seeing how happy the reader is watching those movies, he'll realize he has feelings for her and in the next day he'll invite her to a date inspired in some movie scene and tell her he loves her and ask her to be his girlfriend and she'll say yes because she loves him too, and please, lots of kisses 🤭 ohh, and they can turn "watching movies" into their cute little tradition too 😊

Thank you 😊

MOVIE NIGHT & KISSES

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL Holiday special

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 6.7k

ᯓ★ Summary: what the ask said

ᯓ★ TW(s): nothing

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The living room of the Avengers compound looks like a Christmas card threw up all over it. Tony’s doing, obviously. You step inside, arms loaded with snacks—because you don’t trust Tony not to have stocked up exclusively on the weird gourmet stuff no one likes—and immediately trip over a tiny reindeer statue.

“Why?” you ask the air. Tony’s voice floats down the hallway before his actual appearance.

“Why what? Be more specific, or I’ll assume you’re asking why I’m fabulous.”

You roll your eyes and dump your cargo of chips, popcorn, and candy on the coffee table. “Why is there a deer the size of a toddler lying in wait for my ankles? It’s assault.”

Tony finally enters, grinning like he’s just pulled off a massive heist instead of, you know, redecorating. “You mean Blitzen? He’s festive. And you should really watch where you’re walking. Consider it a training exercise.”

“Blitzen,” you deadpan, already fishing around for scissors to open the snack bags. “You named the little menace Blitzen.”

“Of course, I did. What do you take me for, a savage? Anyway, what’s that—Pringles? Ugh, so pedestrian. Don’t worry, I’ve got foie gras chips in the kitchen.”

“Tony, no,” you say, cutting him off. “No one’s eating foie gras anything during movie night.”

“Fine. Keep your proletariat palate,” he huffs, but there’s no bite to it as he snags a bag of M&Ms and flops onto the couch like it’s claimed him.

The others start trickling in soon after, voices overlapping in that chaotic yet strangely comfortable way you’ve come to expect from these gatherings. Natasha is the first to spot the reindeer and gives you a knowing look.

“You trip over that thing yet?” she asks.

“Blitzen almost ended me,” you confirm, earning a snort.

“Is Tony naming inanimate objects again?” Steve asks, clearly trying and failing to hide a smile as he surveys the chaos.

“Not just naming them,” you say, gesturing at the garlands, twinkling lights, and a giant Santa hat perched on one corner of the TV. “He’s created an entire ecosystem.”

Thor, arriving last but with the biggest entrance, spots the reindeer and scoops it up like it’s an actual living thing. “What a curious creature!” he declares, cradling it as though it might respond. “May I keep it?”

“Absolutely not,” Tony says, looking horrified. “Blitzen is part of the ambiance.”

You try not to laugh, but it bubbles out anyway, and Tony shoots you a mock glare. “This is the respect I get from my so-called best friend? Unbelievable.”

“Your ‘best friend’ just saved movie night from foie gras chips, so I think I’ve earned the right to laugh,” you retort, throwing yourself onto the couch next to him.

The movie selection process devolves into chaos, as usual. Clint tries to sneak in a Christmas horror movie, Natasha threatens to walk out if it’s not something at least tolerable, and Steve insists on something “classic,” which somehow leads to a passionate argument over whether Die Hard qualifies as a Christmas movie.

Through it all, Tony leans closer to you, voice low. “If this debate goes on for another five minutes, I say we hijack the remote and put on Iron Man 3. Christmas and a superhero. Win-win.”

You snort, nudging him with your shoulder. “Tempting, but I don’t think your ego could survive the fallout.”

“Oh, please,” he replies, tossing an arm over the back of the couch—dangerously close to your shoulders, but you don’t mind. “My ego’s indestructible.”

Eventually, the group settles on a compromise: Home Alone, mostly because Thor declares he’s never seen it and everyone agrees watching his reactions will be worth it.

As the opening credits roll, Tony leans closer. “This is cozy,” he says, a bit quieter than usual. His fingers graze yours on the couch, almost hesitant.

It’s a small moment, but it feels like the beginning of something. You glance at him, catching his slight smirk and the way his eyes flick toward the screen—but not before they linger on you just a second too long.

“Yeah,” you reply, smiling despite yourself. “It is.”

Kevin McCallister’s family is in full-on holiday chaos, and Thor is already narrating everything happening on screen like it’s the most thrilling battle sequence he’s ever witnessed.

“This small one is quite cunning,” Thor declares as Kevin rigs up a rudimentary alarm system using toy cars and string. “His enemies shall rue the day they underestimated him!”

“Thor, buddy,” Clint says between mouthfuls of popcorn, “we’re ten minutes in. The burglars haven’t even shown up yet.”

“Then they are fools!” Thor retorts, clutching the reindeer statue—Blitzen—to his chest like a comfort object. “He will outwit them with his warrior’s guile.”

Tony leans closer to you, and you can feel the warmth of him even before he murmurs, “You ever feel like we’re babysitting a very excitable golden retriever?”

You laugh, low and quiet. “A golden retriever with lightning powers. No pressure.”

He chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest where his arm is still casually draped over the back of the couch. You don’t even notice when his fingers start to toy idly with the fabric of your sleeve.

The movie continues, and Thor’s commentary only grows more dramatic. When Kevin sets up his elaborate booby traps, Thor sits up straighter, his eyes gleaming with admiration.

“A master tactician!” he declares, and when Kevin’s paint can swings down the stairs to clobber one of the burglars, Thor actually roars with laughter. “A fine blow! Truly, this child deserves to sit at the table of warriors!”

Natasha leans toward you, whispering just loud enough for you and Tony to hear. “We should tell Thor that Kevin’s real superpower is abandonment issues.”

Tony snorts into his drink, and you elbow him lightly. “Be nice,” you say, even though you’re stifling your own laughter.

The movie progresses, and somewhere between Kevin faking a party with mannequins and setting Harry’s head on fire, you start to shift closer to Tony without even realizing it. It’s not a conscious thing—you just naturally lean toward the warmth of him, especially when his arm slides from the back of the couch to drape over your shoulders.

You think it’s just Tony being Tony—he’s always been a tactile kind of guy, quick with a casual touch or a teasing nudge—but you don’t notice the way he freezes for half a second before relaxing again, his fingers brushing lightly against your upper arm.

The truth is, Tony’s barely paying attention to the movie anymore. He’s too busy fighting the sudden, overwhelming realization that he’s completely, undeniably in love with you. It hits him somewhere between Thor’s boisterous laughter and the way your hair catches the soft glow of the Christmas lights strung across the room.

He’s Tony Stark. He’s built suits that fly, survived impossible odds, and traded snark with gods—but the idea of telling you how he feels? That terrifies him.

So, instead, he lets himself have this moment. He lets himself enjoy the way you’re snuggled against his side, your head resting lightly against his shoulder, your laughter bright and unguarded as you watch the movie.

You, of course, are blissfully unaware of the internal crisis unfolding next to you. You’re too busy giggling at Thor’s indignant outrage when one of the burglars steps on a nail.

“That would never pierce true Asgardian steel!” Thor exclaims, pounding the arm of the couch for emphasis. “These mortal feet are most fragile.”

“It’s a movie, big guy,” Clint says, tossing a popcorn kernel in Thor’s direction. “You’re supposed to suspend disbelief.”

Thor catches the kernel mid-air with surprising grace and pops it into his mouth. “A strange custom,” he mutters, but he settles back down, still cradling Blitzen.

As the movie nears its climax, you shift slightly, tucking your legs up onto the couch. Without thinking, you rest your head more firmly against Tony’s shoulder, and his arm tightens around you just a fraction.

“This is nice,” you murmur, half to yourself.

“Yeah,” Tony replies, his voice softer than you’re used to hearing. “It is.”

He doesn’t look at the screen. He doesn’t need to. The way you fit against him, the way your laughter feels like the warmest part of the room—that’s all he cares about. But he’s Tony Stark, so he masks it with a quip. “Although I’m starting to feel personally attacked by how much Kevin loves duct tape.”

You laugh, swatting at his chest lightly. “If the suit fits…”

“I’ll have you know duct tape is a versatile and invaluable tool,” he says, grinning down at you. “It’s like me—underappreciated but indispensable.”

Natasha, who’s apparently been paying more attention to you two than the movie, leans over again. “You two gonna make it through the night without bickering like an old married couple, or should we set up counseling now?”

Tony doesn’t miss a beat. “I’d make an excellent husband, for the record.”

You roll your eyes, feeling your cheeks warm inexplicably. “Good to know, Tony. I’ll keep that in mind.”

He smirks, but there’s a flicker of something softer in his expression, something almost vulnerable, before he masks it with his usual bravado.

By the time the movie ends and Kevin’s family finally comes home, Thor is on his feet, applauding like he’s just witnessed the greatest cinematic masterpiece of all time.

“A truly glorious tale!” he declares. “The boy is a hero of the highest caliber. I must share this story with the warriors of Asgard.”

Steve claps Thor on the back, clearly trying not to laugh. “I’m sure they’ll love it, big guy.”

The group starts to disperse after that, everyone gathering up their plates and drinks and muttering goodnights. Tony’s still sitting with you on the couch, his arm loose around your shoulders like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“You staying?” he asks casually, but there’s a note of something more in his voice.

“Yeah,” you reply, smiling up at him. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

He grins, and for a moment, you think there’s something different in his eyes—something softer, warmer—but then he’s back to his usual self, teasing you about stealing the good spot on the couch.

Neither of you moves, though. The others leave, the credits roll, and the room quiets, but you and Tony stay there, comfortably tangled together under the glow of the Christmas lights.

You sit at the small kitchen table in your apartment, cradling a mug of coffee and scrolling through your phone. The morning sunlight streams through the window, catching on the tiny particles of dust floating lazily in the air. It’s quiet, peaceful, a welcome contrast to the loud, boisterous chaos of movie night at the compound. You’re mid-sip when your phone buzzes with a message, and you glance down to see the sender: “Tin Can Man 🚀🛠️.”

Tony. Of course.

You smirk to yourself—he hates that nickname, which makes it all the more satisfying that it’s what you’ve saved him as. Opening the message, you find it’s short and to the point.

Tin Can Man 🚀🛠️: Hey, you free tonight?

Your eyebrows raise. Not a “good morning” or even a “hope you survived Blitzen.” Classic Tony, straight to the point. You type back quickly.

You: What’s it to you, Stark?

The response comes almost immediately.

Tin Can Man 🚀🛠️: Just answer the question, smartass.

You laugh into your coffee, shaking your head. It’s too early for this.

You: Yeah, I’m free. Why?

This time, there’s a slight pause before his next message comes through.

Tin Can Man 🚀🛠️: Good. I’m picking you up at 7. Wear something nice.

You nearly choke on your coffee.

You: Excuse me? What is this?

Tin Can Man 🚀🛠️: It’s called dinner. People eat it.

You: Are you bribing me with food?

Tin Can Man 🚀🛠️: No, I’m taking you to a restaurant.

You: Is this a date, Stark?

You’re joking—mostly—but the reply that pops up a moment later makes you freeze.

Tin Can Man 🚀🛠️: Yeah.

You blink at the screen, half expecting the words to rearrange themselves into something less earth-shattering. They don’t.

You: Seriously?

Three dots appear, disappear, and then reappear. Somewhere across town, you know Tony is staring at his phone with the same level of panic you’re feeling.

Tin Can Man 🚀🛠️: Yeah. Seriously.

Your heart stumbles into a gallop, and you stare at the phone, the words it’s a date looping in your mind like a broken record. You’re equal parts thrilled and terrified, your stomach doing flips like it’s auditioning for the circus. You’ve always known Tony flirts with anything that moves, but this… this feels different.

You: Okay. I’ll be ready.

You don’t know how you manage to type it without your hands shaking. On the other side of the city, Tony is probably sweating bullets, wondering if he’s just ruined everything. But as you set your phone down and glance at the clock, the only thing you can think is, Oh, God. I have nothing to wear.

By the time you’ve finished your breakfast, you’re mentally cataloging your closet and deciding nothing in it will do. You know Tony well enough to know that when he says “wear something nice,” he doesn’t mean a cute sweater and jeans. No, he’ll have picked some ridiculously fancy place where the appetizers cost more than your electric bill.

The afternoon turns into a whirlwind of trying on every remotely elegant outfit you own. The black dress? Too basic. The navy one? No, that’s what you wore to Natasha’s birthday last year. The red one? It’s a showstopper, sure, but is it too much?

You eventually settle on a dress you haven’t worn in ages—a deep emerald green number that fits like it was tailored just for you. Pairing it with heels and some understated jewelry, you give yourself one last critical look in the mirror.

“Not bad,” you mutter to your reflection, though the butterflies in your stomach are anything but calm.

By the time 7 o’clock rolls around, you’re pacing your apartment, trying not to overthink every detail. You’ve spent the entire day replaying Tony’s text messages, dissecting every word, and now you’re a bundle of nerves.

The buzz of your phone breaks the silence, and you check it to see another message from Tin Can Man.

Tin Can Man 🚀🛠️: I’m downstairs.

Grabbing your coat and bag, you take a deep breath, steeling yourself. When you step outside, there he is, leaning casually against a sleek black car that looks like it costs more than your apartment building. He’s dressed impeccably, of course—dark suit, crisp shirt, no tie, but the top button undone just enough to scream effortless charm.

“You clean up well,” you say, trying to sound more composed than you feel.

Tony’s gaze sweeps over you, and for a moment, he doesn’t reply. His usual smirk softens into something you can’t quite place, something that makes your heart skip a beat.

“You look… wow,” he says finally, and it’s so un-Tony-like that you can’t help but laugh.

“Don’t hurt yourself, Stark.”

He grins, holding the car door open for you with a flourish. “Your chariot awaits, milady.”

As you slide into the car, you wonder if Tony’s as nervous as you are. If he is, he hides it well. But when he gets behind the wheel, you notice his grip on the steering wheel is just a little tighter than usual.

Neither of you says much during the drive, but the air is charged with something unspoken. When you arrive at the restaurant—a place so fancy it doesn’t even have a sign—you turn to Tony, arching an eyebrow.

“Subtle,” you tease, gesturing at the valet waiting to park the car.

Tony shrugs, smirking. “What can I say? I have a reputation to uphold.”

Inside, the restaurant is even more extravagant than you expected. Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, and the soft hum of a piano drifts through the air. You’re suddenly very aware of how out of your element you feel, but Tony, ever the smooth talker, leads you to a table like he owns the place.

The evening unfolds in a blur of good food, light banter, and moments where you catch Tony looking at you with an expression that makes your cheeks warm. By the time dessert arrives, you’re no longer nervous—you’re just happy.

And maybe falling for your best friend wasn’t such a crazy idea after all.

The restaurant is a swirl of elegance and opulence. You sit at a cozy, candlelit table near a window that offers a breathtaking view of the city skyline. The warm glow of the chandeliers dances off the pristine silverware, and the soft murmur of conversations fills the air like a melody. Across from you, Tony looks uncharacteristically calm—at least on the surface.

“You’ve outdone yourself, Stark,” you say, gesturing to the impeccably arranged plate in front of you. It’s some kind of artistically deconstructed dish that looks almost too pretty to eat. Almost.

“Outdoing myself is my specialty,” he replies with a wink, swirling the wine in his glass. But there’s something in his eyes, a flicker of nervousness he’s trying hard to hide.

The conversation flows easily as the courses arrive one by one. You talk about everything and nothing—the latest Avengers antics, your recent binge of terrible reality TV, and Tony’s latest tech project, which involves an overly ambitious plan to automate coffee-making robots.

“And how’s that working out?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugs, grinning. “Let’s just say I’ve destroyed two espresso machines and one microwave. But progress is progress.”

You laugh, the sound filling the small bubble the two of you have created. There’s a moment of quiet, the kind that feels comfortable and loaded at the same time. Tony’s gaze lingers on you, and you suddenly feel warm, the candlelight only adding to the effect.

“What?” you ask, your voice softer now.

“Nothing,” he says quickly, looking away for a moment before meeting your eyes again. “Just… you look happy. I like it.”

You blink, your heart skipping a beat at the sincerity in his tone. Tony Stark doesn’t do sentimental—not usually. But tonight, there’s something different about him, something almost vulnerable.

When dessert is served—a rich chocolate creation that looks like it belongs in a museum—Tony leans back in his chair, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

“So,” he says, “you’re enjoying yourself?”

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t,” you reply, taking a bite of the dessert. “This is probably the fanciest dinner I’ve ever had.”

His smirk widens. “Good. Because the date hasn’t even started yet.”

You freeze mid-bite, narrowing your eyes at him. “What do you mean, hasn’t started? Tony, we’re literally on a date right now.”

He stands, tossing a few bills onto the table to cover the check—because of course he doesn’t wait for the server. Extending a hand to you, he says, “Trust me, sweetheart. This was just the warm-up.”

Curiosity and excitement war in your chest as you let him lead you out of the restaurant and back to the car. Once you’re settled in, he glances at you, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face.

“Just… keep an open mind, okay?” he says, his voice quieter now.

“Tony Stark, what are you up to?”

