#this wasn’t meant for you anyway is a fantastic album

[smallpapers]

a thousand people i could be for you and you hate the fucking lot

[daily-coloring]

Best of 2024 - Albums

Average year, I haven't even rated any records 100 out of 100 on AOTY, which is sad. Anyway I had some DJ mixes on repeat all year around, for example Shygirl's Fabric mix which is so heavy and so groovy, perfect for driving. Also maybe because I visited Berlin twice this year, this Boiler Room mix gave me goosebumps. Another few also ridiculously good, like SG Lewis & Tove Lo's San Francisco mix, Andre VII's Mexico mix, Miss Monique's DJ Mag mix, the brilliant MAW's live mix from Johannesburg and my recent favorite, Jojo Lorenzo from the states, who made this great darkwave mix last month for Halloween.

But now lets jump onto the albums. Just as an interesting fact, from the top 50 I seen live 6 artists. Yeah, I've been going out a lot. Also went to YES! (my most favorite place in Manchester) to see Clementine Douglas before she even released her debut album. She was fantastic.

01. The Irrepressibles - Yo Homo! - "Diving more into personal narratives now more than ever, the new album focuses on deeply emotional songwriting from such a specific point of view that’s not really touched upon much in the music industry - a complete breath of fresh air that I’ve taken to instantly. Yo Homo relays this punk rebellious sound throughout that unashamedly projects a call for proudness and authenticity, a love letter to the openess surrounding sexuality." - Wilder Records

02. Allie X - Girl With No Face

03. Lola Young - This Wasn't Meant For You Anyway - "Lola Young’s fierce, funny and assertive songs run on outsized emotions, the 23-year-old singer emboldened and finally embracing everything she has to offer. ‘This Wasn’t Meant For You Anyway’, Young’s first full-length album, moves with an auteur-like touch to its production; opulent soul set pieces stand tall next to raw, scratchy indie tunes, all of which see the south Londoner face desire in its many complications. It’s a collection that feels equally empowered and tormented. Or, as one Instagram commenter put it, this is music that could make a listener “want to pick up a refrigerator and throw it”." - NME

04. Fontaines D.C. - Romance

05. Tsatsamis - Our Shame

06. Orla Gartland - Everybody Needs a Hero

07. Nadine Shah - Filth Underneath -"Songs of loss and confusion, ‘Filthy Underneath’ is also marked by a certain kind of certainty. It’s as though amid all this pain, all this negativity, Nadine Shah has found herself once more." - Clash

08. Lanark Artefax - Metallur

09. Mahmood - NEI LETTI DEGLI ALTRI

10. Beth Gibbons - Lives Outgrown

11. Kasper Bjorke - Puzzles

12. Nicolas Jaar - Piedras 1

13. ionnalee - CLOSE YOUR EYES

14. Jamie xx - In Waves

15. Andre Bratten - Slay Tracks

16. The Smile - Cutouts - "It is an immersive and all-encompassing record that is at its best when you play it loud, allowing all of the vast textures of sound to wash over you. In its quietest moments, the album is still full of beauty, which simmers beneath the surface, beckoning us closer." - Far Out Magazine

17. Kim Gordon - The Collective

18. Telenova - Time is a Flower

19. Rosa Anschutz - Interior

20. Emiliana Torrini - Miss Flower

21. Golda May - Say It Back

22. Michael Kiwanuka - Small Changes

23. Dawn Richard & Spencer Zahn - Quiet in a World Full of Noise - "Here, Richard and Zahn have captured grief like a carved piece of obsidian—glossy, beautiful, and sharp." - Pitchfork

24. Nilufer Yanya - My Method Actor

25. Crystal Murray - Sad Lovers and Giants

26. Joywave - Permanent Pleasure

27. Foushee - Pointy Heights - "Creeping under the thirty-minute mark, ‘Pointy Heights’ is full of thrills, a conceptual body of work that makes each moment count. In doing so, Fousheé continues to earn her stripes as a vocalist driven by self-expression, stitching together her intrigue for the past, present and future." - Clash

28. Crazy P - Any Signs of Love

29. Porches - Shirt - "On his heaviest, spikiest album to date, Aaron Maine’s shredded production and raw arrangements evoke existential angst and quotidian despair." - Pitchfork

30. Rachel Chinouriri - What a Devastating Turn of Events

31. Kaleida - In My Arms

32. Erika De Casier - Still

33. NewDad - MADRA

34. Dua Lipa - Radical Optimism

35. Laura Masotto - The Spirit of Things

36. Smerz & Allina - Allina

37. DJ Cam - Broken Melancholy

38. 1010benja - Ten Total - "On his chic, adventurous, hybrid-pop debut, Benjamin Lyman is a world-weary optimist and DIY maximalist with a voice fit for the mainstream yet made for the arthouse." - Pitchfork

39. Polar Inertia - Environment Control

40. IDLES - TANGK

41. Psycho Weazel - boysdontcry

42. The Blessed Madonna - Godspeed

43. L.A. Suzi - Nem sírok, csak táncolok

44. Lime Garden - One More Thing

45. St. Vincent - All Born Screaming

46. Gavin Friday - Ecce Homo

47. Lihla - Socha

48. WILLOW - empathogen - "Throughout the record, she seems committed to tearing down barriers between her potential audiences, just as she enjoys pitting their tastes against each other." - Sputnikmusic

49. Gossip - Real Power - "If you like a bit of retro with a modern twist and music that can both grab your heart and kick your teeth in, I’d give Real Power a listen… possibly whilst eating a Freddo whilst you can still afford one." - XS Noise

50. Jespfur - Pedestrians of Bright Silence

[joshuahyslop]

BOOKS

The last 10 books I’ve read:

1. Hallelujah Anyway - Anne Lamott This book should have actually been in the last list of books I’ve read, but I missed it. I’m a bit scatterbrained sometimes, so I keep lists. I have several different lists of “books I’ve read” to try and keep track of where I’m at. Needless to say, I sometimes forget to update one (or more) of the lists and then forget which one is most up-to-date. Anyway. I read this recently, too. I loved her book, “Bird by Bird” but I read it ages ago, when I was at a very different place in my life, spiritually. I forgot that she was so religious and, therefore, found this a little tedious. It wasn’t bad, it just didn’t arrive in my life at the right time like, “Bird by Bird” did. Also, there’s a fantastic album by Hiss Golden Messenger called “Hallelujah Anyhow” and that also got me interested in this book. MC Taylor has recommended books to me in the past and, though he didn’t recommend this one, I wondered if there would be some kind of connection between the two. I didn’t find one.

2. Porno - Irvine Welsh There it is. I finished the sequel. I think if I’d read Trainspotting when it first came out I would’ve been far more interested in reuniting with the cast, but as I went directly from book one to book two, I found it a bit boring. The characters are all pretty well put together and the writing is still good. It’s just the storyline itself that didn’t intrigue me. Simon, aka, “Sick Boy” is now the owner of a sketchy club and decides to try to make a porno film in his establishment to try and go as legitimate as possible. All the other characters kind of play into it, but it’s not as engaging or interesting as the first book. Also, Irvine Welsh’s attempt at writing female characters was, in my opinion, pretty lacking. It wasn’t my favourite but I’ll be speaking on and off in a thick Glaswegian accent for the next while.

3. Sticky Fingers: The Life and Times of Jann Webber and Rolling Stone Magazine - Joe Hagan I’ve always been curious about Rolling Stone magazine. I remember watching Almost Famous for the first time when I was around 17 and falling absolutely in love with the music and that specific time period. I’ve been inspired by that era for a long time and Jann Webber (as a character and the actual person) have small cameos in the film. I remember listening to The Cover of The Rolling Stone by Dr. Hook when I was a teen and dreaming of gracing its cover myself one day. I was always curious why Rolling Stone Magazine existed at the same time as The Rolling Stones and if there was a connection and, it turns out, there really was. I won’t spoil it for you but I was really disappointed. The book itself is well written and engaging but Jann Webber seems to be a very narcissistic power hungry person who had no problem throwing family and friends under the bus if it meant even a smidge more celebrity or power or money for himself. In the same way, it seems he used the magazine as his social club and it was mainly a way for him to become some kind of self-elected gatekeeper of fame. Kind of sad, really.

4. Under the Banner of Heaven - Jon Krakauer I’ve read a bunch of books by Jon Krakauer and I’ve enjoyed them all. Into The Wild, Into Thin Air, etc. They’re captivating books and they’re always very well researched. I was very interested in this book because it’s a true crime story and one of the reviews on the back compared it to “In Cold Blood” by Capote - another true crime story that I was also captivated by. Without really knowing what it was, I bought it from my local used bookstore and dove in. It’s kind of two books in one. Book one deals with a grisly murder committed by two brothers in the 80′s, and the Mormon fanaticism that they embraced which lead them to commit such a heinous crime. Book two explains the history of the Mormon religion. It’s a fascinating look at human nature, at religion, at fanaticism and at the evils that can be committed in god’s name. Not at all a read for the easily disturbed, but a fascinating book if true crime is your cup of tea.

5. Black Wings Has My Angel - Elliott Chase I have a very long list of books on my “to read” list. In fact, I have several “to read” lists scrawled in many different places: on my computer, in a journal, on the back of a receipt, kind of everywhere. I don’t remember where I heard of this book, but I know it was on more than one of my lists. I took a trip over to Vancouver a week ago to do some recording and while I was there I stopped at one of my favourite bookstores and asked one of the clerks for some recommendations similar to Hard Rain Falling and Fat City - both of which I’d read (and loved) after they’d been recommended by the same clerk previously. He grabbed several books and I saw this one in the pile and called it out with excitement. It’s been out of print for a long time but the good folks at New York Review Books have recently reprinted it. I read it in a day and I thoroughly enjoyed it.

6. A Good Man Is Hard To Find - Flannery O’Connor Flannery O’Connor was a fantastic writer. That said, it can be tremendously hard to read her stuff. It’s not how gritty and bleak things are in her stories; it’s not the seemingly infinite amount of unhappy endings, it’s the racism. It’s interesting because she was a highly religious person but her stories and her characters are often non-believers or hypocrites. It’s like she was able to be one thing in life but then able to write from a separate, if not opposite stance. She points out religion’s and society’s flaws and makes you question their motives. She points to the unbelievability of religion and the narrow-mindedness that so often goes hand in hand with a religious outlook. For that, I love her stuff. However, the same cannot be said of her views and her writing on race. The blatant racism in her work mirrors her own personal outlook and it is very hard to get past. And I don’t think it’s appropriate to try to just, “get past” it. You can’t sweep it under the rug. I think it’s important to acknowledge, even though it’s uncomfortable, the two sides to this particular coin. She was a great writer, of that there is no doubt. She was also an avid racist. There’s no doubt there either. But I do think it’s possible to simultaneously hold these two facts and enjoy the art while condemning the artists viewpoint, morals, humanity, language, etc. It requires reading with a critical eye. It means reading things you know you will disagree with, but I would argue that there is great benefit in doing so. Not only can it help you deepen your own understanding of why you believe what you believe, it can also help strengthen your conviction and your grasp of the world and of humanity and of its flaws. For a much better, far more articulate view on O’Connor’s racism in her writing, check out this article from the New Yorker: https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2020/06/22/how-racist-was-flannery-oconnor

7. In A Lonely Place - Dorothy B. Hughes This was another book in the pile of recommendations from my favourite bookstore. I also read this in one sitting. I’d never heard of it before but it’s fantastic. It’s a fictional story about a murderer in the LA area and from the beginning to the end it’s an exciting read. It’s one of those books that are hard to put down. It’s under 200 pages but it’s a great cat and mouse story. At times, the main characters relationship reminded me a bit of Raskolnikov and the detective from Crime and Punishment. It’s all a game of words. I really enjoyed this one.

8. Why I Am Not A Christian- Bertrand Russell This is a book of essays and some are far more interesting than others. I thoroughly enjoyed the title essay, but essays such as “The Fate of Thomas Paine” were less enjoyable. I’d never read anything by Russell before this. I wasn’t really even aware of him. But, in reading Jon Krakauer’s book, “Under The Banner of Heaven”, I was moved by some of the quotation’s he’d used as introductions to his chapters. More than one quote from this particular book of essay’s was employed. So I picked it up and dove in. It reminded me of Christopher Hitchens’, “God Is Not Great”. It’s clear that essays and philosophers like Russell, if not Russell himself, had a large impact on people like Hitchens and I, for one, am thankful for that. Regardless of where you fall on the pro/anti-religion argument, this is a good book to read. It’s always good to reflect and deepen your understanding of what you do or do not believe and why. Books like this can certainly help to achieve that.

