#that may or may not be bela Lugosi | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hotvintagepoll · 10 months ago

Text

Congrats to the ultimate winner of the Hot & Vintage Movie Men Tournament, Mr. Toshiro Mifune! May he live happily and well where the sun always shines, enjoying the glories of a battle hard fought.

A loving farewell to all of our previous contestants, who are now banished to the shadow realm and all its dark joys and whispered horrors—I hear there's a picnic on the village green today. If you want to remember the fallen heroes, you can find them all beneath the cut.

What happens next? I'll be taking a break of two weeks to rest from this and prep for the Hot & Vintage Ladies Tournament. I'll still be around but only minimally, posting a few last odes to the hot men before transitioning into a little early ladies content, just like I did with this last tournament. The submission form for the Hot & Vintage Ladies tournament will remain up for one more week (closing February 21st), so get your submissions in for that asap! Once the form closes, there will be one more week of break. The first round of the Hot & Vintage Ladies Tournament will be posted on February 29th, as Leap Year Day seems like a fitting allusion to leaping into these ladies' arms.

Thanks for being here! Enjoy the two weeks off, and send me some great propaganda.

In order of the last round they survived—

ROUND ONE HOTTIES:

Richard Burton

Tony Curtis

Red Skelton

Keir Dullea

Jack Lemmon

Kirk Douglas

Marcello Mastroianni

Jean-Pierre Cassel

Robert Wagner

James Garner

James Coburn

Rex Harrison

George Chakiris

Dean Martin

Sean Connery

Tab Hunter

Howard Keel

James Mason

Steve McQueen

George Peppard

Elvis Presley

Rudolph Valentino

Joseph Schildkraut

Ray Milland

Claude Rains

John Wayne

William Holden

Douglas Fairbanks Sr.

Harold Lloyd

Charlie Chaplin

John Gilbert

Ramon Novarro

Slim Thompson

John Barrymore

Edward G. Robinson

William Powell

Leslie Howard

Peter Lawford

Mel Ferrer

Joseph Cotten

Keye Luke

Ivan Mosjoukine

Spencer Tracy

Felix Bressart

Ronald Reagan (here to be dunked on)

Peter Lorre

Bob Hope

Paul Muni

Cornel Wilde

John Garfield

Cantinflas

Henry Fonda

Robert Mitchum

Van Johnson

José Ferrer

Robert Preston

Jack Benny

Fredric March

Gene Autry

Alec Guinness

Fayard Nicholas

Ray Bolger

Orson Welles

Mickey Rooney

Glenn Ford

James Cagney

ROUND TWO SWOONERS:

Dick Van Dyke

James Edwards

Sammy Davis Jr.

Alain Delon

Peter O'Toole

Robert Redford

Charlton Heston

Cesar Romero

Noble Johnson

Lex Barker

David Niven

Robert Earl Jones

Turhan Bey

Bela Lugosi

Donald O'Connor

Carman Newsome

Oscar Micheaux

Benson Fong

Clint Eastwood

Sabu Dastagir

Rex Ingram

Burt Lancaster

Paul Newman

Montgomery Clift

Fred Astaire

Boris Karloff

Gilbert Roland

Peter Cushing

Frank Sinatra

Harold Nicholas

Guy Madison

Danny Kaye

John Carradine

Ricardo Montalbán

Bing Crosby

ROUND THREE SMOKESHOWS:

Marlon Brando

Anthony Perkins

Michael Redgrave

Gary Cooper

Conrad Veidt

Ronald Colman

Rock Hudson

Basil Rathbone

Laurence Olivier

Christopher Plummer

Johnny Weismuller

Clark Gable

Fernando Lamas

Errol Flynn

Tyrone Power

Humphrey Bogart

ROUND 4 STUNGUNS:

James Dean

Cary Grant

Gregory Peck

Sessue Hayakawa

Harry Belafonte

James Stewart

Gene Kelly

Peter Falk

QUARTERFINALIST VOLCANIC TOWERS OF LUST:

Jeremy Brett

Vincent Price

James Shigeta

Buster Keaton

SEMIFINALIST SUPERMEN:

Omar Sharif

Paul Robeson

FINALIST FANTASIES:

Sidney Poitier

Toshiro Mifune

and ok, sure, here's the shadow-bracket-style winner's portrait of Toshiro Mifune.

