#say what you will but they were never just a band to me

[menofprogress]

I saw someone say that Viktor constantly reaching out to Jayce and trying to get him on his side after he initially left him and after Jayce fought, rejected and shot at him makes no sense but i disagree.

Imho jayce and viktor are incredibly, INSANELY codependent, they were each others closest contact for nearly a decade, saw each other every day, single mindedly worked towards the same goal, etc. Their lives immediately take a nosedive once theyre even slightly separated from each other (viktor nearly dies, jayce kills a kid, viktor atomises sky and then nearly kills himself, jayce lands in apocalypse land and viktor starts a cult). They instinctively always act like theyre still partners, even when theyre clearly supposed to be enemies because not being together feels unnatural to them.

Jayce doesnt act consciously when reviving viktor using the hexcore and YES viktor is hurt and distressed bc he was essentially turned into rio and he feels like he needs to leave, but then what? He probably finds out about jayces disappearance a few days later and is like "oh no, oh fuck, i know I left HIM, but i didnt want this" i mean he probably thought jayce was dead.

So for a few months he builds his commune and deliberately integrates sentimental things about his and jayces partnership (his 'home' looks like the hexgates, hes still wearing the blanket, for some reason theres a forge in the commune) which, imho, shows hes mourning and missing jayce in his own way. (A special personal hc of mine is that he grew out his hair out of grief). And in the pit we have jayce sobbing and crying bc he misses both mel and viktor so much.

So jayce reappears and viktors like "heeeyyyy bestie, oh my god, i missed u come visit me!!!" And jayce is rightfully confused like "didnt YOU break up with ME?" and viktor is like "nooo, hahaha, i was crazy back then, just forget about it, pls visit me?" And is only mildly concerned by jayce killing one of his followers (and then hes also mostly concerned about jayce, not salo lol)

Then jayce arrives and shoots him and its very painful bc viktor fully didnt expect jayce to hurt him! Hes so shocked 😭

Anyways after that Viktor "attacks" (more like "does a mating dance for") jayce in the council room and AGAIN asks him to join his emo band and is AGAIN shocked and hurt when jayce genuinely fights back and rejects him. Viktor is temporarily hurt and gives singed the ok to start the process.

And then as the fully transformed herald he STILL talks about how happy he is to see jayce and doesnt really put any effort into neutralising him. Like he could have just shot him hbxhnxgkhfj

All the while we have jayce talking big talk about stopping viktor, but when it comes down to it?? He doesnt manage to take him out and still talks to him. And then he sees Viktor in the astral realm and once there is a SLIVER of hope hes immediately like "oh thank god i can stop trying to kill him, this was never going to work"

All of this isnt contradictory to me. It means that both of them actually know that they should be on opposing sides now, they start acting according to the idea that the other one is now an enemy, they make plans accordingly, but when it comes down to it theyre reluctant to actually follow through bc that would mean a life without the other and thats worse than staying enemies forever.

Viktor kept reaching out, hoping to be partners again after MULTIPLE rejections and jayce couldnt bear to kill viktor or to let him die alone. Being apart from each other is quite literally the worst thing for either of them, so the instinct to reach out to each other will always take over.

[revelboo]

Merry Christmas!Can we get something for Blaster?

Why not. I do like his Batman antenna. Just a note- I imagine the holomatter avatars look perfectly human. So perfect that they unconsciously freak real humans out. You look at them and your brain says, yep, that’s a human, while your subconscious is all animal instinct screaming that it’s not

Shoot Me In The Smile

Blaster x Reader

• Servos drumming on his console in the uncomfortable aftermath of Megstron’s broadcast, Blaster leans back and glances at Optimus. Listening to Ironhide’s belligerent disbelief that any Cybertronian would frag a human, his optics keep catching on the look their leader’s face. Knows that there’s more than a a few humans in the Ark. He’s seen them being carried about by their caretakers like exotic pets. But now he’s wondering about it. About Jazz sneaking out constantly and returning scenting like human. Of Optimus and Prowl both scenting much more strongly of the little organics than the other caretakers. And the almost pained look on Optimus’s face as Ironhide rants. They all have their secrets, he guesses. And he’s going to be late if he doesn’t go now.

• Putting your car in park, you press your forehead against the steering wheel. Count to ten to get yourself together, shut off the engine, and get out with a smile firmly in place. Pulling the awkward case out of the passenger side, you sling the strap over your shoulder and head inside. Spotting the rest of the band setting up, you throw up a hand in greeting and hear your drummer whoop at you. Making your way backstage, you start changing your clothes. Shedding yourself in favor of leather and glitter. Lining your eyes and painting your face until a stranger stares back at you. Someone who’s not timid, not terrified of crowds and overwhelmed by the noise and heat of the spotlights. The version of you that people actually like and you despise. “You should wear the wig tonight. They love it.” Turning, you smile weakly at your lead bassist, but oblige him. And it really is a stranger staring back now. All of you erased and gone.

• “Again?” Pausing at the door of his habsuite, he glances at Eject as the cassette frowns up at him in obvious disapproval. Because he has no idea how to explain the obsession. He’d found you on a local station, surfing the airwaves out of boredom. And realizing you were a local, that the bar you played out of was so close? He hadn’t been able to resist. Using his holomatter avatar to slip inside just to hear you play. Something about the dissonance in your music had called to him, wedging in his spark and his processor. Music almost frantic, pure rock and roll, but your vocals, ranging from sweet to haunting, are what had snagged him. “I won’t be out late,” he says as Eject vents and exchanges a look with Rewind, worrying about him.

• Lingering just off stage as your heart races, you study the see of faces milling about. And realize you’re looking for your guy. The one whose expression never changes, who just stares at you the whole time you sing making an uncomfortable amount of eye contact. You almost swear he doesn’t blink. That intense focus of his is unnerving. Fascinating and a little frightening. You can’t tell if he has a crush on you or if he’s deciding where to hide your body. As the lights dim, you blow out a shaky breath and move onto the stage with your band mates. Hand lifting to wave as you smile even though you’re shaking and can’t hardly breathe. This should get easier, right? Except it never does.

• Hiding in the woods outside the bar, he transforms into his alt mode so if he’s discovered while his attention is divided, all a human will see is a boombox, feeling the pull as he mass shifts down past what would be possible for a normal Cybertronian. Draining his reserves every time. Shivering slightly, he focuses on the avatar and it glitches into existence. There’s an errant thought as he walks to the bar. What do you think of his avatar? Do you like it? Generating an ID to show the human at the door, he makes his way inside, focusing to stay solid as he works his way to the front of the crowd. It wouldn’t do for someone to accidentally pass an arm through him and start screaming. And then there you are, guitar in hand, eyes closed as the lights dim and the spotlights bathe the stage in ruddy light. Hands shifting on the strings, your eyes open and unerringly find him as the music swells and you sing just for him. The crowd gone until it’s only you two.

They’re not patient at all

[thankyoudanielfest]

Thank you, Daniel! Fest – Second wave roundup post.

Here is the first wave roundup post.

With this, we'd like to wrap up Thank you, Daniel! Fest. As promised, a roundup of more incredible works made by even more incredible people!

Fics:

Google Translate What Does This Mean? by @ararararo

Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen, 1,5k words (chapter 1/2)

Google Translate couldn't possibly be lying to him but Max couldn't possibly be lying to him either. There's no way his younger teammate has been teaching him to how to say 'Impregnate Me' and 'Cum in Me' in Dutch, made him repeat it every time they were together under false pretence that they were confidence boosting sentences. It must be Google Translate that's lying to him, because his Maxy could never... right?

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The Final Part in the Unlimited Kiss Coupon Universe by @saapphicx

Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen, 1.7k words (complete)

The season is over and Daniel is home for Christmas. But he’s not alone. Max has made good on the offer Daniel gave him, and has packed himself up to the farm for the winter break. Maybe it’s time for Daniel to finally get what he’s wanted since the first day he received that coupon. Maybe it’s time for him to be brave.

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Feeling like I'm on a Hook by @naanima

Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen, 12k words (complete)

He knew he should talk this out with Blake, contact his lawyers, and make sure the rest of his team wasn't asking questions they shouldn't. But he couldn't, because the first thing you learned as a rookie on a F1 team was that you don't fucking ever talk about the free use clause with anyone that wasn't your team principal, the head of HR of your team, and the two FIA representatives - the medical specialist and the monitor who inspected both drivers after each “incident” on FIA premise. And of course the other party involved in the free use clause. Agents were viewed with disdain. (The free use clause is activated in Daniel's contract post Singapore).

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Ain’t That Kind of Movie by @annebd

Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen, 2k words (chapter 1/2)

Daniel is the two-time World Drivers' Champion, and at the FIA Awards ceremony, he meets Max, who is charming and funny and gorgeous. And an escort.

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surrender my heart by @f1thememp3

Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen, 1.9k words (chapter 1/4)

There weren’t any subs in formula 1. not for a long time, and at least not publicly. Statistically speaking there were likely quite a few somewhere along the line, but the general perception that subs were far too fragile to handle the demands of the sport kept them fully in the dark. You either fit the mold or got out of the car.

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Last by @flawlessassholes

Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen, 3.8k words (complete)

Ten years after Max's first time is Daniel's last.

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Love Blind by @mvlionheart

Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen, 3,2k words (chapter 1/12)

“What are we going to do?” Danny ventures asking, voice a thinly veiled attempt at composure. This was their moment, it was all coming together. The years of hard work, the pay-out just around the corner. He couldn’t stomach thinking about letting everything slip through their fingers. “Open auditions?” Noah replies. OR When Danny's band Enchanté loses their drummer right before a big show, they have to find a last-minute replacement. It's a good thing the bass player's sister knows a guy. It's a bad thing, for Danny at least, that the guy is a hot, young, drum prodigy who really knows how to work his sticks.

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Stranded by @mvpanda1

Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen, 5,8k words (complete)

Daniel is having the time of his life. Shining sun, clear calm waters, a yacht full of the best friends a guy could ask for, and the love of his life. Max. It’s hard to believe they are here together now. Out in the open. No longer sneaking into empty rooms or dark corners. They have been inseparable the entire trip—two becoming one in every way possible. His friends don’t care, they’re just happy Daniel finally feels comfortable enough to be himself. OR Daniel is having the time of his life until he isn't.

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Edits and creations:

enjoy the butterflies by @thebirdsareafterme

Daniel and butterflies piece by @avida-heidia-5

Cute Daniel edit by @mango-yoyo

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Please show some love to everyone who participated! All of the people above have done an incredible job. This wouldn't be possible without each and every one of you who participated and we cannot thank you enough for dedicating time to show some love towards Daniel.

Right now, we're giving you all a big, warm hug... but do keep an eye out for something perhaps coming in January ;)

with love, mods <3

[sofiasworld00]

The Wedding Bells of December

Harry Lewis x reader

Summary: Harry and reader at Ethan and Faiths wedding where one thing leads to another and the night ends with an engagement.

Warnings: mostly fluff, steamy stuff(not smut)

Word count: 3k (ish)

The frosty December air bit at your skin as you stood beside Harry Lewis, his arm wrapped around your waist, providing warmth and comfort against the chill. Ethan and Faith’s wedding was a grand affair, held at a picturesque venue decorated with fairy lights, candles, and an abundance of white and gold accents. Snow fell gently outside the massive glass windows, creating a perfect winter wonderland that felt more like a dream than reality.

Harry looked dapper in his tailored suit, the navy material hugging his broad shoulders perfectly. His usual cheeky demeanor was replaced with a calm, almost reflective energy as he held you close. You stole a glance at him, his face slightly flushed from the cold, his blue eyes shimmering with emotion as he gazed at the newlyweds exchanging vows.

The moment Ethan spoke his heartfelt promises to Faith, you felt Harry’s grip on your hand tighten. He turned to look at you, his lips quirking into a small smile, but you could see the telltale glimmer of unshed tears in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” you whispered softly, your voice almost lost in the soft hum of the ceremony.

Harry nodded, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. “Yeah,” he murmured, his voice a little rough. “Just thinking.”

You knew what he meant. The two of you had been together for years now, building a life full of love, laughter, and shared dreams. Ethan and Faith’s wedding wasn’t just a celebration of their love—it was a mirror reflecting everything you and Harry had built together and everything you had yet to experience.

The Reception

The reception was nothing short of magical. The hall was filled with laughter, music, and the clinking of champagne glasses. Harry was by your side, his hand never leaving yours as you mingled with the other Sidemen and their partners.

Vik and Tobi were the first to greet you both, their excitement infectious as they praised how stunning you looked. “Harry, mate, you’ve outdone yourself,” Tobi teased, winking at you. “She’s way too good for you.”