“You’ll see,” he replies, his usual confidence tinged with something you can’t quite place.

The car ride is a blur, and when he finally pulls up to your next destination, your jaw drops.

The scene before you looks like something straight out of a movie—your favorite movie, to be exact. It’s an outdoor setting, lit by dozens of string lights and lanterns. A small, charming gazebo sits in the center, surrounded by fairy lights that twinkle like stars. There’s a vintage record player set up, softly playing the theme from the movie you’ve watched more times than you can count.

“Tony…” you whisper, stepping out of the car. “How did you—”

He shrugs, but there’s a hint of nervousness in his posture. “You mentioned it once. Something about how you thought this was the perfect date, so… I figured I’d give it a shot.”

You turn to him, your heart swelling so much it feels like it might burst. “You did this for me?”

“Yeah, well, don’t make a big deal out of it,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “I just wanted it to be… special.”

“Tony,” you breathe, unable to stop the smile spreading across your face. “It’s perfect.”

He visibly relaxes at your words, his shoulders dropping a fraction. Taking your hand, he leads you toward the gazebo, where a small table is set with two glasses of champagne.

The two of you sit, the city’s bustle far away, the moment feeling almost surreal. You’re about to tease him about being a closet romantic when he stands suddenly, pacing a few steps before turning to face you.

“Okay,” he says, his voice uncharacteristically shaky. “I had this whole speech planned, but it’s probably terrible, and I’m gonna screw it up, but—”

“Tony,” you interrupt, standing and moving closer to him. “What’s going on?”

He takes a deep breath, his hands fidgeting at his sides.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” he says, his words rushing out in a way that makes your heart ache for him. “And I know I’m not exactly the easiest guy to deal with, and I probably don’t deserve you, but… I love you.”

Your breath catches.

“I love you,” he repeats, his voice steadier now. “And I want to know if you’ll—if you’ll be my girlfriend.”

For a moment, you just stare at him, the world spinning and standing still all at once. He looks so uncharacteristically vulnerable, his usual bravado stripped away, and it’s the most honest, beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

“Yes,” you say finally, your voice soft but sure.

His eyes widen. “Yes?”

“Yes, Tony,” you repeat, stepping closer and cupping his face in your hands. “I love you too.”

Relief floods his features, and then he’s pulling you into his arms, holding you like he’s afraid you might vanish if he lets go.

“You have no idea how much I wanted to hear that,” he murmurs against your hair.

You laugh, the sound full of joy. “You should’ve said something sooner, you idiot.”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his grin finally returning. “Yeah, well, you know me. Always gotta make a scene.”

And as he leans down to kiss you, the world fades away, leaving only the warmth of his lips against yours, the twinkling lights around you, and the overwhelming feeling that you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

The night sky stretches above you in all its vast, glittering glory, each star twinkling like tiny diamonds. The air is crisp but not too cold, the kind of chill that makes snuggling up feel like the best idea ever. You and Tony are still in the gazebo, but now you’re lying on a soft blanket, tucked close together, the twinkling lights overhead mixing with the stars.

Tony’s arm is wrapped around you, pulling you into his side like he doesn’t want to let go. His fingers trace light patterns along your arm, the sensation sending little shivers up your spine, though it’s not cold. It’s just him—his touch, his presence, everything about him.

You’re trying to focus on the sky, trying to keep your thoughts from wandering into how impossibly perfect this feels. The night is still, save for the soft rustling of the leaves in the trees around you, and the soft strains of the music drifting from the record player. The atmosphere feels like something out of a dream. This is a dream, right? Or maybe the best kind of reality.

“You know,” Tony says, his voice warm and full of that familiar teasing tone, “I had a whole speech planned for tonight. Thought I’d sound all suave, you know? But the second I saw you… I kinda forgot it all.”

You glance up at him, raising an eyebrow, your lips twitching into a smile. “You were going to give a speech?”

“Of course. I was gonna be all, ‘From the moment I met you, I knew you were destined to be mine,’ or something equally charming,” he replies, pretending to sound dramatic and smooth. He exaggerates the ‘destined’ part, earning a small laugh from you.

“And why didn’t you?”

Tony shrugs, giving you an exaggerated, almost childlike look. “Well, I got distracted by how ridiculously beautiful you look tonight. Didn’t really need the speech after all.”

You snort, glancing over at him. “Oh, so now you’ve forgotten how to flirt.”

“I never forget,” he says, sounding more like a proud peacock than anything else. He shifts so he’s leaning over you just a little more, his eyes gleaming mischievously. “I just use actions to back up my words, princess.”

“Oh, really?” You raise an eyebrow, trying to keep the teasing tone in your voice, but your heart is already doing little somersaults in your chest.

Before you can finish your thought, Tony leans in, placing a kiss on the tip of your nose. It’s quick, playful, but there’s something in it—something that sends warmth spreading through you from your cheeks all the way down to your toes. You giggle, brushing your nose.

“That’s how you back up your words? With nose kisses?”

“Nope.” His lips hover just above your skin, and he presses a lingering kiss to your cheek. “I like to keep you on your toes.”

You grin, feeling giddy. “Well, you’re doing a good job of that, Stark.”

You tilt your head back, letting your hair spill out behind you like a waterfall, and your lips brush against his cheek in return. His breath hitches just slightly, like he wasn’t expecting it. He turns his face toward you, and suddenly his lips are on yours, soft and warm and impossibly sweet. It’s a kiss that lingers, slow and tender, and for a moment, it feels like time stands still.

He pulls back just a fraction, his forehead resting against yours. You stay like that for a moment, eyes closed, savoring the feeling of him being so close. There’s no rush, no need for words—just the soft rhythm of breathing, the beating of two hearts that finally seem in sync.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” Tony murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.

You grin, tilting your head to look up at him. “What? Because I’m capable of giving you a kiss on the cheek?”

“Oh, that’s not what I’m talking about, sweetheart,” Tony says, his voice suddenly softer, more vulnerable. He brushes a strand of hair away from your face, and when he speaks again, there’s a tenderness in his voice that makes your chest tighten. “I’m talking about how you make me feel. How lucky I am to have you here. With me.”

You blink, heart flipping. “Tony…”

“Yeah,” he says, laughing under his breath. “I know I’m Tony Stark, but I’m pretty sure you’re the one who’s got me totally wrapped around your finger.” He gives you a playful wink, but there’s something more genuine behind it.

“Look at you being all sentimental,” you tease, trying to hide the growing warmth in your chest.

He narrows his eyes playfully. “I’m sentimental for you, sweetheart. Don’t get used to it.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you reply with a soft laugh. “I think I could get used to it.”

You lean up to kiss him again, a little slower this time, but just as sweet. His hands slip around your waist, pulling you closer, as if he can’t get close enough. You’re pressed so tightly together that there’s no space left, no room for any doubts or anything that isn’t him. His lips move against yours, warm and eager, but he pulls back after a moment, his nose brushing against your cheek as he lets out a deep sigh.

“You know,” Tony says, his voice low and just a little breathless, “I’ve kissed a lot of people in my time, but none of them made me feel like this.”

You smile softly, your heart fluttering in your chest. “I’m glad I’m the exception.”

“Oh, believe me,” he mutters, leaning in for another kiss, “you’re definitely the exception.”

This kiss is different—deeper, more hungry, like he can’t quite get enough. His hands move from your waist, sliding up your back to cradle your head, pulling you even closer. You respond eagerly, feeling the heat between you growing, but Tony pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes soft and full of something you can’t quite name.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice surprisingly serious.

You nod quickly. “Yeah, I’m just… overwhelmed.”

“Good overwhelmed?” He grins, his trademark cocky smirk returning.

“Very good overwhelmed,” you reply, laughing softly. “But you have a habit of kissing me senseless, Stark. You’re gonna give me a heart attack.”

He chuckles, his lips hovering near yours. “Sorry, can’t help it. You just make me so… damn happy. And I haven’t even told you how amazing you look tonight. Like, I’m seriously getting distracted just looking at you.”

You blush at the compliment, but Tony doesn’t give you much time to respond before he leans down and kisses you again, this time slower, gentler, with a lingering tenderness that makes your heart race in a different way. His lips are soft and warm, and when he pulls back, you’re both breathless, eyes fluttering open to meet each other.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?” you say, your voice teasing, but there’s a hint of something deeper in it now.

Tony grins, clearly pleased with himself. “I’m pretty sure you just made my night. I’m never letting you go, you know.”

You laugh, poking him lightly in the chest. “Not that I’m complaining, but I think I might be the one who’s going to keep you.”

Tony presses another kiss to your lips, this one playful, with a promise of more to come. He can’t stop himself now. He wants you—he wants you in a way that feels almost primal, like he’s not willing to let go of you, ever. You feel the same.

“Good,” he whispers against your lips. “Because you’re stuck with me now.”

As the night continues, you both stay there, tangled together on the blanket, lost in the sweetness of the moment, kissing, laughing, and just enjoying the quiet joy of being with each other. There’s no rush, no expectation—just the two of you, finally figuring out that this is exactly where you’re meant to be.

And for the first time in a long time, you don’t need anything else. Just Tony. And maybe a few more kisses.

The Avengers Tower’s common room is buzzing with excitement as movie night rolls around again, but this time, there’s a palpable change in the air. It's been a few weeks since you and Tony officially became a couple, and everyone can feel the shift. The usual dynamic is the same—loud chatter, snacks being passed around, and the occasional argument over what movie to watch—but there's something different now, something that makes every glance between you and Tony feel a little more charged. And you know exactly what it is.

As you walk into the room, hand in hand with Tony, the team falls silent for a brief moment before an uproar of teasing starts. Steve looks up from his phone and winks. Natasha smirks. Thor chuckles, and Clint just shakes his head with an exaggerated sigh. You and Tony sit down on the couch, the atmosphere now a mix of curiosity and playful mockery.

"So," Steve begins with that too-innocent expression on his face, "what are we watching tonight? Another Christmas classic?"

"Well, it is still December," Tony replies, his hand slipping to the back of your chair. He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he adds in a low, teasing voice, "But we can make it even more special, you know. I was thinking of a Christmas movie marathon… just the two of us."

You glance over at him, surprised at the suggestion. It’s not like Tony to offer a quiet, cozy evening without any extra flair, but for some reason, the idea of spending the night with him like that, away from everyone else, feels… comforting. You smile, leaning toward him and resting your head on his shoulder. "I like that idea," you murmur, nudging him playfully with your elbow.

The team watches you both, exchanging amused looks, and it only takes a second for Clint to speak up.

"Guys, seriously? Are we watching a Christmas movie or just watching you two get all… lovey-dovey for two hours?" He throws his hands up in exasperation. "It's like all you do now."

"Hey," Tony says, lifting an eyebrow as he shoots Clint a look. "We are on a date."

"Yeah, a date with a group of people who are very interested in your every move." Natasha’s voice is dry, but there's a playful sparkle in her eyes.

"Ugh, gross," Clint mutters, pretending to gag, but the smirk on his face betrays the fact that he's more entertained than anything else.

You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile that spreads across your face at their teasing. Tony, meanwhile, seems to thrive on the attention, leaning back a little too dramatically and pulling you closer to his side.

“I’m just a lucky guy,” Tony says with that smug smile of his, squeezing your shoulder. "Do you all see what I have to deal with? She’s perfect."

"Sure, Stark, you’re the lucky one," Clint mutters, dramatically pulling out a bag of chips from the table and shoving a handful into his mouth.

“You know,” Thor says from the armchair where he’s lounging, “when a mortal finds true love, it should be celebrated. It is a noble thing, indeed!” He raises his mug of beer as if toasting you both. "May you two share many winters together in joy."

"Aw, thanks, Thor." You smile at the god of thunder, and Tony gives you a mock bow.

"Let’s just try to survive the night without any more of that emotional stuff, okay?" Steve says, giving you a wink. "We’re here to watch a movie, not get too intense."

You lean into Tony with a smile, enjoying the teasing atmosphere. But, of course, Tony has to make it worse—or better, depending on how you look at it.

“Hey, don’t act like we’re not entertaining you guys. Who else is going to give you this much material to work with, huh?” He shrugs and adjusts his arm around you, pulling you closer, his hand resting casually on your thigh. “Besides, we love a little public display of affection.”

“Oh, we know,” Clint says with a mock groan, covering his eyes dramatically. "We’ve seen enough PDA to last a lifetime."

"Yeah, but have you seen this?" Tony asks, his eyes glinting mischievously as he pulls you closer. Without warning, he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, and then another on the top of your head.

The room falls into an exaggerated silence as everyone stares.

“Really, Tony?” Steve raises an eyebrow, a look of disbelief on his face.

“Come on, Cap. It’s just a kiss,” you reply, though your voice is full of suppressed laughter.

“Yeah, a thousand kisses,” Clint quips from across the room, rolling his eyes. “At least they’re not making out in front of us—that would be too much.”

“Oh, don’t tempt us, Clint,” Tony smirks, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek, his lips hovering just above yours for a beat. It’s sweet and intimate, but just teasing enough to make everyone squirm.

“Okay, okay,” Natasha finally says, throwing her hands up. “We get it. You’re in love. Just pick a movie already, or we’re going to have to find some other way to get the room’s attention.”

You both laugh, and Tony gives her a playful wink before leaning back into the couch, pulling you with him. You settle against him, your head resting on his chest, the warmth of his body comforting. It’s nice like this—cozy, familiar, and surrounded by people who you know are teasing just because they’re happy for you.

"So," Tony says, looking around the room and clearing his throat. "We decided on a Christmas movie marathon, but only if everyone can behave. If we end up with more sarcastic commentary and eye-rolls, we might have to take it to the bedroom and really make it a private affair.”

“Ugh, no, no,” Clint says, holding his hands up in mock horror. "We’ll behave. Promise."

Tony grins, clearly enjoying every second of this, before pressing the play button on the remote. The opening credits of Love Actually start to roll, and everyone immediately starts making playful comments. You can’t help but chuckle as Tony holds you a little tighter, clearly amused by the bickering happening around you.

As the movie continues, you get wrapped up in the warmth of the scene, the silly moments, and the subtle sweetness of the holiday cheer. You settle deeper into Tony’s side, your head resting against his shoulder, his arm draped comfortably over your waist. His fingers gently stroke your arm as the two of you share quiet conversations during the more emotional parts of the movie. Every so often, he presses soft kisses to the top of your head, as if reminding you—and everyone else—that you belong to each other.

The teasing continues from the others, but there’s an undeniable affection in it all. They’re all happy for you both, even if it’s a little strange for them to see Tony—Tony Stark, the self-proclaimed playboy billionaire—acting like a lovesick puppy in front of the entire team.

“Man, you really went all out,” Clint says after a particularly emotional scene, turning to Tony with a raised eyebrow. “You even went for Love Actually. What’s next? A romantic comedy marathon?”

“Anything for my girl,” Tony responds easily, and the way he says it, so casually but so full of affection, makes your heart swell.

“I can’t wait to see you two try to top this next year,” Natasha says, her tone playful, though there’s a softness to it as well.

“I don’t even want to know,” Steve chimes in, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “But I’m guessing this is only the beginning, huh?”

“Hey, if I’m going all in, I’m going all in,” Tony replies, glancing down at you with that loving look that makes your heart skip. “I’m in this for the long haul.”

You smile up at him, and his expression softens just enough for you to feel the weight of his words. There’s no doubting how much he means it. And for a moment, the world outside of this room seems to disappear as you’re surrounded by the people who feel like family—your family.

The movie goes on, the mood light and easy, and Tony’s kisses come more frequently, not because he has to, but because he simply can’t seem to stop himself. And you don’t mind one bit.

By the time the movie ends, the Avengers are sprawled around the room in varying degrees of comfort. Tony gives you one last lingering kiss before pulling away just enough to look at you with a grin.

“I think we’ve officially made movie night our tradition now,” he says with a satisfied nod.

“Definitely,” you agree, your fingers gently tracing the fabric of his shirt. “Just us… and the team watching us get all cheesy.”

“Hey, it’s our tradition,” Tony replies with a wink. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

With a contented sigh, you rest your head on his shoulder again, feeling the warmth of his body against yours, the softness of his kisses lingering on your lips, and the comforting certainty that, despite the teasing, you and Tony are exactly where you’re meant to be.

And as the Avengers disperse, still chuckling under their breaths, you know you’ve found a tradition that will be cherished for years to come—just you, Tony, and an endless amount of Christmas movies.

[mittthrawnuruodo]

falling in reverse - popular monster

[forzalando]

casual

playlist shuffle request for @driverlando !! love you so so much, sasha, i hope you like it💛💛 pairing: lando norris x f!reader word count: 1k song: casual by chappell roan (modified ofc) warnings: 18+ mdni, spicy and implied smut, angst (sorry!)

You giggled like teenagers, buzzed off of champagne and the energy of the evening – some McLaren sponsor event that he’d mentioned weeks ago, waving his hand like it was no big deal. You said it sounded fun, and he asked you to go with him – with him. A public appearance. Cameras. Hundreds of people.

You were giddy.

Almost as giddy as you were now, running to the car because Lando couldn’t keep his hands off of you the entire night, couldn’t stop whispering in your ear how he wanted to taste you, and you simply refused to have a public scandal on your hands.