#hotvintagepoll #hot men finals #a winner crowned!#fuck that old man (requiem)#shadow bracket #toshiro mifune

4K notes · View notes

paperbackribs · 10 months ago

Text

for the 'Eddie freaks out over How to Survive a Werewolf Attack' post and those who missed the upload on Ao3, this is the second part of the chapter from Steve's POV, with a little protective stobin to delight

🦇🐺🦇🐺🦇

Steve leaves the pulse of the woods behind him as he emerges from the trees that abut his backyard. He’d smelled Robin long before shifting back into his human form, the sharp mint of her shampoo mixing alongside the sweet earthiness that he now attributes to family. Never having had one, he nevertheless knows that the combination will always mean sister.

Circling the pool, its night lights cast an uncanny, rippling blue across the surface, he heads to where she sits under the warm yellow lights, propped on her elbows against the wrought-iron patio table. In her cupped hands rests a book with an overflowing tree protectively sheltering a dog and her pups, Woman and Nature carefully inscribed above them.

She stirs as he approaches, inserting a receipt between the pages to save her place and resting it beside her. Looking into her concerned eyes, Steve grimaces. “Well, that went well,” he says lightly, feeling the need to inject some humour into the memory or he may be tempted to dwell on the ache that wants to rise instead.

Robin’s face softens and he knows that she can feel his hurt even without him saying it. They’re so connected sometimes that he wonders if his wolf forged something with her when they’d sat there, bound and interrogated by Russians, only able to depend on each other. “He was a little freaked out from the unexpected is all and he just needs to get used to the idea before…”

She trails off and Steve finishes her sentence, “Before he can be in the same room as me? Robs, the guy practically had a panic attack on my mother’s Giorgetti rug. I could smell his fear: he was terrified that I was going to eat him or something.”

Robin’s lips firm as she drums her fingers over the book cover, “Yeah, well, that’s his problem. After you left, we gave him the rundown; that you’re just a normal wolf—”

Steve snorts: there’s nothing normal about his transformations at all, but Robin ignores him to continue, “—and hopefully if he’s affected by the bites then it’ll turn him into a normal bat too.”

“And how’d he take that?” Steve asks curiously.

“Oh, another meltdown,” Robin says blithely, “He’s now convinced that he’s going to turn into Bela Lugosi and will be prowling the night for his victims before we know it.” Steve laughs despite himself, already able to imagine Eddie making exaggerated gestures in the middle of the group.

“Did he hiss like a vampire?”

“Nah, but he did do that thing, you know with the cape?” She shields half her face with her forearm as if hiding menacingly behind it. Fond amusement fills Steve, as if often does when faced with Eddie’s dramatics only for it to quickly drain away at the reminder of how drastically he had taken Steve’s shift.

Robin notes his change of mood and scowls at an absent Eddie. “Scaredy-cat,” she mutters darkly, “Should have called him a scaredy-bat to his face.”

Steve chuckles and leans forward to gently tug on a lock of her blonde hair, “And then give him my nail bat…”

“So, he’d be a scaredy-bat with a nail bat that lost his bat-le shield.”

Steve waggles his hand in a so-so motion, “Could use some work.”

“Oh, screw you, buddy, I did all the work,” Robin’s eyes dance with humour even as she pokes him with a sharp finger at his ribs. Steve squirms away, “I gave you the nail bat!” He mock protests before the image of Eddie’s wide and terrified eyes crosses his mind again. He sighs, “Do you think I should avoid him for a while? Let him get used to the idea before springing myself on him again?”