Harry laughed, pulling you closer. “Don’t I know it?”

As the night wore on, you danced under the soft glow of chandeliers, the sound of live music filling the air. Harry wasn’t much of a dancer—he often joked that his limbs were too long and gangly for it—but tonight, he made an exception. He held you close as the band played a slow song, his cheek resting against the top of your head.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. “I don’t say it enough, but you are.”

You tilted your head up to look at him, your heart swelling at the vulnerability in his eyes. “You’re not too bad yourself, Lewis.”

He chuckled, his laughter vibrating against your chest. “I’m serious. Watching Ethan and Faith today… it’s made me think about us. About how much I love you.”

Your throat tightened, emotions bubbling to the surface. “I love you too, Harry. So much.”

The Speeches

When it was Harry’s turn to speak, you felt a surge of pride and nerves for him. He wasn’t one to enjoy public speaking, but Ethan had asked him to be one of the best men, and Harry had accepted without hesitation.

He stood at the microphone, his hands gripping the stand as he scanned the room. When his eyes landed on you, he seemed to relax slightly.

“I’ve known Ethan for years,” Harry began, his voice steady despite the nerves evident in his posture. “We’ve been through a lot together—laughs, arguments, some questionable decisions during Sidemen videos—but through it all, he’s been like a brother to me. And seeing him with Faith… it’s clear she’s made him the happiest he’s ever been. They’re perfect for each other.”

He paused, his gaze flickering to you again. “Love isn’t always easy. It’s about finding someone who sees you for who you are—flaws and all—and chooses to stand by you anyway. And Ethan and Faith, you’ve found that in each other.”

The room erupted into applause as Harry raised his glass in a toast. When he returned to his seat, you leaned in to kiss his cheek, murmuring, “That was beautiful.”

He shrugged, but the blush on his cheeks betrayed his emotions. “Just telling the truth.”

The Drive To The Hotel

The wedding eventually wound down, and you and Harry left the venue, your fingers intertwined as you walked to the car. The snow had picked up, blanketing the world in a serene hush. The drive to the hotel was quiet, both of you lost in your thoughts. Harry’s hand rested on your thigh, his thumb tracing absentminded circles against the fabric of your dress.

“Tonight was perfect,” you said softly, breaking the silence.

Harry glanced at you, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “It was. Ethan and Faith deserve it.”

You hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “When you were up there, giving your speech… it felt like you were talking about us.”

He didn’t respond immediately, his grip on your thigh tightening slightly. “That’s because I was,” he admitted quietly. “I’ve been thinking about us a lot lately. About what’s next.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean?”

He pulled into the hotel parking lot, turning off the engine before facing you fully. The dim light from the car’s interior illuminated his face, highlighting the sincerity in his expression.

“I mean… I don’t want to wait anymore,” he said, his voice firm. “I want this with you. The vows, the celebration, the forever. I’ve wanted it for a long time, but tonight just made it crystal clear.”

Tears filled your eyes as you reached for him, cupping his face in your hands. “Harry…”

He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly before he opened them again, filled with determination. “Marry me. Not someday—soon. I don’t need anything fancy. I just need you.”

The Hotel Room

When you finally made it to the hotel room, the emotions of the day had reached their peak. The moment the door clicked shut, Harry turned to you, his hands sliding around your waist as he pulled you into a deep, passionate kiss. His lips were soft but demanding, his touch setting your skin alight.

“I mean it,” he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t want to wait anymore.”

Your hands tangled in his hair as you kissed him back, pouring every ounce of love and desire into the moment. “I don’t want to wait either.”

His hands roamed your body, tracing the curves of your dress before finding the zipper at the back. He pulled it down slowly, his lips never leaving yours as the material pooled at your feet.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his blue eyes dark with desire as they raked over your exposed skin.

You felt a shiver run down your spine, a mix of the cool air and the heat of his gaze. You reached for him, unbuttoning his shirt with trembling fingers, revealing the toned muscles beneath. When his shirt joined your dress on the floor, he lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to the bed.

The passion between you was overwhelming, each touch and kiss a reminder of the depth of your love for each other. He took his time, worshipping every inch of your body as if to prove just how serious he was about the promises he’d made in the car.

“I love you,” he murmured over and over, his words a soothing balm to your soul.

As the night wore on, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in each other’s arms. The love you shared wasn’t just a fleeting emotion—it was a promise, a future, and a forever.

The Morning After

When you woke the next morning, the sunlight streaming through the curtains, you found Harry watching you, his head propped up on one hand.

“Good morning, fiancée,” he said, his grin boyish and full of mischief.

You laughed, your heart swelling at the word. “Good morning, fiancé.”

He reached over, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Last night was perfect. You’re perfect.”

You leaned into his touch, your smile soft. “I can’t wait to marry you.”

“Neither can I,” he said, his voice serious. “Let’s not wait long. Let’s start forever as soon as we can.”

And as you lay there, wrapped in his arms, you knew that your forever had already begun.

A/N: I’m so happy with how this turned out! Pls remember to repost and spread!

[eternalguk]

Pink Hearts & Black Clouds | jjk. — teaser

Love me at my lowest, I’ll love you when you’re barely holding on

↠ Pairing : Jungkook x Reader

↠ Summary : Jeon Jungkook is the epitome of a brooding grunge. Moody, distant, and always a little too sarcastic. A grumpy, tattooed college student who barely tolerates anyone… except you. Somehow, the girl who’s a whirlwind of pink hearts and strawberry lipgloss is the one who keeps dear Jungkook on his toes.

But you must admit… behind that gruff exterior, there’s a side of him only you get to see—gentle, caring, and ready to spoil you in his own way. Everyone else may see him as the tough guy with a permanent scowl, but you know better. Jungkook’s heart? It’s all yours.

↠ Genre : established relationship au, college au, grunge!bf x bimbo!gf, angst, fluff & smut

↠ Word count : tbc.

↠ Warnings : each drabble will outline specific warnings (the teaser has slightly suggestive content at the end)

↠ A/n : Hi there ; here is the official teaser for PHBC 🫶🏻! A small snippet to provide you a glimpse of our strikingly different, but beautiful couple. I hope you can follow this series with me 🤍 I will be trying my best to actively update, so you don’t have to wait too long between each drabble 🦢.

↠ Song : ‘Closer’ by Jungkook / ‘Good for you’ by Selena G

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

It was hard to miss the two of you, even in a crowd.

First? Let’s talk about Jungkook first.

Jeon Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook with his tattooed arms and eternal scowl, which is carved so intricately into his beautiful face, looking as though he belongs on a concert poster for an underground band.

And next? Next, there was you.

Y/L/N Y/N. Y/L/N Y/N who is a vision in baby pink. With your sparkling, innocent eyes and glossy lips, you are a walking daydream who is entirely too bright for the man standing beside you.

Together? Together, you don’t just turn heads. You stop traffic.

No one can deny that you are a good-looking couple, even if most people couldn’t figure out how it all began let alone how it works!

A moody grunge college student and his bubbly, glittering girlfriend? It was the kind of contrast that had people whispering behind their hands. The kind of contrast that got you second glances and furrowed brows wherever you went.

“Are you done staring at me like that?” Jungkook grumbles, his tone flat as he catches your gaze lingering on him for what felt like the umpteenth time that evening.

The two of you were studying in the library. Well… Jungkook was trying to. You? You had busied yourself with organising your makeup bag following the TikTok you had just watched.

You don’t even blink. “Nope,” you say brightly, popping the “p” far too much for Jungkook’s liking.

“You’re too pretty not to look at, Koo,” you croon. “It’s a problem, honestly. What are the rest of us supposed to do when you look like that?”

You sigh, dreamily gazing at the man before you.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, the sharp piercings along his brow catching the light, but there was no hiding the faint pink creeping up his neck. “You’re irritating.”

“You love it,” you shoot back, shifting your chair inevitably closer until you were arm-to-arm with him.

Jungkook gulps, his dark gaze dropping to your lips, like he couldn’t help himself. He stands up, gathering his things as well as yours so you could head home.

There was no way he was going to get a single thing revised here, and you would eventually end up distracting other students around you as you always do. The fact that you still weren’t banned from the library simply shocked Jungkook.

Furrowing your brows, you follow Jungkook’s moves, lips forming a pout as you notice him packing away.

You weren’t making it easy for Jungkook. You never did.

“I don’t want to go home,” you begin, tilting your head as you try to figure out why Jungkook was packing everything away. Organising your pastel highlighters was next on your list of things to do.

“Didn’t ask,” Jungkook mutters.

Leaning up on the tips of your toes with a slow, mischievous grin. “Oh! Are we going home to do… you know what?”

Jungkook chuckles at your use of language. The day you would openly say sex in public? Well on that day, Jungkook… he had already decided that he would buy you all your makeup wish list.

He was currently torn between letting you win or pushing you away just to make a point, but in the end, you always won.

The small, almost shy grin tugging at the corner of your boyfriend’s lips told you everything you needed to know.

“Come here,” he mutters, giving in as his hand slipped behind your neck, his thumb brushing against your jaw.

Jungkook kisses you softly at first, like he wasn’t sure he should be doing it here in the middle of the crowd.

However, you are quick in helping him forget his surroundings the second you make a sweet little sound against his lips.

When Jungkook pulls back, just slightly, your lips are slightly less glossy and swollen. your lashes flutter as you blinks up at him, eyes glistening with need. He exhales sharply, like you’d knocked the air out of his lungs.

“You’re impossible,” he says in a low tone, shaking his head and laughing, knowing you’re turned on. “Can never go even an hour without wanting to be fucked.”

“And you’re smitten,” you tease, not even acknowledging Jungkook’s comment because there simply was no denying.

Instead, you press a kiss to his cheek, just to push his buttons further.

Jungkook’s scoff is immediate. He pulls back and starts slowly heading towards the exit.

Your brows knit into a tangle of furrows again and the infamous pout returns. Where was Jungkook going… without holding your hand?

“Come on then, doll,” Jungkook begins, pausing to turn around and beckon you towards him. “Standing there isn’t going to make you cum.”

You giggle, skipping towards your boyfriend as your mind begins to drift towards filth.

Oh, how you can’t wait to tie your delicate, baby pink bow around Jungkook’s bicep, his strong arm coiling possessively around your neck as you ride him, completely at his mercy.

I can’t wait to share more of this series with you <3 please comment below / send an ask if you’d like to be on the taglist !

[munsonsmixtapes]

Sharing is Caring

steddie x reader

summary: Steve and Eddie decide to have an open relationship and despite that, Eddie decides to keep the girl he met in a chat room a secret. Little does he know that Steve is keeping a secret of his own.

cw: brief mention of struggle with sexuality

ladybaggins has requested to chat!

ladybaggins: hi

eddiethebanished69: hi

eddiethebanished69: fan of Bilbo hm?

ladybaggins: of course

ladybaggins: that’s my husband

eddiethebanished69: so that’s my competition?

ladybaggins: we’re not exclusive. Why? Are you flirting with me, Eddie the banished?

eddiethebanished69: what if I am?

ladybaggins: then I would be prompted to ask if that’s you in your pfp

eddiethebanished69: it is

ladybaggins: fuck-

eddiethebanished69: can’t tell if that’s a compliment or insult

ladybaggins: definitely a compliment

eddiethebanished69: good

ladybaggins: are you in a band or something? I see you’re playing a guitar in your pfp

eddiethebanished69: yep

eddiethebanished69: but I won’t share my band name to protect my anonymity if you don’t mind

ladybaggins: of course I don’t mind

ladybaggins: what genre are you categorized as?

eddiethebanished69: heavy metal

ladybaggins: that’s hot

ladybaggins: I mean-that’s hot

ladybaggins: that’s really cool

eddiethebanished69: have a thing for metal bands, hm?

ladybaggins: maybe-

eddiethebanished69: you are already becoming very interesting, Lady Baggins

eddiethebanished69: well, I should go make dinner. Same time tomorrow?

ladybaggins: I wouldn't miss it! Until then, Eddie the banished.

Eddie leans back in his chair at his desk, smiling to himself as Steve enters the office. He doesn't know why, but he's quick to close the tab where he was talking to you. He has nothing to hide, especially since he and Steve recently decided that they wanted to have an open relationship. So he's not cheating on Steve and he definitely doesn't feel ashamed. He just wants to keep this to himself because he shares everything with his boyfriend. This is something he's going to keep between himself and his web browser. And you, of course.