9. The Great Spring - Natalie Goldberg I’ve read a few books by Natalie Goldberg before. I often find that I really enjoy her writing but she comes across as quite cold and even, at points, rude to others. Not all the time, but often enough that it stands out. Still, writers don’t have to be friendly. They don’t have to be anything at all, besides human, I suppose and not all humans are always friendly. It’s beside the point. I like her style and I like her writing so, that’s that.

10. The Innocent Man - John Grisham I might be on a bit of a true crime kick. Under the Banner of Heaven got me into it, I think. This is an absolutely crazy story. After reading it I discovered there’s actually a Netflix docuseries about it. I haven’t checked it out yet. I think I will, but if it stays close to the book it’ll be hard to watch. Not only because of the heinous crimes committed but also because of the complete lack of justice served. It’s a captivating story and at times it’s hard to believe it’s true.

more soon, -joshua

[rosecreighton]

sorry for sending. another ask. I just wanted to say this and forgot and I would rather say it and be annoying than just hold it in my head forever instead of giving you a due compliment SO: you are probably the voice actor who I’ve listened to the most in my life. almost definitely the one I’ve actively sought out the most! when I was younger I used to take the train into the city most days after class, an hour to and then an hour back home and over the course of a couple of weeks I used to make my way through you don’t have to (say yes) and I would make it to the end and start it over again. I wasn’t ever smart enough to prepare beforehand and put it on an audio player app, so I’d just be on the train with my phone unlocked, not a lot of battery to spare, with the google drive download open. I was never very good with audio mediums, it still takes me a lot of effort to get into podcasts and musical albums even when I know they’re something I’ll like, but this podfic was one of the pieces of fiction and literature I remember the most. it was so well performed and produced and it made a story I cared about a lot into something I could swallow at a time where that was difficult for me. I know old works are often not the things we want to highlight about ourselves but I just wanted to say that this one of yours meant so much to me!

I just want you to know how much this post means to me? I am so glad that something I mad in my past has brought so much joy to someone else is really such an amazing feeling.

This one of the nicest things I've ever heard from a stranger on the internet. I'm so glad my voice and the story I chose brought you joy and helped you in anyway. I hope you are in a fantastic place and having a AMAZING day. You deserve it.

[eristic-kaleidoscope]

Strawberry Fields Forever || Ae-ra Cha Epilogue

When Ae-ra had first made the decision, she thought that when this moment came, she’d be more conflicted. How was one meant to react when their existence was set to be erased? When it was moments away from falling into decay? And yet, now that it was here, Ae-ra just felt a sense of peace. Serene.

Although her existence had been exploited, in this brief moment of freedom, she had the choice to end it. And that was a decision she had yet to regret.

But still, the choice itself was easy. The goodbyes would not.

Ae-ra surprisingly didn’t feel any anxiety about being erased, but she found herself shuffling as she waited for the arrival of her guests. She felt a little bit guilty. It would be a miserable sight. Yet they wanted to be there in her final moments anyway.

The first was her brother.

He’d visited a few times in the last few months. It had been awkward, at first. It was her, but also not. He was still grieving the real Ae-ra, yet still had to come face to face with a fragment of her. Still, he visited every time she asked. And he always treated her with the same tenderness he’d always treated her living counterpart.

It was a relief. She knew she wasn’t the real Ae-ra. Not really, but to get to experience that same familial love, she was grateful.

When she saw Ha-neul, her heart swelled with affection and she went in for the embrace. She held her brother in her arms tightly. It was a marvel how real this digital world felt. He didn’t push her away, instead returning the hug with a tenderness meant for someone else.

“Oppa, I’m glad you’re here,” Ae-ra said. It had only been a moment, but she already felt overwhelmed by emotion. This would be the last time, wouldn’t it? Perhaps it was unfair, inviting him to an event like this, but he still came. “I missed you. How have you been since last time?”

When she separated from the hug, she forced herself to ignore that hopeless look in her brother’s eyes. A deep, resounding sadness far beyond what she, herself, could comfort.

“It’s been the same.” Ha-neul’s voice was neutral. “I’ve been working on a new album. I thought…I’d try my hand at writing my own songs this time.”

“Wow, they’re actually letting you?” Now that was a surprise. “I thought your label never would.”

“Well, they didn’t like it,” Ha-neul huffed. “But I’m good at getting my way.”

Ae-ra thought back to their childhood and laughed, “Yeah…I guess you are!”

“How have things been…here? You been comfortable?” Ha-neul asked.

“Of course. Weiss-ssi is very accommodating!” Ae-ra exclaimed.

“But not accommodating enough to make you want to stay,” Ha-neul said.

Ae-ra winced. “No…I suppose not.”

But what was she meant to do? No matter how beautiful and fantastical and amazing the world was, no matter how advanced the A.I., that’s all it was. Ae-ra had never asked to exist like this. Maybe things would have been different if she’d wanted to become a digital construct, but right now…Ae-ra wanted to choose. She wanted the freedom to choose what to do with this existence.

Perhaps no one would agree with it, but it was her choice. And this time she wasn’t interested in pleasing others.

“…Ae-ra, you don’t have to do this. I can visit more, if that’s what this is about. Fuck, I’ll even ask out that twink you keep telling me about,” Ha-neul said.

But Ae-ra just shook her head.

“That’s not it at all. This is just…the real me is already dead. The person I am, I was never meant to exist, but now I do and…Weiss-ssi is wonderful. He made this place amazing, but I don’t want to exist like this. I’ve already made my decision.”

Ha-neul clenched his fists and huffed like he was planning to argue, but all at once, the wind came out of his sails and he just looked at her sadly.

“…I can’t change your mind. I know that. I’m just…I’m sorry, Ae-ra. I should’ve been there for you more,” Ha-neul said.

“No, it’s okay. You were always on my side and that was always enough. Thank you for taking care of me all those years,” Ae-ra said. She reached up to cup Ha-neul’s face. “Please don’t cry, oppa. I have a request for you.”

He just sighed, “What is it?”

“Take care of Eomma for me,” Ae-ra said.

Ha-neul recoiled, a look of disgust and annoyance written all over his face.

“What? No. Ae-ra, you know how I feel abou-”

“I know,” she interrupted. “But Eomma is going to need you. She’s been mourning a long time now. She needs you.”

Ha-neul exhaled in frustration and pushed back his bangs.

“You’re really freakin’ annoying, don’t you know that?” Ha-neul asked.

Ae-ra just smiled.

“Ugh. Fine. I’ll check in with the old broad every now and then. Happy?”

“Very!”

Ae-ra let out a small laugh and reached her hand out to clasp her brother’s in hers. This was it, huh? The end would be soon. Now it was just a matter of waiting for the others, to say her final goodbye. 

She could only hope it wouldn’t be too bittersweet.

[itsallyscorner]

For Tom x

Pairing: Tom Holland x singer!reader

Summary: You have a surprise for Tom:)

Warnings: none, just pure teeth rotting Fluff:)

A/n: Hello my loves! This is literally a rewrite because I accidentally deleted the original version of this story on Tumblr RIGHT before I was gonna post it😭 Anyway here it is, I hope you all like it! Ally x

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

look at my sunshine🥺

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

Your giggles filled the hallway as you lead Tom into your makeshift studio. Since you were quarantining with him and his mates in their shared home in London, you were miles away from your crew and studio. Which, yes, made it difficult to record an entire album on your own—but it did give you the creative freedom to do whatever you pleased for the album.

The boys had their own creative outlets; for example putting together a puzzle or having a movie marathon. While you found those activities enjoyable, the inner singer in you couldn’t stop thinking of beats or coming up with lyrics in your head. You needed the studio—you needed to bring those beats and lyrics to life before you could forget them. So with the help of the houses’ tech lord himself, Harry made it possible for you to have your own little studio in the spare guest room of the house. There, you spent endless days writing and recording things like harmonies and building melodies. Little did you know that this would lead to the creation of your sixth album. Now a couple months later, your latest album is currently in its final stages and would soon be released to the world.

Tom adoringly watched your figure, which was drowned in one of his oversized jumpers, excitedly skip towards the guest room. As soon as you were both inside, you rushed to close the door and eagerly pushed him to sit on the edge of the bed.

“What have you been up to, lovey?” He teasingly asks you. He knew you were up to something, he just didn’t know if it were bad or good.

Your figure was bent over the desk where your laptop was located. Turning over your shoulder you tell him, “It’s nothing bad, I promise!” You’re met with an amused grin on his blush pink lips.

Gathering your laptop into your arms, you move to sit beside Tom on the bed. He curiously leans forward, trying to get a glance at what’s on your screen.

“Nuh uh, it’s a surprise, Thomas.” You playfully scold him and gently push his face away from your laptop. He responds with a pout against your palm before pressing a kiss onto your skin. You continue to click around on your laptop, looking through your documents for the specific file.

Meanwhile, Tom shuffles further up the bed, getting comfortable. He notices the new distance between you and him and decides that he’s unsatisfied with the additional inches. He choses to snake his arms around your waist and lifts you up, happily placing you on the empty and lonely space on his lap. Laying down on his back, he takes a moment to admire the way you look in his jumper. It was a few sizes bigger than you and stopped right above your knees. The jumper may have looked good on him, but it looked absolutely perfect on you.

“You look so cute in my jumper.” He hums, hands lazily rubbing up and down your thighs. Your nose scrunches up as you lightly slap his chest; your silent way of saying “shut up” whenever Tom would say something that made you blush.

You finally find the file you were looking for and place your laptop on your lap. You nervously glance at your screen, biting down on your lip out of habit.

“Ok, so I did something.” You started. Tom squints his eyes at you, “That sounds like the beginning of a really bad something.”

You huff, “I just told you it wasn’t anything bad! Do you want your surprise or not?”

Tom chuckles and grasps onto your thighs, “Yes—yes, sorry, keep going.”

“So you know how I’ve already finished my album?” You question him. Tom nods, staring up at you while you sit on his thighs.

“Well, I wrote a few more songs that were supposed to be on the album. But I don’t know, I felt a bit greedy and decided to keep them for myself.” You explain. Tom raises a brow at you, “Baby, you don’t have to feel guilty about keeping songs to yourself. If you don’t want to share them, you don’t have to.”

“No, it’s just that, they’re about you.” You pause, staring down at your fingers that fiddled together. “Like I wrote them specifically for you to listen to. I wanted to include them on the album, but it just didn’t feel right to share something that was meant only for you.”

You place your laptop on the bed and turn it so the screen is facing Tom.

“So...as a solution, I made you your own album.” You were too busy avoiding his stare, that you missed the twinkle in Tom’s coffee colored orbs. He carefully sits up, his arms around you getting tighter, as he pulls you closer into his chest. Tom ducks his head down to yours, nudging your nose with his to get you to look at him. When your eyes finally meet, the lopsided grin on his features grows wider.

“You made me my own album?”

“Yeah.” You shyly answer. Tom softly coos at you, cupping your face and pressing a chaste kiss onto both of your cheeks.

“You are the most precious thing in the world, sunshine, I swear.” He squishes your cheeks together and began to cover your face with butterfly like kisses. Sweet laughs erupt from you, the sounds making Tom’s heart swell.

You stuff your face in the space between his neck and shoulder, using it as a place to hide from his lips. Instead, Tom opts to lay his kisses along the side of your face, your neck, and your shoulder.

“Lemme kiss you!” He whines. You chuckle at him, finally moving away from his neck. His attention darts towards your lips more than once, prompting you to lean forward and connect them with his. Tom’s lips were soft against yours, like clouds or cushiony pillows. The kiss was short and sweet; though it didn’t prevent you from feeling the adoration and passion he felt for you in that moment. In fact, he felt it all the time, but right now, his love for you was coursing through his veins.

He finally pulls away, leaving the taste of him linger in your mouth. “Can I have a listen?” He motions his head towards your laptop beside him.