Robin leans back with a too wide smile, its awkwardness immediately transparent. “What?” Steve asks suspiciously.

Her brow furrows in an apology that gives lie to the smile, “We’re meeting back here tomorrow. El thinks that she might be able to lead him through a change if he’s got it in him, and we all thought it better to get the potential of it all out of the way before Eddie devolves into one big puddle of fear.”

Rubbing the bridge of his forehead, Steve sighs, “So, not only is he freaked out by the sight of me but I’m going to see him in the next twenty-four hours.”

Robin looks at her bulky men’s watch with a grimace, “More like twelve. We figured that we should get it over sooner or later, and this way he can work out whether he wants to freak out over being a bat or a vampire.”

“Or neither,” Steve points out.

She shrugs, “It seems unlikely, right? Correlation doesn’t equal causation, and you may be the outlier, the one cool weirdo out there.”

“Thank you,” he says dryly even though he does appreciate her positive spin on his furry little situation.

It had been months after the events over Halloween, when he’d been bitten by a demo-dog, that he’d started to notice the first few small changes. At first, he’d been convinced that it was the world that had transformed: smells becoming deeper, sights becoming sharper, but after one night where he had been panicked to find that his feet were no longer so far away, and suspiciously clawed, that he’d come to the realisation that it was his senses that had evolved, not the sun or the trees or the perfume of his history teacher.

The kids, while excited, had been very little help, but their encouragement had made him feel less alone. He took Dustin’s attempt to turn him into a science experiment in stride and as an extension of the little butthead’s support. But it was when Robin had been brought into the Upside Down fold that he’d felt truly embraced.

Surprisingly, rather than turning to books and research, she’d listened to him instead. Asked Steve what he wanted to be called when he was turned and let him talk about the oddities and freedoms he’d found in this new version of himself.

Steve had already known that the wolf would be a part of him forever, but Robin’s role in his life had cemented that feeling into a bone-deep acceptance, an understanding that he wasn’t weird or wrong for his new transformation, but that it was simply another part of Steve. Or Furry Steve as Robin would gently tease him.

“Are you staying over?” He asks now, watching her smother a yawn and nod in agreement.

He stands, waiting until she walks through the door before flipping the light switch off, the flurry of moths above flutter in confusion at the sudden darkness. “We can practise some more on the way home tomorrow if you like.”

Robin had gained her license a month ago, but with no car to drive Steve was building her confidence by having her drive his. She often teased that their love was a true one since she’s the only one allowed to touch the bimmer.

Wrapping an arm around his waist, they walk through the kitchen and head to his bedroom in unspoken agreement. “That’d be great. Do you want to wolf-out or be on your side of the bed,” she counters sleepily, leaving her book on the counter as they pass.

He hums, thinking. Months ago, after they’d worked out that the Upside Down nightmares were better handled when they knew the other one was in the room, Robin had struggled with having Steve in her bed.

It’s not that he wasn’t welcome, she’d reassured him, or wanted, she’d said with a haunted expression, clearly thinking of having woken up silently screaming not moments before. But having his skin touch hers made her irritable in a way that she had no explanation for. Fur, however, was fine.

Since then, if Steve needed cuddles he was allowed to wolf-out, as they decided to call it. Once transformed, Robin had no problem with Steve’s fur covering her skin; rather, she quite liked the partial weight of his body.

He thinks that tonight he’d like the reassurance that there is one person who is not only unafraid of him but likes the differences that make him not-quite-human.

“Wolf-out,” he responds, letting go and allowing the wolf to unfold. The sweet musk of the kids sharpens, even with them having departed hours ago, as does the appealingly darker scent of Eddie, although it is bitterer than it normally is as if his fear had saturated the small space.

His tail drops sadly at the reminder, but Robin distracts him with scritches behind the ear before leading their way up the stairs to his bedroom. Steve pads behind, happy to have a friend in Robin and determinedly putting Eddie out of his mind for the rest of the night.