"Hey, honey," Steve says as he drops a kiss to the top of Eddie's head. giving his shoulders a squeeze as he does so. Eddie lets out a hum as this is the one thing that he loves the most that Steve does. It just a sweet gesture that showed Eddie just how much Steve loves him.

"Hey," Eddie turns in his chair, puckering his lips, asking for a kiss and Steve is quick to oblige, resting his hands on the arm rests on the chair while leaning down and capturing Eddie's lips between his two. Once he pulls away, Eddie pats his lap and Steve is quick to sit as Eddie turns to face the desk again, opening up the city building game that Steve loves to watch him play.

This is their favorite activity of the day. No matter how many times they do it, they never get bored. Steve loves the way Eddie's hands rest on his thighs and Eddie loves how Steve will lean his head back on his shoulder. It's the perfect setup.

Afterwards, the two of them head to the kitchen where the Chinese food that Steve had picked up on his way home from work. The table is already set and they sit in their respective chairs, eating is comfortable silence.

Steve is rubbing his foot up and down Eddie’s leg and Eddie takes Steve’s free hand, bringing to his lips for a gentle kiss. Eddie doesn’t know how he got so lucky as to have someone as amazing as Steve, but he’s not going to question it. And he certainly doesn’t take it for granted either. He’s always quick to tell Steve just how much he loves him and how grateful he is to have the man in his life.

It goes both ways. Steve is equally grateful for the man sitting across from him, wondering why he had been so rude to him in high school when he’s nothing but a sweetheart. He sometimes still can’t believe that Eddie gave him a second chance when their paths crossed again when they realized that they were going to the same university.

Eddie always knew he liked men, very secure in his sexuality and Steve thinks that’s one of the many reasons why he disliked Eddie. Because he was always unapologetically himself, always seen going on dates with different men and women around town and Steve envied that.

Steve also was always attracted to men even though he would try to deny it. He just liked that guy’s pants and wanted to know where he got them or wanted to know that other guy’s workout routine so he could get jacked like him.

Steve didn’t fully come to terms with the fact that he was bisexual until his senior year of high school. Everyone was playing spin the bottle and his landed on Evan Thompson from his English class. He always thought the guy was cute and would have even gone as far to say that he had a crush on him. But kissing him was a whole other thing.

Steve went for it anyway since rules were rules and even though it was just a quick peck, up until he kissed Eddie for the first time, that was the best kiss he had ever had.

That night, he went home and couldn’t get Evan or the kiss out of his head, wondering what was wrong with him and why he was thinking about it so much. He didn’t think about guys in that way. He was just confused because he hadn’t kissed anyone in a while.

But after a long conversation with Robin, they both came to the same conclusion. That Steve was bi and that there was nothing wrong with that. And accepting it was like a giant weight had been lifted from his chest. It was like he could finally breathe for the first time.

He tried to date men when he moved out of Hawkins and went to college, but it never seemed to go quite right. He was ready, he knew it, but he just couldn’t quite get comfortable enough to be himself.

That is, until he officially met Eddie towards the end of their freshman year. It was a lame party and the two of them shared a joint out on the back porch of the house.

Eddie was the first person Steve officially came out to other than Robin and besides her, he was the only other person who really saw him. To him, he wasn’t Steve “the hair” Harrington, he was just Steve.

Chemistry built pretty quickly and before either of them could stop it, the two of them were making out, the joint long gone, their hands now tangled in each other’s hair.

And afterwards, Eddie walked Steve back to his apartment and the rest is history. They’ve been together ever since.

After dinner and plenty of kisses, Eddie retires back to his office, wondering if you had messaged him again while he was eating, but there’s no new messages nor a green dot next to your profile pic.

He can’t stop thinking about you and he doesn’t know why. He hasn’t really been attracted to anyone else since he got with Steve, but you’re different and he can’t quite put his finger on it.

He thinks it’s because he’s still got it. He’s able to flirt without being too awkward and you seemed to be into it. He wonders if you’ll message him tomorrow and flirt with him some more.

[dsireland86]

The 7th Day Of Christmas:

Jingle Bell Rock (Favorite Christmas Song)

This idea came to me by the way of one of my most favorite people, @foliosgirl. Thanks, Tumblr bestie 🥰🥰

Tag list:

@philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @thisbicc @lacy1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12 @sister-sebastian @nyxthedestroyerofworlds-deactiv @missduffsblog @bngurngheart  @somebodyllelse @xxkittenkissesxx @fadingangelwisp @dizzylmwahh @Youlookforultraviolet

Noah:

The year had been rough. With so many highs, there had certainly been enough lows to make the highs seem unworthy of celebrating. Noah was done and couldn't wait for it to be over.

It started with him getting sick near the end of the 2023 tour, forcing the band to cancel shows. Noah felt horrible about it, especially when he got on your social media accounts to read what people were saying about it all. He just wanted to crawl into a hole and hide, but you wouldn't let him. You encouraged him, told him everything would work out and be okay, and that he just had to be patient.

The new year brought a European tour which was just what the band needed. You couldn't go so you stayed behind, waiting and worrying constantly. The time apart wasn't the best thing for Noah. He was calling you almost daily telling you how sorry he was for not making more time for the two of you, and that he felt like he might have bitten off more than he could chew with some of the tour dates. It broke your heart hearing the sadness in his voice. But despite how you felt, you had faith in Noah that he'd manage through it and encouraged him to go on as best as he could. And he did.

Once the band was back home, canceled shows got rescheduled and things seemed to be looking up, but all of that quickly fell through when some of the shows had equipment malfunctioning and fights breaking out in the crowds quite a few times. It triggered a deep emotion in Noah that brought on some small bouts of depression. You were there for him, trying your best to help him out of the darkness he found himself in, behind the scenes, quietly loving him and supporting him, yet worried for him beyond belief, that it all might come crashing down.

Waiting for the inevitable was like walking on pins and needles, and when it happened over the summer, Noah broke, forcing the band to cancel all remaining U.K dates. People were furious, but not like Noah was at himself at feeling like he let the fans down again. For days, he stayed closed off to everyone making you so worried that this was the beginning of the end. But, slowly he came out of it, coming back to the reality of you and the world around him, and you were there, loving him just like before. Noah apologized over and over, but you and the guys reassured him that there was nothing to apologize for. You held his hand through it all, never leaving him in the dark, alone.

On Christmas Eve, you and Noah sat together in the quietness, holding hands, and talking about the year and everything that had happened. That's when he played you this song, saying it was his favorite Christmas song of the year because it reminded him of you. You laughed at first because it didn't sound like the traditional Christmas song, but as you listened to the words, your eyes filled up with tears. "Thank you, Princess, for sticking this year out with me and getting me through it. I don't think I could have without you." You fell into Noah's arms, kissing on him until it ended up with the two of you wrapped up in bed sheets by the glow of the Christmas lights. By morning, you woke up with your Christmas gift on your finger, a beautiful little engagement ring he had managed to slip on your finger while you slept.

Folio:

The moment Folio saw you, it was literally love at first sight. He was hooked to you like a bad habit, unable to leave you for one second. The first few months were nothing but a crush for you. Folio was always doing the silliest little things to get your attention and dropping the corniest pick-up lines to make you laugh and get your attention, pretty soon, all of it worked. You fell for him and everything about him.

The year went by in a whirlwind and pretty soon it was the Christmas season. Lights and music were everywhere, decorations and gift ideas flooding the air, but no matter what was happening around you, Folio and you were only about each other. When you should have been hanging with the guys, the two of you were tangled up in each other, missing out on the holiday spirit. It's not that you wanted to miss out, but you two just couldn't stop the wanting and needing of the other person. And whenever there was mistletoe, heaven help you. That man was one hundred percent all over you. But you loved it. It made you have all the feels of being in love during the winter holidays.

Being in love with Folio was like being a kid again. The snowball and snow fights the two of you had during the holiday break when you went home to visit his family was the best thing ever. Nick's family loved you if only for the fact that you put up with all of his playful goofiness, his dad especially loved you because of how sweet and loving you were toward his son, telling you that you were everything he hoped Nick would ever find in a girl. It warmed your heart at how accepting his family was of you.

The nights when all the family were hanging out together, Folio had you all to himself, in his bedroom upstairs. The two of you talked about childhood Christmases and what you loved most, asking what the best Christmas song was. You chose "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas", but Nick had you blushing and cheesing like a teenager the moment he played you "Mistletoe". "It's not my favorite, but it reminds me of you and me." He pulled into him for a long kiss, gripping the sides of your face gently, placing his forehead against yours when he pulled back. "I love you and the way you make me feel, Sweetheart. You complete me, and all I want to do is be with you from now until forever." Wiping the tears away, you curled up into Folio, wrapping yourself around him. He owned you already, mind, body, and soul. 

Jolly:

The Christmas Song (Merry Christmas, To You)'

"The traditional American Christmas song," so Jolly said. Over and over, you heard it once it came time to properly play Christmas music. As much as you hated it at first, your holiday season became dependent on hearing it at least once a day.

Time over the holidays was just the thing you and Jolly needed. The whole year had been a stressful one, for sure. Yes, it had some really good moments, but there were also a lot of bumps that put a strain on your relationship.

It was hard working through the first overseas tour. The time difference, the lack of talking, the stories that you heard, or rather read. You knew absolutely none of them were true, but that didn't stop your mind from wandering. When the boys finally came home, though, you knew, the moment you found yourself in Jolly's arms, that everything between you would be fine.

The spring brought long studio time and festival dates that were excruciatingly hot. You watched in forced silence as the guys drug themselves through one festival after another, managing through exhaustion, food poisoning, and mental drainage and when Noah finally crashed, it wasn't a surprise, but it worried all of you sick, nonetheless. But you came together as a family, helping him through it, and in the end, Noah bounced back.

Now that it was the holiday season, time with Jolly was the most important thing to you as it was to him. You took the time to show him many American traditions you grew up with like Christmas light sightseeing, hot chocolate bars, Christmas movie marathons, and many other little things.

Christmas shopping was one of Jolly's favorite things. He loved going to the actual stores versus shopping online, and gladly you followed him around. Watching him pick out small, little things for this family back home in Sweden was the best part of it all. Jolly had certainly become the Merry to you Christmas, and you were so happy to have him as yours.

Late on Christmas Eve, you laid in Jolly's arms listening to Nat King Cole, sipping on your favorite wine. The glow of the Christmas lights reflecting off the fire burning in the fireplace was magical and brought you all the best holiday feelings. You let your mind drift away, wondering what your Christmases would look like once you had a family of your own. "As perfect as this night is, do you ever wonder what will be like once we have a family of our own?" You bolted up, looking back at Jolly. "Our own?" Jolly smiled at you, tucking some of your hair behind your ear. "You're the only girl I want, Älskling, nobody else." You smiled at him, caressing his face and feeling the day's old stubble over his cheek. "I love you, Jolly," you said, kissing him softly. "I love you, too, Älskling. Merry Christmas."

Nicholas:

"Hanson! Really, Nick?" Your laughter lifted Nick's spirits unlike anything else this year. He spun you around as the two of you danced in your living room by the glow of all the lights that the two of you hung a few days ago to Nick's favorite Christmas song. "Yes! It's the best version." "Not Stevie?" Nicholas dipped you, supporting you back and pecking your lips. "Stevie is great, but Hanson is better." He winked at you before placing you back onto your feet.

Nick was happy to be home with you alone, with no plans, no work, no schedule. The snow storm hitting Virginia kept you guys from traveling home to see his family, so you decided to make the best of the holidays by decking out your apartment with all things Christmas, especially mistletoe. Kiss after kiss, Nick hung it up in the stupidest just to have the excuse to kiss you, which you didn't mind one bit. You counteracted by leaving small notes around the apartment for him to find, some of them cute, some of them naughty. It made the whole holiday season a lot of fun.

After the crazy yeah the band had, slowing down and taking time to soak in and appreciate everything that had happened to him was really important. Right after moving in with you, the band left for Europe, followed by festivals and Brazil. He thought for sure all the time spent apart would cause you to second guess your decision of letting him move in with you. But it didn't, and when he got home and things began to slow down, the two of you spent all the time together that you could, adjusting to the decision you made at the beginning of the year, and so far, you were loving it. Getting to wake up to his sweet face every morning was a joy you didn't know you needed, and you grew used to it. It completed you, having Nick home twenty-four seven.

Christmas shopping with him was the best, with every outing ending with coffee from Starbucks. Eventually, you lost track of the amount of times you visited once the cups stacked up to eight each. Nick wasn't one for buying big gifts for his friends and family. He liked the simple, personal things. So it was no surprise to you on Christmas day, that all of your gifts from him were anime characters and Harry Potter stuff, except for one. The last thing you opened was a small silver necklace with a heart that read, "I love you."