The thrum of your racing heart and the pretty smile on Lando’s face should have been enough to keep the thought from your mind but it tore through anyway. The car door thrown open, the feeling of bouncing against the seat, the uneasiness bouncing around in your mind. Lando’s hands creeping up your legs, the dreaded question creeping up the back of your throat.

What are we?

With his head between your thighs and his fingers gripping their flesh, you should have been satiated, should have been unable to focus on anything but pleasure. But it plays on a loop in your mind –

What are we? What are we? What are we?

The dreaded word tossed around all night, girlfriend. Girlfriend? Is this your girlfriend? I didn’t know you had a girlfriend? He never denied it – never said you were nothing, just laughed softly and avoided the subject entirely. Keeping you on that precipice, giving you just enough to stay until now, it’s not enough anymore. You have to say something –

“Lando, stop – ” you breathed, his curls brushing your inner thighs as he immediately raised his head to meet your eyes.

“Is something wrong? Are you okay?”

The concern in his eyes made your stomach clench – it almost made you blurt out some bullshit excuse and completely abandon everything you were going to say, let him pleasure you and take what little of himself he gave you with no complaints. But you needed more.

“Yes, I mean, no, not with this, I just…why did you bring me here tonight? With you? What does it mean to you?”

He laughed, not in a mean way but in disbelief, like he couldn’t believe what you were asking and the position you were asking it in. “I’m kneeling in the back of this car begging to give you head and you – ”

The look in your eyes made him pause, made him pull the skirt of your dress down and climb up into the seat next to you.

“Ok, we’re doing this now.” The vibe shifts completely – one of playfulness and sexual tension to an entirely different kind. He twiddles his thumbs, looks anywhere but your eyes, and your heart plummets. “I just wanted to bring you, I’m not sure why. We have so much fun together, these events are mind-numbingly boring, seemed like a good idea. Plus, I mean we’re dating, right? Not seriously or exclusively, it’s just – ”

He pauses, and you offer the word you know he’s going to say with every bit of sadness and disappointment you can muster. If he notices, he doesn’t show it. If he cares, he doesn’t show that either. “Casual?”

“Exactly,” he exclaims. He smiles brightly, like he didn’t just crush your heart in his beautiful, sinful hands.

It was your own fault, really. The first night he brought you home, whispered in between heated kisses – “baby, don’t get attached”. You’d laughed, countered with “I should be saying that to you, Norris”, wiping the shit-eating grin from his face.

But he was right, the words left your mind as quickly as he’d said them when his lips were back on yours that fateful night. No attachment, no attachment. Baby, no attachment. But how were you meant to heed that warning when he was perfect, kind, fun, and knew your body like his own?

He interrupted your thoughts with a hand on your thigh, even the way he touched you innocently - there was nothing casual about it or the way he made you feel.

Then, his voice – “I thought we were on the same page about that?”

“Yeah,” you choked out. “We totally are, I was just worried – worried that being seen in public meant something different, you know? Everyone kept asking if I was your girlfriend and I just thought I should…clarify.”

You saw his shoulders relax, the air from a heavy sigh of relief ghosting over your face.

“We should get back,” you whispered. “I’m sure people are looking for you.”

The walk back into the venue was such a stark contrast to when you ventured out – the same pretty smile on his face and his fingers laced through yours, but the heaviness in your chest wasn’t there before.

Casual. Casual. Casual.

It rang through your head the rest of the night, a smile painted on your face and Lando gripping your waist, kissing your cheek adoringly.

Maybe you could get through the casual – maybe in a year you’d have a shared apartment and you’d laugh as you tell him how in this moment you’d loved him, you had loved him enough to hold out for something that wasn't promised.

You smiled and kissed him when his driver dropped you at your place. No, he couldn’t come up because you had work in the morning and with him there you’d never get to sleep.

Call me tomorrow, he yelled after you.

And despite your better judgment, you did.

[nicoscheer]

Milex quotes (ranging from unhinged to batshit crazy while taking a detour through wtf land)

-

- first impressions: “What is this puny spotty kid with his little brown bag ?” (Miles about Alex) “Who’s that jester who makes me laugh so hard as soon as he opens his mouth ?” (Alex about Miles). Via Les Inrocks arcticle

-

- “I tell him I love him all the time,” via NME (Miles)

-

- “I love you because you’ve got a very strong pain threshold.” Via NME (Miles)

-

- since when are you both that close ? “You want to know if we’re going to get married ? If we have sex like real men, between the buttocks ?” Via Les Inrocks article

-

- “For kids from the North, it's hard to say but we never stop telling each other that we love each other. Alex knows I'll always be there for him. (How do our girlfriends deal with that? Are they jealous? Maybe we should ask them).” (Miles) Via Les Inrocks article

-

- “To me, The Last Shadow Puppets is not even a band. It’s more like a way-out of the notion itself of ‘band’. It’s a space of freedom. There is no embarrassment, no taboo, no limits between us. It's a real trade, we reroute each other's ideas. In the end, it's impossible to quantify the contribution of the two of us. Our complementarity sometimes freaks me out.” (Alex) via Les Inrocks article

-

- MK: Totally, to me it’s even the best vocal take of his entire career! (He cuddles him.) AT: Thank you, my dear. (Note: here it says “mon lapin”, which can mean “my dear” but literally translates to “my bunny”) via MyRock Magazine

-

- AT: Ah yeah, that’s how it is with my Miles! I start a joke and he’ll finish it! (he pounces on Miles and catches him in an armlock on the settee, before giving his crotch a light slap and shouting “Here comes the nuts!”) You wanna see how close we are as friends, Miles and I? Here, look, a spectacle exclusively for you! (At this point, we move up another notch in this madness: Alex swoops for a bowl of cashew nuts and starts to frenetically toss them at Miles, who tries to catch them with his mouth… after a fashion. Via MyRock Magazine

-

- “Alex is so dedicated to song writing, it’s inspiring to be around. He’s a beautiful soul and I’m honoured to witness him and the band grow. His left ears going to be burning when he hears this…” (Miles) via GQ magazine October 2013

-

X

-

- “Alex Turner is a genius, isn’t he? He’s a genius fish.” (Miles) via Knack Focus

-

Via Kultura Onet

-

- “Sometimes we have Skype-sex, or we wank off on FaceTime!” (Miles) via Index

-

- “We've been through a lot together. It's like, he's one of those friends, those few best friends you have in life. As you grow older, your circle tends to shrink, but he's remained one of my closest pals. It's almost like a bit of yin and yang between us.” (Miles) via Numéro

-

- Alex turns to Miles and propositions him: “Your place or mine, then?” There’s no-one expect us and the road-crew there to see it, but it feels like a special moment nonetheless. Via NME

-

- “I think we can bring the best out in each other, you know? He certainly does that with me.” (Miles) Via Eska Rock

-

-

- “Why, yes, bromances are for sharing your dreams. What a wonderful sentiment.” (Miles) via Interview Magazine

-

- AT: Miles is, without a doubt, Wolverine. Wolverine is a style icon to him. I see similarities. Miles always follows his instinct. And he’s capable of fixing things that are broken, whether it’s material or emotional damage, in no time. MK: Alex often reminds me of Gambit. He can change something insignificant into something explosive. He’s very aware of everything that happens around him, something that balances him out. And he can read my mind. Via OOR Magazine 2016

-

- “We understand each other and keep each other going. We both have strange ideas and we need the presence of the other to make sense of them.” (Miles) Via OOR Magazine 2016

-

- “Sometimes it can be a pressure being the fella in the band who writes the songs. Getting together with Miles I've got someone to bounce ideas off and that is something new for me. Also, it gives me somewhere to hide because he's up there singing with me. In the Arctic Monkeys, there's nowhere for me to hide.” (Alex) via Culture

-

- “My best mate. I love him, man. I like the way he pushes himself and keeps that thing of, whatever's going on around you, you're just a lad who loves playing music and writing tunes. He's a prime example of someone who's big but doesn't take anything for granted.” (Miles)

-

- “I decipher his thoughts and organise them. When Miles bursts, the idea comes flying. Someone who knows him well enough might be able to filter out the good ideas. But usually, he only has good ideas and it’s up to me to catch everything. That’s my job within this duo. That process releases all kinds of stuff within me, causing me to go into certain directions I would never take my own.” (Alex)

-

- “I thought it were going to be like them finding a tape where you’d had an affair,” he grins. “Like your bird had found an affair tape and was watching you having sex with another bird… but it weren’t like… an affair tape… erm, not that I’ve ever made an affair tape.” Alex Turner about the Monkeys’ reaction to The Last Shadow Puppets’ album via NME

-

- “And also working with Miles, it comes very much from my heart. You know, with such a close friendship we have. Wanting to work together, it brings something else. I haven’t done too much with other people… he’s kind of the only one.” (Alex) via Hot Press

-

- MK: And he can read my mind. AT: But you can read mine, too. MK: I knew you were gonna say that. AT: And I knew you were gonna say that. via OOR Magazine 2016

-

- “Even if we aren't writing half a word is enough. We can finish each other's sentences sometimes and if we focus on it, we can take it to a much deeper level. That's pretty unique. My thinking process is pretty abstract and a lot of people don't know what to do with that. Alex understands me like no other.” (Miles) via OOR Magazine 2016

-

- you’re living in Los Angeles too now, miles? “…because Alex lives there…” (Miles) via Humo

-

- “He has written a lot of songs – a lyrical wonder, this boy!” (Miles) via Humo

-

- The pair live, Turner says, “seven minutes away from each other”. Ask them what a typical night out entails, and they look at each other, then proceed to not be very forthcoming, though Turner will eventually concede that “some of what happens in those situations is disclosed, through the veil of song, on the record. There’s references.” Via Shortlist

-

- “Starin’ out the balcony at the moon, wonderin’ where is he, what is he doin’ now, who’s he kissin’” (Alex) via Sidewalk Hustle

-

X

-

X

-

- “… but this thing we had together… I know that I was the new kid and he was a sort of superstar, but even from day one, it was amazing. To an outsider, it wouldn’t look equal, but it was always so equal. He made me feel like that, just because it was.” (Miles)

-

- “We take it in turns playing the straight man.” (Alex) via Shortlist

-

- “Quite cute ! Quite and quite camp, you mean ?” (Miles about their relationship) via NME

-

- On what it’s like to work with Kane again, Turner said: “It’s like John Lennon meets… Paul [McCartney].” Via NME

-

- Miles says their relationship was established “on laughter and general stupidness” via the Telegraph

-

- Interviewer: Alex, what does Miles bring out in you that…. Alex: A woman can’t bring out in me?

-

- Miles and Alex and their endearments and nicknames for each other :

“We always talk about it, me and the boy, y'know?” (one of the cutest things Miles has called Alex is 'the boy' it's so beautiful bc someone asked him on Twitter what he was up to and he just said he was 'going out with the boy'. which boy? it didn't need saying. everyone knows who The Boy in Miles' life is.)

"He's got the face for it...the little diamond."Miles to Alex

"The Little Prince" Miles to Alex x

“Shavambacu” Miles to Alex at 4:01

“You naughty turtle” Alex to Miles- Tlsp @ Paradiso, Amsterdam 2016 during the element of surprise

“Baby” Miles to Alex multiple times

“You scampi fry” Miles to Alex via the guardian

“The Wirral squirrel/wirral riddler” Alex to Miles via absolute radio 2011 at around 10:50

“All aboard the Kane train” Alex to Miles at Lowlands 2016 at around 21:56

“My Miles” Alex to Miles, MyRock interview

“The next song is called ”My Fantasy”… I’d like to dedicate it to my Alex Turner!” Miles to Alex, live performance

“If I can speak for both Darling” Alex to Miles via El País

-

X

-

- “He (Alex) turned up one day in red jeans. That surprised me. I like it when he wears red jeans. When they’re tight.”

-

- “There's nothing innocent about Miles Kane,”Turner warns, in case anyone was planning to accuse him of luring his fresh-faced co-conspirator into a decadent world of rock star self-indulgence. “He is the antithesis of innocence.” “Ooh,” Kane retorts, archly, “you scampi fry.” Via the Guardian

-

-

- “We went for a bike ride. Tops off. Fred Perry shorts on.” (Alex about their time recording the age of the understatement in rural France Blackbox studio) via Q Magazine 2008

-

- You look like you're about to snog each other. AT: “It’s rare that we don’t look like that.” Tlsp at the Mercury music Prize 2008

-

- “As far as I’m concerned there are only two superstars: Beyoncé and Miles Kane. You can quote me on that.” (Alex)

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Hazband 2: Band AU

Buckle Up, Buttercups. This is gonna be looooooooooong.

-"Insider Bands" playing on VH666 streaming services on a computer monitor / TV screen sitting on the desk against the far wall-

Charlie: (laying on her belly on her bed and chewing her nails like a cartoon goat chews through a field of grass as she watches the TV)

Riff Rascal: Alright, dudes, dudettes, non-duders, and rock-aholics! That was Simple Plain's newest single "Why Are We Kids?!". Coming up next, our guy, our big shredder, our big bad-

????: Dammit, Riff!!!! Just get on with it!!!

Riff Rascal: Yo, sorry, boss lady! Coming up next, we have our expert in all things metal and shredding, Axel Steelgrave, conducting a super secret, super exclusive interview with one of Hell's latest and greatest! Stay tuned!

Charlie: (whines and plasters her face into the comforter) Fuck! I really messed up! I shouldn't have released that album, guys! What if Vaggie doesn't like girls outside of the metal scene?! Then I'm just the creepy, stalker, pop diva who messages her on Sinstagram every once and a while! And likes all of her posts! And comments on each picture! And-

Razzle: (trying to finish polishing Charlie's hooves after a full pedicure and hoof care) Baap?

Charlie: So? It was only ever mentioned once in a tabloid that she was once in a poly ship with a man and woman before. Nothing set in stone. Who listens to tabloids anyway? She said she was a lesbian in her last interview with Angel Metal Monthly.

Dazzle: (brings up a wide array of nail polishes) BaaaAaaAp?

Charlie: Yes! She messages me back almost immediately after every message I send her, but that doesn't mean the's interested in me. She hasn't been online in a week! (rolls over and flops onto her back, covering her eyes with her arm) Not since Katie Killjoy did that whole news segment on my new single music video and album.

Dazzle: (painting Charlie's hooves in a deep red hue called "Wicked Sinister") Baaaaaaap. BaaaAAaaap. Baap. (clicks his hoof in a way that's supposed to look like a sassy finger snap and blows heated air over the paint)

Razzle: Baap! (scowls) Baaap. Baaa. Baap!

Charlie: Thanks, Razzle. No, Dazzle. I really don't think this is some kind of rebound. I really started liking her during the Battle of the Bands gig over at the Jackpot Hotel and Casino. She was the first person who didn't openly laugh at me being there even though I was the only pop singer there.

-VH666 blares back with a heavy metal guitar riff-

Axel Steelgrave: Hey, good evening, everyone. How's it going? Tonight, we have a very special guest. (camera pans out to show Vaggie sitting next to Axel in an interview chair) Lead singer, guitarist, and rocking girl, Vaggie the Steel Vagina from Fallen Angels.

Charlie: WHAT?!?!?!?!?! (crocodile death rolls around in her excitement and falls out of bed, completely wrapped in a burrito, and worm crawls over to the TV) RAZZLE!!! DAZZLE!!! TURN IT UP!!!

Razzle: (salutes) Baap! (grabs the remote and turns up the volume)

Dazzle: (sad bleats as he looks at the mess of nail polish everywhere) baaaaaap.....

Vaggie: (trying not to snarl at the name) It's just Vaggie, Axel.

Axel Steelgrave: Oh, sure. Sure. Well, thank you so much for taking the time to come and see us. Not gonna lie. We were shocked to hear that you were coming out with a new single so quickly.

Charlie: (plasters her face to the screen) New Single?!?!?!?!?!

Vaggie: (blushes slightly) Well, I figured after hearing the Princess's new album and call-out, I should work on a reply.

Angel: (from behind the camera man) You wouldn't have had ta write and record a whole new song and music video if you just sent 'er a video of you jacking it all week! I've never heard dat vibrator work so hard in its life! I swear I smelled smoke last night!

Charlie: (squeals, gasps, and shrieks all at once and falls backwards)

Vaggie: (jumps up from her seat) Angel! What the Fuck?!

Axel Steelgrave: Well, well, well, I guess that answers my next question. I take it this new single is going to be good news for the Princess?

Vaggie: (still steaming as she sits back down and tries to compose herself) I know you have the video on hand. Why not play it and let the fans see for themselves?

Axel Steelgrave: I couldn't have said it better myself. (to the camera) With that being said, let's take a look at a sneak peek of Fallen Angel's new single: "Dear, Charlie - For Somewhere Better".