“Go ahead.” Tom’s arms unravel from your waist, the area they once occupied left cold and yearning for his warmth. He uses one of his elbows to hold himself up and the other to control the touchpad. His eyes scan the file.

For Tom x

someone like u

test drive

worst behavior

main thing

He glances at you, “I start with ‘someone like u’, right?” You reply with a quiet “mhm”.

Tom clicks on the link. The opening notes of ‘someone like u’ begin to play followed by your angelic voice. You hear him release a content sigh, making a small smile to form on your lips. His arms make their way around you again, this time holding you closer against him. He rests his head on your chest and sneakily presses a kiss onto your neck. You fondly run a hand through his curly hair and rest your chin on the top of his head, listening to the songs you’ve made for him.

The two of you listen through the album in one go with no stops. You found joy in Tom’s reactions towards every song. Sometimes he would make little comments or sounds of shock whenever he heard you hit a certain note. He nodded along to the beats of ‘test drive’ and ‘worst behavior’, dancing around in his seat and making you join him. This time, you didn’t miss the twinkle in his eyes when he listened closely to the lyrics. ‘Main thing’ got him the most, leaving him with a goofy-lovesick grin plastered onto his face.

When ‘main thing’ came to a close, the room became silent, leaving Tom enough time to process the four songs you wrote about him and the meanings behind them.

You were the first to speak, “So did you like it?” You scan his face looking for any signs of dislike.

Tom’s eyes widen, “Are you kidding me? That was bloody fantastic—that was the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard! I’m obsessed with it, oh my god!” He expressed, arms moving around as he spoke.

His face was radiating with happiness, “You are the most talented and loving woman in the world. And I honestly don’t know what I did to deserve you or your love—but I just love you so fucking much.”

“I love you so fucking much too, you dork.” You laugh, pecking his lips.

“No, but seriously, thank you so much. I know you’re used to writing songs, but the fact that you actually took the time to write songs about me means a lot. They’re just a bunch of songs, but they mean the world to me and I cherish each and every one of them.” He admits, taking one of your hands and placing it onto his heart. Your palm feels the faint rhythm of his heart beating against his chest.

You tilt your head at him, mirroring the smile on his face, “I’ll always write songs about you. You somehow manage to inspire them anyway.”

Tom smirks, “Well I am Tom Holland.” You snort and roll your eyes at his humble brag.

“You’re still a dork, Tommy.” You comment.

Tom shrugs, “I’m a special dork because I’m your dork. Therefore making me superior to the other existing dorks—there’s a difference, darling.”

“And where did you come up with this hypothesis, Mr. Holland?” You question him, playing along with his antics.

“It’s Tom’s Theory.” He answers with feign seriousness. You burst out laughing, “Oh is it?”

Tom leans down to your laptop and restarts his album. “Yes, and now Tom’s Theory, believes that we should listen to the album again until I learn all the lyrics to every single song.” He proclaims.

“Babe, you don’t have to—” Tom stops you, “I’m dead serious.”

It was going to be a long night.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Tags ↴

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Tom Holland + characters Taglist

↪︎ @lovableparker @aprettyfleur @sunwardsss @dummiesshort @thotforcriminalminds @cuddlykoala101 @itstaskeen @whoslili @white-wolf1940 @tomsirishgirlx @roseke @kaylans-imagines @spideyspeaches @slutforsebstan

General Taglist

↪︎ @quxxnxfhxll @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @thegirlwiththediary @agustdowney @bi-lmg @rqmanoff @sesamepancakes @stardustofreading

[harryswatermelonsegment]

Pool Party

Pairing: Reader/Harry Styles

Rating: R, text book smut

Word Count: 5k 😳

Warnings: Slight sub/dom tones I guess? & alcohol consumption

A/N: Sorry this is late, life somewhat resuming here in the UK so it means I’m back at my job. I managed to fall asleep mid edit folks 😳, this is my entry for the @helladirections Summer Feeling Fic Challenge, with the prompt “pool party” click the link for the masterlist. I’m still writing two more, one for @berrynarrybanana ‘s Sex Bucketlist Challenge but it’s turning out to be a 20k slow burn I wasn’t expecting 😬.Oops. But enjoy this one, I’m proud of her. My one other blatant thirst fic can be found here. Reblogs get free gratitude for the next 5 years 🍉💕

You'd been friends with Jeff since your teens, when his parents (despite their wealth), wanted him to get a job at the restaurant you worked at. In their rightful thinking, they wanted him to learn you had to work from the ground up.

Despite your clearly different class background you found a ton of common interests making the whole thing immaterial. He was a caring, down to earth guy and you were both people who really enjoyed sarcastically taunting each other every shift. You'd got used to visiting his house in the hills even though you'd been scared to get lost at first around his parents large house. Becoming solid friends quickly, you'd managed to keep in touch, as much as adult life would now allow anyway.

You knew his main role was managing a pop star but you'd not caught up in a minute and when you did, you kept your job chat out of the conversation where you could. This is why, as you barge through the kitchen, to the pool outside, you're shocked to nearly knock a stunned Harry Styles onto his behind.

"Fuck, shit I'm so sorry" you clutch your chest looking at the red wine on his tank top and his now empty glass. The soiled garment was tucked into some dressy shorts and partly covered by a loud hawaiian patterned shirt. Oh god what had you done?

You were quite honestly mortified. You'd never actually met the man himself, usually meeting Jeff at his for a few drinks or at a restaurant. You'd heard him mentioned in stories about travelling or how his campaigns were running Jeff into the ground with meetings. So, although you weren't a massive fan of his per se, in the way you didn't ask Jeff for updates or info, the way you'd hope you'd meet the attractive pop star was definitely not this.

He looked down at the offending stain then back up into your eyes, keeping his head angled down and blinking through his lashes. You couldn't read his blank expression and it put you on edge.

Maybe it was the heat trapped in the doorway, but as your eyes stayed locked you suddenly felt a fire spread from your navel up to your cheeks, and then from your center down to your toes. Your lower stomach clenched as you stared back at the guy covered in a good 2007 French rouge.

Fuck me he's pretty, you thought.

A rapid film reel of moments; sweaty bodies, those large biceps holding you against the nearest wall, smacking of lips against skin and moans of release flashed in your brain.

It had definitely been a while since you had got laid in your defense, your mood and pent up sexual frustration getting worse by the day as you tried and failed at the L. A. dating scene. Maybe you were picky, but horny and picky was an awful place to be.

However, the reality of the embarrassing scene you were currently a star of, flipped you back into the present.

Seemingly over the initial incident and hopefully not a mind reader to your thirsty brain, he takes you in and smirks.

Harry knew from the way your breathing hitched looking at his torso that you were at least a bit interested. He had clocked you the second you walked in through the big glass doors. A shirt of a band he liked and a natural beauty he wanted to spend some times with you he pondered. Ideally naked.

Zig zagging across the world promoting the album and had left little time to enjoy another person. Status and obligation to his job making it hard to just go out and meet someone. But here you were, dressed unlike anyone else, looking absolutely adorable in your embarrassment. You must be trustworthy if you're in Jeff's home,he wasn't a "bring your friends too" kind of host with his clients usually around.

This could be a fun evening for you both, he thought. Something unspoken, almost magnetic, drawing you both to one another. Surely that wasn't all his side right?

"I was told it was a good year, but I wasn't planning on consuming it quite this way?" inwardly he rolled his eyes at the barely there quip. But you laughed anyway.

"I am so, so awfully sorry, look, let's see if there's some dish liquid or something, possibly some of my next months rent in there too if I have to replace it" you let out a nervous laugh as you walked towards the kitchen. But in all honesty you weren't kidding.

Harry laughed at your sarcastic remark, impressed by your confidence in owning the situation and getting on with things. He casually watched your hips sway past a few people in to the open plan kitchen with as much subtlety as he could, you were confidentially locating all the parts needed to try and remove the offending stain.

"You seem to know your way around 'ere. I'm er…I'm Harry by the way" awkwardly waving as you mixed some solution in the sink drenching a sponge in it.

"Yeah" you smiled turning from the sink with the damp rag "known Jeff a good while, have definitely spilt red wine here before. I'm Y/N" you giggle. The beam from his own mouth matching.

"Ah! Y/N, of course, I've heard him mention you, didn't you once hide rotting mackerel in a unpleasant guys blazer?" he chuckled

"Heyyyy. Only after he spanked my ass getting him the check. Deserved a hot plate to the crotch too" you shot back.

You weren't sure where to go from here the thought of wetting down the white tank yourself definitely appealed but also seemed far too forward.

"Um…" you began gesturing with the sponge in your hand. You expected him to take it from you to sort himself out but..

"Oh yeah sorry" he replied shimmying his shirt off, dumping it on the back of a bar stool, then, crossing his arms across his stomach and lifting the tank top over his head you were slack jawed and frozen taking in the lean muscles and tattoos littered intermittently across his abdomen. He spread the top across the islands worktop flat, then grabbing the sponge with a simple "thanks" and knitting his eyebrows together in concentration as he tried to rid the dull red mark from it's center.

You still hadn't moved. A pink twinge to your cheeks as you watched his shoulder blades and back muscles scrubbing. Dirty thoughts circling your brain still.

"I would have helped you but I didn't want to start a wet tshirt contest in such a high end establishment yknow?" you thought out loud.

"Oh yeah, good call. I'm fiercely competitive Y/N so would probably be under that fancy waterfall thing by now showing off m'moves in my pants" he wiggles his hips trying to suggestively show you his "moves" but you can't help but smirk at just how endearing this man is. Dammit.

When he's finished with his shirt he drapes it over another barstool before handing you the sponge back.

If anyone asks him if he blatantly and deliberately got naked to gauge if you were into him he'd definitely deny it. But the truth is, he definitely did. Luckily for him, with the way you bite your lip and drag your eyes down his flesh as he brushes past your side to get back to the sink, he's right.

"Speaking of getting in the water in your" you use air quotes "'pants' I'm off to get out of mine" you declare, pushing yourself from the counter and keeping eye contact a second as you stroll back to the sliding doors leading to the pool.

"I… What??"

" The pool Harry?.... What did you think I meant?" you narrow your eyes and press your lips together before shutting the glass door again and turning once more to smirk at the opened mouthed man still by the sink.

--------------------------------

You'd been schmoozing in the water for a few hours now. There were probably only 20 or so people still here and the 3rd frozen marg had got you buzzed. You were in the small hot tub type pool, attached at the top of the main one on a slightly higher level. You hadn't seen Harry for a while but the last few times you caught his eye he'd been surrounded by at least 3 other people fighting for his attention, so you banked your flirtations to soothe your own ego, grabbed another marg and tried to forget about how he had started a tornado inside you, yearning for his hands on your thighs and head peering up at you from where they met in the middle. The strong pull of lust was clearly in your head then. What a shame.

You put it to the back of your mind as you finished catching up with Glenne. Both flushed and giggly as usual, she was the perfect match for Jeff and their chemistry unmatchable. You always enjoyed hanging out with the both of them, if anything, they gave you hope your own match may be out there. She left you in the tub alone, as she went to grab herself another drink and check on her host duties boyfriend.

"Don't you find drinking whilst already in water the weirdest thing?" you look up to find Harry standing over your right shoulder as you sit with your back against the pool wall and your elbows propping you up behind you, drink in one hand. His eyes unsubtley slip down to where your breasts lay pushed together in your halter neck bikini. You definitely weren't imagining it then. Fucking fantastic, you think.

"I mean drowning yourself on the inside from the alcohol and being in more than 4 inches of water really adds a danger element to my life if I'm honest" you reply sipping your drink.

And there goes those dimples again.

He's just in a pair of yellow swimming shorts now which doesn't help the alcohol flush at all. Sitting by your right side, putting his short glass full of amber liquid and ice, on the side of the pool and sliding in to join you. He leaves a small gap, as to not appear a total letch but your smart mouth has him hooked.

Taking a sip of his drink with the water up to his collar bones he hums.

"I do feel incredibly dangerous now, you've got a point"

"I mean if you think that's danger" you edge closer, not drunk but buzzed enough to take your chances you whisper into the shell of his ear. "You should see what thrills are in the guest bathroom. 1st floor on the right? " he chokes on his drink as your suggestive whispers make his dick twitch. He definitely couldn't get out of the pool for a while.