Matt:

Matt was not one for the holiday spirit. Christmas was his least favorite holiday, but he knew how much you loved it, so he tried his best to love it just for you. Right after Thanksgiving, you went out together and got a small tree, bringing it back to his place and decorating it with ornaments that you brought over. It was simple but pretty, just the way Matt liked it.

The craziness of the season was the thing that irritated Matt the most. He hated the crowds, and the traffic, and the absolute madness of it all, but watching your face light up every time you passed Christmas decorations and houses that were light up like light bulbs made his heart so happy that he'd give anything to see that look on your face every day. You appreciated Matt's effort despite his heart being two sizes too small for the Christmas spirit. After your quick visits with the guys and his parents, you promised him a cozy little Christmas for just the two of you.

Matt asked you what you wanted, but your answer to him was always the same. "I don't need anything. I have you and that's enough." Your words made Matt love you more, driving him towards the goal of finding you the perfect Christmas gift.

The morning you stepped out into the cold, flurries were all around you. The wind wasn't horrible, but it was bad enough to make you duck and run to the truck. Once inside, Matt was chuckling, earning him a stern look from you. "I thought you loved everything about the Christmas season!" "I do, just not the cold," you whined, rubbing your hands together while cursing yourself for not grabbing your gloves. Matt took them in between his and brought them to his mouth, warming you with his breath. The feeling soothed you immensely, and the look in Matt's eyes made you weak. "Better," he grinned, knowing he was having an effect on you. "Better," you smiled shyly. "Come here," he motioned with his finger, laying his lips on yours. Your quiet moan had him smiling against your lips.

Christmas was here, finally, and you and Matt had managed to pull off the exact one you wanted; warm, cozy, and alone. With all the gifts opened (despite your protests of why he shouldn't have), Matt pulled out one more secret gift from behind his back; a small black box. "It's what you think it is, baby," he gloated. "I want us to get married. That's all I want for Christmas." Your face lit up, as you opened the box. It was a small diamond attached to a medium silver band; simple, very much Matt's style. But it's what was inscribed on the inside that made you start crying: "Our love is something priceless." 

[nausicaamusiclover20]

Merry Christmas everyone my sweeties❤

Christmas Paws

The house was warm and cozy, the smell of pine and cinnamon filling the air. The Christmas tree twinkled with lights in the corner, casting a soft glow across the room. Metallica’s house was quiet for once, a rare moment of peace amidst the chaos of their touring schedule. The living room was packed with Christmas cheer: snacks on the table, a few scattered presents, and, of course, the band lounging around, ready for the holiday gift exchange.

James was sitting on the couch, trying his best to look casual, but I could see the glimmer of excitement in his eyes as he eyed the pile of presents. I knew he was curious about the gift I had gotten him. I had kept it a secret for weeks, and I was almost bursting with anticipation.

The guys were all in their usual joking, playful mood. Kirk was first up, tearing into a gift from Cliff.

“Alright, let’s see what we got!” he said with his usual enthusiasm. Inside was a vinyl record of a classic rock album. Kirk grinned, holding it up. “Cliff, you know me too well. Classic rock never gets old.”

Cliff rolled his eyes. “I swear, you get the same gift every year,” he teased, leaning back on the couch. “You’re impossible to shop for.”

Kirk laughed. “You can’t go wrong with the classics,” he shot back.

Lars chimed in with a grin. “Next year, I’ll just get you a guitar pick. It’s the only thing you ever need.”

They all laughed as James, sitting next to me, leaned forward, clearly eager for his turn. His excitement was contagious, and I had to bite my lip to stop from laughing.

Cliff tossed him a gift, smirking. “Alright, Hetfield, it’s your turn. Let’s see what you got.”

James ripped into it, revealing a custom guitar pick holder, engraved with his initials. “Nice!” James said, holding it up. “Just what I needed. Thanks, man.”

The teasing continued with everyone cracking jokes, but I could feel the moment coming closer. I stood up, holding the gift I had for James. It was time. I smiled at him, my heart racing.

“I’ll be right back with yours,” I said softly.

James raised an eyebrow, curious. “Okay, babe. I’m looking forward to it.”

I made my way to the other room, where the dog was waiting. It was the moment I had been waiting for, and I felt a mixture of nerves and excitement. The dog was medium-sized, scruffy and cute, with a thick coat of fur in shades of brown and white. He looked up at me with his big, trusting eyes, wagging his tail.

“You’re gonna make his Christmas,” I whispered to the dog, gently petting his head. “You ready?”

The dog wagged his tail again, as if he understood. I walked back into the living room, the dog following behind me. The guys were talking and laughing, but when they saw me walk in with the dog, everything stopped. They froze, all eyes on the little creature at my side.

James’s jaw dropped. “Wait… is that…?”

I could barely contain my grin. “I got you a dog, James. I remember how much you’ve wanted one.”

His face lit up instantly, and I could see the surprise and joy spreading across his features. “Are you serious?!” he asked, his voice full of disbelief. He dropped to his knees immediately, extending a hand toward the dog.

The dog ran right over to him, tail wagging excitedly, and James laughed as he rubbed its head. “Oh my God, Y/N, this is perfect,” he said, his eyes wide with happiness. “This is the best surprise ever.”

The guys were still recovering from the shock. Cliff, being Cliff, broke the silence first. “Guess we’re not the only ones stealing James’s attention now, huh?”

Lars smirked, “Yeah, just don’t let the dog start playing bass, or we’ll have to put him in the band.”

Kirk laughed, “We’ve got another member now, huh? Hope he can keep up with the riffs.”

James didn’t even respond, too busy giving the dog all the attention. “This is seriously the best thing ever,” he muttered, still petting the dog. “I don’t care what any of you say. This is my new best friend.”

I watched him with a smile, my heart full. The happiness on his face was everything I had hoped for. The guys continued to tease him, but I could tell they were just as happy as I was. This Christmas was shaping up to be one of the best.

I couldn’t resist walking over to him, sitting beside him on the couch. The dog, of course, hopped up with us, making himself comfortable on the floor. James looked at me, still grinning from ear to ear.

“Thank you, babe,” he said, his voice soft with affection. “This is honestly the best gift anyone could’ve given me.”

I smiled, my heart fluttering as I leaned down to kiss him. Just as our lips met, the dog—sensing the moment, or maybe just wanting attention—jumped up, his tail wagging furiously, and promptly started licking James’s face.

James pulled away, laughing, wiping the slobber off his cheek. “I guess he wants in on the action!” he said, his voice full of amusement.

I burst out laughing. “Guess it’s a good thing we’re not the only ones who love you, huh?”

The dog, tail wagging faster than ever, turned to me and gave me a big wet kiss on the cheek, too. I laughed even harder, wiping my face. “Well, now we’ve got the whole family in love,” I said.

James just grinned, reaching down to pet the dog, who was now rolling around happily on the floor. “I’m keeping him,” he said, still laughing. “No one’s taking him away from me.”

The rest of the evening was filled with laughter, teasing, and dog play. The guys kept poking fun at James, and he kept trying to get the dog to stop licking him. It was the kind of holiday I had always dreamed of—a perfect mix of love, humor, and friendship.

The dog, of course, was the star of the show, but I couldn’t have been happier to see James so genuinely happy. It was the best Christmas ever, surrounded by my favorite people and a dog who, I had a feeling, would be just as much of a character in our lives as any of us.

[shyamanuensis]

Boy at the Rock Show - 3

“Just text him that you’re down to fuck…”

Your eyes both widen and then narrow at Poppy’s bluntness with a hint of both confusion and disgust in them as you deleted, again – for the 43rd time the text message you were going to send Sebastian. Not that you were counting. It was three days after he’d given you his number and you hadn’t wanted to see too keen or straight forward with your interest in him.

Flicking your phone screen shut, you tossed it onto the middle of your bed and sighed, falling back against the mattress lazily. Texts with boys had never really been your strong point – hell texts in general you’d often struggled with. Rubbing your hands over your eyes and letting out a frustrated groan, it was the swishing sound of a text being sent that pulled you out of your temporary state of frustration and straight into one of panic. Sitting up, you noticed Poppy smirking down at your phone with a sheer expression of chaos plastered to her face.

“What did you do?” “Your dirty work for you. Relax, I know how hard it is for you to text guys and make the first move so I sent one to Sebastian for you.” “And what did it say” “DTF? … duh!”

The bed could have turned into a savage beast and swallowed you whole and you’d be happy right now for that to be the ending of your existence. Mind racing at a hundred million miles an hour, your thoughts ranged from ‘why would she send that?’ to ‘ugh, he’s going to think I’m only after one thing’ as the phone buzzed in Poppy’s hands your familiar three beep text notification that you weren’t expecting to hear at all, let alone so quickly. Poppy glanced over with a sly smirk as she flicked the screen back up to read the reply she just knew would be from him.

“He says – sure.” “WHAT?”

It wasn’t a few seconds later that the phone began to ring. Reaching out for it, you fell onto the bed; losing your stability which gave Poppy the perfect excuse to answer it with an undeniable smirk of mischief growing bigger and bigger across her lips.

“Hello?” “Mhmm….” “No she’s here – she’s sitting right in front of me.” “Free tonight? Yeah I think so.” “Uh-huh.” “Nine at Crowded Spaces – got it.” “No, no – we’ll see you there.”

What the hell had Poppy just agreed to?

“Would you let me answer my own phone next time?” the groan which sounded from you showed a clear frustration. “What, and have you act like a stuttering mess? Please – I’m your wing girl – just trust me.” “Ughh…” “Tsk, tsk… girl, you mean more like aaaaahhhhh!”, Poppy teases with a high pitched moan and giggle. “Your prince charming has invited us to band practice tonight at 9. Some place called Crowded Spaces just of Upper Hogsmeade. Room 5.”

It's a little after a quarter past 9 when the two of you arrive at the practice venue, shuffling down the corridor stepping over boxes and cases of musical equipment which have been left laying around. Room 5 is a testament to the venue’s name – crowded with girls piled in against the walls and on the floor listening intently to the band playing, or more so just messing about. Slipping in to a quiet space; it doesn’t take long for Sebastian to notice your presence and hint for you to come over with a wink and sultry beckon gesture using his drumsticks. The look in his eyes could make an angel melt if she wasn’t aware of his true intentions. Encouraged by Poppy who’d seen the interaction, you shuffle across the room, tripping over the microphone lead that Garreth was pulling toward him and fall short of a crash symbol, straight into Sebastian’s lap.

“I knew you were keen girl, but damn...”

His voice is low and teasing as you pull yourself back up from the awkwardness of being almost between his legs and Sebastian tugs you into his lap, seemingly unphased. Just as you think he’s about to wrap his arms around you; a teasing little drum roll snaps against the snare and you giggle only for a second before a lively double stamp of the kick pedal throws you forward from his lap in a startle. Just as you’re about to hit the drum kit Sebastian tugs you back again with an arm around your waist; this time, hard enough for your back to hit his chest.

“…couldn’t help myself.”

The whisper into your ear burns across both your hair and sensitive skin, clearly only meant for you however the eyes which glare your way from the other ladies in the room make it obvious everyone else both noticed and has heard.

“A regular fucking Yoko Ono…”

The comment is uttered by Imelda who rolls her eyes as if it’s a fulltime job and adjusts the tension on one of her bass strings; the scowl across her face not leaving.

“I should move and let you practice..”, you manage to whimper only slightly, voice caught in your throat with a choke as Sebastian shakes his head in impish protest into your hair. You can feel his heartbeat against your back and wonder if he’s noticed just how fast he’s gotten yours to be.

“Stay a minute – she’ll get over it.”

Oh, what you wouldn’t give right now for a little bit of privacy and maybe a cigarette. Listening to Ominis and Garreth chat about a new lyric they’d like to throw into a song, you both hear and feel Sebastian humming into you as his wrists tap along to the beat slowly.

“Glad you decided to make it”, Sebastian whispered quietly – conversation now definitely just between the two of you. “Yeah, glad we came.” “Mhmm – maybe save that for tonight.” “What?”

Hook, line and sinker you were lured into his innuendo with a hot flush cursing both your mind and through your veins before a firm but soft voice called for Sebastian from the practice room door. A pretty petite blonde wearing one of the bands shirts as a dress, heavily tattooed and the same piercings as Sebastian half stood in the way to call for him.

“Sebby – you got a minute?”

With hands at your hips, Sebastian nearly picked you up off his lap and handed you his drumsticks.

“Yeah..”