-Video cuts to some random point in the music video where Vaggie is standing in black leather skirt that has the leather ripped into strips in a hoola-skirt style, black halter tank top, thigh high leather heeled boots, and black fingerless gloves, holding and shredding a guitar. Angel is a pink, fabulous gay disaster on drums while one set of hands works a keyboard.-

Vaggie: (singing) We'll ignite. Still dreaming wide awake. On the hunt for "Somewhen brighter". Pull me close now, and I'll dream until my dying day. Till we create a new "Somewhere better". The promise of a life. Like a thousand suns inside my broken heart. I can see through your eyes. And embrace the flame that guides me through the night.

-Video Cuts back to the interview-

Axel Steelgrave: (freaking out excitedly) Wow! That's quite the statement! Good on you, Steel Vagina!

Vaggie: Vaggie.

Axel Steelgrave: Before we end this exclusive, is there anything you want to say to the Princess in case she's watching?

Vaggie: (Face falls briefly as her eye widens and a blush colors her face) Oh.... (shakes her head to compose herself, looks into the camera, and makes a telephone gesture) Call me~

Axel Steelgrave: (laughing) Alright! You heard it here first, folks. "Dear, Charlie" will be available on HellTunes tonight at midnight. Thank you all so much for tuning in. And, as always, stay rocking.

Charlie: (finally managing to unravel the blanket and sitting on the floor with a bright red blush) C-Call.... Her.... She wants me to call her... (jumps up and down like a teenager in a bad "not another teen movie" while holding Razzle and Dazzle's hooves) SHE WANTS ME TO CALL HER!!!! (pauses) How?! I don't have her number!

-DING!-

Charlie: (dives for her phone on the floor and opens a new Sinstagram message)

FallenAngelVaggie: Hope you got a chance to watch "Insider Bands" tonight. Talk to you later? Maybe over coffee? XXX-XXX-XXXX

Charlie: (takes a deep breath) SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

Vaggie: (leaning against the wall of the VH666 studio, holding her phone against her chest, and taking a long drag of a cigarette)

Angel: Hey! I thought you were quitting! (yoinks the cigarette and plops it between his lips)

Vaggie: Dammit, Angel! I said I'd be done once my case is empty! (digs in her pocket and pulls out an angelic steel cigarette case) It still has four left! I haven't even lit up in nearly six months!

Angel: I know! Proud of you for that. That interview rile you up that much that you gotta wreck six months of hard work?

Vaggie: Ugh! (slams her back into the wall) You think Charlie got the message?

-squeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!

Angel: (looks up at the sky towards the Morningstar Mansion where it looks like fireworks are going off on one of the balconies) Oh, I think she got it~

[grlsbstshot]

Join us for the next chapter of NEON LIGHTS premiering sat.

Catch up on the previous chapters here. Chapter I // Chapter II // Special Edition // Chapter III

James Lucas sits down with Reese Lane of RHYTHM Magazine! Hear all about life, love, and his upcoming third album -- promisingly titled Painted -- during this exclusive interview!

When he won a Grammy before the age of twenty, James Lucas – born Jameson Lucas to music legend, Anaïs Lucas – knew he was in trouble. He says his ego has always been an issue and didn’t improve.

“I caught myself thinking shit that should have never crossed my mind. That I didn’t need to keep improving. That I was already the greatest. I immediately started chasing gold. It was a high. But I wasn't ready for it...and deep down, I knew that."

He would choose to continue at Howard University, graduating at 21. Instead of returning to Los Angeles, Lucas moved to New York and in four short years, built a stage career -- a departure from his music dreams. 

He led a few off-broadway shows before hearing about one particular musical: Alexander H. He would be cast in the role of Aaron Burr but according to Lucas, he had a much more fortuitous thing happen to him – meeting his music collaborator, producer and songwriter, Ellington Dupree.

“He’s my best friend. I don’t know of anybody who understands music better than he does. He makes me better. And he’s the reason I found my sound. I stopped cosplaying as Ginuwine and Joe. I found me because I wanted to be as good as EJ.”

You know the story from here…Tony award. Grammy award. Moving back to LA to work on his second album with Dupree and then? Massive success with his second album -- titled 2506. Named for his age and month of birth, Lucas found himself exploring different kinds of r&b with an all new production -- provided by Ellington Dupree.

“Everything blew up. It was all a blur when we released 2506. Six Grammy noms, two wins. I didn’t even take the time to soak the moment in. My life had changed and I was just trying to keep up.”

His life changed in other ways on Grammy night. It was the first time he met his on-off partner, singer Imani St. Cirie. The two would go on to embark on a very public relationship for the next two and a half years before abruptly breaking up in early 2023.

The mention of her makes Lucas lapse into silence for the first time in almost an hour of conversation. Despite the rumblings of reuniting, neither star has spoken about the other. Even the reasons for their breakup are closely held secrets – unless you listen between the lyrics.

Reese Lane: Do you not like talking about her? James Lucas: I could talk about Mani all day. But I mean – we were together but now we're not. Reese Lane: And the Instagram situation? James Lucas: ...Do you listen to my music? RL: Yes. Often. JL: Then you understand me and Imani. You get that we're...complicated. RL: Is that what you want? JL: I want her. So...if she calls, I go running. If I call, she comes running. That’s what it means to be complicated as f*ck. It'll always be that way. I don't care who she moves on to – it'll always be me for her. And that's not ego. It's the truth.

And just as he says, there's an understanding of their relationship in the lines of almost every track. Lucas has never confirmed which songs are inspired by his personal life. But songs filled with lost love, longing, and frenzied sex paint the picture of a chaotic romantic life. I tell him so and Lucas laughs...long and loud before agreeing. He relaxes somewhat before escorting me back inside the suite, his new home while he films several films in New York.

Jameson and I enjoy a drink (or several), order pizza, and settle in for another round of questions. He's even more open than before. I ask him to tell me about his next album and he does one better -- he pulls out his phone and plays three tracks. Back to back. Without explanation or asking my thoughts. He says the album isn't done but from what i heard, it's pretty damn close to being that.

The first track he played was a smooth yet assertively playful croon about his love for someone who seems to not be paying him much attention in return. The next is a beautiful ode to a woman he seems to be encouraging to be happy. The last was completed recently he says -- two days ago, in fact -- and it's a moody deconstruction of...himself, his ego, and the way he treated another nameless woman.

I playfully ask if those tracks about his life and Lucas surprises me by answering with a nod. I push my luck and ask again if they were all about one woman. Lucas grins and shakes his head that time, confirming what i've long suspected -- chaotic.

RL: Why is your love life like...that? JL: I don't know. I mean...I kind of do it to myself. I love hard. I love foolishly. RL: So you've been in love a lot? JL: No. RL: Do you believe in having a soulmate? JL: I do. I suspect I have one. RL: Is at least one of those about her? JL: ...Yes. RL: Imani? JL: You keep asking me about her. RL: You two intrigue me. JL: Why? (laughs) We do what everyone else does. We fuck, we fight, we love each other, we hate each other. We get it right and we get it wrong. It's just love. RL: So why be apart? JL: Ask her. She may tell you. RL: I will. Tell me which one is about her. JL: The first. And the last. RL: Which one was the second one about? JL: A friend. I'm actually supposed to meet her at the MOMA in an hour. (smiles) I like you. You don't let me get away with shit. You remind me of another friend. RL: The same one you're meeting today? JL: No. Genie. She's practically my sister. RL: Genie Adesanya? Well, thank you. I'm flattered. You two are still close after the breakup of your parents? JL: I still annoy her just as much. She's my sister. Whether or parents got married or not. She probably wouldn't agree though.

Once again, I'm surprised that he answers so openly. If his publicist was sitting in the room, they might tackle me and throw me out...but Lucas breezes through each question, more honest than anyone would expect him to be. 

"I don't have any shame." he says when I ask why he tells me so much. "I put everything in my music. Why lie? It's all in the music." He's nonchalant as he brushes his hand over his head -- the trademark cornrows he's sported since he burst onto the scene at the age of 19 gone. I ask him about his hair and he gives me a sheepish grin before saying it was for a project but I doubt it.

RL: When do you think the new album will be ready? JL: Soon. I usually finish music way before it's released. I'm just...all over the place right now. RL: Rumors about you appearing in your first film are circling. Plus this upcoming album. How are you juggling it all? Jameson Lucas: Actor & Singer. JL: With a whole lot of prayer. (laughs) I don't know. I will always think of myself as a musician before anything else. I went to school for it, I worked my ass off for that title. I'll never just be a singer. I'm a musician. Everything else is secondary.

By the time we wrap up our conversation, I understand why Jameson Lucas has so many admirers. It isn't just the fact that he's handsome or the fact that he's incredibly charming. Not even the fact that he's tall, can sing like a prince, or that flash of gold you see covering his teeth when he speaks -- it's that he's an open book. Even when you know you shouldn't fall under his spell, you do. And he makes it very appealing to be there.

When he gives you that lazy grin with those blue-green-hazel color eyes while laying across a couch -- the image of virile relaxation -- you can only think of one thing. There's a cockiness about Jameson but isn't overbearing or unappealing. It's the right amount of (in his words) essence. Even when he's crooning about how to teach you 'correction', you can't find it in yourself to hate him. He makes you want it.

Jameson walked me to the door of his suite, holding it open for me as I left -- and insisted on walking down to the lobby with me. He's dressed casually but draws looks all the way down, his long legged stride tempered by the fact that I'm wearing heels and he doesn't want to leave me behind. We part ways outside his hotel -- with an offer to interview him again once the album is out. I take up on it, we exchange contact information, and then he's off. He doesn't slide into a black car and roll the window up. He simply heads off down the street, towards the subway. On his way to a dreamy museum date with some very lucky friend.

[daisynik7]

“Drank In My Cup” by Kirko Bangz for Connie Springer- Comfort + Smut

The lyrics: “Girl I know how much you really want somebody, want somebody that don't really need you” and “That ain't tryin' to love you baby, just fuck you instead” if that’s okay <3

Drank In My Cup

Girl I know how much you really want somebody, want somebody that don't really need you

Pairing: Connie Springer x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~2.1k

cw: friends-to-lovers trope, implied unrequited love, smut - blowjob, cunnilingus, vaginal sex (missionary), creampie, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, pet names.

Summary: Connie has been in love with you since college when you were living next door to each other in the dorms. He’s consoled you through countless of breakups and heard you in all your casual hookups. It hasn’t been easy for him and after graduation, he decides to move overseas in an attempt to get over you, cutting off all contact without explanation. Three years of radio silence later and the two of you finally reunite. 

Author’s Notes: Inspired by one of AugustInTheWinter’s Patreon exclusive audios. Honestly, so so good, if you have the ability to do so, subscribe to him, it is so worth the money. Anyways, thanks for this request for the y2k karaoke party! I love this song. Enjoy!

If you told Connie Springer five years ago that you wanted to spend the night, he would have agreed, no question. Today, as he anticipates your arrival, he almost regrets saying yes. 

A week ago, you contacted him, asking if you could stay at his place for the weekend while you’re here visiting. He checks the last text you sent him; it was five months ago, wishing him happy birthday. The one before that was exactly a year earlier, another birthday greeting. Your messages were more frequent then, but they gradually faded, probably because Connie never replied to any of them. 

He's not trying to be a dick. He’s just too much of a coward to admit that he’s doing his best to get over you. And if that means ignoring you completely, so be it. At what cost, though? Losing his best friend?

This time, he actually does respond to you. Maybe it’s because after three years of being apart, he finally feels ready to face you again. Tonight will be the test. Is this really the best idea for him?

You knock on his front door, weekender bag in hand, heart beating faster, excited to see him. The last time was graduation when he told you that he’d be moving away to Marley for his new job. He didn’t even tell you that he was applying to companies overseas, so of course, you were shocked. Your friendship hasn’t been the same since. You used to be inseparable; now, you’ve never felt further apart. 

He greets you politely when he answers the door, that familiar face instantly putting you at ease, despite the distance that’s grown between you. “Hey.”

“Hi, stranger,” you say, hugging him with your free arm. He’s tense when you touch him, not like his usual self. That’s one thing you always loved about Connie; how snugly he would hold you in his arms. It’s already awkward, but you continue to smile at him, hoping that whatever this tension is dissipates soon.

He leads you inside, taking your bag, setting it on the floor by one of the closed rooms. “Do you want a drink?”

“What do you have?” you ask, looking around his apartment, trying to find any remnants of your friendship. Pictures, ticket stubs from all the movies you watched together, all the little trinkets you’d get him as gifts for his birthdays. Nothing, there’s nothing in here. It barely looks decorated at all, except for a few posters he’s crookedly hung up.

“I’ve got water and some White Claws that have been festering in there since I moved here. Pick your poison.”

You laugh, happy to hear this side of him. “I’ll take the water, thanks.” You sit down on the couch, not sure where to start. “How have you been?”

He grabs a clean glass, turning the faucet on until your cup is almost filled to the brim. He carefully hands it to you, sitting as far away from you on the couch as possible. You shift in your seat, facing him, waiting for his answer. “Good. I’m good,” he says, avoiding your gaze, staring at the floor instead. 

You take a sip of water, expecting him to elaborate more, but he doesn’t. “Do you like living here? In Marley?”

He shrugs. “It’s okay. There’s not that much more going on here than there is in Paradis.”

“Do you think you’ll ever move back home?”

He crosses his arms over his chest, guarded. “I don’t have any reason to, so probably not.”

“Well, I can think of one reason,” you say. “I miss you.”

His jaw clenches, defenses still up. You scoot closer, wanting this distance to disappear, physically and figuratively. You’ve been waiting for this reunion since he left, since he stopped contacting you almost completely. Wanting to finally make it right with him, the way it should have been ever since you first became close to him in college. You knew he liked you; he was always so obvious about it. And yes, deep down, you liked him too. But you were scared of ruining your friendship, of losing your best friend. You were so used to all your relationships ending in a breakup, you were afraid to cross that line with Connie in fear of losing him forever. When you finally mustered the courage to confess to him on the night of graduation, he told you he’d be moving to Marley for work. Because of your cowardice, you ended losing him anyways. But you won’t let tonight go to waste. You’ll do everything you can to salvage this. Even after all these years of distance between you, you won’t make the same mistakes again. 

You close the gap, squeezing next to him on the couch. He glares at you. “What are you doing?”

“I miss you, Connie,” you whine, trying to free his arms from his chest. “Don’t you miss me?”

He shakes his head, relaxing only the slightest bit. “No, I don’t. I’ve worked too hard trying not miss you.”

“What do you mean?”

He finally looks at you, his gaze intense. “I moved because of you. I couldn’t take it anymore, watching you fall in love with every other guy except for me.”

“Connie.”

He unclenches, leaning towards you, face so close you can feel his breath on you as he speaks. “Do you know how hard it was for me? To hear you on the other side of the wall, moaning someone else’s name? And then months later, you’d come crying to me, wanting only my comfort to help you through your breakup. Then the cycle would just repeat over and over, driving me fucking insane because I could never have you for myself. I could only have you when you needed me, when you were heartbroken. Well, it wasn’t fucking fair okay? That’s why I left. I just couldn’t do it anymore.”

You stare back at him, wide-eyed, heart thumping loudly in your chest. Quietly, you say, “I’m sorry, Connie. I…I didn’t know.”

He scoffs at you, rolling his eyes. “Don’t lie to me. Why else would you come to me? You knew I was the only guy stupid enough to always say yes to you. So don’t fucking lie to me now and say that you didn’t know. You knew.”

You swallow hard before asking, “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Why would I? So I can get rejected and ruin our friendship? No. As much as I hated hearing you get fucked on the other side of the wall, I couldn’t stand not having you at all. Pretty fucked up, right?”

You remain still in your seat, unsure how to proceed from this. Eventually, he says, “You can stay here for the weekend, but I think it’s best if we just stop seeing each other after this, okay? It’s better for the both of us if we stop being friends.”

Before he can stand up to leave, you grab his wrist. “Well, good,” you whisper. “I don’t want to be friends anymore either.” You meet his lips with yours for a kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. He melts into you, his tongue slipping inside your mouth, easing into it. Realizing what’s happening, he pushes you off gently, stuttering, “What do you think you’re doing?”

You trail down his neck, sucking on his skin to leave love marks. “What I should have years ago.”

“You’re toying with me,” he whispers, closing his eyes, tipping your chin up to kiss you again. “Teasing me like you did all those times in college.”

“I’m not. I want it. I want you.” You lie back on the couch, spreading your legs for him. 

He crawls on top of you, sliding your pants and underwear off simultaneously, dropping them to the floor, salivating at the sight of your glistening cunt, wet with arousal. “Well, too bad. I don’t need you anymore. You won’t get what you want so easily this time. Not after all the torment you put me through. You need a taste of your own medicine first.” He shoves his sweats down, releasing his hard cock from his boxers, stroking it in his fist. With a shaky breath, he whispers, “Come on. Show me how badly you want it.”

You peer up at him, getting on all fours, opening your mouth with your tongue sticking out. He smirks, tracing the outline of your lips with the tip of his dick, smearing his precum on you like gloss. “Fuck, never thought I’d see you like this.” He guides himself inside you, exhaling deeply as he slides all the way to the back of your throat, cursing once more. You give him what he wants, never taking your gaze off him, guzzling down his cock with each thrust he gives you, bobbing your head along his shaft. 