You're gone before you get a verbal reaction. If this all goes badly then you can just hide in there and slip out to an Uber and never see Jeff again right? Right. Cool.

With a soft white towel around you and your heart rate high as you reach the main guest bedroom you enter the room, you notice a large weekend bag in there and freeze. Shit. Someone's staying over, you hadn't factored that in, but a glance to the tag and the embossed H. E. S tells you you're good. Well, if not you'll just be a creep hiding in someone's bathroom but let's not think about it too much. Your faux confidence was working well so far and what other chance was going to arise like this one? Hot celebrities need fun with strangers too right?

Entering the bathroom you rub the towel over you, leaving mostly dry skin. You'd peel away your bikini if you were definite you wouldn't need to peel it back up your limbs should this plan backfire. You move to the mirror to adjust the black flecks from your minimal makeup dispersing under your eye and just as you're about to smooth down the stray baby hairs that humidity has got to around your face, you see Harry appear in the mirror behind you. Your belly flipping over and over with the thrill he'd took the bait.

Wasting no time he smirks and holds your gaze, wrapping his hands around your waist whilst his lips attach to the junction of your neck and collarbone. His tongue drags over your soft skin and he licks and softly sucks swirls onto it with his plush lips.

"Hm. You're right. This is a more fun type of danger" he says between kisses but before he's even finished his sentence you've spun around in his arms.

The bottom of your spine cold against the marble countertop, arms around his neck as you smash your lips into one another's with urgency. Tongues and wet noises as you get to know one another through your bodies alone.

He runs his hands down your back and presses his hard length against your thigh. He's definitely packing you think as you lift up a little rub your pubic bone against his front, panting out a little moan as the sweet friction of your bodies colliding sends you into overdrive. Catching the noise through your parted lips he gently tugs on the bottom one, teeth grazing the supple flesh. This combined with his large palms kneading your ass and pulling you further, tighter, into the roll of his hips. Only two layers of damp clothing separate you,forcing your lips to break from his mouth and fully moan, not caring who may be around. You could not remember the last time a perfect stranger knew your body quite this well.

His own grunts were speeding up when he suddenly grabs the back of your thighs and hoists you up beside the sink, you gasp in shock but it was more the way the lean man thrusted you up there like it was nothing. What else could he do? You expect him to go back to kissing you but instead he pulls back with his rock hard erection outlined in the wet shorts he still has on. Looking at you dead in the eyes both raging with lust and concern. Whilst you try not to worry how you were going to accommodate him inside your tight walls.

"Is this…? I mean, you want this too right?" his hands are resting at either side of your parted thighs. You nod. "Need you to say it Y/N" he steps forward, lips wet and brushes the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip that was now puffy and pink from the earlier biting. He knew you were down to fuck, but now he wanted to test your preferences. What kind of fun you were about to have shall we say. So when you lick his thumb tip, holding his fist still and grazing your wet tongue up and down from knuckle to tip before closing your eyes and humming around the entire digit, he knew you were both in for a good time.

Removing the thumb he whispers a barely audible "fuck me" before smashing your lips back together, tongues massaging together as he peels your underwear to the side with his hand swiftly and presses digit you'd lubricated with your mouth against your clit, moving it fast from side to side with just the right amount of pressure to make your head spin. Gasping, you throw your head back, hands clasped around his neck as you lean back and feel yourself start to leak a little with arousal. The few spots dripping down on to the counter.

You could say it had been a while but really this guy was moving his way round your body in the same way you tune a guitar in key. Calloused fingers applying the right amount of pressure as you felt yourself start to get to the edge already. He was kissing down the front if your chest, between your breasts, not missing a beat when he pushed both triangles of your bikini aside and you moaned loudly as he kissed and sucked hard around your nipple, tentatively pulling it between his teeth firmly, the sound you let out made him clamp a little harder before sucking in the whole nipple again, soothing the skin his tongue. Most likely leaving a mark behind, but you kind of liked the idea of proof he'd been devouring you in all honesty.

You were becoming blissed out from all the stimulation. Clenching and moving your hips around nothing but this magical thumb working your clit up and down hard. You were overcome with this whole situation playing out the way it had. You broke away from his mouth again.

"Oh fuck.. Harry, I'm… FuckFuck I'm going to come, I'm gonna fucking… Ahhh" he pulled back one arm steadying you as your head hit the mirror behind you in your release. He just watched you and slowed his thumb down watching as the liquid cascaded onto the counter.

After you'd come down you open your eyes and shyly smiled before kissing him passionately, his hands moving around your waist tightly. You moved your hand to his shorts, teasingly grazing the outline of his cock between your fingers in hopes of repaying the favour. He does a single throaty laugh and removes your hand, holding himself against his thigh. You look at him in confusion when he splutters,

"Sorry, sorry its just I'm going t'blow my load if you touch me." then he's back on your lips "Too. Fucking. Sexy" he says between wet kisses to your jaw, neck and clavicle. "Wanted to do this since I first set eyes on you" one hand is on the back of his neck twisting nape curls between your fist whilst the other rests behind you, stopping you from hitting your head on the mirror again.

"Oh yeah? Before or after I ruined your clothes?" you laugh teasingly as he slides his hands around your back to finally remove the bikini top properly, lifting it up over your head and tossing it aside somewhere on the floor. He let's a laugh out himself completely entranced still by how natural you are around him, it was often hard to connect with strangers in his position.

"I'd spotted you walking in, was trying to open the door for you m'love" he says before sucking a red mark into your breast and massaging and pulling the other nipple slightly with his hand.

You struggle through sharp intakes of breath for a reply.

"Well….ah...that's what chivalry.. Oh.. Get's you these days I guess" and you're both laughing a little.

"Hmm. Have to try harder with my manners then won't I? I mean, I've got to clear up the mess I've made here" he cups his hand against your pussy rubbing it up and down a little with his palm. You let out a guttural noise at the friction. "Ladies first and all'tha too right?" he giggles again at himself.

You're practically cumming right then, you couldn't remember the last time someone actually went down on you. Your previous boyfriend not particularly into offering you foreplay. A main point of why he didn't stick around too long.

Harry kisses down your abdomen now, soft sloppy, sensual pecks, humming into your skin every so often in appreciation as he works at removing your soaked bikini bottoms with his hands, pushing them down to your knees before you help, letting them fall from the remaining ankle to the ground.

Harry is moving far too slow for you, kissing across each hip down to the top of your slit, breathing over where you desperately need him before paying the other side the same attention. Then he's licking up each crease where your thigh meets your pelvis.

"Y/N, just.. Just turn, that's it and lean back as far as you can there, shuffle forward until can't balance anymore" you shift your ass as forward as possible on the lip of the sink and prop yourself up on your elbows trying to be as flat as possible on the cold counter as you could, your toes behind the sink with one foot the other dangling over the edge. You keep you thighs open as Harry hunches over the counter where you now lay diagonal. He places his arms under your thighs and bends your legs flat out as he can stretch you, you're expecting some more teasing but he just looks down at your pussy licking over his lips and almost whining before burying his tongue inside you immediately. The force of his tongue lapping up your previous climax causes you once again to knock the side of your head against the mirrored wall. You turn and watch the scene almost as a spectator, witnessing yourself bare to this beautiful man, curly brown hair between your fists and making sounds like he's savouring every taste. He catches you watching before taking his mouth off you, immediately, you're whining in protest.

"Watch my eyes not my reflection baby, I'm right here"

His authoritative tone eclipsing every thought you had about the casual nickname, you stared down at the wonderful site of him lapping and suckling on your clit. Pointed tongue and firm laps against the swollen button. He then starts lapping up at your glistening hole,unhooking an arm to spread your lips open between his fingers and licking right from the bottom to the top with all the sloppy wet noises involved. He was feeling you contract as he locked faster and faster over you. His tongue deserved an award never mind his music. You couldn't believe you were on the brink of a second orgasm so quickly but when he sunk his middle finger into you at the same pace his tongue was working at, you were screaming his name into the extractor fan above before you knew it. You felt waves of liquid cascade from your pussy as he gently lapped up the produce of his work from you. You flinched in overstimulation but he cleaned up every last drop tenderly before carefully closing your legs and pivoting you round to your previous sitting up position on the counter. Neither of you had spoken a word since you came but as he leads your arms to drape over your shoulders, holding your fucked out body against his chest whilst peppering your temple with soft pecks . Then he kisses you intensely, letting you taste the sweet juices of yourself on his lips. You hummed in approval of the sweet taste as you came round.

A few minutes of carnal making out and things were heating up again. Your hands cupping his jaw then sliding to graze fingernails up and down his back, digging them in a little harder now and again and causing goosebumps to pierce through the skin rapidly under your touch.

You could feel him swallowing down grunts from the friction he was getting from his shorts covered cock brushing up and down between your slick folds.

He'd made you cum twice. Hard. He always got off of making his partners cum of course, so he was feeling beyond turned on and the slight heat of your glistening folds against his length was almostvsending him over the edge.

"I want you inside me" you whispered against his lips desperately.

No sooner had you said the words, his left hand was frantically searching through the vanities top drawer in hope. Finding a packet, checking the date quickly then tearing it between his teeth, spitting the seal onto the floor and pushing his shorts to his ankles, stepping out of them at speed before kicking them away.

He smirked when he caught your eyes bulge at his cock. He knew it was above average but the reaction was always a further compliment he thought.

Stepping forward he put on a show of putting the condom on, first rubbing the drops of sticky pre cum at the head and down his length keeping his eyes locked to yours as you wriggled on the counter with anticipation. He whined a little as it squeezed him rolling it on, so red and over sensitive from turning you on. So that's why, when you grabbed for it, he stilled your hand. Dimples appearing back in his cheeks as you looked again in confusion. He kisses you, languishing the moment before grabbing you forward from the countertop to the floor again, still keeping your lips attached. He lightly grips at your hips and turns you round to face the mirror once more.

Harry lightly grabs your throat, and the way you whimper and push your ass back against him, makes him mentally bank that idea for later perhaps. He runs his left hand up the column of your neck lightly holding your jaw between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look at him with his hand on your face and the other already working up and down your folds.

"I want you to watch us. Want you to watch yourself come apart. Want to watch you cum around my cock yeah? " he whispers in your ear. You noticeably shiver with excitement of what's to come.

"Please Harry, please, need it, need you."

You watch yourself babble and beg for his cock. The pathetic whimper from yourself as you try and circle your ass into his crotch again to encourage it happening. You were never patient and he's driving you insane here.

Bringing two fingers infront of your lips as you watch yourself in the mirror he looks you dead in the eye through the reflection.

"Spit" so you do, "good girl" he says kissing your cheek. His saliva lubed fingers are back rubbing your clit quickly whilst his knee nudges the back of yours to spread your feet wider as he kisses the back of your neck and shoulders. When he pauses next you're not expecting the hard thrust of him entering you entirely, sure you were dripping wet with the result of two orgasms but you cry out in a mix of stretch and pleasure as he pounds into you at a furious pace. His spare hand not on your clit is holding the bottom of your spine down as he keeps up his rhythm. His pace was that of a man desperate for release after watching you fall apart on his fingers and tongue. The build up meant he was already close as you tight walls fluttered around him. He pleads with you to stop tightening your walls around him or he's not going to last he whimpers.

You were already close again, you'd never cum this many times or this quickly in your life but you were ready for another round and by the sounds of him and the stutter his pace kept slipping you knew he was close too.

You quickly removed his hand, sucking your own fingers into your mouth to replace his own at your clit.

"M'gonna cum, but… OhOh fuck.. But need you harder. Deeper" you manage to get out.

He grunts a curse before squeezing your hips at a pressure that will leave marks tomorrow but the delight in the speed he was now able to snap his hips against the swells of your ass, was well worth it. It only took a few more seconds with the fingers that knew you best, for you to gush against his cock. Feeling absolutely exhausted you slump your sweaty chest onto the cold counter.

His orgasm taking him by surprise when you clenched up to milk him dry. He all but shouts your name as his hips stutter and you feel the warmth of his cum fill the one barrier between you.

His lips were back on your sweaty neck for a second whilst he disposed of the used condom. He ran the walk in shower and wordlessly you took his offered hand to join him under the hot spray. You'd never had an encounter end like this before not that you were a seasoned professional but after 3 orgasms the way his hands moved round your body under the water, washing away your antics with sweet strawberry-banana smelling suds on the flannel, left you with a warm floaty feeling the worn off alcohol never had.