Any chance of further contact between the two of you broken momentarily. You were sure it was nothing until Ominis smirked and Imelda commented, “Ohh, he’s in for it now – make sure she doesn’t bite too hard ‘Sebby’.”

Garreth noticing your immediate demeanour change – tried to lighten the mood.

“Hey – let’s head outside for a smoke. What do you say?”

Your eyes flickered between the two boys; one now in front of you and the one you were lusting over, quickly out of sight.

“Ugh – sure…”

A smoke right – what harm could that be?

...thank you to @eva-fitzgerald for ensuring I kept my sanity while writing this. Here's the next instalment of drummer!sebastian. ugh.. i need a moment to comprehend this. Oh @bookie-bookdust because i have to keep my promise about the lap-sit of which there's is plennntttyyy more to come.

[theplumsoldier]

this is my lil submission for @beefrobeefcal's #festive failure 2024 event! i got "Frankie Morales gets injured building a gingerbread house." sORRY he doesn't exactly get hurt while building the gingerbread house but in the preparations i guess lol pls don't hate me <3

warnings: reader and frankie are married, smol injury cause i can't make myself hurt him more (p-boy gets burned), domesticity, swearing, mutual attraction, grinding and just plain and simply lust for one another <3

Frankie got home at around 5 o'clock and stepped into the house. He was immediately greeted by the warm and heavy scent of gingerbread baking.

December 1st.

Your first christmas together.

You said you loved the holidays but it did not occur to him that you would go this hard.

A simple but festive wreath decorated the outside of the front door. It had not been there when he left in the morning. Neither had the red and green elves that were sitting on top of the coatrack, ridiculously long legs drooping over the shelf.

Frankie scoffed, tossing the keys into the bowl that had been filled with chocolates in colorful wrapping. He popped one into his mouth and turned down the hall, and sweet christ--you had decked the halls with thous of holly.

"Tis the fuckin' season, huh?" Frankie murmured.

"Baby!" you squealed cheerfully when you noticed him. "I didn't hear you come home."

You dusted your hands off on the green apron, flour handprints now adorning the textile, and went around the island to greet him with a kiss. You tasted of cardamomme.

"Yeah, wasn't sure I had the right house," he chuckled, snaking his arms around your waist to keep you close to him a tad longer. "You been busy."

You grinned. "Just a bit. I made chocolate chip, snickerdoodle, sugar, almond, cranberry and white chocolate, gingerbread and lime, and the cardamomme bombs."

Frankie huffed dramatically, putting on a disappointed grimace and tsked: "What, 'n no fruitcake?"

You snorted and shoved playfully at his chest, but he only pulled you closer. "No 'cause I dont hate myself. Also, I appreciate my husband with his teeth."

He could not help the boyish smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth, looking down dreamily at your lips. You lazed your fingers behind his neck, thumb and index tracing the rock on the golden band on your left hand. You could not help the butterflies tickling your insides nor the heat rising to your cheeks: the ring had only been there for a few months, the promise of an eternity. "That so? Well, I'd say you're in luck 'cause yours still got some."

"Oh, I'm quite lucky, I'm aware," you chuckled and pressed your lips to his. "How was your day?"

"Uneventful. Though all the deskwork might be bringing me some carpal tunnel syndrome this christmas."

"Mmm--sexy. I'll take care of you tonight then," you smirked, sneaking your hands down his back pockets, cupping his ass and he laughed. God, you loved being the reason for that sound.

Frankie pulled you back to him, hungrily tasting tasting the cardamomme on your tongue, moaning in relief as he felt the weight of the day lift off of his shoulders.

Just as the moment gained heat, the gingerbread had had enough, and the alarm on your phone went off. Frankie groaned, already feeling the stiffness rub against his pants.

"Get that for me? You're just in time to help me build the house."

"The house?" Frankie scoffed, walking to the oven while you cleared up space on the kitchen island. Frankie chuckled in understanding when he saw the perfectly cut frame to a gingerbread house through the oven door. Grabbing the ovenmits, he pulled it open and got out the tray, placing it where you had made space.

Regarding your work, the perfect edges and mouth-watering smell, you smiled in triumph. Frankie admired you rather than the confectionary and was quick to press his hard cock against your ass, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck.

You could not help but chuckle at his persistency, quietly reveling in his seemingly never-ending lust for you. You sighed heavily, relishing the moment, and turned back to face him. His eyes found yours, warm and inviting, and his hands squeezed your hips as a playful smirk smeared across his lips.

"You're not trying to seduce me, are you?" you quizzed teasingly, perching your eyebrow.

"What? They need to cool down, don't they?" Frankie defended with an incredulous expression, pulling his shoudlers as if saying 'what do I know' while pressing his hardness into you.

"So do you, hotstuff," you laughed but tucked your arms around his shoulders nonetheless, pushing your lips against his and ground forward. He moaned into your mouth, and you swallowed it down, licking into his in return.

Frankie quickly lost himself in you, the events of the day melting into the background as he fell into the wamrth you so generously offered. One hand held you by the back of your neck, keeping you close as if afraid you might slip from his grasp while the other went to the island--where he had just placed the hot tray with the gingerbread house.

In a matter of seconds, Frankie bit your lip, hard, his eyes squeezed painfully shut and gasping, then hissing, then yelling "fuck" while clutching his hand.

"Frankie! What--" you stuttered, puzzled in a panic, lurching forward to comfort him. You quickly put the pieces together and grabbed hold of his hand, assessing the damage. You cursed under your breath. "C'mere."

You hurried him to the sink, forced his hand under the tap, and switched it on. He hissed as the cold water poured onto the red mark, instinctively trying to pull it back, but you did not release your grip on his wrist. You breathed out and focused your eyes on him, feeling the tension in his arm seize after a while. "Fucking hell, Frankie."

Locking eyes, his tongue darted across his lips before chuckling at his lack of finesse, his cock still weeping in his pants despite the mark that formed in his palm. "Kissin' you always got me acting dumb," he purred, shuffling closer to you once again.

You could not help the grin escaping your lips, shaking your head while assessing his injury. "This is gonna leave a scar, baby," you deduced, sorry eyes admiring his pouting lips.

Frankie shrugged softly, his other hand coming around your hip, pulling you into his side as he nuzzled his lips against the shell of your ear. "That's okay. Heard my wife would be taking care of me tonight."

[notreallythatlost]

ARE YOU TELLING ME YOU‘VE GOT A CHRISTMAS GIFT FOR US??

YES YOU ARE AND THIS WAS ONE OF THE BEST 🤭

I‘M SHAKING LIKE A SODA CAN ABOUT TO EXPLODE

“And to think, if I were not so ravenous in my lust for you-” he grasps your wrists, pins them to the headboard with one hand and wraps his other arm around you, nose in your hair as he breathes in deeply.

HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT

“What do you mean, love? Oh, that you’re mine? Yes, absolutely, they must. If I don’t stake my claim now, all of Eregion’s eligible maidens will be vying for your hand, and I cannot possibly entertain a rival for your affections.”

spoiler: i would be one of these maidens

“How could I look at another soul the way I look at you? You are the other half of me, the reason my heart still beats. No one compares to my wife, and I would reduce anyone who argued otherwise to dust.”

truly, a man of his words

When he first saw you, Sauron never thought he would end up here, with you so willingly his. His to hold close and torment with his loving words, torture with his lingering touch, to soothe with the lies that drip so easily from his tongue.

YOU CAN BRAINWASH ME INTO LOVING YOU FOREVER

He throws his head back with a gasp, his golden hair falling over his shoulder, as the morning sun illuminates him from behind.

I ALWAYS KNEW IT — HE REALLY IS AN ANGEL

A slim golden band graces your finger, radiating your husband’s power. There is something about it, something that makes you never want to take it off.

“Of course, love, do you think I want anyone bearing witness to the mere sight of you like this? You are mine, and mine alone.”

god, can he even be hotter??

“What makes it worse, what really hurts,” your voice is unsteady, betraying the maelstrom in your heart, “is that in another life, another time, we could have been really happy.”

okay wait. why did THIS ONE HURT SO BAD

“Do not go where I cannot follow.” He murmurs into the hollow of your throat, as he grips your hair and pulls your head back. With a heavy sigh you press your lips to his forehead, and back away, his fingers trailing yours as you part.

NOT YOU WITH THAT LINE

Two Rings to bind what Evil tried to rend,

Two Rings for a King and Queen, their bond none can transcend,

Two Rings to rule them all, a power with no end

the way i BURN for this phrase

With a soft smile, knowing and terrible, he replies, “Darling, I am your heart.”

i could never leave with him saying that 😭

But that does not fill the hole in his arms where the world used to be, the space meant for you.

well, now i‘m sad AND horny how am i supposed to live with that? 🥹🥹

but amanda, you blessed us again with a true masterpiece wow

the way you write him is just

i can‘t wait to read MORE of your work 🤍🤍

And In The Darkness Bind Them (Sauron/F!Reader)

A series of vignettes (smutty and angsty) chronicling S2 Rings of Power

Sequel to Homecoming // AO3 Link incoming

Soundtrack: Beautiful Things by Benson Boone, Replay by Lady Gaga, Hands of Gold by Peter Hollens (kudos to @missjadesfics for this one)

Warnings: 18+ only!! Little bit of fluff, mostly smut and angst! Sometimes together!! P in V sex, oral (female receiving), fingering, possessiveness/toxic relationship, overstimulation, public sex/exhibitionism, dom!Sauron (I know smh, what am I doing??), carry-fucking (y'all I am cooking here, like he is basically a god so no matter how light or heavy you are, he can definitely pick you up and fuck you stupid okay), cumplay (idk how to describe it any other way), praise/condescending/degradation (it's a wild ride lmao), so much angst, very (!!) dubious consent towards the end (sorry, Sauron really leaning into his villain era now)

A/N: Reader is mad in love with our boy in this one but uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh well good luck guys idk

rather than a bunch of actual chapters, I've written a few vignettes for S2 Rings of Power (maybe I'll go back and expand on them later), starting near the start where Sauron is more Annatar, finishing at the end where he is ... very much himself. Some of the smut gets very dark, please take note of the tags!!

The morning after Annatar climbs into your bed, you are momentarily confused to see long golden hair on the pillow next to you. Then you remember that Halbrand is no more.

“Good morning, love.” He props himself up on one arm, disentangling himself from your embrace.

You cannot help but stare at him a moment; this ethereal creature in front of you cannot be yours.

“Is it really you?” You ask him, eyes sparkling and fingers trailing over his high cheekbones, his broad firm chest, his sculpted lips.

“Always, darling.” He pulls you close, kissing your forehead.

He always smells the same, like salt and iron, smoke and musk. If your souls were to no longer recognise each other, you swear you could follow your nose to find him.

“You left so suddenly, I didn’t get to say goodbye.” You murmur into his chest, fingers entwined in his golden hair.

“I’m sorry, love, circumstances arose, I had matters to take care of, but I’m here now.”

He had set his plans in motion in Mordor, and waited for Galadriel to leave Eregion. He had a feeling that she would have told no-one there who he really was, her ego bruised and pride bleeding. He only had to wait for you to let him in. And with a little pleading, you had managed to convince Celebrimbor to open his gates.

“We should talk, properly, about what happened, the last time we saw each other. At Forodwaith.” You stutter and trip over your words, nervous to bring up the subject, but it has weighed heavily on your mind.

He sighs, running his fingers up and down your arm, unhurried and unphased.

Of course you had been angry with him when you’d found out about his plans to become Morgoth’s successor, and you stood by that anger. But knowing you had left him to die, to mourn the loss of your husband for centuries, your mind screamed at you to make it right, whatever you had to say.

“Some of the things I said were…unkind-”

“Cruel.” He interjects with a smirk; you purse your lips playfully and continue.

“But so were your deeds, and I have forgiven you. Mostly. So perhaps you should do me the same courtesy,” you twirl a strand of his hair around your finger as you prop yourself up to search his gaze, “since we are… what are we again? Oh yes…”

You lean in and whisper in his ear, “Bound in flesh and soul.”

His smile this time is dangerous, threatening, promising.

“And to think, if I were not so ravenous in my lust for you-” he grasps your wrists, pins them to the headboard with one hand and wraps his other arm around you, nose in your hair as he breathes in deeply.

“-I might have spared myself this torment.” He grins into your neck as you try to catch his lips with yours. “Not that I would have it any other way.”

He bends his neck and kisses you softly, releasing you just enough to throw your arms around his neck, through his silky golden hair, pulling him closer.