“Damn, you feel even better than I imagined,” he moans, bucking his hips. After a couple more deep thrusts, you pull off quickly to catch your breath, wiping away the saliva leaking from your lips. “Hey, are you okay? Are you hurt?” he asks in that concerned tone you love so much. He sounds exactly like he did in college, when he would cradle you gently in his arms as you cried about your latest heartbreak, completely oblivious to how much pain it caused him to see you like this. Connie would never break your heart; it took you too long to finally realize this. And maybe it’s too late to fix the damage that’s been done. But that doesn’t mean you won’t try. 

You nod silently, reaching for the coffee table to take a sip of water. He wipes the tears from your eyes, brushing them away with his thumbs. “Are you sure?”

You smile at him, sniffling. “I’m sure, Connie.”

His expression is uncertain again. He doesn’t know whether to stay mad at you or be sweet. He’s always been sweet, and that obviously never worked out for him. If he shows you his mean side, will you stay? Does he even want you to stay?

You surround him again with your mouth, sucking on his cock head with your fist wrapped around his shaft. He closes his eyes, indulging in the pleasure, enjoying it a little too much. He won’t deny it; this has been one of his biggest fantasies since college, to see you like this. To feel you moan around his cock. And as much as he wants to continue spitting hurtful comments to you, make you feel guilty for toying with him all this time, his need to pleasure you overtakes him. His most precious fantasy is to finally hear you moan his name, and no one else’s.

He pulls out of you, jerking off while he tips your chin up to face him. “What do you want, huh? Want my mouth on you? Want me to eat out this pretty pussy? Is that what you want? Because I’ll give it to you, if you let me.” He’s desperate for it now, and so are you. So all you do is nod with your mouth still open, needy for it. 

He eats you out sloppily, better than any guy you’ve been with. This is what he wanted, to prove to you that it should have been him all those times. And you regret it, all the useless hookups and casual relationships you put yourself through when you could have been with Connie instead. You come twice from his mouth before you start begging him to fuck you. “Please, baby.”

His eyes widen at the pet name, cock throbbing, ready to burst. “Okay, sweetie,” he huffs, composure wavering. “I’ll fuck you. I’ll give you what you want. I’m always giving you what you want.”

You hold him tightly, moaning his name while he fucks you with your legs wrapped around him. “You’re so good for me, baby. So fucking good for me,” he groans, drilling into you hard and fast. “I missed you so fucking much.” He orgasms with you, unloading his cum inside you, filling you up. You kiss passionately as the both of you come down from your highs, relaxing into each other’s arms. 

It’s silent for a moment before you say, “I was going to tell you. On graduation day.”

“Tell me what?” he asks, grazing your lips with his fingers.

“That I liked you, too. And I wanted us to be together.”

He sighs. “But I told you I was moving, so you didn’t go through with it.”

“Yeah.”

He laughs softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Damn, we are really dumb, aren’t we?”

You giggle, nestling your face into his chest, relishing the familiar warmth. “Yeah, we are.”

He rests his chin on the top of your head, massaging your back. “So, should we stop being dumb and finally do this? The right way?”

You nod, smiling. “Yes. Absolutely yes.”

[hunieday]

Re:vale - 2D☆STAR Vol.5 interview

Please note that I am not a professional translator and I'm only doing this to share the side materials to those who cannot access them, if you notice any mistakes please let me know nicely. Enjoy!

This magazine has been released in November 2016 aka before part 3!

Interviewer: Thank you so much for your hard work with the shooting and outfit change! Pleased to work with you for this interview.

Interviewer: It's been a little while, but congratulations on the success of your 5th anniversary live performance at the Zero Arena inaugural event!

Momo: Thank you very much!

Yuki: Thank you.

Interviewer: Your live concert was very exciting. Could you please share your honest thoughts?

Yuki: It was our honor as Re:vale to be chosen to perform in such a special place like Zero Arena.

Yuki: I'm grateful to all the staff who worked hard to make the show a success, to TRIGGER and IDOLiSH7 for their support and their performances, and to all the fans who came to see us.

Yuki: I’m sincerely glad that Momo and I worked so hard together.

Yuki: Right, Momo?

Momo: Yeah!

Momo: I'm really grateful too! I want to thank each and every one of them as loudly as I can!

Yuki: We’re also glad we were able to cover a Zero song as planned.

Momo: And the exclusive one-night shuffle units with TRIGGER and IDOLiSH7 were super exciting too!

Interviewer: Speaking of TRIGGER and IDOLiSH7, they did perform a medley of Re:vale songs, how did you decide on that?

Momo: Actually they didn’t inform us about that, it was a complete surprise!

Yuki: It sure was.

Yuki: We were as surprised as the audience, if not more.

Momo: I almost cried even though we were about to perform!

Yuki: You mean you were actually crying.

Momo: Come on, Yuki, don't reveal Momo-chan's secrets so casually!

Yuki: Fufu. My bad.

Interviewer: I see. Thank you for sharing that precious memory with us!

Interviewer: Allow me to change the topic, could you share your thoughts on this cover photoshoot?

Momo: The shoot was so much fun! There was Re:vale spray-painted on the set which was very exciting!

Yuki: It was. The letters weren't very visible in the end because we stood in front of them, but it was nice to have a set specifically dedicated to us.

Momo: And the outfits exuded our adult charms thanks to the casual jackets and hats, don’t you think!?

Momo: Right, Yuki?

Yuki: Fufu. For me at least. Momo didn't give off much of an adult vibe.

Momo: Huh!? That's not true! I was oozing with charm, right!?

Interviewer: Yes! You both looked wonderful.

Interviewer: The theme of this issue is "Secret Talk with Close Friends", so please tell us about a moment where you felt grateful for having a partner.

Yuki: I'm not good at socializing or livening up the mood, so Momo's ability to make everyone around him happy helps me out a lot.

Momo: I'm happy, but you say that all the time~ Tell me something new!

Yuki: Then show us your example, Momo.

Momo: For me, it's Yuki's cooking!

Momo: I'm really happy that he makes dishes with meat just for me since he doesn’t even eat it! I can really feel your love!

Yuki: Hmm, I see what you mean.

Yuki: Then, during our indie days when Momo and I were still living together in poverty, Momo never got mad at me even when I was getting fired from my part time jobs. I’d love to thank you for that.

Yuki: Thank you.

Momo: You went back in time out of nowhere!?

Yuki: It's about how grateful I am to you ever since we started working together.

Momo: Here it is! Yuki's handsome comment!

Momo: You're in such high spirits today, you’re making my heart flutter!

Yuki: Fufu. Sorry for always being so handsome. 

Interviewer: Since we’re already at it, is there anything you'd like to tell your partner?

Momo: Yuki, there's still a confession you haven’t told me yet, right!?

Yuki: Why does it have to be a confession?

Momo: Because we're on the cover, so it's a great opportunity!

Momo: Please give me a warm confession that will convey our relationship to those who don’t know about Re:vale!

Yuki: Wait. Don't ask me to do things outside my expertise out of nowhere.

Momo: No way... I've always trusted you, Yuki... Was I just a game to you...!?

Yuki: No, not in the slightest.

Momo: If you don't share that special confession, Momo-chan might not recover...

Yuki: Ahh, are we doing this?

Momo: Momo-chan might not recover...

Yuki: Alright...

Yuki: "Until the end of the world, you’re the one and only partner for me in the universe." …*chuckles*

Momo: Yuki, you’ll ruin everything if you laugh at the end!

Yuki: I tried my best, so cut me some slack.

Interviewer: Thank you for the passionate messages!

Momo: Actually, TRIGGER’s Gaku came up with this line for me.

Yuki: The Number One most desired Man is also handsome on the inside, isn’t he?

Momo: I respect him for being able to churn out a dramatic line like that without any shame, even though he’s our junior!

Yuki: That’s right. No matter how many times I say it, it doesn't sound as manly as when he does.

Momo: You'll sound good if you don't laugh halfway through, Yuki!

Interviewer: Now onto the next question. Where do you see Re:vale in 10 years?

Yuki: I'll be 36, Momo will be 35, and it'll be Re:vale's 15th anniversary in ten years.

Momo: I'll work hard so that Yuki doesn't replace me with a younger guy!

Yuki: Hey, don’t say something that might cause misunderstandings.

Momo: Because I'm working on anti-aging!

Yuki: You’ll still be my partner even ten years from now, right? I’m looking forward to working with you more, Momo.

Momo: Yeah! Looking forward to it too, Yuki!

Momo: If I can still be with you and Re:vale in ten years then that's enough to make me happy!

Yuki: Thank you, Momo. I’ll be happy too.

Momo: I’m gonna be a bit greedy, but I’ll also be super happy if all our fans continue supporting us in ten years like they do now!

Yuki: Fufu. Indeed.

Interviewer: Lastly, please share a message for your fans who continue to support you.

Momo: I hope everyone enjoys the cover issue featuring Re:vale.

Momo: We were able to be on the cover of the magazine and succeed in the inaugural performance thanks to everyone's support! Thank you!

Momo: You have plenty of choices with so many charming idols featured in the magazine, including TRIGGER and IDOLiSH7, but please continue to support Re:vale!

Yuki: We were able to achieve all of this, from the magazine cover to the inaugural performance, all thanks to our fans who believed in Momo and I and kept supporting us.

Yuki: We will continue to do our best to keep offering the best Re:vale, so please continue supporting us.

The End

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

Does He Love You?

Fandom: Elvis, Elvis Presley, Elvis 2022, RPF

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Female Reader, Elvis Presley x Ann-Margaret

Characters: Elvis Presley, Female Reader, Ann-Margaret, Jerry Schilling, Joe Esposito, Red West, Sonny West, Colonel Tom Parker

Word Count: 3225

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Does he love you, like he loves me?

Tags/Warnings: Request, Requested Fic, Vaginal Sex, Kissing, Arguing, Cheating, Infidelity, Drunk Arguments, Betrayal, Angst, Hurt, Affairs, Established Relationship, Reba Song

Notes: This kinda reminded me of a Reba song at the end. It was giving me Jolene vibes but Ann Margaret knew they weren’t meant to be im sure.

Elvis Tags: @caitlin1996 @literally-just-elvis-fics @notstefaniepresley

Request by @elvispresleyxoxo - yes that’s completely fine! I was wondering if you could do one where reader knows elvis is cheating with ann margaret and confront him in front of all of the memphis mafia maybe even ann margaret if your comfortable with that! she tells elvis that she loves him ,shares like smutty details about there sex life ( if ann margaret is there could reader be like does he do that to you to, but again if your uncomfortable with that you don’t have to write that) , just overall a messy argument in front of everyone. but in the end elvis lashes out and takes her into another room and makes love to her and everyone can hear them she comes back like embarrassed but yk forgives him , you can choose the ending around the ann margaret situation if your comfortable writing that part x

One would think that being in a relationship with Elvis Presley would be fun. And for the most part, it is but not always. Sometimes the glitz and the glamour of Hollywood isn't parties and shows, it's dreadfully boring meetings with studio executives that come disguised as evening dinner parties. Whilst Elvis allowed the Colonel to negotiate most of the deals he was required to be present, something that no doubt allowed the Colonel to do what he wanted whilst having the excuse that Elvis never protested even though he was ten people down the table. As long as Elvis showed up the Colonel was happy but to keep Elvis happy he needed distractions. Which was why he brought friends. Members of the Mafia or me, someone he could talk to whilst they hashed out details of contracts that didn't interest him. The upside of these meetings was that they were largely comped by the networks meaning they were almost exclusively held in fancy hotels or restaurants rather than the dreary offices of Paramount. That was why tonight we would be dining at Perino's.

As we walked into the room my eyes roved over the table that was already jam-packed full of people, as ever we were the last to arrive. The majority of it was made up of men in stiff suits, business types, and members of Elvis' entourage who always tried so desperately to fit in at these things but somehow always seemed to look like boys play acting as Hollywood bigwigs. And then my eyes landed on the end of the table. On the only other woman in the room. Ann-Margaret.

Whilst Elvis' schmoozed his way through the crowd of people that had jumped up to greet him my eyes remained locked on her. Her red-golden hair was pushed back from her face, her natural makeup accentuating her large eyes and full lips in the dim ambient lighting. She looked beautiful. She was chatting to a man I didn't know seemingly unbothered by our entrance, a fact that made my heart sink. After all, why would she? She knew Elvis well. Too well. The novelty of his presence had no doubt rubbed off for her.

A million thoughts circled in my mind. What was she doing here? Had Elvis invited her? Had the network? I didn't know which of those options was worse. Either way, it signalled that she wasn't going anywhere much to my sadness. They had just debuted their first film together, Viva Las Vegas, and it was a hit. Elvis had even seemed to enjoy himself on this production which I was ecstatic for. He seemed more lenient with the scripts, happier to sing the same old songs he'd been given and altogether more enthusiastic whenever he'd called home. It was only when I flew out to Vegas for the last few days of filming I saw why.

I couldn't blame him I supposed. After all she was a beautiful, charming and magnetic woman. The press liked her. The Mafia liked her. Elvis liked her. But I couldn't bring myself to. He'd been like this before of course. No matter what I did he couldn't seem to stay true yet none of the others ever bothered me...but she did. Because I could feel the way he felt about her. The others never bothered me because I knew he didn't love them but with her? The potential was there. Another two or three films, who knew what could happen?

Tears stung at my eyes but I forced them back, going through the motions of greeting people until I could finally drop down into my seat beside Elvis. Ann-Margaret was sitting on his other side. I didn't listen to either of them as they started to talk. Instead, I grabbed the bottle of wine that had been left on the table and poured myself a large glassful, immediately sipping it down as much as I could. Neither of them even noticed.

✵✵✵

I didn't want to talk. I didn't want to even be here. As everyone laughed and joked around me I sat in silence nursing whatever number glass of wine I was up to and watching Elvis and Ann-Margaret talk. It was like slow torture. Every laugh, every coy smile, every touch of the hand was like another rock being placed on my chest until I couldn't breathe. I had to get out of there. I stood up from the table, gripping onto it for balance as the alcohol in my system hit me full on making me woozy.

'You alright honey?' Elvis said, finally noticing me. His hand gently touched the back of mine but I pulled mine out from under his.

'Fine, I just need the restroom,' I said. Elvis looked at me curiously but I didn't stay there long enough for him to ask any questions. I wanted to cry. Or scream. Or throw up. I fled to the bathroom and locked myself in the stall, trying to calm myself down. I knew there was no point getting upset. I couldn’t make a scene and I couldn’t go home not without Elvis wondering what was wrong so I put on my most composed expression and returned to the table trying to ignore the tears that threatened to spill over at any moment. I hurried my way back to my seat, noticing how the waiters had started arriving at the table placing our orders down in front of us. As a bowl full of pasta dropped into place in front of me a young waiter appeared at Elvis' side.

'Steak?' the waiter asked.

'Here,' Elvis said, allowing him to place the plate down in front of him. My eyes scanned his plate though where I expected to see a block of charcoal in place of steak I found a normal-looking piece of meat looking back at me.

'You should send that back,' I blurted out. Elvis looked at me for a second, suddenly realising I was back in the room, and shook his head.

'It's fine,' Elvis said as he picked up his napkin and dropped it on his lap.

'It's rare,' I said.

'Like I said it's fine,' Elvis said.

'You hate your food rare,' I said, utterly perplexed. It was true. Any who knew him knew that unless it was absolutely cremated Elvis wouldn't eat it. Before now he'd sent food back in restaurants up to three times until it was completely obliterated.

'It's not a big deal,' Elvis gritted out looking up the table. My voice had been louder than intended thanks to the alcohol meaning I was no longer the only one looking at him. He was now the spectacle of the show with almost everyone peering down the table at what was going on. He didn't flounder though and instead he cut a neat piece of meat off the end and though he couldn't stop himself from grimacing as blood oozed out onto his plate he hoyed it into his mouth and choked it down all the same.

'How is it?' I asked after it was gone.

'Fine,' he said, taking a sip of his iced water.

'See!' Ann said placing a dainty hand on his bicep, 'I told you it wouldn't be that bad.'

'What?' I said, confused. She looked at me with a smile though Elvis kept his head down sheepishly.

'Last time we had dinner he ordered this thing, it looked more like a tire than a piece of meat, and I told him all that burnt stuff was bad for his health,' she said, 'too many carcinogens. It's much healthier to have your meat medium or rare.'

'Yeah, I think I've heard that before,' Joe said from the side of me.

'The question is what isn't bad for you these days,' Sonny chimed in, 'though good on you for makin' EP change his mind about the bits of rubber he calls meat.'

'Yeah that's a feat in itself,' Joe said. Their conversation continued but I couldn't join in. My blood was boiling, the alcohol well and truly taking hold as I watched him. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. After years of moaning at him to eat someone that resembled an edible meal and him refusing he’d elected to make a change after one meal with her. It was like a punch to the gut. My jealousy took a hold consuming every fibre of my being. Elvis wasn't paying much attention and was instead scarfing down his pink steak punctuating it with sips of water to no doubt dilute the taste. My focus didn't land on him however, it landed across the table. I wanted to make her feel as bad as I did. To ruin her night like she had ruined mine. I could feel my words coming on fast and there was no way to stop them.