If you enjoyed any of this drop me a comment over at Ao3, it'd make my day! (fic now titled Swift Wings and a Brave Heart)

#platonic stobin #steddie #steve harrington #robin buckley #stranger things #paperbackribs writing

216 notes · View notes

goblins-riddles-or-frocks · 2 months ago

Note

If fighting vampire nazis, gore and guns wasn’t the focus of hellsing, what do you think the actual plot/main conflict could have been? I came across a post where you said alucard is wasted potential so … what kind of plot would show his potential? Also, what kind of a character arc do you think he should have had in a better and more thoughtfully plotted hellsing

Well I wouldn’t say the story isn’t thoughtfully plotted out :C

Like yes, it’s an over the top, campy, gorefest that makes no sense, but it succeeds in what it’s trying to do basically. I think it is genuinely, astonishingly good in a few ways. Hirano is fantastic at pacing and using his panels to give the impression he wants— when he bothers. And it’s surprisingly sound when it comes to structure and thematic motifs? The external plot is bonkers, but the way it handles these characters dealing with/being consumed by their pasts, and the way it uses vampirism/monstrosity as a metaphor is really solid.

Hellsing’s main thematic argument is one of comparing monstrosity and humanity, and pitting them against each other.

All the relevant monsters in Hellsing are presented to be unmoored, destructive, and unable to cope with the present in a meaningful way. They are defined by being incapable of moving beyond their pasts, so they seek out as much destruction as they can until they finally find something that can destroy them in turn. (This is consistent throughout the series but most clearly stated in volume 9)

All the monsters presented in Hellsing grapple with the inability to move on. Explicitly, Millennium’s entire raison d’être is bringing about a final “glorious” war they can die in because the modern world has no place for them anymore. They fight with fucking zeppelins. They’re relics.

Seras’ fight with Zorin hinges on a flashback, digging up all the trauma she never confronted. Walter and Alucard’s final battle is entirely about their history, and it has both of them looking like they did during the Dawn era.

Meanwhile, when Anderson uses the Nail of Helena (directly following the unraveling of Iscariot, and the death of Maxwell, who may as well have been his son), that is him refusing to cope. That is what drives him to monstrosity, to self destruction. That’s why he dies.

And Alucard, as the de facto protagonist, has spent the entire plot with the single motive of finding someone worthwhile to defeat him. He has no personal motivations outside of doing whatever Integra/Hellsing tells him to, and just… killing things for the love of the game until he eventually, finally dies. And his past hangs heaviest on the series. The entire present state of the series basically hinges on the shit he did as Dracula. The one thing we know about this guy is that if he could, he would very much like to die while killing things lol.

Anderson is meanwhile his main foil and most strongly represents the past/the siren song of death to him. He’s suspiciously similar in appearance to Van Helsing in the Bela Lugosi movie (despite Van Helsing looking different in the series itself) Meanwhile each encounter with him is immediately followed by a flashback, and then in that final fight Alucard ends up confronting his past human life.

And he almost gives up during that last fight, until Seras (a representation of the present and future) rouses him out of it. That’s his first real choice to move on. But it’s also established that eventually his past is going to catch up to him, and outweigh his future. It’s treated as a foregone conclusion, even if he’s not to that point yet.

So the Schrodinger thing at the end is really interesting. Because bullshit anime logic or not, the point is that he explicitly has to kill every single familiar he’s accumulated over the centuries, in order to exist in the present. Even then he’s “everywhere and nowhere” (lmao. whatever) which basically gives him the option to fizzle out of existence? So the epilogue existing at all, despite my various annoyances with its writing choices, is an interesting culmination of his arc! He chose to come back to his silly little found family when he really didn’t have to! I like that as an arc.

And in any sort of restructure I would want that preserved, even if the entire plot isn’t conveyed through boss battles. Anyway I’ve said for ages that I would want a monster of the week version of the series, so probs something like that.