The dread that had dogged you for centuries is gone. There is no such thing as chance, and he is sure that you were supposed to leave him, whatever the reason, to save you from the same evil fate he suffered. After a millennium as primordial ooze, he can’t bring himself to care, only grateful to have you in his arms again.

~

Celebrimbor had been rather taken aback when Annatar had walked into his forge with you on his arm. You had been a close friend for many years, having visited his city many times, even reinforced the defences with the ancient magic you’d learned from your lost kin. He knew you were married but had never met your lord husband; no one could have guessed he was an emissary of the Valar.

Indeed you were surprised by his cover story too, but dismissed it as your husband wanting to make the best impression as you introduced him to the world.

“Do they really need to know?” He had asked you one night, holding you close as the rest of the world slept.

“What do you mean, love? Oh, that you’re mine? Yes, absolutely, they must. If I don’t stake my claim now, all of Eregion’s eligible maidens will be vying for your hand, and I cannot possibly entertain a rival for your affections.” Your tone is light, your words spoken in jest, but he sees in you the same dark possessive streak that runs so deeply within him, and his heart can’t help but reach out for yours, dark tendrils of his power wrapping around you.

“How could I look at another soul the way I look at you? You are the other half of me, the reason my heart still beats. No one compares to my wife, and I would reduce anyone who argued otherwise to dust.”

You laugh a little, burying your face in his side, but he needs you to know just how serious he is, cupping and lifting your chin to hold your gaze.

“My love, if the sun were too bright or the moon offensive to your eyes or the stars were to outshine your radiance, I would tear it all down for you. Everything I do is for the love of you.” He means it, in his own way, and you know it, a thrill shooting through you, ending in butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

It amazes you that even after the eons you’ve loved each other, you still feel the same flutters of excitement you did when you first set eyes on him in that golden glade, millenia ago.

The trials you have endured only sweeten the moments of contentment, making you all the more grateful to hold each other.

~

He has a job to do, a forge to supervise, and rings to create. But with you in his arms and a gentle breeze cooling you both in the burgeoning warmth of spring, he could be persuaded to stay abed a little longer.

“Stay with me today.” You murmur into his chest, unwilling to let him go.

It’s as if you could hear his thoughts as he could hear yours.

He chuckles fondly, stroking your hair, considering the vaguest possibility of letting Celebrimbor work unattended for today. Surely one day couldn’t hurt?

“I have to oversee the rings, my love, their progress is precious in every sense of the word,” he says as he traces your arm, rubbing slow circles into your skin with his thumb.

You grumble with indignation, nestling closer to his side as if to keep him there with the sheer magnetism of your presence. He squeezes your arm softly before resting his chin on the top of your head.

“One day with my husband. Is that too much to ask?” Your tone is still a little petulant, but he can’t help but smile fondly at your yearning for him; after all, it is returned a hundredfold.

“Your husband is an emissary of the Valar, he has… important duties, what are you doing?”

You give him a mischievous smile, running your foot up and down his leg, hand reaching between his thighs.

“I am simply showing my husband what he is missing when he attends to these important duties, more important than keeping his wife satisfied, apparently.” Your smile grows wider as his eyes grow dark, pupils blowing wide as your hand finds its prize, his cock already half hard simply from lying next to you all morning, breathing you in.

“Are you implying I do not keep you satisfied, my lady? Oh, that simply will not do…” he growls, rolling you over and caging you beneath his iron frame.

You look up at him through your lashes, your breath hitching as arousal pools in your core and drips down your thighs.

The dark glint in his eye only intensifies as he catches the scent of you, needy for his touch, as he dips his fingers between your thighs, delicately tracing your entrance as you shiver beneath him.

His hard length juts against your hip as he greedily swallows your moans, not sated until he has wrung every note of pleasure from you. His tongue doesn’t need to fight for dominance in your mouth; he already has it, and you let him take whatever he needs from you.

His thrusts are lazy, languid, now that his plans for the day no longer involve leaving your bed, meaning to take his sweet time with you.

His index and middle fingers circle your entrance, dipping in and out, thrusting deeper each time until he is knuckle-deep inside you. He hooks his fingers in a come hither motion, watching your face soften through hooded eyes as he strokes the sweetest spot inside you. Your body shakes under his ministrations as you clench around his fingers, seemingly unwilling to let him part from you in any way, shape, or form.

He kisses the tip of your nose before drawing back to take you in, spread out underneath him, hair across the pillow, lips parted and panting, eyes glassy with pleasure. He’d never tire of this sight.

When he first saw you, Sauron never thought he would end up here, with you so willingly his. His to hold close and torment with his loving words, torture with his lingering touch, to soothe with the lies that drip so easily from his tongue.

He covets you even when he has you pressed to him skin to skin, craves you even when he can’t breathe for his tongue inside you, wants to wrap himself around you when he can feel your soul entwined with his.

You are his, and today of all days, it is overwhelming him completely.

“So good for me, opening under my touch, I know what you need, darling, I have you, just let go.” He murmurs in your ear, aching for your release as much as his own; after all, they are the same thing.

He lowers himself to press his body against yours, needing to feel every inch of you against him, cunt clenching around his fingers as you give him your pleasure. You whine and pant against his neck as he refuses to give you a moment’s respite, stroking your inner walls, grinding his palm against your clit.

You shake through your orgasm, riding out your high on his fingers which relentlessly wring out every drop of pleasure from your body, until you’re breathless, pleasantly warm and tingly all over, and totally exhausted.

“So beautiful, my darling wife, wrung out and ruined for me. Is there a single thought in that pretty mind?” He can’t help but gaze at you fondly, slicked with sweat and writhing under his fingers.

Until this moment, he has had no thought of his own pleasure. Now he feels his cock ache to be inside you, and he rolls his hips against yours, sliding his cock between your thighs and rutting against your soft skin, his precum and your wetness soaking your thighs, easing his way. With every roll of his hips his cock grinds against your clit, rubbing against your lips, making you want him inside you where he belongs.

He throws his head back with a gasp, his golden hair falling over his shoulder, as the morning sun illuminates him from behind. You wonder, how could this ethereal being be yours? Giving into his carnal desires and binding himself to a mortal form for the love of you. It is too much to ponder, and you pull him down to your lips, desperate to taste him once more.

As you pull him down, he adjusts himself, teasing you with the promise of filling you up. He chuckles in your ear when you moan at the feeling of him thrusting deep inside you, his bare skin sliding against yours, as he makes himself at home between your thighs.

He slides his hand between you, his index and middle fingers parted to frame your clit as he rubs your cunt, occasionally tracing the swollen nub that begs for his attention. The whimpers that escape your lips only urge him to tease you further, forcing you to arch into his touch, chasing any semblance of release.

Your hips ache as you thrust to meet his hand, fighting the rolling of his hips as he takes what he wants from you. His cock driving into your wet heat, his hand between you teasing and caressing your clit, his forehead against yours as he holds himself over you with his free hand.

Before long, he feels his orgasm approach, too soon, but perhaps not for you, as you beg him to let you come, and how could he deny you when you plead so sweetly?

Not that he could ever deny any request made from your lips.

He pulls you close, torso to torso, and kisses you hard, a hungry clash of lips and tongues and teeth that leaves you both breathless, greedily swallowing your moans as if they were all he needed to survive.

It feels like a revelation every time, and this occasion is no different. When you both finally come down from the pleasurable peak he'd dragged you to, you still feel like you're floating, clinging to him just to stay grounded.

As you both lie there in your cozy bed, panting and nestling close, his large frame fitting around you so completely, he smoothes back flyaway tendrils of your hair from your face and regards you with a strange look, something akin to fondness but more hungry, more desperate, more obsessive.

As your breathing slows and you return to the mortal plain, you look up at him and smile.

“So. About today. I could show you the city? You haven’t seen beyond the forge, my love, and while it is no Gondolin, it has its charms, we’ve built something beautiful here. I want you to see it.” Your eyes sparkle at the idea of showing Sauron around your city, and he cannot help but give in, even as he wants to stay here with you as long as possible.

“Then I must let our friend know he shall have to do the work of the Valar himself today.” He chuckles, brushing his nose against yours.

~

Hand in hand with your husband, you cannot help but feel at peace as you stroll through the streets of Eregion.

Musicians fill the air with song, lively market stalls line the streets, and children run and play amongst the revellers.

Your fellow Elves are still a little in awe of him, the crowds parting as you make your way through the city.

“Do you never tire of this?” You ask, a blush creeping up your neck, gesturing at the people nodding and bowing and staring as he walks past with you.

His derisive snort should tell you everything you need to know as he smirks, casting a glance at you, squeezing your hand to soothe your discomfort. You were so used to serving the people of Eregion, that this sudden change in treatment was unsettling. You appreciated thanks for your work, but anything beyond that was too much; this nigh-worship was almost unbearable.

Sauron, however, was flourishing.

“It is what we deserve, my love, to be revered. We are more than them, after all.” He has always enjoyed your attentions, your worship, but he cannot deny that this satisfies his need to rule in a way that your love alone cannot touch.

“You might be, love, but I am merely one of them. So it feels strange…” You trail off as you regard him closely, noticing just how at ease he seems to be.

“Let’s go back.” You fight the growing dread in the pit of your stomach, wishing that you had just stayed in bed with him instead.

“Are you quite alright, love?” He turns to you, searching your gaze, only now noticing your concern.

“Yes, fine, darling, I just,” you search for an excuse, any excuse, “I’m just tired. Perhaps a lie down will do the trick, if you would join me?”

A flicker of irritation crosses his face; he might as well have gone to the forge today, if you were going to cut short your trip into the city.

“I might see how Lord Celebrimbor is coming along with the rings, and let you rest.” He gives you a smile but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and your stomach flips.

“Of course, love, I’ll see you later then.”

He presses a kiss to your knuckles before disappearing into the crowd, a strange sense of trepidation filling you as he leaves.

You know him well enough, unfortunately, that you can immediately sense when he is up to something; an itching in the back of your mind and a dull ache in your heart. Nefarious or not, you have to know what it is.

~

You peer through the door, ajar enough to see your husband in his leather apron sitting at Celebrimbor’s work bench, the forge otherwise empty. He is hard at work, his back to the door, and you can't tell what is consuming all of his attention. Most of his attention.

"Love, why do you linger at the door?" He asks, raising his head and smirking, before turning and leaning with an arm over the back of the chair, beckoning you to him.

You smile hesitantly, fingers fidgeting with the sleeve of your dress as you open the door and cross the room.

He pats his thigh, taking your hand and guiding you to sit in his lap as you wrap your arms around his neck. Leaning forward to nuzzle his nose in your neck, he soaks you up, breathing in your scent and relishing the feeling of you so close. Your anxiety melts, the knots in your stomach untying themselves.

"Are you feeling better, love?" He murmurs, breaking the comfortable silence.

"Yes, much." It is not a lie; simply being with him in his natural habitat soothes your nerves.

He hums in acknowledgement, nose still at your throat, the deep vibration rippling through you.

"I hate to worry about you, darling," he remarks as he brushes his fingers through your hair.

"You'll never have to." You reply softly, drawing back to meet his gaze, so intense, so focused on taking you in.

He smiles wide, his eyes creasing just how you love, a genuine expression that has become more and more rare as his stay in Eregion has gone on. It warms your heart and makes you reach for him once more, planting your lips on his, Sauron making an undignified "hmph" in surprised response.

He could stay there forever in your arms, kissing you softly and languidly, letting himself melt into you. But the reason for his visit to the forge today sits on the bench behind you both, and he cannot forget it.

"I have a gift for you." He pulls away to reach for something on the bench behind you.

“A gift, my love? You are gift enough, I need nothing from you.” You laugh, heat flushing your cheeks as your husband takes your hand.

“How can I call myself the Lord of Gifts if I cannot even gift my wife a small trinket for her devotion?” He teases you fondly, his broad smile reaching his eyes, making them crinkle at the corners in the way that makes you want to kiss every crease and wrinkle from his face just to make them multiply a hundredfold.

“Close your eyes, love,” he tells you, still holding your hand with his other hand behind his back.

You do so with a dramatic sigh, grinning and rolling your eyes.

You feel him slip something cool and smooth onto your finger, and you feel a rush of his power through you that you have not felt in such a long time. You can feel it course through your veins, the towering inferno that is your husband’s will, his might and determination in one tiny object.

“Open.” He commands you, his excitement unmistakable.

A slim golden band graces your finger, radiating your husband’s power. There is something about it, something that makes you never want to take it off.

“Do you like it? Say something,” he laughs nervously, eager to hear your thoughts.