'Oh, I don't know. I wouldn’t say it’s that hard to change his mind,' I said taking a sip of wine as I rested back in my chair. I could feel several pairs of eyes land on me, including Elvis and Ann's.

'Remind me of that when I'm trying to pry him out of bed to go to the lot,' Joe chuckled.

'You just need to know how to handle him,' I said, 'ain’t that right sweetie?'

'You think you can handle me?' Elvis said quirking an eyebrow. He was playing along in front of the boys but I could see him hesitate, not knowing where I was going with it.

'Of course, though it seems like I'm not the only one. Right, Ann?' I asked with a fake smile. Ann glanced at Elvis and then back at me.

'Oh I wouldn't say I can handle him like you,' she said an embarrassed blush on her pretty face.

'But he listens to you,’ I said, ‘I mean you got him to eat something other than black steak. That’s some feat.’

‘Like I said it’s nothing,’ she said shifting awkwardly in her seat. I didn’t care though. I could feel more and more people staring curiously at me, wondering what the hell I was going on about, Elvis too but I didn’t pay them any attention.

‘How did you do it?’ I said.

‘What?’ she asked glancing at Elvis for help.

‘It’s a simple question,’ I said leaning forward and running my finger around the rim of my wine glass, ‘I mean I know how I’d do it. You know one time Elvis took me shopping and I found this beautiful Chanel number, you remember that right honey? The one with all the buttons? Anyway, he’s moaning about it telling me it looks like something a sailor would wear but me? I love it, so you know I did?’

‘What?’ Ann said quietly unable to ignore me as I watched her intently my gaze never wandering from her green eyes.

‘I got down on my knees and blew him right there in the dressing room,’ I said.

‘Y/N!’ Elvis snapped.

‘Soon got him to change his mind-’

‘That’s enough,’ Elvis said.

‘You know he can’t even see anything naval without sporting wood,’ I giggled.

‘Stop it,’ Elvis said standing up and yanking me out of my seat by my bicep. Though his grip was tight on my arm it was a good job he was holding me as I was unsteady enough that I would’ve toppled over if it hadn’t been for him.

‘What? We’re just swapping girly stories, right Annie? I bet she could tell me just how she gets you to do stuff don’t you think? I bet it’s not all that dissimilar, huh baby?’ I sneered.

‘You’re drunk,’ he said.

‘And you’re screwing your co-star,’ I said. Joe pushed my other side keeping me on balance as I yanked my arm out of Elvis’ grasp. Ann’s face paled before going deep crimson as she dropped her gaze to her lap. Elvis said nothing his face thunderous as everyone watched the pair of us just looking at each other.

‘Can’t even deny it can you?’ I said looking at him. I shook my head, grabbed the bottle of wine off the table and walked off out into the foyer. I didn’t know where I was going. The car wouldn’t be waiting and I didn’t feel like heading outside. I didn’t need to worry though as I felt a hand grasp my elbow, pushing me towards a door until I was roughly thrust through it into a storeroom of sorts. I fell inside, looking up to find Elvis standing by the door blocking my only exit.

‘What the hell do you think you’re playing at?!’ he snapped.

‘Me?! You’re fucking someone else and you’re angry at me!?’ I baulked.

‘It’s not like that,’ he said.

‘Yeah sure,’ I snorted.

‘Nothing’s going on,’ he said.

‘Nothing’s going on now? Or nothing’s ever happened,’ I said coming towards him. His jaw was tight as he looked down at me but my expression never changed. I was challenging him to tell me I was wrong.

‘It’s over,’ he said making me pull back shaking my head, ‘it has been for a while.’

‘Since I came to town and spoiled your fun?’ I said taking a swig from my bottle before setting it down on a shelf.

‘Since I remembered how much I love you,’ he said making me roll my eyes, ‘what you don’t believe me?’

‘Until I’m not around right,’ I said.

‘It’s not like that,’ he said coming towards me. I folded my arms across my chest to stop him from touching me, ‘you don’t think I know how pathetic I am? That I don’t know I’m weak? I know I’m not worth the ground you walk on and yet you still keep me around. I know I don’t deserve you Y/N…but I love you and I’m sorry.’

‘You always are,’ I said an errant tear trickling down my cheek. He moved to wrap his arms around me but I stayed still, letting his strong hold engulf me.

‘Do you love her?’ I said in almost a whisper. He was so close to me that I could feel the warmth of his breath on my face, the heat of his body matching that of my own.

‘Not as much as I love you,’ he said pressing his forehead to mine before he placed a kiss on my cheek. His lips kissed my tears away until finally, they landed on my lips. He kissed me, waiting for my permission to take it further. I tried to stop. I knew I should. But I loved him. I always would, so I moved my lips against his. He took this as a positive sign and deepened the kiss pushing me backwards until my back hit the wall. I didn’t do much of the work. His lips were everywhere all at once, touching every piece of skin they could find and leaving fire in their wake. His kisses were interspersed by murmurs of adoration as if his words could wipe away his actions for good.

‘I love you,’ he said as his hand slipped under my dress, teasing through my folds before he moved my panties to the side and slipped inside me, hoisting me up until my legs were wrapped around his waist. The wall was uncomfortable against my back but I couldn’t focus on that as Elvis’ fingers made their way to my sensitive bud, stroking it in time with his movements in and out of me. His name was all I could manage to whimper against his neck as the feeling of ecstasy started mounting in my core.

‘Baby,’ he grunted as his hips started faltering in rhythm.

‘Oh god,’ I said trembling around him with a whimper. He moved his hips in haphazard snaps against me until he groaned loudly, his breath hot and wet against my neck as he buried his face against my skin. After a moment he came round, pressing his forehead against mine. I could feel him softening inside me yet neither of us moved, my fingers tracing small circles on the nape of his neck as our breaths intermingled.

‘I love you,’ he said after a moment.

‘Enough to stop seeing her?’ I said.

‘Like I said. It’s over,’ he said pulling away from me so he could gently place me on my feet. His hand was tender against my cheek, his thumb stroking against my skin gently. I watched his face for a moment as if I would be able to tell the future from his expression alone. I knew it was pointless. I knew that whatever was going to happen in the future would happen regardless. But I loved him. With everything I had.  So, I pulled away and nodded ever so slightly. He kissed the top of my head and then led me out of the storage cupboard. There weren’t many people in the foyer but those that were there were sure to know what had just transpired. Joe, Sonny, Red and Jerry congregated by the door of the dining room probably unsure of what they were supposed to be doing in Elvis' absence. That or they were forming a human barrier in case I wanted to head back inside for round two.

‘Give me a minute,’ he said squeezing my hand before he dropped it and headed over to the boys where they began talking in hushed whispers. I could feel the eyes of the waitstaff watching me as I stood in the foyer and so I quickly ducked into the restroom to freshen up. I looked a little messy. My tears had given me black smudges under my eyes and my lipstick was smudged from Elvis kissing me. I grabbed a paper towel and started to retouch the damage but I slowed my actions down as I noticed the toilet door opening.

Ann stepped out.

‘Oh,’ she said, ‘um sorry I didn't know-’

‘It’s fine,’ I said straightening up and tossing the paper towel in the trash.

‘Y/N,’ she said coming towards me offering to put a tender hand on my shoulder but I moved out of her way.

‘Don’t,’ I said. We stood there watching each other for a moment. I didn’t know what I was feeling. Anger. Sadness. Who knew? Whatever it was it felt awful and it was made even worse by the fact she looked genuinely remorseful.

‘I really am sorry,’ she said.

‘Just,’ I said my words disappearing. I didn’t know what to say. After all, how could I blame her? The charm, looks and appeal she had been lured in by was the one that kept me hooked. I couldn’t resist it any more than she could. How could I blame her for giving in to temptation?

‘I can’t lose him,’ I said. My hand was on the door handle now, my gaze locked on it as I refused to look up at her.

‘You were never going to,’ she said capturing my attention, ‘I’m not what he wants.’

‘Yeah, who’d want a gorgeous movie star, right?’ I said.

‘It's what he wants for a night. You get his mornings. His afternoons. You’re the one he calls when he’s had a bad day,’ she said, her eyes were sad though she was wearing a sympathetic smile, ‘you’re the one who’ll get his last name.’

‘I hope you’re right,’ I said and with that, I slipped out of the bathroom. Elvis looked around as I came out. He was standing with Jerry, waiting for me by the main entrance, the others sent to handle whatever needed fixing on my behalf.

‘Everything okay honey?’ he murmured as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and led me outside.

‘Fine,’ I said with a small sigh, ‘just fine.’

[runin-reads]

Wilmon headcanons

Minor season 2 spoilers

After announcing their relationship to the world, I imagine Wille would be way more touchy/clingy in public. He’ll gravitate towards Simon at any given time now that there’s nothing to hide.

When they walk together they’re almost always touching, whether it be holding hands, Wille resting a hand on Simon’s waist or back pocket etc.

Wille knows basic Spanish thanks to his previous school and surprises Simon by speaking it, much to Simon’s delight.

Simon’s mother, Linda, LOVES Wille and will always say yes to having him over.

As a result Wille ends up loving Venezuelan food. He asks Linda for her recipes and then sends them to his chef back at the palace.

An ideal date for them is just staying inside, cuddling in bed, talking and doing domestic stuff like cooking together. But if you Wille what his ideal date is he’d just say “whatever Simon wants to do”.

Wille doesn’t really like horror movies but he’ll watch them for Simon’s sake.

They go viral on the internet all the time. Their most viral moment is when a tiktok user posted a clip of Wille trailing behind Simon with the “walk him like a dog” audio

Seriously, they’re the IT couple of pretty much the entire world, not just Sweden.

The royal tailor gifts Simon an entire new wardrobe so he can wear those clothes at important functions as Wille’s plus one.

Simon uses the newfound fame to release some songs he’s been meaning to post. They all go viral of course, especially after Wille mentions it to the press

Simon doesn’t like exclusively being known as the Prince’s boyfriend, but he prefers that over not being with Wille

If Wille ever visits Venezuela as part of his royal duties, he’s definitely bringing Simon along. It’s the best trip of their lives so far. Wille loves seeing Simon look around in wonder, speaking Spanish and meeting his other relatives.

Simon sings a song he wrote himself at Wille’s coronation and it’s so touching Wille has to stop himself from crying

When they’re older, Wille attends Simon’s concerts

Wille tries to teach Simon dining etiquette. Key word: tries. They’re so unserious they end up laughing and using their hands

[ironwoodprotectionsquad]

In a better written show, I'd honestly be down for a villain song that sounds totally heroic. It could work really well for a fallen hero or a villain who thinks they're a hero, and the noble lyrics being ultimately at odds with the character and their actions could be well done irony. But... RWBY is not well written. In fact, it's so badly written, that I genuinely can't tell if Hero was meant to be a villain song or not. Are the lyrics about saving people meant to be ironic, considering his later actions like trying to bomb Mantel? Or is it meant to be genuinely heroic since, like you said, Ironwood hadn't actually gone through his fallen hero "arc" yet (And some of James's more over-the-top villainy in V8 very well might not have even been planned at that point)?

So, like so much of RWBY, it's a potentially neat idea that either it wasn't well done or was just wasted, and it mostly just makes me think of ideas for a more interesting story.

In certain circumstances I could really see an ironic hero song really working either via misdirect with the lyrics or outright lying in the lyrics. But I need to emphasize under certain circumstances as even if R/WBY was a better written show…I don’t see something like that working.

For R/WBY this kind of song with double meaning lyrics or misdirect or even lying wouldn’t work because the nature of the songs in R/WBY is…complicated. Take for example bmblb. This song was released for the volume 4 soundtrack and fans got really excited thinking it meant the bees romance was canon. The writers came out and threw Jeff under the bus saying he was just trying out a different style of song and that it wasn’t based on anything or canon. Then volume 9 came out and then bmblb part 2 came out implying that bmblb was in fact canon all along. 

Not only that but what the songs well are is also constantly shifting like The Truth from volume 8 is more generally describing Cinders life while other songs are said to be what characters are thinking internally. Regardless even if the R/WBY songs were consistent in what they are narratively I still don’t think this kind of song trying to trick the audience would work since the characters aren’t even singing the songs. At least not in something like R/WBY. 

A character not singing a song meant to manipulate the audience doesn’t work in most things because it’s just the authors messing with the audience which is frustrating and pulls you out of the story and leaves a sense that the writers just are not competent writers since they have to resort to lying to the audience directly to make their story work and leave the audience unsure what even is canon or not. That’s not fun I most stories. However in stories where the audience is known by the characters to exist is when this type of manipulation works wonderfully. 

Take Doki Doki Literature Club, Monika not only knows about the players existence, but she is actively trying to earn their affection and make them fall in love with her. Her either singing a song or playing a song like this to manipulate the player themselves makes sense because she the character knows she’s in a game and knows there is a player watching her. Her being the one to manipulate the player is different because rather than it being the writers taking a lazy approach to trick the audience, there is a valid story reason for it to happen.

But using a heroic song to trick other characters in a musical I’d argue is also a valid approach. Having characters use double meaning to trick the character (and yes for a time the audience if we’re exclusively following the journey of the main character) into thinking they are good and when the truth is revealed the double meanings and the lies in the early song come to light is also a good way to do it. 

Frozen almost pulls this off with Love is an Open Door wherein it’s later revealed Hans was using Anna to steal the throne. I say almost because the writers use cheap tricks to lie only to the audience to sell it rather than just not showing us his POV and us trusting him like Anna. The scene I’m talking about is this scene in particular. 

There is no one here to see him besides the audience. The only people this smile is for us for the audience to trick the audience and make them think he is genuinely a good guy. If the scene had just cut away the second he fell in the water it wouldn’t be lying to the audience but because this moment exists the writers have gone from characters manipulating another character to the writers lying to the audience to make the betrayal more shocking later, when him just being awkward and nervous around Anna would have been fine because again it’s a character manipulating a character. Cut out this one little shot and “Love is an Open Door” works as a hidden villain song disguised as a love song. 

Sorry that was a long tangent about another almost works scenario so let’s play around with an example that could work hypothetically. Let’s pretend that Wreck it Ralph is a musical. And say King Candy sang to his subjects about how he “built the perfect kingdom” or something like that. We think initially it’s just him being over the top theatrical but then when the twist is revealed we know he really did rebuild Sugar Rush to be his perfect kingdom so he could always be the favorite racer.

Okay it’s not a perfect example I’m just mostly trying to get the point across as I am not aware of a movie that pulls this kind of trick off well so there isn’t a good example to show. Regardless Hero just doesn’t work.

To your question about what Hero is supposed to be. From my understanding of the writing it was supposed to always be a heroic song. The writers said initially that the ending of volume 7 was supposed to be vague with no real right or wrong side and that it was supposed to be unclear. They also said that James’s writing in volume 8 was changed and made more intense mid 2020. This is notable because volume 7 finished airing early 2020 so they would realistically know what fans were thinking and whose side they were leaning towards. Hero would have long since been written at this point which is why it makes sense it started off genuinely as a heroic song and once the writers didn’t like how many people where siding with James so they changed his arc in volume 8, the fans scrambled to try and somehow justify this radical shift in characterization. 

Maybe it would be less frustrating and I could roll with the double meaning theory about Hero if James’s arc in volume 8 was actually a well done fallen hero arc but it wasn’t. It was a rush job to try and make the mains look better that turned into an extremely ableist and harmful arc that butchered a well written character to prop up their poorly written mains.

But really even in a better written show their just isn’t any lines with actual double meanings that work for a fallen hero arc. Some people argue:

There’s no sacrifice that I won’t make

Is supposed to be about James’s willingness to sacrifice Mantle to stop Salem but….at the end of the gravity fight we see James willingly sacrifice his other arm to stop Watts. We see the payoff from that line immediately after the song ends with James literally searing the flesh off of his own arm.

Another section I see used sometimes is

I will fight

For you no matter how I am despised

Portrayed as cruel and heartless, I am might

I am power, I'm due process, I will smite

Our enemies destroy

Mettle I'll deploy

But generally it’s parts taking out of context to the narrative these lines are painting. I’ve seen people argue the part:

I am might

I am power, I'm due process, I will smite

Our enemies destroy

Mettle I'll deploy

Is James talking about enjoying destroying people ignoring again the context and the logical reading of some of the lines. The lines start off by talking about how he’ll fight for you, no matter how much people hate him and think he’s a monster. The line “I am power, I’m Due Process, I will smite” is likely a. Playing off of the name of James’s weapon (due process” and B. Trying to find a rhyme for “might”. But playing devil's advocate for a second here, even with the reading of James is ready to smite his enemies….saying he is ready to smite the seemingly endless army of soulless man eating monsters…well I struggle to see it as pure evil given said soulless nature of man eating monsters driven to destroy humanity. 

I also see people argue that “Our enemies destroy” is James thinking he would destroy his enemies which doesn’t make sense with how that line is, to me it reads as “our enemies destroy everything important to us” and the next line “Mettle I’ll deploy” is in response to their enemies destroying. 

Sorry this ask got insanely long I just had a lot to say hehe.