Something with like the BTVS (or Supernatural lol) classic structure of small fry enemies per episode that culminate in a season arc/big bad. The ideal tonal and stylistic comparison would be X Files, but their overarching narratives famously sucked lol. Anyway I just would’ve liked a procedural vibe like that. I think the implications of Integra taking over the Badrick situation in the first volume is really interesting. And Seras being a police officer who was super not in the know— when higher ranking people are— was something that could’ve been explored in much more depth. I would’ve loved to see her as a recurring character in their like procedural episodes who keeps brushing up against this weird paranormal leaning stuff she doesn’t understand, until she finally gets involved in something that goes wrong and has to be turned into a vampire (ostensibly to save her life… but maybe to keep her quiet)

I also would love more intra organization drama that doesn’t result in immediate blood shed lol. We’re told that Iscariot and Hellsing have clearly mapped out jurisdictions based on majority religion, and treaties and diplomatic relationships, however strained. Maxwell going “fuck your treaties” is apparently a new thing, so like how does that go! What are the repercussions! What brought this on! And like are there any other similar organizations abroad? Are there team ups? I would like there to be team ups.

Meanwhile the existence of the round table implies that… the entire UK government.. is a sham? That they’re actually living in a secret feudal society? I want to know about the families and the politics and the very likely cartoonish degrees of corruption! The original Studio Gonzo show, very poorly, implemented a plotline where Hellsing became too much of a liability and the Queen specifically decided (lol) to have them publicly labeled as a terrorist organization and arrest everyone involved, pretending that they never had any government ties. That was fun! I would like a good version.

Or like it’s set in the 90s, let’s talk about how much harder it’s going to be to keep the supernatural quiet with the rise of technology, and the Internet. Like idk there’s room for a lot! I would basically just love to see a more sprawling version of this story and world.

My main issue with Alucard also is just that he’s so overpowered physically, that it seems like a waste to always put him in fights where he is 100% no question going to win. Putting him on a ship because the plot simply wouldn’t happen if he was there is 😭😭😭 I think we can have some boss battles, gore, and body horror, bc that is fun. But he just needs more restraints. I’d put more focus on him answering to Integra, who in turn answers to the slow moving machine that is bureaucracy, and just not let him do as much, and with severe consequences if he gets too out of line to maintain some stakes. Meanwhile, having a more mystery procedural approach would’ve balanced things out a bit more imo!

#hellsing #hellsing ultimate #long post #i ramble sometimes #all the bendy punctuations #a mysterious stranger has appeared #meta

57 notes · View notes

nerdynonbinarylife · 8 months ago

Text

The German Aziraphale & Crowley

Okay, hear me out. I know it sounds a little weird, but these two idiots are perfect. May I introduce to you the guitarist and the drummer of the German punk-band 'Die Ärzte' (which translates to 'The Doctors' which is funny cause - you know - David Tennant was...Where was I? Oh, yeah! So!) Farin Urlaub

loves books (he is being called 'The intellectual of the Band' from his Band members)

loves tea (even drinks it while being on stage)

speaks several languages (including german, english, french, spanish, portuguese, japanese and italian)

'chronically positive'

cute smile

Bela B

Farin's gothic (husband) best friend

Dark and unique fashion sense

called himself 'Bela' after Bela Lugosi aka Dracula

Sex, Drugs and Rock'n'Roll

sexy as hell

Facts about Farin & Bela

known each other for a long time (they became friends as teenagers)

absolutley different but share the same opinions and humour

flirting - like - a LOT on stage and in interviews

There were a few kisses but all footage of it is blurry and not enough

Thanks for reading.

Oh, and since I didn't even mentioned the bassist of the band here's a GIF of him. He's cute. He's my Muriel. :3

#sorry not sorry #die ärzte #good omens #bela b #farin urlaub #aziraphale #crowley #muriel #aziracrow #fub #ineffable husbands

146 notes · View notes

bezkinechnanudga · 3 months ago

Text

I watched Dracula 1931, the one with Bela Lugosi and found it kinda passable, average 6out of 10 experience.