“It is… quite something, my love. Beautiful.” You can’t stop staring at it, the plain golden ring catching the light and throwing off an inner radiance that captivates you.

His face lights up, a wide smile brightening his handsome features as he takes your hand in his once more.

“I wanted to forge us something worthy of our bond. Something to strengthen us, to fortify what we have. To bind us together.” He looks into your eyes hopefully, yearning for the eternal life together that you’ve been denied thus far.

“It is… precious, my love. And if it works, you shall never be rid of me.” You clasp his hand in yours, resting your forehead on his, breathing him in.

“I shall forge one of my own, but yours was more pressing. They shall be a pair when I am done.”

You cannot help but smile fondly at him; thinking of you before himself.

“Thank you, love, I shall never take it off.”

You raise your hand to admire his handiwork, always in such awe of his talents, and notice him eyeing you hungrily.

"Are you quite alright, darling?" You tease him, as he leans over you, a large hand tracing your neck, pushing your hair back over your shoulder.

“I need you,” he murmurs, kissing your neck as he presses you against Celebrimbor’s workbench.

“Not here, love, let’s go home,” you try to push him off, laughing but the thought of being discovered like this in the forge, where anyone could find you, sends a shiver down your spine and your stomach unexpectedly flutters.

“No. Right here.” He runs his hands over your curves, ravenous for what only you can provide him. “Right now. I have to have you.”

He rucks up your skirts, lifting you by your hips onto the bench behind you, baring you to his lustful gaze, and to anyone else who could walk in.

“Is the door locked at least?” You ask him, your stomach still tying itself in knots.

“Of course, love, do you think I want anyone bearing witness to the mere sight of you like this? You are mine, and mine alone.” He growls, deep in his chest, as he grips your thighs, digging into the soft flesh with his fingernails, leaving red crescent marks to mark you as his.

He can’t resist the sight of your wet cunt, has to taste you, flexing his tongue to delve into your entrance as he plays with your swollen clit. He pulls you closer, throwing your legs over his shoulders, gripping your ass to keep your cunt against his face.

You can’t help but roll your hips, begging him for more, riding his face, taking full advantage of the fact that with his regained strength, Sauron doesn’t actually need to breathe.

His iron grip keeps you pinned against him as you arch your back and moan breathily for anyone who might be passing to hear.

He senses your orgasm approaching, and thrusts two long deft fingers inside your cunt, stroking your walls as he laps at your clit. Your body quakes as you give yourself to him, your peak crashing over you with no respite, Sauron drawing every ounce of pleasure he can from your aching cunt with a delicious gleam in his eye.

Finally he gives you some kind of reprieve, drawing back to admire his handiwork.

He wipes his chin with the back of his hand, smirking as he pulls himself up to meet your lips. You can taste yourself on him as he kisses you hard, teeth dragging on your bottom lip, hands kneading greedily at your thighs.

"Are you ready for me, love? Always ready for me, aren't you, always so good..." he gasps in your ear as he slams his cock inside you in one solid thrust, rolling his hips and relishing in the feeling of you, tight and hot around him.

He thinks he hears footsteps on the stairs. He slows his pace just a fraction to listen, not that you seem to notice.

The door swings open a little, but whoever it is does not immediately enter, startled by the noises coming from inside the forge.

Thankfully your back is to the door, and one glare from Sauron sends the smith at the door running back down the stairs, leaving the door ajar. He rolls his eyes and smirks against your lips, crashing his lips into yours with renewed vigour, bucking his hips and slamming his cock deep inside you.

The thought of the world having borne witness to the love you share, it sends him wild and obliterates any sane thought from his mind, the only notion in his head to ravage you senseless.

"So good for me, such a good girl," he murmurs as he takes you in your exhausted glory, your limbs shaking and your cunt quivering.

He leans down to take your nipple in his mouth, mouthing at your tender flesh before nipping with his sharp teeth, a loud moan escaping your throat.

Working his way up to your neck, he lavishes your bare skin with his tongue, sucking hard on the sensitive skin of your throat, making sure to leave a bruise no one will miss.

You whimper as he slips his cock from inside you, marvelling at the state of you, dripping with his cum.

"Always so appreciative, aren't you darling? Always so giving, so grateful to receive whatever I give you. And you've given me everything-"

He picks you up, your arms clinging to his neck as you instinctively wrap your legs around his hips.

"-but you can give me so much more."

He slams his cock inside you again, letting gravity do its work as you're stretched to your limit, moaning as he angles his hips just right so you see stars on every thrust.

"Oh, darling, is that too much?" He mocks you fondly before swallowing your whines, stealing the breath from your lungs in his need, no, greed for you.

With you balanced in his large hands, his muscles flexing with every thrust, he bounces you on his cock like you weigh nothing, as if you were merely a plaything for him to use and spoil and defile. His, and his alone.

He can't get enough of you, of the sight of you ruined and writhing at his touch, desperate for more even as he wrings another orgasm from your overstimulated cunt.

His own peak crashes into him like a wave on the shore, pulsing inside you as your walls clench around him.

"I love you, I love you, love you, love you..." he gasps over and over into your neck, shuddering against you as he leans you back against Celebrimbor’s work bench.

You can do nothing but kiss him, words beyond you, your tongue capable of nothing but kissing your husband.

"So good for me, beautiful girl, so good..." he murmurs softly into your neck as his cock twitches inside you, his seed dripping down your inner thighs.

When your legs stop shaking, he lets you stand, still leaning on him. He combs through your hair with his fingers, tucking it behind your ears. Then he glances down at the mess he's left between your legs and smirks.

"Leave it."

You raise an eyebrow at him, already reaching to clean yourself up before you leave the forge.

"I'll be home soon. I'll do it myself."

You finally realise what he's saying and squirm at the idea of trying to walk home in the state you're in. Defiled in all the ways that count. But the glint in his eye warns you not to argue.

True to his word, he arrives home not long after you, so you don't wait too long for his tongue to clean up the mess he made.

~

There are warning signs. You missed most, if not all of them. Or wilfully ignored them.

But when the siege horns blare, in your heart of hearts, you know it is Sauron’s doing.

The first place you think to find him is the forge, but instead you find Celebrimbor hunched over his bench, painstakingly at work.

"My lord? Do you not hear the horns? We need to leave!" You try to take his arm to hoist him to his feet, but he shudders and throws you off.

He catches you off balance and you stumble, throwing an arm out to steady yourself.

To your surprise, a large warm hand takes yours and keeps you upright.

"I told you not to come here, love." Sauron remarks, his tone eerily neutral, as if you haven't just stumbled into a nightmare.

"I was... I was looking for you." You mutter, still watching Celebrimbor, concerned for his state of mind as he rambles about mice and candles.

"I told you to stay at home where you'd be safe. Was that simple instruction so beyond you?"

Your head snaps toward him as the sharp knife of his words pierces you between the ribs.

A flurry of questions and indignant remarks fills your head but you merely stare at him, mouth agape, as he disregards you, stepping to the bench to inspect his precious rings.

"How much longer?" His impatience has always been dangerous, but it is in this moment you realise just how so.

"Soon... just the final touches, they are nearly complete." Celebrimbor flinches as Sauron places the ring back on the bench and takes his shoulder in hand.

"Do you hear that? I kept the storm at bay but you chose to peel back the curtain. Your city is falling, but the sooner you deliver the rings, the more of your city you save. Do not fail them."

He takes your hand and leads you out of sight, pushing you up against a wall. His large hand wraps around your neck with such ease, it startles you, and you can do nothing but whimper against him.

"I told you not to come here." He whispers in your ear, hot breath tickling your neck.

"I'm sorry-" you gasp as his thumb constricts a little around your throat, "Needed to know you were safe."

He loosens his grip and smiles fondly at you, though not quite letting it reach his eyes, as your hearts pound in unison.

"Oh darling. Aren't you just perfect?" Then he kisses you hard, before turning you around, pressing your face against the cold hard stone.

Your stomach drops as you realise what he's planning. Surely not, not as the city crumbles around you and the Lord of Eregion sits mere feet away?

"Love, no, not now-"

He enters you with a practised touch, knowing exactly how he has to please you to ease his way in. Your body betrays you as he fucks you without mercy, taking his pleasure from your needy moans and wanton gasps as you succumb to the feeling of him drilling into you from behind.

This is new, as usually he delights in studying your face for every microexpression, taking you in as he ravages you. Now it is solely about what he can take from you, the only thought in his head to come as quickly as inhumanly possible.

It leaves you breathless and panting, and when he peaks, you find yourself grinding into him to try and find some kind of release too.

He chuckles in your ear, thrusting his hand between your thighs.

"What's that, love? Weren't you saying no? Do you want me to let you come? Oh you do? You're lucky that your pleasure is mine, or I might not be so giving..."

His words fade to nothing as your ears ring with siege horns and explosions and the mind-bending sensation of orgasming around Sauron’s cock, even as you know what his plans have wrought.

~

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” you murmur over and over, holding the Lord of Eregion in your lap, trying to heal his wounds well enough that he can finish his work.

The wounds inflicted by the man you call husband in a moment of cruel impatience.

“Amarië, I need him to work, the rings-”

“-will be finished when he can stand. A moment’s peace, for pity’s sake.” You interrupt your husband, turning to look at him to find no pity in his eyes, only jealous rage.

“Let me work, so he can work. This is your doing after all, you should know it will take time.”

Your tone wounds him, the acid in your words corroding his black heart, but he cannot let himself pause in the pursuit of his goal, not when the rings for Men are within such tantalisingly close reach.

The melody you sing over Celebrimbor to knit his flesh eventually soothes his pain and stems the bleeding enough that soon he is sat at his workbench, still wincing, but for your sake, presses on with finishing the rings.

“Watch him, I’ll be back shortly.” Never has Sauron spoken so abruptly with you, and after everything you’ve witnessed today, you’re loath to let him leave with no rebuke.

“After everything He did to you, you would inflict the same torture on someone who has only shown you kindness?”

He glares down at you, only the tiniest furrow of his brow giving anything away about his current train of thought.

"It is… necessary. If he had done what I’d asked, I wouldn’t have been forced to-"

"Absolutely not. Do not do this. Do not blame him for what you have done. That is exactly what Morgoth did to you, what I nursed you through, so don’t try that with me." You’ve never been stern with him before so you’re not sure how he will take it, and frankly neither is he.

“This is not you!”

“But it is me.” He leans in to whisper in your ear. “You just haven’t been paying attention.”

Your stomach drops as he smirks, stalking down the stairs. He looks back up at you a moment.

“Do not let him leave.” His tone cuts you like a knife, and when the door swings closed, you crumble to the floor, head in your arms.

~

"How long have you known?" Galadriel can barely look at you as your tears blind you.

It takes you a long time to answer.

"Too long. I thought he had changed! At first I thought him dead, then he came back so different, I wanted-"

"You wanted your husband." She looks you in the eye, and once again, you feel a wave of nausea overwhelm you.

“It is a twisted, evil fate, that I would take back in a heartbeat, but there is no earthly force that can break us apart. Believe me, I’ve tried.” Your voice breaks and Galadriel cannot help but embrace you; she knows how heavy the bond between couples is, and knows that to try to undo it is a fool’s errand.

“I just want to come home.” You sob into her shoulder, heart breaking for her that she must be the one to comfort you, after all your husband has done to hurt her and her family, and what he has done to your city.

"Are you with me?" She asks, hands on your shoulders as you pull away.

You don't even have to think. Your broken heart speaks for you.

"Whatever it takes."

~

You find him on a cliff's edge, surrounded by orcs that bow and simper as you pass.

"I knew you'd come." He greets you, though he doesn't turn from looking down over the cliff, as if his eye is trained on something no mortal being could see.

"Predictable as always." You quip, but your anger bleeds through and the edge in your voice finally makes him face you.

"You're upset-"

"Oh, really?" You interrupt him with a snort.

"I tried to save Eregion, but Adar-"

"Oh no, don't do that, we both know that was your plan all along. You have always played the long game, don't doubt your abilities now, dear husband."

He smirks, stepping closer, taking your hands in his.

“Tell me the truth, please, just for once.” Your anger and your grief battle for dominance, and even now he feels a tiny pang of guilt.

“You have always known my purpose, my love-”

You interrupt him with your fists, so angry with him now that words fail you. He holds your wrists calmly, impassively, speaking over your outburst as if it had not happened, as if you were merely taking tea on your balcony.

“You have always known that Middle Earth is sick, that it needs healing, and who better than I to do so? I alone have the power and the will to remake this land, and you, my Queen, you will help me fix this broken world.” He is so sincere, smiling down at you as if it is already decided.