[mooseyspooky]

Sometimes I think about that interview that Morrissey gave to a french magazine announcing The Smiths breakup and he said that the band had gotten too close, desperately close to one another. I mean, he was obviously talking about he and Johnny. Then in a interview a few years later, Marr said that he hated the sexual tension that usually happens when you are in a band or something like that. I feel they both have given some clues about the breakup. A part of me thinks Johnny felt confused about being attracted to Moz and about his own sexuality. That's why he tried to act like a lad in the 90s. To me it was more than obvious that Morrissey became obsessed about jm and in a way, it was his first toxic love.

Yes, I've reblogged that interview before. I don't recall the Johnny interview you're talking about off hand, but...yeah.

I mean, there's so many layers to this. It's very easy to see Moz as the problem and absolve Johnny of the blame because he's "straight." Which, I completely don't believe. Johnny may not like to say it outright, but he's been sexually attracted to men many times in his life and his need for physical touch from men he finds attractive puts him firmly in the bisexual category to me. Johnny clung to Moz constantly, held him, slept against him, held his hand on plane rides to calm him down. Johnny spent all his free time with Moz, hardly ever seeing Angie - and when he did see Angie, Moz was with him most times. This happened with Bernard in the 90s, as well. Johnny hung out almost exclusively with a gay crowd back in the early 80s and had an openly gay best friend, Andrew Berry.

It's easy for me to see Moz overstepping boundaries when Johnny didn't seem to have any. He loved Moz writing queer coded music, has admitted he pushed for it - Johnny let Simon Wolstencroft go because he didn't like it. If Moz thought he had a chance with Johnny, well. I can't blame him. It must have been a huge slap in the face when Johnny told Angie hey let's get married, and then threw a shitty wedding the next day. To have spent that much time with someone, to be elbow to elbow with them, for months. To have written so many love songs. To have written What Do You See In Her/Him and been so fully convinced that Johnny was his - only for Johnny to just be like no, actually Angie and I are getting hitched now. She's apparently the one, true love of my life. Like, that's some serious mixed messaging.

So if Johnny "hates" the sexual tension, well. He only has himself to blame, I feel. And his shift in appearance during the 90s was surface level at best when he was doing the exact same thing to Bernard for the entire decade.

[27dragons]

Quiz Meme thing for people over 50 - via @gilajames

1. Name one body part that doesn't hurt: my elbow (who gets that reference? but really mine doesn't hurt. at least not today.)

2. Were you able to answer #1 because you have taken ibuprofen recently? Nope, I haven't been able to take ibuprofen at all for a few years now because I'm prone to ulcers. (I also haven't taken any tylenol/paracetamol, because it straight up doesn't work for me for pain relief. It lowers fevers, but that's it.)

3. Name one activity you are greatly relieved you don't do anymore because fuck that shit: change diapers and otherwise deal with any (literal) shit that isn't my own

4. Have you gotten at least eight hours of sleep in the past five days. (Not each night, just total.) Oh yeah, I average about 6.5 hours a night and on the weekends sometimes it stretches to seven!

5. Name one song that is NOT forty years old, what the fuck. The 1980s were, like, twenty years ago. Fuck you, the 80s were like, five years ago at most lol. That said: The Hamilton soundtrack, and also "Panic" by David Ford. Those are only like 10-15 years old.

6. Do you remember the last time you got carded (not counting 'we have to card everyone' places.) If we're not counting "card everyone" places, then I have never been carded. When I bought booze legally for the first time on my 21st birthday, they did not card me. Apparently I radiate an aura of "yeah she's old enough."

7. Name one musician that you keep hearing their name but have no clue what their music is. My Chemical Romance, I guess (I have a general idea what the music is but I don't know that I've actually heard it. I could be wrong about that I suppose but I definitely didn't know it.) I'm not really a music person, this is a lot of music questions for me.

8. Have the celebrities you loved as a kid started dying of old age? A few but not too many yet.

9. Have the celebrities you loved as a teenager started dying of old age? Same.

10. When did you start listening to the Oldies station? Another music question? I mean, I listened to the oldies station when I was in frickin college because I don't care about music and that was the station my boyfriend at the time liked. I really only listen to music in the car, and after I dumped that guy I switched to listening almost exclusively to tapes, CDs, and music downloaded to an iPod/phone.

11. Have you told a younger co-worker any form of the phrase "wait until you're my age/older/hit your 40s, then you'll..." Not really, though I've done the "wait until you have kids who are [age] thing to younger co-workers, and commiserated with co-workers of similar age about all the shit that hit us after 40.

12. Do you seek out older co-workers so you can quote something at them that they will get? Nope, because I am a work-from-home introvert. :D

13. Would you rather just stay home? At least 85% of the time, YES.

14. Have you reached the point that for birthdays, other gift-getting events, you say "I just don't need more stuff"? No, because I love getting gifts. When I was young, my mom told me she didn't care what was under the Christmas tree for her, she just loved opening presents. Seriously, one year when I was like 14 I got her a 6-pack of socks and wrapped each pair individually and she LOVED it. I thought she was crazy then, but I get it now. Anyway the only people who get me actual gifts these days are the Things and I'm not going to discourage them because they're so fun.

15. Do you often find yourself saying "I remember when" and you describe something so completely foreign to Life Today that you wonder if you made it up? All the FUCKIGN TIME

16. Did you look at this list at the beginning and hope it was a short quiz because you don't have time for those 50 item lists? Lol no because this counts as social interaction for me these days.

My fellow "old" tumblrs, join in the fun! (Or don't, I'm not the boss of you.)

[futureplayboibunnie]

‘Unpredictable’

Dr Strange x fem!reader

- me when i get carried away again. lord this one has me in my feels cause its so angsty and cathartic and smutty and all that jazz. possessive Stephen is my niche, nuff said. i also took some inspo from the song ‘body paint’ by the arctic monkeys cause i got a request from it and a few other requests for a hurt/angst/ smut fic. ENJOY

You were so predictable.

Being a complete master of deception, subterfuge and trickery, it was only you could ensure such things on the conscious of whoever was stupid enough to fall into your traps.

Stephen Strange fell for all your traps, and if he could he would be so idiotic to fall for them over and over again.

Again, you were so predictable. The walls building up again that took him so long to tear down, one thing goes wrong and you put up that sad dreary face as well as your need to be a hermit, hiding away from the sun so it wouldn't be able to see you cry. It was tragic, almost Shakespearean, a Greek anthology of love, lust and whole lot of broken trust. Clumsy with the heart that lead him away from his troubles, the heart that can be as bleak and black as the darkened sky- switching up whenever it was deemed necessary. Said once again, you were predictable.

He really fucked up this time. Friends with benefits was never a mutually exclusive deal in the first place even though it was always advertised to be. Stephen was lying with you in bed, stroking straying strands of hair after a wild ride of heady and intimate sex, everything was so perfect- too perfect to the point he said the fated words of 'I love you.’

The words just fell out. Did he mean it? No, yes. Probably. You were just…so good for him, he needed goodness in his life, you make him good when all he wanted to do was take his anger out on the world that made him who he is. You could read him like an open book, letting him take all of this frustration out on you when all the fights and threats made a cyclone of panic and grit swirl in the caves of his chest. You were there, ready to take it all away.

You missed him, but you lay your bed...now you needed to lie in it. What made it all the more ironic was that it was Valentines Day, how delightfully cliche.

It isn't the fact that he said 'I love you', it was that he was in love in the first place. He felt it, identified what it was and he said it- he shouldn't have felt love for you in the first place. You'd only disappoint him, you wouldn't be able to give. Stephen what he wanted. A relationship. This deal is now null and void, letters addressed to the fire. Forgetting about it seemed like the only way out of this hellcasted abyss.

You could let yourself grieve or you could fumble about with the piano in the centre of your apartment. Bored of all the thoughts, you wandered to your piano, sat yourself down and fiddled with a few random keys- losing yourself in the music. It was now just dawning on you. The moon wasn't as bright as it used to be since you left Stephen, the windows from ceiling to floor being evident of that- the stars were twinkling but barely. It was so dark, the array of lit candles strewn around the place were enough to make the atmosphere much less stark. The neon lights of the high street adding a faux glow.

Being sad made you annoyed, you needed to suck it up. It was just an entanglement after all. Your fingers pressed against the ivory of the grand piano, setting the same note over and over again- as if it were a reflection of your days without him, one note, the same, monotonous, tedious. He really lit a fire under your ass, catching you out as a means to make you smarter. Now it was as if you were stuck in a doom and gloom 50s neo-noir, you had the sexy self loathing all you needed now was a lighter and a pack of Parliaments.

Stephen was outside your door. He never chased after a woman, but your loss hit him harder than ever, unlike anyone else. The image of you leaving surfaces in his minds eye as he stares: your sad, ashen face stricken with hurt and confusion. The memory burned- it was painful and unwelcome. Stephen portrayed himself as noble, willing to sacrifice the one for many but when it comes to you it was damn near impossible.

I made her that miserable.

He frowned at the thought.

He took everything too far, too quickly. It fills him with the dread he's become all too familiar with since you left him. His reunion with you is something he didn't want to mess up, he didn't have the tip to straighten out the kinks of what he was going to say to you...because he didn't even know what he was going to say at all.

Maybe you never wanted to see him again. Maybe you were fucking someone else.

He winces at the thought. He would much rather have you never see him again than anyone else laying a finger on you, touching you, fucking you. A carefree exchange with anyone else made his concern and sadness turn into rage.

I'll break their fingers off from the fucking knuckle.

Stephen knew he was being an asshole when he didn't give the grace of knocking on your door, he just opened it.

Lost in your idle overthinking, the dim lights of the candles and the music flowing from your fingertips, you were too distracted to see that Stephen had let himself in. You peered up and stopped the movements of your hand, eyes widening slightly, but you didn't show him any of your thoughts or feelings even though you were filling with rage at his gall- you just acknowleged him blankly, as if he were a stranger. Your eyes stripped him bare and left him raw as they did the first time he saw them.

‘’Get out.’’ You said meekly but your words didn't offer enough strength to fill it through, you were becoming red with fury and blue with sadness all at once.

Stephen closed the door, letting himself flow into the scent of candles and sombre music.

God, the fucking cliche of it all.

He didn't talk, he just let himself wander to you. You were stilling with every step he took near but you were too tired to fight him off when he sat next to you, growing closer to your body heat. Not acknowledging his presence, you continued playing as a means to drown him out. Stephen sat with you, staring at every move you made intently through blackened eyes.

The scent of her.

Stephen took your hand and you freezed, playing uneven notes, shock causing you to halt in your tracks as he clasped your hands in his and held them together tightly. The physical reaction Stephen teased out of you was irritating- your lips loosened immediately, and you found yourself expaining your feelings.

‘’I don't want you to go.’’ Your voice seemed certain.

Again, switching up- predictable and ironic.

‘’The last time we spoke, you left me.’’ He murmured, the colour draining from his grief stricken face. ‘’Forgive me if I'm a little nervous.’’

Man up Strange! Look her in the eye and tell her what you want.

Your eyes locked with his, a perpetual and never ending battle between two sad people aching for an escape. A relationship with him would make this dream of yours all too real, when it was just hookups and when it felt clandestine. It felt like a dream you could indulge yourself in every now and again, and it was so good- no strings tying you back to reality...but now he wants to pull the rug from under you and wake you up from it. The two of you in love would mean that it would make you weak, someone could take him and strip you of all your humanity- you would go insane if anyone took him from you. With all of these threats in the world, it wasn't an option you were willing to entertain.

You loved him. You did.

‘’I don't want you to go.’’ You repeated again, this time your voice was wavering and cracking from the pain, or hurt or confusion, the want, the need for him...you didn't know what you were feeling at this point...all you knew is that it was a heavy feeling on your chest.

Stephen kissed your hands and smoothed your fingertips with his thumb, he peered back up at you, he was watching your every move. You were sure the tears were about to fall down the skin of your cheeks but you sucked them back in.

‘’I'm not going anywhere...Just tell me what you want.’’ He attempted to coax you out with reassurance.

Your mind was travelling to a million different places at that request. What do you want? You wanted Stephen to stop this ever immortal White knight quest, you wanted him to fuck off and get out, you wanted your love for him to be his only constant, you wanted him to fuck all of the sadness out of you right now...make you his.

‘’I don't want you to love me, I don't want to love you but...I need you.’’ You whispered as your fingers found its way out of his hold and went straight to his hair, playing with tufts of it to absolve you of your irrational fear of losing him forever.

Stephen was rendered speechless, your hold on his hair being his only anchor to reality.

You loved him? The world wasn't spinning right on its axis, he was sure it was a one way street, but you proved him wrong. Unpredictable?

His palm was twitching, he wanted to get his hands on you- feel you. It was as if the sun hadn't risen for days, he was in perpetual night without you.

So help me God, if anyone even thinks about hurting you.

You made him jealous. He lost control. Impossible, confusing woman. But you needed him now...that was enough. Stephen's bodily reaction was visceral.

‘’I need you.’’ You whispered softly against his lips as reassurance, his eyes were still transfixed on yours.

‘’Good.’’ Stephen said simply. He'd care about wanting to love you forever later, right now all he wanted to do was feel you- even if it was for tonight.

Your lips connected with his, a brutal clash of pent up frustration, sadness, jealousy, pain rendered physical through mouths. It almost felt metaphysical, something beyond purpose and reason. His hands fell to the sides of your neck, grasping tightly as you clambered onto his lap. You settled there as if it was home, big arms holding you steady- melting into him already. Your blood was burning, yearning for a future that wasn't possible- but in this moment it didn't matter. He tugged on your hair harder and it made him open your mouth that much wider to taste at you, it was as if the stars were aligning once more- the thought kickstarted your heart.

Stephen kept replaying your words in his head, it's not right for both of you to fall for each other, but you did.

She loves me. He thought, it was almost dreamy.

Even though you could take care of yourself and he hated cliches, he wanted to be the one to find you over at a bar...save you from the resident asshole that's been stripping you naked with his eyes and wants to get in your pants; Stephen would drape his arm around your shoulder and pull you towards him, freeing you from unwanted advances.

Hey, baby, is this guy bothering you?

You'd melt into him, relieved. Stephen would most likely want to rip the 'fuck you' expression from the asshole's rugged, smug face, he would fall into that macho hubris of protecting what was his. Being a show off wasn’t foreign to him. You would be pissed, obviously...but the asshole wanted what Stephen had.

Keep your hands off my girl.

My girl.

It was Valentines Day after all, he was brimming with overused romantic cliches- no matter how much he hated them. The hero of the story. Being a real life superhero meant nothing if he wasn't the Knight in shining armour. How beautifully ironic.

Now this was something unpredictable.

You were becoming more desperate now, eyes darkened with desire, feeling the heat from his body, the way he was hardening under you. It was searing you white hot forever. You wanted to be bathed in it but Stephen has always been into delayed gratification- that one time he edged you for a week suddenly popped into mind. He fucked you over your own kitchen counter after his torture. The thought was simply spurring you on, you ground down on his rough jeans, internally relieved that you weren't wearing any pants and only a shirt. His hands roamed free on your body before grabbing you and laying you down on top of the grand piano.

Stephen's mouth was still bound to yours, as if witchcraft. You wondered at how in his presence he made you feel an entire spectrum of emotions: from angry, to sad, to fearful and to carnal. Before Stephen, life was but a bore, a monotonous mission to get through every waking day, but when he scooped you up everything changed. Being with him is like being in a storm, all emotions colliding and crashing together, then surging and ebbing away. Right now the only emotion he felt was intense arousal.

‘’You see what you do to me?’’ Stephen panted into your skin, fawning over your body in the dim moonlight, impatient fingers itching and clawing to get your shirt off. He got it done in half the time.

‘’Stephen, I haven't stopped thinking about the way you know exactly how to get me like this...it's hell.’’ You whispered as you helped him get off his shirt.

Hell? Perhaps. Sometimes he thinks he was made in hell...but you were an angel.

‘’I'm not stopping now.’’ Stephen bit are your jaw and neck, littering you in the marks he knew you loved but forced him to avoid. No. Not anymore.

The possession in the statement made you shiver, your fingernails dug into his shoulder blades as a response. Lust and need was thickening your blood and it made you moan into his mouth; he took it as a wake-up call when your tongue wrestled with his- erotic, raw, intense.

Stephen's nimble fingers stripped you of your underwear, you were naked and begging under him- the way he likes it. His whole body tightened at the sight of you, he just needed to be buried in you. He felt pathetic letting you get under his skin but he couldn't find it in himself to care- not when you perched yourself up and your hands flew to hasitly and roughly unbutton and unzip his jeans.

‘’Whoa..easy, easy.’’ He said in an attempt to tame you, finding an aburd amount of pleasure in the way you just couldn't wait.

‘’Don't make me wait.’’ You said, deadly serious as you got it off for him.

Relentless and infuriating. Perfect.

Your legs parted further for him and he nestled between the sweet valley of your thighs once more, it was automatic at this point. You attempted to create friction but Stephen, being shameless as always, wanted to drag it out.

Your whole body buzzed, when his beautiful fingers played with your pussy, dragging up and down and toying with your clit as a means to see you fall apart. You whimper at his intent focus on your face, the reaction he pulls from you when he plays and teases you like this. It makes his ego soar. You had the ability to make him feel ten feet tall.