Kinda funny that Count mannerisms were made to make him creepier, but in the end, he just looks a little bit autistic to me.

BUT!!! May I talk about the best part of this movie, that is Renfield with his thirties German decadent actor swag. Just look at him

He is everything any modern art enjoyer would need: insane, pathetic, dramatic, and queer. The fly eating babygirl that I didn't know I needed.

Look at his little gay walk:

Me when my master promises me millions of rats:

#dracula #dracula 1931 #renfield #ooooooooooooooooooooayauauauauauaur

43 notes · View notes

weirdlookindog · 1 year ago

Text

Vampira and Ed Wood in "Bride of the Monster" benefit for Bela Lugosi at the Paramount Theater, Hollywood, May 11, 1955.

#vampira #ed wood #bela lugosi #1955 #1950s

148 notes · View notes

orions-choker · 4 months ago

Text

+:★:+* Chapter Two: Hit The Lights +:★:+*

“Okay so, Dracula is a yes, Frankenstein no?” Kirk's eyebrows were raised in intrigue, leaned forward across the table, beer in hand. “Why not?”

Y/N scoffed, leaning forward and grabbing the drink from his hands to take a sip. She may not be of legal age to drink yet but she was confident the waiters in the restaurant wouldn't notice if she stole a few sips. “Well..” she placed the beer back into Kirk's grasp, ignoring the offended look he gave her. “What's hotter, rich guy in a castle who drinks blood and keeps hot ladies around? Or an undead monster made of rotting body parts?”

“What the fuck are you two talking about?” James interjected, leaning over the back of his booth with Lars into their own. His long hair tickled Y/N's shoulders and she swatted him away.

Tilting her head back to look up at her brother, Y/N frowned. “The fuck-ability of classic movie monsters.” She helpfully informed him. She grabbed a slice of her pizza and shoved it in his mouth forcefully. “Now butt out, you won't contribute anything helpful anyways.”

Laughter graced Y/N's ears from across the table, a blush rising to her cheeks. A sense of pride washed over her knowing she could so easily make Kirk happy with her antics. “Fuckin’ weirdos,” James grumbled, turning around to slump back in his seat with the others.

Y/N and Kirk had been banished to their own booth by the rest of the guys. One too many drinks had the two of them howling like hyenas, not letting anyone else get a word in edgewise. “Alright so your into vampires, I'll keep that in mind.” Kirk nodded nonchalantly, taking a bite of their shared pizza.

With a grin and a shake of her head Y/N protested. “Nuh uh, you have to tell me your thoughts on it.” there was a mischievous glint in her eye as she leaned across the table on her elbows.

There was a pause and a thoughtful hum from Kirk. “Y'know come to think of it, I don't want to fuck either of them.” His declaration earned a scandalized gasp from Y/N. “I do, however , want to be Dracula, I like biting things and I think I would make a pretty hot vampire, don't you agree?” He leaned back against the seat, his tongue briefly snaking out to swipe along his teeth. God she loved those teeth.

It felt like her blood was boiling beneath her skin as Y/N stared at him across the table. Her mouth unable to form words as she stared at him, his skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, his white button down clinging to his skin, the sleeves rolled up just to his elbows. His hair was starting to get longer now as well, sticking just lightly to his forehead.

She scoffed, rolling her eyes to snap herself out of the trance he had induced on her. “Ugh as if, sorry Kirky you have nothing on my man Bela Lugosi.” She waved her hand dismissively at him. She felt him kick her shin lightly from beneath the table, causing the two of them to erupt into giggles once more.