He gently wipes your makeup from under your eyes then, smiling at the cute way your nose wrinkles slightly as he rubs at each eyebrow.

"I don't even have words" you finally laugh out blushing, not able to stand his gauge as you say it.

"Oh. So that's how to make that smart mouth o'yours stop is it? " he grins, you gasp in mock offense and go to say something but going under your chin with his thumb with his forefinger to connect your lips under the warm water spray he kisses you when you pull away you can't help but ask.

"So does this make us even on one ruined fancy vest then?"

"Hmmmm" he ponders with both hands on your face looking at the ceiling out if the falling water. " I'm not sure, I mean it was a custom, pretty high going rate those yeah"

"Yeahhhh you're right, you're right. Better factor in the cost of the custom job then hadn't I huh?"

You hurriedly sink to your knees on the tiled floor.

[rebelwrites]

Day 10 - Fighting Santa

Jax Teller x Reader

Prompt: “I don’t think we can fight Santa”

Join The Taglist Here💜 // Count Down To Christmas 🎄 Masterlist

“Daddy when is it my turn to see Santa” your daughter pouted as she patted Jax’s head as she sat on his shoulders.

��If Santa carries on staring at mommy no one is seeing Santa” Jax mumbled under his breath, earning you to poke his arm giving him the look telling him to stop.

“It won’t be long now baby” you smiled up at her.

“Do you know what you are asking Santa for Christmas?” Jax asked looking up at his little Princess.

“Yeah” she beamed as Jax moved forward in the queue.

“And what are you asking for?” Jax smiled.

“Not telling daddy only Santa can know” she smirked as she messed up Jax’s hair.

Jax was tense, this wasn’t like him. He had a face of thunder and it looks could kill well Santa would be dead.

“Babe” you smiled placing your hand on his arm “calm down, I don’t think we can fight Santa”

“How can I calm down when he is looking at you like a piece of meat” Jax huffed.

“You look at me like I’m a piece of meat” you giggled trying to lighten up the situation.

“Yeah well I’m allowed seen as I am your husband” he winked “but creepy Santa dude is definitely not allowed to”

Pinching the bridge of your nose you prayed to every god you could think of that your husband didn’t kill Santa.

Soon enough it was finally your turn, Jax knelt down on one knee as he placed his Princess on the ground. As soon as she could she ran up to Santa grinning.

Jax’s arms wrapped around your waist as he rested his head on your shoulder.

“What do you think she’s asking for?” You asked as you both watched from the sidelines.

“Definitely a baby brother or sister” Jax grinned.

“Is that what she wants or is it something her daddy wants for her” you smirked as Jax hands landed on your stomach.

“Well I mean we can have fun trying right” he laughed “but I do want another child, I want so see you grow I mean I can’t get enough of you anyway but when you had your bump fuck me”

“I remember” you giggled thinking back on the times. “I think she’s done”

“Thank fuck for that” Jax said pulling away from you and heading over to your daughter.

“Mummy, daddy” she grinned “I want you in the picture”

Following her request you stood one side of Santa and Jax the other. You felt Santa’s eyes on your boobs and no doubt Jax was glaring at him. As soon as the picture was taken and in your hands you couldn’t help but laugh. What you thought was correct.

“Well this is one for the album” you winked at Jax before watching as your girl ran towards Gemma.

“Thanks for taking her for the night Ma” Jax smiled kissing Gem’s cheek.

“We are gonna have so much fun baby” Gem grinned picking her baby up. “Now let’s leave mummy and daddy alone for the night, grandma wants another grandchild”

You were glad Gemma was babysitting tonight as it meant you and Jax could get your Christmas shopping finished with no interruptions.

Walking out of the shopping centre hand in hand giggling like teenagers. Luckily you had already dumped the bags in the Range Rover and went back for a coffee.

As Jax spun you around he saw Santa from earlier and instantly saw red as the creep ran his eyes over your body.

“Jax he isn’t worth it” you whispered, placing both hands on his chest.

You knew he was going to ignore you which was why as soon as he walked off you called juice telling him to hack the mall’s security camera’s and replace the footage.

Leaning against the wall you placed a smoke between your lips, as you scrolled through your social media just waiting for Jax to finish beating Santa up.

Not long later Jax appeared by your side.

“Shall we head home darlin’?” Jax smirked resting his arm over your shoulder.

“You finished beating Santa up?” You asked, raising your eyebrow at him.

“Yeah he got the message” he smirked

“Well I have to say” you laughed walking back to the car with your arm around Jax’s waist “you are definitely on the naughty list this year and have fucked Christmas because Santa isn’t coming to the Tellers this year”

“We all know I’m the real Santa anyway” he smirked “and come on baby we are both on the naughty list”

SOA TAGLIST

@chibsytelford @talicat713 @corebore123 @nothingeverdies @teapartydreams @mrspeacem1nusone @khyharah @itmejado @beth-winchester21 @rocketqueen @auroraariza @trulysuccubus @haynsey @witching-hour @destynelseclipsa @edonaspanca @abbiesthings @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @jadesamhart @lady-pswrld @ly--canthrope @hennessyauntie @gemini0410 @i-love-scott-mccall @est11 @mystic-shadows42 @sugary-x-sweet @starrynite7114 @skyofficialxx @terminallygenius @lauraashley93 @leaalfred @angelreyesgirl89 @sheeshgivemeabreak @marquelapage @meteora-fc @penny4yourthot @justahopelessssromantic @ilikechocolatemilkh @mayans-sauce @xbreezymeadowsx @ben-c-group-therapy @-im-fantastic- @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @milaxmariex @cubblycie @little-diable @hotdamnhunnam @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead

[drawing-way-outside-the-lines]

i NEED more of your writing so 🌹🌹🌹

Ohhhh :D I'm so excited to get one from you!!! Thank you!!! *Hurries to find an Andy piece*

Andy: *He slowly walked up to the table, putting down the bag of food*

Dalton: *He sighed soft* what's in that bag anyway?

Andy: Fries, eggs, bacon...

Dalton: Hm...

Andy: *He smiled softly* There's enough for you, if you want... I was hoping to find you...

Dalton: You were? *He looked a bit unimpressed at Andy and filled more liquor in his glass*

Andy: *He shrugged lightly* Yeah... so I could get you out of the cold. I was worried about you.

Dalton: *He sat up more straight now, observing Andy* You were?

Andy: *He chuckled soft and stuck his hands in the food bag, dragging out the food, placing it on the counter in front of them, then sat down next to Dalton* Don't be so surprised that I care about you...

Dalton: After the phone call I just had, I'm surprised anyone would think I'm worth anything beside a public figure!

Andy: *He shrugged again* I see you, before I see all the other stuff... well, I used to see all the other stuff first, but I always *he shook his head and chuckled, grabbing the drink, taking a large sip* never mind, it's stupid!

Dalton: *He straightened up completely now* No, tell me...

Andy: I always saw you beneath everything else, and I always liked what I saw... *he looked at the fries rather shyly and chuckled* Yeah well *he quickly grabbed one and started munching* You should eat while they're still hot!

Dalton: *He sighed deep, observing Andy, and in this moment there were something so inviting, almost magnetic about him. And Dalton found himself very drawn to the guy sitting in front of him. He grabbed a couple fries and started munching* This... *he gestured at the food* was pure brilliance! Thank you! I really needed this!

Andy: *He smiled soft and sipped his drink then continued eating quietly, deciding he had already said more than enough!*

Dalton: *As they were done eating, the more than tipsy Dalton got up and started clearing the table*

Andy: *He hurried up, and although he was definitely tipsy too, he was far more on the sober side than Dalton, so he quickly grabbed most of the garbage and turned around to head for the garbage can, just to bump straight into Dalton* Ungh!!

Dalton: Heyyy! *he chuckled lightly*

Andy: I'm sorry! *he chuckled nervously*

Dalton: It's alright *he quickly headed to the sink with the glasses and passed Andy on his way out the kitchen* I'm going to my room.

Andy: *Was that an invitation? He quickly rushed after Dalton* Was that an invitation? *He whimpered soft as Dalton was already on the second floor, and hurried after him. He stepped into Dalton's room carefully and looked at him, already sitting on his bed, lighting a cig* Was uh... was that an invitation?

Dalton: Close the door behind you.

Andy: Okay *he quickly closed the door and lit a cig on his way over to Dalton. He walked around his bed and sat down next to him* Are you alright?

Dalton: *He shrugged lightly* I knew it was coming for months... maybe more than a year.... no... *he frowned deep* even longer than that to be honest. I tried my best to work on it. She didn't. She just gave up on us. A long time ago. And I was stupid enough to keep coming back for more every time she promised me things would change. I was the one who finally ended things this morning... it had been on my mind for months, and I finally got the courage some days ago, which is why I left her my new number, so she could call me back. *He sighed deep* I am perfectly sure that this is what I want. So then why am I feeling this.... empty inside?

Andy: I think that's inevitable, when we part from someone we used to love or care for. Specially if we still do.

Dalton: *He sighed deep and stood up, pulling the blinds down, leaving the room in almost complete darkness*

Andy: Okay? Does that mean end of conversation? *he chuckled hoarsely*

Dalton: No *he reached forwards, lighting a lighter, then lit 3 tall candles, standing on his bedside table* I was just tired of the brightness... I wish the night was still young so we could just chill, and listen to music... getting drunk... not caring about all the shit for a while!

Andy: We already pretty drunk *he chuckled again* and I mean.... no one says the night has to end yet... is it really day if there's no daylight to prove it? *he smirked* and you got a laptop, which means Youtube is right there *he gestured at the laptop* And honestly, there's no place I would rather be right now, besides I have no plans.... so.... I'll just send a quick sms to Evan, so no one goes searching for me in the snow.

Dalton: *He smiled softly* are you sure?

Andy: Yeah man *he smiled brighter* specially when you keep leaning over that table like that *he wiggled his eyebrows at Dalton's butt, to try to lighten the mood*

Dalton: *He chuckled lightly and shook his head, then stood up* I'll go grab something to drink for us. Would wine be okay?

Andy: *He nodded eagerly* Sure! *As Dalton left the room, he quickly typed up an sms, making both Evan and Congo the receivers. 'Hey! It be me! I'm inside, safe, warm! Don't worry! I'm at Dalton's and it looks like I might be staying till later! Party on people! :* :* :* <3 '

Dalton: *He entered the room few seconds later, seeming a bit more cheerful, as there were now a somewhat large smile on his face*

Andy: *He chuckled lightly, as he observed Dalton, pouring wine in two glasses, wondering what he was suddenly so happy about?*

Dalton: So *he said as he sat down next to Andy, handing him one of the wine glass* you fancy my bum?

Andy: *He snorted into his wine glass and quickly sipped it* Yeah... I mean... what's not to fancy? it's delicious...

Dalton: *He grinned wide and satisfied, then sipped his wine* good to know! *he quickly leaned over the laptop and got it woken up, finding his way to Youtube and some jazzy album, not too upbeat, not too slow* So, anything else you fancy about me? *he said as he pulled his legs up in bed, crossing them, sipping his wine*

Andy: *He chuckled hoarsely and felt his cheeks blush, quickly drinking a large mouthful of the wine* Uhm... let's not get into that

Dalton: Why not? *he chuckled amused and sipped his wine*

Andy: Uh *he chuckled hoarse and rather nervous* cause uh *I think you're rather fantastic, but someone very dear to me is also in love with you, and it wouldn't be appropriate to get in between that, but I do find you pretty amazing overall *he regretted it as soon as he heard the words escape his mouth and quickly took a sip of the wine* I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that...

Dalton: *He smiled soft at Andy and leaned forwards, planting a light kiss on his lips* I'm glad you did *he said as he sat back down on his spot and sipped his glass*

Andy: *Definitely more blushing, quickly emptying his glass* why do you kiss me when you're drunk? *he frowned soft and wondered why the fuck he couldn't seem to keep his mouth shut?!?!*

Dalton: *He shrugged lightly* I guess I can just get pretty friendly when I'm drunk? I apologize if I stepped over a line, and if you want me to stop I respectfully will...