‘’I missed the face you make when I touch you.’’ He grunted and he swallowed your moans and sharp exhales. You were so wet, it was bordering on dangerous. ‘’Beautiful...and mine.’’ Stephen didn't mean to say the last word but it just fell out, he'll deal with the ramifications later.

You were tense. Too tense. That stretch he moulded was making you unrevel, his cock entering and exiting you without any avail. One hand on your waist and one hand in your hair, swollen parted lips meeting with his in a fit of neediness and desperation you haven't felt in time. It was a burning and overwhelming feeling; his rutting inside of you felt so brutal and so good it was intoxicating.

‘’Fuck me harder.’’ You blinked up at him. ‘’Please?’’ You smiled bashfully, remembering the delightful importance of politeness. The last time you felt yourself smile seemed eons ago, but here you are.

He let out a breathy chuckle at your impatient request, but he let you have your fun considering he did as you asked. It was much harder this time, the pump of him hitting that spot that made you see the sparkling of stars.

Stephen let go of his control, his surpression of impulses, he completely lost his mind when you wrapped your fingers in his hair and bit his ear. A turn on you teased out of him of course. Stephen put you out of your misery, stretching you in a way you didn't think was humanly possible; you often thought of him as unhuman- his name was Strange after all.

‘’That's my girl.’’ He panted and with those three words you felt yourself come undone.

His girl.

You were swooning.

Fuck Valentines Day.

An overwhelming heady feeling awashed you with the feeling you've been craving, he worked you through your orgasm, that scream ripping through your throat told him all he needed to know. A collision of moans and prolonged pants symphonised in the air as you both emptied yourselves.

Shit.

Stephen lay down next to you on the piano, it was like you were both in a smoky, jazzy vintage Hollywood film. Again, fuck Valentines Day. You spent no time clinging onto him desperately, it felt so wrong and so right- an impossible mindfuck. He held you in his big arms, drunk off the feeling you gave him.

You needed to tell him how you felt about him, about the possibility of a relationship. A frown contorted on your face at the thought that soured your mood.

"My girl''

‘’I-‘’ You started but he cut you off almost immediately.

‘’Don't...’’ Stephen muttered under his breath. ‘'Just don't say anything...Let me just lay here with you, even if it's the last time.’’He sounded forlorn and melancholic, accepting of his fate that he's lost you.

‘’No…Just listen to me.’’ You peched yourself up to look at him in his eyes, swirling in a cyclone of quiet sadness and loss.

‘’I don't need to tell you I love you... I'm just scared that loving you is going to make me feel weak, like I can't protect you. Like I have the chance to lose you. Saying we should be together, makes it real and when it's real...all I can think about is losing you.’’

Your face was etched in guilt and anxious uncertainty, so afraid of what the future may hold for both of you. Stephen was sure he couldn't love you anymore than he did right now. You were just as overprotective and crazy as he was, crazy in love, crazy for you- it was all intertwined.

‘’You should be more worried about what I'll do to anyone who touches you rather than me.’’ He smirked slightly and it made a scoff fall from your lips.

‘’Stephen. I'm serious.’’ You glared at him through heavy and exhaused lids. Oh, he could be so obtuse and pious sometimes.

‘’So am I. You make me stronger, you make all the wars worth fighting for and that is the thing that gives me strength. Maybe you should let it give you that strength too...’’ He trailed off, actually registering and acknowledging his feelings when he said them out loud.

‘’How philanthropic.’’

‘’Shut up and listen. I love you. I don't care what the future holds but all I do know is that I want to be next to you day by day, night by night.’’

You'd never seen him so certain ever, it made a swollen bubble of light swell in your chest, the heaviness gone.

Okay. Whatever the future holds, you would wait for it when it comes.

‘’Okay.’’ You whispered with a weak smile on your face.

'’Okay.’’ Stephen repeated with a shit eating grin that threatened to split his face apart, he was attempting to contain how surreal he felt. He was giddy, he wanted to jump your bones right now and take you again just out of pure happiness. He pulled you into his arms and you let out a playful yelp, peppering kisses over your skin as you laughed.

Unpredicatable...huh..

‘’You being unpredictable...I thought that I'd never live to see the day.’’

——-

me when i get carried away again.

[shivunin]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @greypetrel---thanks, as always! 💗

Tagging in turn (no pressure!) @star--nymph @ndostairlyrium @daggerbean @zenstrike @blightbear @inquisimer @dreadfutures @dungeons-and-dragon-age @nightwardenminthara @vakarians-babe

First, Warden scarf update: Progress is much quicker now that I am working on a more standard stitch. I am really enjoying the silver next to the blue and looking forward to the chainmail-y look it'll have as I add more rows. I am toying with trying to make an embroidered griffon, but that's an ambitious amount of embroidery for my current skill level. Still workshopping it a bit, but hoping to finish for the end of the month. Also, I finally found the right purple for the Leliana scarf, so I can finally finish that one, too!

And also, I have been working on some Baldur's Gate fic (below) as I feel out voice and dynamics:

“Back to camp?” she asked the others. 

Grumbling, they staggered their way back toward the clearing they’d chosen for the night. 

“What was it like?” Shadowheart asked, some time later. “Being a prodigy, I mean.”

Tav glanced sideways just in time to catch Gale’s grimace. The orb troubled him, she knew; he’d called himself prideful before, and perhaps losing so much of his skill had humbled him. Even so, nobody liked to have their nose rubbed in what they’d lost. Very well, then. She would take this blow much as she’d taken the arrow aimed for the wizard’s neck not half an hour earlier. 

“Lonely,” she said, finding the path before her and focusing on it. “You are held apart. Always praised before anyone else. Your peers resent you, even as they wish to imitate you. Mentors teach you your art at the exclusion of all other skills; the holes left by that sort of thing are never found until years later. One day, you realize that you are a master of your craft—this is around when everyone else has already learned how to make friends and fall in love and plan a life outside of your specialty. In this, you are woefully behind. But the acclaim—from far away, everybody loves you. They talk about you in their fine halls and in the city streets. They write poems and songs about what you’ve done.”

She sighed, still trying to find the words. 

“But by then—you never get to be a person again. It’s already too late.”

A bird sang in the tree overhead. Distracted, Tav paused and peered up at it. A simple tree sparrow, she thought. It blended almost perfectly with the branch it perched atop.

“Lovely day, innit,” the bird said, and she smiled slightly. 

“It is. The best I’ve seen in an age.” 

“You take care down there,” the bird said, peering down at them. “Big crowd of arseholes wandering round the woods these days. Burning trees, like.”

“I’ll be careful,” she promised, and the wound on her shoulder ached at the words. “Safe flight. Warm nest.”

“And you as well, mum,” the bird said, and fluttered away into the shadows of the wood. 

Tav hummed to herself, thinking about the smoke they’d seen in the distance. How far away might it be from camp? If someone really was burning the wood, they ought to do something about it before it caused even more harm than the crashed nautiloid. 

“Gods,” Astarion said, abruptly at her elbow, and she started. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say so many words at once. Did that spider knock something loose in that hard—I mean darling head of yours?” 

“Yes,” Shadowheart agreed, peering at her. “Awfully specific, too. What was it you said you did again? Before the tadpole and the crash, I mean.”

“Oh, nothing,” Tav told them, turning again to catch the last sight of the sparrow through the trees. “I’ve lived at the temple for years. I’m no one of any account.”

She started walking again. This seemed the best way to avoid the question—the other two being the ones most likely to spend long hikes grumbling than any of her other new companions. Unfortunately, Astarion kept pace with great ease. This was the trouble with all the armor, she decided unhappily. Once she got going, she could barrel right into an ogre and knock it over, but he had her beat for sheer speed. There would be no escape. 

“Oh, really?” he said. “And yet I somehow get the feeling you aren’t being entirely honest. Come now, darling, you’re among friends. Surely it wouldn’t kill you to share something. We’re all just dying to know more.” 

Something delicate and sharp crawled up her throat. Glass; always shattered glass. Tav choked it back and focused on the trees and the ground beyond. 

“We hail from the same place,” she reminded him, glancing at the pale elf from the corner of her eye. “You said yourself you don’t recognize me.”

Because she had shut herself away in her workshop for years. He almost certainly knew her name—the old one—but he would not know her now. What a blessing that was, from the hands of her Morninglord himself. How little it mattered then that she did not recognize herself when it meant that nobody else would, either. 

“I suppose I did,” he said, but his eyes remained narrow. 

“Say now,” Gale called from behind them, “about those boots you found. I think I’ve deciphered the enchantment on them. Rather clever—and simple to explain, too. You see—”

He launched into a detailed explanation not only of the boots in question, but also the method by which they might have been enchanted in the first place. Tav breathed a small, private sigh of relief and nodded to him in thanks. Gale smiled back, eyes crinkling at the corners. The topic, it would seem, had been dropped. 

For now, at least. 

[angelasscribbles]

Victim of Love Chapter 10: Looking Backward

Series: Victim of Love

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Drake x Riley

Word Count: 1,682

Rating: MA

Warnings for this chapter: Language

Song Inspiration for series: Victim of Love by The Eagles

Tell me your secrets I'll tell you mine

This ain't no time to be cool

My other stuff: Master List.

Riley frantically dug through the discarded pile of clothing from the night before, “Shit! I don’t have any clean clothes!”

“Um…down the hall, second door on the right, that’s the room Sav uses when she visits. Go see if you can find something in there.” His sister hadn’t been to the cabin in years as far as he knew, but he also didn’t think she would have bothered retrieving any extra clothes left there when she had moved to France.

Riley sprinted down the hall and into the room, rifling quickly through drawers. In less than three minutes she was back wearing a pair of yoga pants and a T-shirt that fit well enough, “Hurry, let’s go!”

Drake had pulled on a clean shirt and was lacing up his shoes, “Yeah, coming!” He nearly tripped as he stood and swiped the keys off the bedside table before stumbling to the door.

They were pulling out of his driveway eight minutes behind Liam. “You sure this is a good idea? I know you want to support Liam but-“

“This isn’t about Liam! It’s about Hana!”

“I thought you two hated each other…”

“We do! I mean we don’t…I mean she’s my best friend! Was my best friend….I just need to know she’s okay, her and the baby, all right?”

“Yeah, of course!” He reached across the console and took her hand, “I get it. I’ll get you to the hospital, don’t worry!”

“Thanks,” she gave him a grateful look, “I know this whole situation is a complete mess. You probably wish you’d never bumped into me in that ballroom.”

“Are you kidding?” He scoffed, “This is the most excitement I’ve had in years. I hang out almost exclusively with cattle and they’re pretty boring.”

That got a smile out of her, “Not very talkative, are they?”

“Oh, they’re very talkative!” He corrected her, “In fact, they rarely shut up! I just don’t speak bovine.”

She snorted, “I don’t believe you. I think you’re probably fluent in it!” She knew he was using humor to distract her, and she was grateful for it.

Her feelings for Hana were complicated. They had become best friends over the course of the social season, culminating in Hana confessing romantic feelings for her.

Desperation laced Hana’s voice as she implored, “The coronation is in two days, Riley, but he can’t pick either of us if we’re not here! Let’s just go, me and you! We can be together!”

“Oh, Hana….I love you, but-“

Hana’s face lit up as joy infused her entire being, “I love you too, Riley! So much! I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, I didn’t even know it was possible to-“

“Hana, stop! Listen!”

“What?” Hana’s big doe eyes searched hers, “What is it?”

“I love you but not the way I love him! I love him, Hana, and if he picks me, I’m going to say yes!”

“Oh!” Hana dropped her grip on Riley’s arm and stepped back like she’d been electrocuted.

“Hana, please-“ Riley reached for her, but the other woman sidestepped her.

“You kissed me….” Hana’s voice was barely audible.

“In a truth or dare game!”

“But…” tears pooled in her eyes, “It felt so real!”

“It was real, Hana! It just wasn’t what I have with Liam. I should never have kissed you! I didn’t mean to mislead you, I’m sorry, I-“

“Why would you say that?” Hana looked like she’d been struck, “You regret the kiss?”

“Yes! I mean no! I mean I regret that I hurt you, that you’re confused about-“

“I’m not the one that’s confused, Riley!” An emotion swept across Hana’s face that Riley had seldom seen there: anger.

“Hana-“

“You’re going to regret this someday, Riley, he doesn’t love you like I do! He can’t!”

If Riley had known what was coming down the pike on coronation night, would she have made a different decision? She and Hana could have gone to Shanghai, or New York, or anywhere in the world really, the two of them could be happy with each other right now leaving Liam to Olivia or Madeleine or whoever the royal council deemed suitable.

But instead, when Liam had broken her heart, he hadn’t just taken himself away from her, he had ripped Hana away from her as well.

“I choose….Lady Hana Lee!”

Riley’s heart stopped. NO!

She had known the council was still debating her approval, but she had really believed Liam would be able to sway them. She had also believed that if they didn’t approve her, he was going to refuse to get engaged, to anyone, because he had told her as much.

She found Hana in the crowd. She had been avoiding her, they hadn’t spoken since Riley had rejected her advances. Hana looked as shocked as Riley felt, but as their eyes met, a slow smile crawled across Hana’s face, and she shook her head from side to side.

Riley watched as Hana climbed onto the stage, took Liam’s hand, and found Riley’s gaze again before exclaiming, “I accept!”

Riley turned and ran from the ballroom, but there was nowhere to run to, the one person she would have gone to for comfort, for solace, had just participated in ripping her heart from her chest.

She flung her clothes into a suitcase and sent a text to Max: Bring the car around, I need to get out of here now!

She had left the palace that night planning to return to New York to lick her wounds. At least her student loans were paid off. She could take a few months to heal before starting a job search. Her apartment was gone but her parents would let her stay in her old room.

Her path forward had been clear until Liam had shown up on her doorstep.

“Riley, please! If you’ll just listen!”

“Listen to what, Liam? You promised me a future!”

“We can still have a future!”

“How? You’re engaged! To my best friend!”

“Because the council wouldn’t approve you! I had no choice!”

“You had a choice! You could have refused to get engaged to anyone! That’s what you told me you were going to do if the approval didn’t come through!”

“Yes, but that was before I found out my father is dying, Riley! I couldn’t be crowned king without being engaged and he has weeks left to live!”

“What?” She turned her tear-streaked face up to him, “How long have you known that?”

“I found out moments before the coronation when I told him I was going to wait another season. That’s when he told me that we didn’t have another season!”

“Oh.” She didn’t know what to say to that.

“Please stay, I love you; we can make this work!”

“How? I don’t even know if Bertrand wants me to-“

“You don’t have to depend on the Beaumonts any longer, Riley, I have something for you.” He produced a sheaf of papers and handed them to her.

“What’s this?”

“This is the paperwork transferring the deed to Valtoria to you and conferring the rank and title of duchess!” He smiled at her proudly.

“I…don’t understand. What’s a Valtoria?”

“It’s a duchy, my love,” he chuckled, “You’ll be a member of the Cordonian aristocracy in your own right, with your own lands, titles, and bank accounts. It lets you stay here as it grants automatic citizenship, gives you a governmental position, a means of supporting yourself, and provides a very real reason for us to spend time together, as you’ll need to be brought up to speed on how to run it.”

Her eyes flicked uncertainly back and forth from him to the papers in her hands, “You’ve…. thought of everything…”

Everything except how to have avoided breaking her heart, ripping their planned future right out of her hands, and taking her best friend from her in one fell swoop.

“Please say you’ll stay, Riley. Please!”

He looked so lost and forlorn, so full of longing and sadness that her heart constricted in her chest. She still loved him and the fact that he still loved her eased some of her pain, despite the convoluted situation they found themselves in.

In that moment, she wasn’t thinking logically. All she knew was that saying yes relieved a lot of pain for both of them.

She could stay and give it a try. If it didn’t work out, she could always leave later, right?

“Earth to Riley….” Drake’s voice pulled her out of her reverie.

“Oh, sorry!”

“It’s okay, you have a lot on your mind. Where were you just now?”

“I was thinking about how everything went down between me and Hana.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I think I’d like that actually, just not right now.”

“Okay, I’m always only ever a phone call away.”

Her head jerked up, “A phone call? Are you leaving already? You just got here!”

“That was my mom on the phone, she needs me back ASAP, there’s something wrong with the herd.”

“Oh, no! I’m so sorry! What is it?”

“I’m not sure, but it’s nothing for you to worry about. Let’s focus on Hana right now.”

“Drake, I want to be here for you too!”

“I appreciate that, and I will take you up on it. Just not right now. Like I said, you’re worried about your friend. We can talk later.”

“Okay, if we find out Hana is okay-“

“When we find out Hana is okay!” He corrected her.

“But what if-“

“Hey, you know Liam is going to get her the best medical care the world has to offer, right?”

“You’re right.”

“Of course I am! Once we know she’s going to be fine, then you and I can tell each other all our secrets, okay?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

He guided the car into the hospital parking lot and into a parking spot, “Here we are.”

She reached for his hand again, “Drake, thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he grinned at her, “I still have to get you past security!”