On the bus the five of them had settled into a comfortable routine. The boys would all get shitfaced drunk through the night, Y/N would sit with them as her form of entertainment until she got tired of the yelling and went to bed. No one would wake until their next show and they would grab food after. It was the closest thing Y/N had to a routine or anything resembling normalcy since she was a kid.

Y/N liked the shows too, standing off to the side with the roadies, getting to watch her brother and best friends live out their dreams each night. What she didn't enjoy, was some of the people that tagged along after.

She was used to the booze, the women brought around, mostly by her own brother and Lars, never Kirk though, never Kirk. The drugs on the other hand, left her with a deep unsettled feeling in her stomach.

It started off with weed, acid occasionally when Cliff felt like it. At some point though the boys started doing bumps, thin powdery white lines off tables, dashboards, people. It happened, she supposed, when you got deep into the scene. The roadies, tech guys, bar owners it seemed everyone was offering them drugs.

Even in her brothers less than sober state, James was insistent she stay far away from it. Pretty hard to do when it completely surrounded her. She hadn't even drank before she joined the boys and now it seemed she had one in her hand all the time.

The five of them boarded the bus again, Y/N complaining with a laugh as she tried to push a drunk Lars off of her, his arm slung around her shoulders as he hollered about something she couldn't bother paying attention to.

Kirk was passing a joint between himself and Cliff, Y/N's eyes lingered on the plumes of smoke passing between Kirk's lips. She jumped, startled, as Lars leaned forward whispering in his ear.

“You fuck him yet or what.”

Y/N gasped, slapping Lars away from her. He laughed heartily, barely shielding himself from her beatings. No one questioned the abuse Y/N inflicted on him, he usually deserved it.

Cliff was the first to catch on to Y/N's crush on Kirk. He was sweet about it at the least, his teasing gentle and brotherly. Lars found out next and it had been consistently the same bullying. She could only hope that her brother and most of all Kirk wouldn't find out.

“Ugh fuck you guys I'm going to bed.” She groaned, her eyes rolling to the side as she pried herself away from Lars. She stumbled to the back still buzzed from the drinks she stole from Kirk in the restaurant.

She heard footsteps behind her as she reached the sliding door to her room. “Hey Y/N,” Kirk's voice caught her off guard. “You don't want to hang out anymore?” He asked his big brown eyes pleading.

Shaking her head with a reassuring smile Y/N explained “Lars is pissing me off, I'm tired anyways.”

Kirk pursed his lips, a contemplative look on his face. He opened his mouth wordlessly before shaking his head. He smiled warmly at her. “Okay, goodnight Y/N.” He sighed, reaching out to ruffle her hair.

She leaned gently into the touch before he walked away. Tingles ran across her skin as she lay down that night. Curling into the scratchy sheets of her bed, gathering her plush animals and pillows within her arms as she imagined laying next to him that night.

When Y/N awoke the next day it was starting to darken outside, she was used to this nocturnal lifestyle now. She stumbled from her room, clutching at the side of her head, her shoulder knocking into the walls.

“Morning Princess,’ James teased her, leaning back from the open fridge, beer in hand. “Sleep well?”

The only response he received was a guttural groan from Y/N. Her hands rummaging around the mostly empty cupboards until she found ibuprofen. She threw herself on the couch between Kirk and Lars, neither of which were truly awake.

Her head fell to the side resting on top of Kirk's shoulder. Her eyes glazed over mindlessly watching the cartoons playing on the Tv. In return his head fell on hers, his arm slinging around her shoulders. “What time's the show tonight?” She finally mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

James handed a beer to each of the guys, purposely passing over Y/N's waiting hand. She glared at him. “Its at 6, you got two hours kiddo, hit the shower before we do.” He sandwiched himself between her and Lars.

Y/N tilted her head back releasing another distressed groan. She shrugged Kirks arm off her and stood up. Despite her protests as she shuffled to the small shared bathroom, she sighed in relief as the warm water hit her skin. It soothed the pain the hangover caused her.