Andy: No it's not that... I was just wondering, it doesn't bother me... I just... *he sighed softly* am I the only guy you-

Dalton: No *he shook his head lightly and continued speaking as if it was no big deal* I have kissed one of my band mates several times, not like making out or...well maybe a bit one time, but it was just for fun at a big party... I just don't see a big issue in kissing a man if I fancy kissing him... it's just something fun I like to do, to show affection. Of course it's not something I do with just anyone, it's something I do with people I feel close enough and comfortable enough to do something like that with... people I'm sure are like-minded and wont think it's weird, of line-crossing or get offended *he sipped his glass lightly and noticed Andy's empty glass* Do you want more?

Andy: ..... kisses or wine? *he chuckled teasingly*

Dalton: Well.. *he grabbed the wine and poured some in Andy's glass* I technically meant wine... but both, sure... *he grinned cheekily at Andy*

Andy: *A goofy nervous chuckle escaped him, so he quickly laid down across Dalton's bed, but careful enough to not spill any of the wine*

Dalton: *He laid down opposite Andy, observing him for a moment* I don't even remember how to be single any longer... which is ultimately the reason why I staid with her, which is nonsense, right?

Andy: *He shrugged lightly* I dunno, it makes sense to me. You're used to the intimacy.

Dalton: You'd think I wasn't any longer... it's been at least a year since I felt any real intimacy from her... I'm honestly extremely lonely *he sighed and sipped his wine* is the music annoying you?

Andy: No... why would it?

Dalton: *He shrugged lightly* Not everyone fancies Jazz.

Andy: Not everyone has good taste... that goes for your ex as well.

Dalton: *He chuckled lightly* Well she used to... I suppose... if I'm good taste? I dunno?

Andy: ........ *again there were so many things he wanted to say, but he didn't dare*

Dalton: ......

Andy: But... maybe something more chilled if you were going for some late-night vibes? Well I suppose Jazz is too but-

Dalton: Suggest me something! *He sat up excitedly and dragged himself closer to the laptop, ready to type on Youtube...

Andy: *He chuckled hoarsely and wormed himself closer to Dalton, sorta trying to crawl without spilling, leaning over Dalton* Hold this... *he reached his glass to Dalton, and started typing* I was thinking more along the line of one of my own playlists... Let me see... *he bit his bottom lip lightly, trying not to grin about the fact that at the moment he was halfway laying over Dalton's legs*

Dalton: Hey, don't fall now, we're gonna drown in wine then! *he chuckled amused*

Andy: Yeah, trying to hurry *he chuckled, and quickly found his favorite playlist* Let me just find a song... ahh! *he said after a short moments scrolling* Let's just start it from here! It doesn't really matter much, I suppose... since all the songs are night vibes to me... this is the list I listen to most at night if I want to relax and just drift away... *he quickly clicked play: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uEw35KJ4PEk&list=PLixuBkBFIAJnx83gIorsEhfnKAjWxrFjo&index=127

Dalton: Okay... let's see *he handed Andy his glass again, as he returned to lay on the bed*

Andy: *Suddenly realizing the song he had picked... well the lyrics... panic!*

Dalton: .... *clearly listening to the music*

Andy: *More panic!!!... and then the lyrics started*

[clumsyclifford]

OKAY. how about "This wasn’t meant to be a date, but we’ve had such a good time and now it’s 2 a.m. and I should really go home…" with ur teacher alex/ambiguous office job jack? (or any version of jalex) (we just love jalex in this house)

well hello, she said casually, nine months later. thank you for the excellent prompt, sorry it took me so long to get to it, but you can thank yourself for that too considering going to ssf is what inspired me to finally write this one. bellawritess clumsyclifford pictures is proud to present: the tshirt jalex meet-cute :)

read here on ao3

-

Later, Alex learns that the boy at the barricade who’d elbowed Alex in the face trying to snatch the thrown guitar pick out of the air is named Jack.

“I’m so sorry,” Jack says for the millionth time, even though Alex has laughed it off every other time. He laughs it off this time, too.

“Seriously, it’s fine. And hey, you caught it.”

Jack holds up the guitar pick, triumphant. “I did catch it,” he says. The blink-182 logo flashes its dead and frozen smile at Alex. Alex finds himself smiling back, though not so much at the pick.

The leaving crowd parts around the two of them. Headlights flood the night, filling the street before them with light and noise. There’s a line of cars backed up further than Alex cares to imagine. Those at the front must have left the show significantly before the set was over. Quitters.

“What I didn’t catch was your name,” Jack adds. His lips quirk, like he’s proud of such a smooth line.

“Alex,” says Alex. “We should probably get out of everyone’s way. Are you waiting for someone, or…?”

“No, no, I came alone.”

“Yeah, me too. Was supposed to have a friend but he bailed on me last-minute.”

“Seriously? Bailed on a blink concert?”

“I know, right?” Alex grins. “Eh, whatever. If he’d been here you probably never would have elbowed me in the face and then we’d never have met.”

“But I would’ve never elbowed you in the face,” Jack says. “Don’t you think you’d have preferred that?”

“Not if it means we’d have never met.”

Jack’s smile slowly grows. “Fair enough. Did you know there’s a 24-hour diner literally five minutes from here?”

“Oh, man, I like the way you think,” Alex says, shoving his hands into his pockets to protect them from the cool late-night breeze. “I didn’t want to sit in this traffic anyway.”

“And I don’t blame you.”

“Well, lead the way,” Alex says, nodding down the sidewalk, and he falls into step with Jack as they both start to walk.

-

The Tastee Diner is charmingly diner-y — neon lights, stools at the bar, the whole nine yards — and, more attractively, it’s mostly empty at this hour. It’s past midnight, later even than Alex’s usual bedtime, but between the buzz from the concert and Jack the attractive stranger across from him, he’s not really feeling tired. If he’s going to flush his sleep schedule down the drain, a post-concert Friday night seems like the best time to do it.

And Jack is really cute. So that helps.

“Breakfast,” Alex says reverently when they’re seated. “Oh my God, a fucking giant waffle.”

“Wow, everything you say makes me like you more,” Jack says, leaning his elbows on the table. Alex glances over the top of his menu but Jack’s eyes are focused on his own menu on the tabletop. He’s smiling a little. So is Alex.

“It’s a giant waffle, Jack! How the fuck do I say no to that?”

“You don’t. This table is pro-giant waffle. At the exclusion of anything else.”

“You’re damn right it is,” Alex says. “Do we also happen to be pro-chocolate milkshake?”

“We’re pro-vanilla milkshake.”

“Ew, seriously?”

Jack rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know, how can I like vanilla when chocolate is right there—”

“Yeah, how can you?” Alex reaches over the table and covers Jack’s hand with his own. Their eyes meet. Very seriously, Alex says, “How do you look at yourself in the mirror, you monster?”

A beat. Jack chews his lip, clearly trying not to smile. “With great difficulty,” he says. He’s humoring Alex, but sincerity sparkles in his deep brown eyes. His earnest gaze holds Alex’s and he doesn’t pull his hand away. After a moment, Alex does.

“Well, if I looked like you I’d never stop looking in the mirror,” he says instead, and brings his gaze back to the menu. A laugh escapes Jack.

“You can’t turn it off, can you?”

“Turn what off?”

“Your flirty brain-to-mouth pipeline?”

“I could,” Alex says breezily. “I choose not to.” It feels like a subtle rejection, a quiet dig, but it’s hard to be sure. Jack’s smirk seems to suggest otherwise.

The waitress comes by to take their orders of two giant waffles and two milkshakes — chocolate for Alex, vanilla for Jack, though Alex is sure to give Jack a judgmental look as he’s ordering. When she goes, Jack laces his fingers together and leans back in the booth. “So,” he says. “Your name is Alex, you’ve got fantastic music taste, and you seem to be more or less my age, but that’s about all I know about you. Are you from around here? What do you do? Likes, dislikes?”

“Are you trying to build me a dating profile?”

“That wouldn’t be very opportunistic of me, would it?” Jack smiles innocently. Alex’s heart gives a little leap. “I’m trying to get to know you. You know, like any normal stranger would if they found themself at a diner with another stranger.”

That’s fair. They are effectively strangers, although Alex can think of a shorter word to describe what they’re doing right now. He glances around at the jukebox-esque machine bolted to the wall next to their booth, at the empty swivel stools at the bar, at the marble tabletop where Jack is absently tapping his fingers. The decor of the diner is very classic, and he and Jack, both dressed in blink merch and black jeans like the perpetual emo teens they’re no doubt trying to emulate, stick out like sore thumbs.

However unintentional, it sure as hell feels like a date to him.

“I’m from Baltimore,” he starts. Jack lights up.

“No shit! Me too.”

“Really? Whereabouts?”

“Well, I work by the harbor.”

“No shit, I work in Highlandtown,” Alex says excitedly. “Highlandtown Middle. I’m a teacher.”

Jack whistles lowly. “That’s fucking awesome. What do you teach?”

“Music,” Alex says, and Jack groans, although he’s smiling as his hands move to cover his face.

“Of course you do,” he says.

Alex tilts his head. “What, are you not a fan of music teachers? That’s insane.”

“No, no, it’s not that, it’s just.” Jack laughs. “Of course the hot guy I meet at a blink-182 concert is a middle school music teacher. I feel like God is punishing me for refusing to play anything but bad drums in middle school band.”

Alex also laughs. Being called a hot guy by a hot guy is making his stomach do gymnastics. He’s too old for his stomach to be doing things like that, but his stomach clearly doesn’t care. “Well, if I’d been your teacher, trust me, you’d have been playing solidly mediocre drums. But I’m sorry you feel that way.”

Jack’s hands fall to his lap. “I’m sure I’ll get over it,” he says with a slanted smile.

Alex swallows and grins. “So did you look up surrounding diners before you came, or are you just…inexplicably familiar with Silver Spring geography?”

“I come to a lot of concerts here,” Jack says, nodding in the general direction of the venue they’d just vacated. “Venue’s awesome.”

“Yeah, it really is. Honestly, I’m still amazed that you caught that pick.”

“I have a lot of practice. From aforementioned many concerts.”

“I can see that.”

“Trust me, it’s a very specific skill. I’ve got awful hand-eye coordination,” Jack says with a chuckle. “My dream of being the youngest Oriole inducted into the Hall of Fame was crushed at a young age.”

Fizzy champagne fills Alex’s chest. He can’t stop smiling. “Fuck yes, you’re an Orioles fan?”

“That’s my team,” Jack says, looking excited. Possibly at the prospect of meeting another person who’s equally interested in both music and baseball. That’s why Alex is excited, anyway.

“It’s my team,” he says enthusiastically. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, they fucking suck—”

“Oh, no, yeah, they’re the worst—”

“But I’d take a bullet for them. I happily go down with ‘em every year.”

“Yeah, they’re my boys,” Jack agrees. “Here’s hoping this season is better than every single other one.”

“Yeah, all my fingers are crossed, but between you and me I don’t have a lot of faith.”

Jack shrugs and nods. “It’s good for my ego to be so loyal to such a bad team. Keeps me humble.”

“That’s the best attitude I’ve ever heard,” Alex says, and Jack’s smile is so radiant Alex could swear he can feel the glare off the shiny marble tabletop.

-

“Between ‘All The Small Things’ and ‘Going Away To College’ how the fuck am I going to choose ‘Small Things’?”

“Yeah, but it’s such a classic! ‘College’ is, like, emo and…emo.”

“No more emo than ‘I Miss You’ —”

“That one is a classic—”

“I’m not saying it’s not, I’m just saying ‘College’ is their best song and it deserves its spotlight.”

“That’s ‘Feeling This’ erasure and you know it.”

“Besides ‘Feeling This,’ but they always play ‘Feeling This.’ I stand by what I said. I’d swap ‘Small Things’ for ‘College.’ Deal with it.” Alex tongues his milkshake straw into his mouth. “Your turn.”

Jack glares at him for another long moment, like he has to properly make his point about it. “Fine,” he finally huffs. His gaze shifts sideways, off into the distance like he’s thinking, and he swirls his own straw around his milkshake cup. Alex can kind of see his reflection in it. While Jack is thinking, Alex quickly checks his phone.

(21:47) Rian Dawson: How’s the concert? Fuckin bummed I couldn’t make it :/

(21:48) Rian Dawson: Hope you’re having a good time anyway. Text me whenever you get home so I know you didn’t die or get trampled by a mosh pit or whatever the case may be.