You try to pull away, shaking your head and fighting his every movement to keep you in his arms.

“I will not. I cannot, Mairon, I won’t.” You catch yourself and gasp. “Even now, even now I call you by the name you do not deserve.”

The tic in his jaw is back, and he inclines his head slightly, daring you to continue, warning you not to.

“Do you want to hear me say it? The name my kin gave you eons ago? The name you swore was dead and buried, along with your designs to rule the world?”

“You make it sound so inelegant, ‘rule the world’, is it my fault that the peoples of Middle Earth need uniting under a strong leader, one who will bring them the order and balance they so desire?” He is still using that calm, condescending tone that drives you mad, that once soothed you but now feels like fingernails under your skin.

“Is it balance if it is by force? You cannot trick them into acceptance, Mairon.” You know that to reason with him is folly, but you have to try, against all odds, to make him see reason in his madness.

“You want to be worshipped as a god.” You whisper, unable to believe this is the man you married, that you loved. Love. Love, still, as you rail against the feeling, hopeless to break it.

“And you, my goddess. It is as it should be, the right way of things, the people need order, and we can give it to them. You and I.” He traces your face softly, making you shiver. “Only us.”

You fight to break free of his embrace, hands on his chest, but you’re damned if he will let you go, his grip like the iron crown he wishes to place on your head.

"There is no 'us’. Not anymore. There can be no "us", for as long as you are unrepentant, I cannot bear to look upon you." The words taste acrid in your mouth, betraying every feeling still plaguing you deep in your soul.

His face twists, biting back every poisonous word he wishes to fling at you.

"You want to heal Middle Earth? How can one so broken know anything of healing?"

Despite your venom, and the wrenching in your souls, he tenderly holds your chin, upturning your face to him; even now you know exactly who he is, his radiance blinds you. Every heartbeat, every slow exhale, it all seems to stop, as you study his face for what you hope is the last time.

“What makes it worse, what really hurts,” your voice is unsteady, betraying the maelstrom in your heart, “is that in another life, another time, we could have been really happy.” The dam breaks and you cannot help but let a hot tear fall, willing the rest to remain unshed until you are alone.

“Weren’t we?” He seems genuinely confused, crushed even, voice thick with all the things he wants to say, all the things he knows would break you.

The hard expression you’ve worked so hard to maintain cracks; yes, you were, you were so blissfully happy, in those golden days where it was just the two of you, no war, no suffering, just two lovers meeting.

“Do not make me say it,” you choke out, tears now falling freely; gods, you had been so happy, and you wish with all your might to be taken back to those days in your lover’s arms, all tender kisses and warm embraces.

Even in your absolute sorrow, he cannot help but claim you one last time, pressing his lips to yours like you are his last meal on this mortal plain. Unwilling in spirit, but your body melts into him, desperate to forget for just a second before you turn your back on him forever. You can feel the ebb and flow of your souls crackling and churning around you, becoming palpable in the very air you breathe.

You break away first, hesitant to allow this moment to end. But it must.

“Do not go where I cannot follow.” He murmurs into the hollow of your throat, as he grips your hair and pulls your head back. With a heavy sigh you press your lips to his forehead, and back away, his fingers trailing yours as you part.

“You can follow, any time you wish.” Your voice breaks, as does your heart, clean in two, as you turn your back and leave him on that accursed precipice.

The golden ring on your finger seems almost to pulsate with heat; indeed you had quite forgotten it was there. You raise your hand to inspect it, tiny engraved letters filling the band that you had never seen before.

You could feel Sauron’s power in the ring, its binding magic pulling your heart back to the comfort of his embrace.

“Read it.” His voice behind you is hard but pleading, wrenching your heart.

The script on the ring burns red like coals on the fire as you hold it up, trying to make out what he engraved there.

Two Rings to bind what Evil tried to rend,

Two Rings for a King and Queen, their bond none can transcend,

Two Rings to rule them all, a power with no end

A tiny part of you is touched that he poured so much of himself into a ring meant to soften Morgoth’s curse upon the pair of you. The rest of you is incensed that he would use your love to satisfy his craving for power.

“You simply cannot resist, can you?” Your voice shakes with anger as you turn back to face him, his face falling as he realises that perhaps you would not be so easily won.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he shakes his head as if he hasn’t an inkling what might have upset you.

“You know very well. A ring to bind me to you? Very well, you told me what it was when you gave it to me. But a ring to bring you the power you crave? To bind all the other rings of power to you, to dominate the free peoples of Middle Earth with a trinket? I cannot be a part of it!”

You stop for a moment, pausing in the realisation that your husband has not yet, to your knowledge, forged his own ring. Perhaps there is hope.

“I cannot be a part of it. But I will take it with me.” You say, holding up your hand. “For safekeeping.”

He does not argue. Instead he smirks and tells you, “I’d have it no other way.”

Perhaps you should be concerned, but surely it would do more harm in his hands than yours.

“You don’t want this.” For the first time in millennia, his voice shakes as he calls after you.

You turn on your heel and search his face for any sign at all that he might still come with you.

“You don’t know my heart.” It tastes a lie as it leaves your lips, but it’s the only retort you have.

With a soft smile, knowing and terrible, he replies, “Darling, I am your heart.”

The space where your heart used to be twists and shatters, leaving you breathless.

“Then you know how much this hurts. Please, don’t make it worse.” With that, you take your leave, refusing to turn around without him at your back, abandoning him to his chosen fate.

“Amarië,” you hear him softly behind you, as you refuse to look back.

“Amarië, do not foresake me!” It is an interesting choice of words, considering Morgoth’s curse that dooms you both to the other’s absence, and the irony is not lost on you.

“Do not let Him take you from me again!”

You stop in your tracks, turning on your heel.

“This is not His doing, my love.” You hold fast as he stalks towards you, trembling slightly as you take in your husband in all his fury.

He towers above you, taking your face in his hands.

“It is yours.” You whisper, your strength waning as he lowers himself to claim you in a crushing kiss, hands wrapping tightly around your neck and waist.

You can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t do anything but kiss him back with abandon, feel his hands digging into your sides, the pain in your heart-

“Give up this madness. Come with me. Please, you said once you’d do anything for the love of me. So come with me.” You plead with him, grasping his hands tightly as if it were possible to change his mind simply by imbuing his flesh with your will.

After what feels like the longest pause of your life, Sauron gazing into your eyes with an inscrutable expression, he rests his forehead to yours.

“I must heal Middle Earth. And I will do it with or without you.” His voice breaks, like your heart.

You pull away and nod, refusing to look at him.

“Then know this is not your master’s doing, it is entirely your own.”

You turn and start walking, in desperate hope your people will forgive you, will take you in now you have nowhere else to turn.

He screams your name until he is hoarse, but he does not follow. He can always find you; time and space are no obstacles to the likes of your bond.

But that does not fill the hole in his arms where the world used to be, the space meant for you.

[swagging-back-to]

worst trope is found family separating as soon as the antagonist is dealt with.

[sophaeros]

ALBERT HAMMOND JR.: After I moved in with Catherine and he moved in with Juliet, we just didn't hang out the same way anymore. I missed his energy. I got sad; I felt a distance between us. That was a big part for me in this band—just hanging out with him, just being friends with him. We lived together for seven years. I've never lived with a girl that long. JULIAN CASABLANCAS: Does that mean anything to me? I mean, of course. The way I remember it, we were roommates and we moved places and I wanted to stay roommates and I feel like maybe he was not so into it anymore. Albert, you don't know what you've got til it's gone, baby!

— Albert and Julian on Julian's marriage to Juliet, from Meet Me In The Bathroom by Lizzy Goodman, interviewed around 2011 (x)

[daddy-long-legssss]

The Story Behind The Song: Arctic Monkeys’ early ambitions on ‘A Certain Romance’

Lucy Harbron – Far Out Magazine | January 17, 2024

It was 2006. Mortgages were crashing, and businesses were going bust. Tony Blair was on his last legs in office as the longest-serving prime minister since Margaret Thatcher, and the hangover of ‘Cool Brittania’ was beginning to set in with an unexpected ferocity. Things were bleak when a young Alex Turner sang, “There ain’t no romance around there” through the public’s speakers. Arctic Monkeys were about to write themselves into musical history as the voice of a new generation.

The final song on their debut album, there has always been something special about ‘A Certain Romance’. In 2022, after the release of their seventh album, The Car, Turner seemed to find himself reflecting back on that 2006 track. To the musician, that early cut holds a clue to everything that was to come as he said the piece “showed that we did actually have these ambitions beyond what we once thought we were capable of”.

Coming in at over the five-minute mark, ‘A Certain Romance’ almost feels like the Arctic Monkeys’ version of a rock opera, summarising all the themes, feelings and energy that came before it on their seminal album Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not. It has the cheekiness of ‘Fake Tales Of San Francisco’ and the catchy instrumentals of hits like ‘Dancing Shoes’ or ‘I Bet That You Look Good On The Dancefloor’. Utilising the northern charm of ‘Mardy Bum’, it stands as a final, neatly summarising point on the social commentary found in their early tracks like ‘From The Ritz To The Rubble’ or ‘Riot Van’. Really, it could be argued that ‘A Certain Romance’ is the ultimate example of Arctic Monkeys’ original sound, perfectly encapsulating all the things that made the world listen up and pay attention.

It’s like they seemed to know that, too, always allowing the song a special place. In fact, it was really the band’s opening remark. Years before the offer of a debut album came around, the group were a well-oiled machine with their own local hits. They had the northern live music scene in their hands as their homemade demo CD was passed around like everyone’s worst-kept secret. Beneath the Boardwalk features eight out of the 13 songs that would be on Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not, albeit in a slightly different, lower-quality version. But the opening number, ‘A Certain Romance’, sounds just the same.

It’s all there, from the rolling opening drums to that final guitar solo. Recorded and produced in a rented studio at only age 17, the existence of ‘A Certain Romance’, one of the band’s most explorative and energetic numbers, in this form this early in their career feels like a diamond sitting in a mine. It proves that they were always onto something special.

They never needed any help. In fact, their producer, Jim Abbiss, noted that they even seemed nervous about the help. “I think they were probably a bit weary, like ‘who’s this guy? And is he gonna make our sound this or that.’”

They didn’t want anything to change too much, as the group already had the songs figured out. Turner certainly did, as the track’s meandering narrative about hometown lads, fights, and local boredom is already there. Talking on a podcast, original member Andy Nicholson revealed the story behind the song. “We had a practice room with a pool table in, and we had a party in there, and we invited another band who were friends of ours, and we all had some drinks,” he said. “Then something happened, someone throws a pool cue, someone throws a pool ball, and everyone ends up fighting,” he added, explaining the lyrics, “there’s boys in bands / And kids who like to scrap with pool cues in their hands.”

But the magic of Arctic Monkeys lies in their nuance. What begins as a snooty analysis of his local landscape is a genuinely affectionate take. “Well, over there, there’s friends of mine / What can I say? I’ve known ’em for a long long time / And, yeah, they might overstep the line / But you just cannot get angry in the same way,” Turner sings, looking around at his bandmates and lifelong friends. ‘A Certain Romance’ is not only a time capsule for the group’s beginnings but is an ode to all the people who were there with them. It’s an ode to the hometown that made them and all its various characters.

But as the last guitar solo roars to life, there is an unspoken statement that they’re going to be bigger than what they came from. “I remember when we were recording ‘A Certain Romance’ and having a conversation with the producer about the final guitar solo,” Turner told NME, recalling the moment these songs were reworked for their debut. But they wouldn’t let anyone mess with ‘A Certain Romance’, knowing exactly what they were doing and trying to say with that one. In the 2003 demo version, all the feeling is already there, and Turner wouldn’t risk it.

“There’s something that happens at the end of that track where we break some rules in a single moment,” he continued. What happens at the end of the piece feels even more special, considering how the album was recorded. “These are the songs we wanna do, and I think this is the order we wanna do them in,” Alex Turner told their producer, recounting the conversation in 2007 to RadioX, “And he goes, ‘alright, we’ll try to record them in that order as well.’” As the final song, that last guitar solo is the last thing recorded for the album, standing as a cathartic outlet and a chance for the band to prove themselves.

“We focused on the [emotional] effect of the instrumentals over the words,” Turner reflected on the track, concluding, “and I feel like we’ve been trying to do that again and again since then.”

+

[deus-ex-mona]

such is the tale of a ✨chronically online hypocrite✨

[wonder-worker]

J.L. Laynesmith taking the 'Buckingham Did It™' route for the murder of the Princes in the Tower AND the rumors of Edward IV's bastardy ... I have to laugh