The room filled with the warm cinnamon scents of her body wash and hair products. She took extra time to blow dry her hair and do up her makeup in the lighting of the bathroom. She emerged to the protests of the boys as they scrambled to take quick showers before the show.

Kirk was the first to join her outside, leaning against the side of their bus, hair still dripping as he lit a cigarette. Y/N frowned leaning over and plucking it from his lips. “Ive told you how unhealthy that is.” She complained.

He pried it back from her with a sheepish smile. “I know, I know sorry, pre show jitters.” He sighed, flicking his ash on the pavement. Y/N smiled fondly at him. Despite being three months into the tour she could still feel the nervousness radiating off him.

The two fell into a comfortable silence watching the sky go from a dark dusty blue to almost pitch black. “Hey Y/N, I've been meaning to ask you-” Kirk's sentence was cut short by the rowdy hollering of the rest of the band leaving the bus. A frown tugged at his face. “Nevermind, later.” He sighed.

Y/N smiled at him confused, nodding her head slowly. She followed everyone to the back door of the venue, settling down on an empty equipment case as the boys did soundcheck. Her head nodding along to the heavy rhythm they put down.

“Hey Y/N!” A deep voice called out from behind her. Her head snapped around to be greeted by one of their tech guys. Fuck she couldn't remember his name.

“Heeeey….Mike!” That was it she was pretty sure. By the way his face lit up she assumed she was right. “What's up?” She asked as he sat down across from her.

Y/N's eyes darted from the man in front of her back to the stage, Kirk's picking seemed more aggressive, his eyes locked on to her own. She looked back to the man as he finished off the sentence she hadn't been paying attention to. She couldn't help but wonder what was pissing Kirk off so much.

“So what do you say? Dinner with me tonight after the show?”

“What?” Y/N spluttered out, her eyes snapping to attention, eyebrows raised hidden by her teased bangs. The gears in her brain shifted as she comprehended what he had just asked her. With a fake smile plastered on her face she apologized. “Sorry, after show tradition for me to grab pizza with the guys, thanks for the offer though.”

The mans face fell, shoulders slumping lightly. “Yeah of course, maybe another time.” He sighed, standing up from his seat. He shuffled away without another word.

Y/N's shoulders shivered, she frowned, shaking her head as if she could rid herself of the uncomfortable question. She turned back to the stage just in time to catch the end of their soundcheck. Kirk all but ran up to her, concern on his face.

“You good Y/N?” He asked, his frown matching her own as he pulled his guitar up and over his head. “Was that guy bothering you?” Y/N could sense his hackles were raised.

Quickly she shook her head. “No no I'm fine!” She assured him. She reached beside her to hand him a water bottle. “He was asking me out to dinner after the show.” She explained to him.

“What did you say?”

Y/N was taken aback by the sudden sharpness in Kirk's voice. She punched his shoulder playfully in an attempt to lighten the mood. “Fuck no dude, there's greasy pizza calling our name after the show I wouldn't ditch you guys.” She grinned at his visible relief.

With a sigh he threw a sweaty arm over her shoulder. She faked a gag as she felt his damp skin against her bare shoulders, but she didn't push him off. “Good otherwise I was gonna have your fucking head dude.” He laughed lightly. All the tension that had been radiating off him had dissipated. “Tech guys are dicks anyways, don't date em’”

Y/N's eyes rolled to the side, a sunset pink dusting her cheeks. “Whatever Kirk don't you have a show to do in like, twenty minutes?” She sighed.

Suddenly his weight was lifted off of her. His hand came to rest at the top of her head. “Yeah, I do.” He paused, “Keep your eyes on me tonight Y/N, I have a feeling tonight's gonna be a good show.”

#metallica #metallica fanfiction #metallica/reader #jason newsted #jason newsted x reader #kirk hammett #kirk hammett x reader #jason newsted/reader #kirk hammett/reader #kirk hammett x jason newsted #kirk hammett/jason newsted

20 notes · View notes