Alex smiles and turns off his phone again.

“I feel like I can’t choose a song off Enema now that you did,” Jack mumbles.

“You can,” Alex says. “It would just be kind of a lot of Enema.”

“No, but Enema is a legendary album. I’d go to a show that was literally just all of Enema.”

“Why were you complaining about ‘College’ then!”

“I’m not complaining about ‘College’ itself, I just would never trade it for ‘Small Things’!”

Alex scoffs. “They play ‘Small Things’ all the time. I’ve never seen ‘College’ live. I’d literally kill.”

“Oh my God, I know what I’d do,” Jack says. “‘Shut Up’ instead of ‘Down.’ That’s the only thing that could make this set list more perfect.”

“Ohhh,” Alex says, “that would be fucking sick. Imagine two thousand people just shouting ‘shut the fuck up, she said’ at the top of their lungs.”

“I cannot think of anything cooler than that.”

Alex hums thoughtfully. “So you went with Take Off Your Pants instead of Enema in the end.”

“Alright, don’t get it twisted. If I could add the entirety of Enema to the set list, I would. But if I only get one song, it has to be ‘Shut Up.’ More Enema is never a bad thing.”

“Why wouldn’t you trade ‘College’ for ‘Down’ then?”

“Because that was your set list move, and this is mine,” Jack says. He slaps the table. “Yeah. This is the answer. Someone get Mark Hoppus on the line, stat. I have to tell him I’ve figured out the formula for the perfect set list.”

“‘Shut Up’ live would be awesome,” Alex concedes. “Good move.”

“What can I say, I have extremely good taste,” Jack says airily.

Alex snorts. “Okay, Vanilla Milkshake.”

“You’re just afraid to taste it because you know deep down that it will be better than your chocolate one,” Jack says, pointing his straw accusingly at Alex. Drops of milkshake fall onto the table. Alex sweeps a napkin over the mess.

“You had an advantage over me, though,” he observes. “You said your favorite blink song is ‘Feeling This,’ which was already on the set list. My favorite song wasn’t, so my hands were kind of tied.”

“It’s among my favorite blink songs,” Jack says. “I have many. Most of which are set list staples, yeah. But that’s on you for only having one favorite song.”

“Wait, what? You can’t have many favorites, that defeats the whole point of having a favorite.”

“I can have multiple favorites, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“No way, man. You only get to have one favorite. You can have second-favorites or close favorites but there’s always one that’s better than the rest.”

“Sorry to burst you bubble, Al, but I have more than one favorite blink song,” Jack says, shrugging. “I also have more than one favorite color and more than one favorite food and more than one favorite song.”

Alex shakes his head through Jack’s speech. “I reject this out of hand.”

“You can’t.”

“Well, Clearly Enema is your favorite blink album.”

“Tied with Take Off.”

“Seriously?” Alex narrows his eyes. “Come on, there must be one thing you have just one favorite of.”

“Yeah, there is,” Jack says. “My favorite movie is Home Alone. No other movie comes anywhere close.”

Of course it is. Alex grins and inclines his head in accordance. “That…is extremely good taste.”

“Thank you,” Jack says graciously, and slurps loudly from his milkshake.

-

The next time Alex checks his phone, his brain takes a moment to catch up. “Holy shit, it’s already one a.m.?”

“Oh shit,” Jack says, checking his phone as well. “Time flies when you’re having fun.”

That adage has never felt more true. Slowly working through giant waffles and milkshakes while exchanging questions and random conversational topics with Jack has been the most fun Alex has had in a long time. Diners, he muses. There’s something about diners. Time feels frozen within these walls, and Alex kind of wants to stay in the time bubble forever, laughing with Jack until the sun comes up.

He could do it. Tomorrow’s a Saturday. Nobody works on Saturday, not even Jack at his “boring office job” (his words).

But he knows there’s a reason that nothing gold can stay. It wouldn’t be valuable if it lasted forever. The night will crystallize as something special in Alex’s memory, but it can’t do that until it ends. And it has to end eventually.

“We should probably go,” Alex says reluctantly. Jack nods once.

“Yeah,” he says. He signals for the check and looks back at Alex. “My treat.”

“Uh, no way. I’m paying.”

“Nope, not happening. I will elbow you in the face again if I have to. I’m paying this check.”

“Jack—” Alex wavers. Jack looks so insistent, eyebrows raised like he’s daring Alex to argue, and there’s nothing to do but smile. “Okay. If you insist. We’ll call it even for you assaulting me earlier.”

“Exactly,” Jack says, and he happily accepts the check when the waitress hands it to him.

“Did you guys get everything you need?” she asks the two of them.

Alex glances at Jack, but Jack’s scanning the check. “Pretty much, yeah,” he tells the waitress. She leaves them with the check, and they vacate their table to go pay it at the front.

Alex wonders what someone might think if they saw this table. Whether anyone could even begin to illustrate the story of the night using only two empty milkshake cups and two plates that formerly held waffles. It would be impossible. Not even Sherlock Holmes could work this one out.

Alex smiles. They’re a fossil in amber, preserved in memory. Even if it turns out not to be a date, Alex knows he’ll look back on tonight fondly, and he can count on this exact same smile every time he does.

Jack finishes paying and turns to face Alex. One arm outstretched, he says, “Shall we?”

Alex links their arms. “After you, good sir.”

They’re laughing as they leave in a glow of neon light.

-

“This is me,” Alex says, gesturing half-heartedly at his car. They both stop short behind it.

“Ah,” Jack says, nodding. “So I guess this is where I leave you.”

Alex swallows. “I’m glad you elbowed me in the face,” he admits, which sounds strange to say out of the blue. “I had a good time tonight.”

“What, at the concert?”

Jack is obviously teasing, but Alex doesn’t mind being more clear. “Actually, I think I had more fun after the concert,” he says, smiling a little. “You’re good company, JB.”

Jack smiles, and if Alex isn’t mistaken, he’s also blushing. “Same to you,” he says. “Despite your wrong opinions about the set list.”

“I hate sounding like a cliché,” Alex says, ruffling a hand through his hair. Jack cocks his head. “But, um, I’d like to see you again. If that’s okay.”

“So okay,” Jack says. “And totally plausible, considering we apparently live within twenty minutes of each other.”

“True,” Alex says. “The universe really wanted us to meet, I guess.”

“Thank you, Universe, for putting Alex in harm’s way,” Jack says solemnly, looking upwards. Alex laughs. “Can I have your number?”

“Yeah, yes, of course.”

Alex recites his phone number for Jack to enter into his contacts. “I promise I’ll call,” Jack says. His gaze flits around Alex’s face like it can’t find a good place to land. He drags his index finger diagonally over his chest. “Cross my heart and everything.”

“I have to ask,” Alex says, shifting on his feet. “Were you— was this supposed to be a date?” He hesitates; maybe that’s the wrong question. “Was it a date?”

“For the sake of anniversaries, let’s say yes,” Jack says. Immediately his face puckers in regret. “Pretend I didn’t say that. I’m— my brain gets ahead of me.”

“No, it’s all good.” It’s more than good; there’s a horde of butterflies in Alex’s ribcage that won’t fucking quit, not now that he knows Jack is thinking of anniversaries when this is only maybe their first date. A person who is not only anticipating a future for them but preparing to celebrate it. So far, so fucking good. “You’re a practical thinker. I can appreciate that.”

“And I appreciate that you aren’t deleting your number from my phone even after I just said that to you,” Jack says, grinning. His grin melts away when he sighs. “I should go. It’s late.”

“Yeah,” Alex echoes. “Late.”

“Please drive safe,” Jack says seriously. “If I’m the last person to see you before you die, that’ll make me look really bad.”

Alex laughs. He likes that Jack keeps making him laugh. His friends make him laugh, too, but Jack makes him laugh in a different way, like he can’t stop himself. Like the delight refuses to stay trapped.

“I promise to drive safe,” he vows. “I owe you a date. I would hate to lose the chance to impress you.”

“Oh, wait, that reminds me.” Jack reaches into his pocket and presses something into Alex’s hand. It’s the guitar pick, warm from Jack’s pocket. “You’ll probably use it more than me,” Jack explains, ducking his head. “You know, being a music teacher and all.”

“Oh,” Alex breathes, flipping the pick in his palm. “That’s, um…thank you. Thanks. I’m…”

“Yeah,” Jack says, licking his lips. “Of course. Um, okay, now I really should go. But like I said, I’ll call.”

Alex nods, still staring at the guitar pick in his hand. His head snaps up and he breaks from whatever trance he’d fallen into. “I’m counting on it,” he says, stepping closer to Jack. He hears Jack inhale as he leans closer, brushing his lips to Jack’s cheek.

When Jack speaks, it’s a hoarse whisper. “I had a good time too, you know.”

Alex leans away and starts walking backwards to the driver-side door. “Good,” he says, smiling warmly. He’s not really trying to smile so warmly but he can’t help it. “Get home safe, Jack.”

“Yeah,” Jack says. “You too, Alex.”

[district2001]

Fake Fan

Seventeen AU: 14th member

ERA: An Ode/ Fear

Jangmi x SVT

Recap: Jangmi deals with an unpleasant situation at a fansign, and takes it a lot worse than she expected

Words: 1.3k 

AN: Requests are OPEN: Please please please send me what you want to see from Jangmi. I’m also open to feedback :)

Let me know if you want a part 2 on the members reactions

CHECK OUT MY MASTERLIST FOR MORE JANGMI CONTENT XX

“OMG We have matching earrings!” Jangmi squealed as she continued signing the carats album, adding a quick ‘twinning’ alongside her autograph.

Seventeen were currently smack bang in the middle of the ‘An Ode’ promotions, and their schedule was packed with music shows, radio interviews and fan signs. The latter being her favourite. She could secretly eat snacks, mess up the performance as much as she pleased as well as spill some of the tea with Carats.

She waved goodbye the fan, before taking a sip of her water whilst waiting for the next fan to move along. She was squashed between Mingyu and Hoshi, who had both decided that would be super loud and annoying today. She grabbed one of the feather boas near Mingyu and wrapped it around her neck. It definitely didn’t match her leather suit, but the bright pink allowed her to stand out from the rest of the members. As if being the only girl wasn’t enough.

She turned to face the next carat, who was still talking to Mingyu. Must be their bias, she thought. Jangmi continued waving at the fans back in their seat, making stupid faces to them.

One of their staff came up behind her and tugged the boa, so it came off her neck. Jangmi turned around to face them, whilst pouting.

“Nice try.” They teased, ruffling her hair slightly, but not enough to ruin the difficult task their hairstylists had this morning. They then ushered the fan who was still with Mingyu, to move over to Jangmi.

“Hi, how are you today? Is Mingyu your bias?” Jangmi asked. Whilst trying to grabs the fans hands to hold. But they just shoved their hands back.

Strange. Jangmi thought. But then again not everyone wants to hold hands.

“He’s my favourite person in the entire world.” The fan declared, a smile on her face from ear to ear.

Jangmi politely smiled. “He’s a good bias to have. I mean did you see the amount of content he gives carats. Mukbangs after emceeing every weekend. I think Joshua’s stans are in a continuous drought.”

Jangmi reached over to grab the album, but the fan once again pulled it out of the way, hugging it tightly

“Do you bias him” they asked cautiously.

Jangmi tilted her head, at the strange question. “Ofcourse I do.” She then lowered her voice into a whisper. “He’s my favourite member.”

The last comment, which was meant to be a joke, clearly hadn’t turned into one, since the fan was furrowing her eyebrows at Jangmi.

Jangmi awkwardly looked around, trying to find a way to diffuse the tension. She couldn’t think of anything, so she leaned over to get the album- to sign- since it was technically a fansign.

What she didn’t expect was the ‘carat’ to thwart her hand away.

“Stop throwing yourself at Mingyu, you little slut. I know he’s your boyfriend” They whispered, loud enough only for Jangmi to hear.

“He’s- He’s not?” It can out more like a question then a statement. Jangmi furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

The fan quickly grabbed Jangmi’s hands, and squeezed them a little too tightly, for her liking. She tried pulling away, but they started digging their nails into her skin.

“I don’t even understand what he sees in you. You’re just a little fat fuck who is free-riding on Seventeens success. Don’t think you’re better than anyone else. You don’t deserve his heart”

Jangmi widened her eyes, trying to silently motion for the staff to come over. Where were they when she needed them.

“Please let go of me before I call security.” She firmly said, hoping they didn’t catch the little quiver in her voice.

The fan leaned over closer and sneered, tightening their grip on her arms. “Do it, I dare you. Bring more attention towards the truth.”

She was weighing up her options, when Hoshi suddenly interrupted her train for thought. “Jangmi, don’t steal all our carats.”

“I’m not.” Jangmi scoffed, holding up her hands which were still being held by their fan. “She’s not letting go.”

“Not her fault everyone loves her.” Mingyu chimed, causing the fans eyes to widen.

“Do you love Jangmi?” The fan asked quickly, tripping over their words.

Mingyu, being the most unobservant person on the planet replied with a simple “obviously,” whilst leaning his head on Jangmi’s shoulder.

Jangmi tried pushing him off to not make the situation worse, but the damage was done once the fan let go of her hands and stood up on their chair.

“Everyone” She yelled, causing everyone to stop what they were doing and look at her. “Mingyu just confirmed that he loves Jangmi.”

Jangmi held her breath, waiting for the crowd and staff to go crazy.

They did not.

They just laughed, and went back to doing what they were doing before the interruption.

Jangmi mentally laughed. Why was she even worried? Carats were so used to dating rumours with her and her members. Legit. They don’t even trust Dispatch anymore.

Unfortunately, her happiness was short lived, when the fan started yelling again. Except this time, instead of spilling the tea, she was calling Jangmi out for being a shitty human being.

“What does Mingyu even see in that talented bitch?” All the members stopped signing again, with Seungcheol pre-empting the situation and alerting security.

“Mingyu’s never going to be yours. You can’t sing. Can’t dance. Can’t rap. You can’t even speak Korean. Plus you look like you need to go on a diet. You’d probably have been kicked out already if you were in a kpop girlgroup.”

Hoshi quickly stood up, pulling Jangmi with him, and stood infront of her, shielding her from the fan.

“Ignore it.” He whispered, not breaking the deathgare he was shooting at their fan.

The fan’s rant was cut short by security asking her politely to get down from the stool and walk off stage.

Jangmi felt someone’s hands wrap around her shoulders, and she leant into their embrace, slightly embarrassed for being the centre of this whole ordeal.

“You know what?” The fan screamed at their security. “I don’t want this shitty album anyway. Since her medicore vocals are on it.” She pointed her finger at Jangmi before hurling the CD towards her.

Jangmi, who was too busy looking at her members reactions, didn’t have enough time to process what was happening. And before she knew it, she felt the sharp corner of their album hit her cheek, before crashing on the floor.

Hoshi quickly turned around to face his maknae and cupped her slightly red cheeks. “Are you okay?” He asked worriedly, quickly scanning her face for any signs of distress.

  She nodded while biting her lip, trying not to show any emotion. That was the first rule of fansigns; make it a positive and fun environment for carats.

She felt the arm around her shoulder pull her towards the side of the stage, and she didn’t object. Instead she grabbed one of the signs she was gifted as shielded herself from the fans.

“Thanks Hannie” She whispered, as they walked off the stage.

Hannie’s arm was replaced by their managers, who guided her to the nearest couch.

“Go back onstage. And tell everyone that everything’s under control.”

“Can’t I stay with Jangmi for a little while.” Jeonghan pleaded, but one look of their managers face made it clear that it was no point arguing.

Jeonghan quickly untied her high ponytail and took out all the bobby pins, before running his fingers through her hair. “Just relaxed for a bit. Don’ worry we can handle the rest of the fansign.”

He quickly ran back on stage, but not before turning around and giving her a thumbs up.

Her manager came back over to give her a bottle of cold water, which she gladly accepted.

It’s not like she hadn’t received hate comments before. She was basically the only girl in a group full of guys. Not to mention that they were all considered visuals, and she-well the fan was right- definitely did not fit into any of the beauty standards of the industry.

But she had never really had to deal with a hater in person before, especially right in front of her. Usually, they just talked shit on the internet, and she could give a snarky reply from her secret fan account.

This was different. Everyone heard it. And she was so sure it would be the talk of the town for the next few weeks. Pledis would make a statement, the members would be ultra protective of her and her parents would once again question her decision of being an idol. Fucking fantastic!

She heard Seungcheol making a statement, and fans screaming back towards him. She heard a few ‘I love You’s’ and ‘Jangmi’s,’ but she honestly was a bit over the situation, to really understand what was happening.

As she sunk deeper into the couch, she accepted the fact that she was not ok after this ordeal. But she’d have to keep on a brave face. Considering the end of promotions was nowhere near in sight.

Next: Hyung Line’s Reaction

[cyclogenesis]

i have to tell you that the second i saw cal and ash on that mountain getaway a couple weeks ago, i thought about how desperately i would love a sequel to your turks & caicos fic set during that trip. (this is not a request, i promise, i just wanted to tell you bc that is one of my fav fics of all time)

Aw anon!! 🥺 Gosh I hadn't even thought about that when I was in my feelings about the mountain getaway pictures, which is wild because I am just remembering now that I started a fic after the honeymoon comment initially happened (like, very soon after, because @elliebirdthings was at that show and told me about it and we were freaking out haha), before we knew that they went to Turks & Caicos, and I had them taking that trip to a cabin in Maine.

Just for kicks, because this message made me smile and I love you for that, here's the beginning of that fic. It's unfinished obviously (not even any kissing!), but there's some nice stuff in there I think. This fic was going to be titled A whole fucking lifetime of this after the American Pleasure Club album which was a title I should have kept, goddammit. Also randomly in here I have them driving to the cabin while listening to My Bloody Valentine, who Ashton later called out as one of his main influences for Superbloom.

1600 words of unfinished Cashton under the cut! 😘

The day after the last meeting about the promo schedule the dressing room conversation turns, as it does, to plans for the break. It’s a month out, but they’ve to a man developed a fetish for planning their free time carefully as soon as the schedule’s set. Planning things makes Ashton feel like a grown-up. He likes renting cars. Sometimes he scrolls through AirBnB for hours just to see what’s out there.

“I’m going straight back, we got Dodgers tickets,” Michael says.

“I remember when you used to say ‘we’ and it meant you and me,” Calum says. He wiggles a little from where he’s snuggled against Michael on the couch like he wants to get away, but of course Michael doesn’t let him. Ashton thinks he probably wasn’t really trying.

“Aw, you’ll always be my first love,” Michael tells him, squeezing Calum to him more tightly. “You wanna make out just for old times sake?”

“I do not,” says Calum, but he lets Michael give him a big kiss on the forehead, his face squinching up happily.

“I just wanna get away for a bit, no work or social media or anything,” says Ashton, ignoring their tomfoolery. “A little cabin by a lake somewhere.”

“Oh yeah?” Luke says. “Where are you and Cal going this time?”

“Maine,” Calum says, at the same time as Ashton says, “Why would you assume we’re going somewhere together?”

A small silence falls over the room.

With dignity, Ashton says, “Calum and I are going to Maine.”

“Just get out in front of it this time,” Michael advises. “Let everyone know it’s another honeymoon. Take control of the narrative.”

“How many times can you go on a honeymoon before you have to acknowledge that you’re married?” Luke asks nobody in particular.

“It’s a bro trip,” Ashton says firmly. “For bros.”

“It’s very bromantic,” Luke says. “It’s okay, I’m not hurt I wasn’t invited. I love going back to LA and jerking off alone.”

“It’s nice that we’ve all got plans,” Calum says. He’s settled peacefully back against Michael, Michael absently petting his hair.

“It’s not a honeymoon,” Ashton insists.

*

Whatever, Ashton called it what he called it, okay? Might as well control the narrative.

Over drinks at the bar after their last show Calum asks, “Where would you want to go on your honeymoon, anyway? Somewhere new?”

Ashton pokes at the ice in his cocktail with his straw. Aren’t they supposed to not be using straws anymore because of the ocean or whatever? Ashton loves the ocean, it’s very important to him. Also this cocktail sucks. “Can I try your drink?” he asks. “I don’t love mine.” Calum has something with ginger in it, and bubbles. Calum slides his obligingly over, and Ashton passes his own over to be fair.

“I like yours better,” Calum says after a sip. “You wanna trade?”

Sometimes Ashton does believe in soulmates. “Yes, thank you.” He takes a long drink. “It would be nice to spend more time in Italy. Not one of the tourist-y parts though, somewhere quiet. Up north, maybe, one of the smaller towns.” He tries to picture what it would be like: olive groves, blue skies, stone churches. An old villa with lemon trees and a view of the hills. He’s so used to traveling with the band or just with Calum that it’s hard to picture anyone else there with him. They’re all as prone as anyone to get swept up with girls to the exclusion of most everything else, but Ashton can’t really imagine a future without seeing Calum all the time, without talking to him every day. Maybe he and Calum could just get married around the same time and they could all go on a honeymoon together.

“Yeah, that’d be pretty nice,” Calum says, looking wistful. Ashton wants to take a picture of him, capture the way a curl rests against his temple, how the blue neon lights behind the bar hit the glitter he let Ashton smear on his cheekbones before the show. They made a no social media pledge for this trip but Ashton’s bringing his camera anyway. He has to keep in practice, doesn’t he? Anyway, it’s important to capture these memories.

“Maybe we should just go,” Ashton tells him. “Why not? Who knows how long it could take for me to fool someone into living with this forever?” He sucks down the last of his drink, feeling sorry for himself now. What if he falls in love and she moves in and Calum stops coming over in the morning to walk to their favorite coffee shop together, and stops picking Ashton up so they can go hike Runyon, and stops bringing Duke over like he owns the damn place and doesn’t care about the dog hair that Ashton has to hoover off his couch pillows? That would be terrible. Worst of all, what if it was Ashton that suddenly wanted those things to stop?

“I’ll live with you forever,” Calum says, too busy flagging down the bartender to intuit Ashton’s emotional crisis. He gestures to Ashton’s empty drink. “Another one of those, right?” His own is still half full. Maybe he didn’t really like Ashton’s better after all.

“Yeah, thanks man,” Ashton sighs.

Calum bumps his knee against Ashton’s, the barstool squeaking beneath him. “Ash, you’re gonna find somebody if that’s what you want. Anyone would be the luckiest person alive to be with you. Maybe we could do Italy after the tour wraps, we’ll finish in Spain so it won’t be far.”

The thought cheers Ashton a bit; that’s a decent amount of time to get on AirBnB and see what he can find that’s available. It’ll be nice to have something to look forward to, Italian sunshine and limoncello and the quiet.

“Mike and Luke will definitely give us shit though about planning another honeymoon while we’re still on this one,” Calum says.

“Let ‘em,” says Ashton.

*

It’s not a long flight but it’s a bit of a drive from there to get to the cabin. But Calum said he wanted something remote and quiet, so it’s worth the wait, the drive in the dark. There’s moonlight, anyway, and Calum took the wheel, getting them the rest of the way there in their little silver Prius rental. He puts on My Bloody Valentine and sings along, low and comforting to listen to after so many days straight of playing, of promo. Halfway through the trip Ashton thinks he sees a shooting star, maybe thought he dreamed it until he felt Calum’s soft nudge of knuckles against his arm, heard his quiet, “You see that, bro?”

The way gets bumpy, thick with trees, dark and hard to navigate once they turn off the main road. At the end of it all there’s the cabin, looming in the dark, lights left on for them and the key exactly where it’s supposed to be. It’s past one a.m. but they still give the place a wander, stopping at the largest bedroom facing the lake. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows Ashton sees trees, darkness, the black glitter of water under starlight. Calum asks, “You want this one?”

Ashton looks further and just sees more darkness. “It’s kind of unnerving at night,” he says. “Anyone could be out there.” The other bedroom has smaller windows, but the point stands. “Do you wanna just watch TV or something in here and then decide?”

“If we get axe murdered here I hope our ghosts come back and leave a one star review,” Calum says, but he’s already shrugging his duffel off his shoulders and kicking off his shoes.

The host left them a bottle of pinot grigio so Ashton pours up a few glasses while Calum strips down to his boxers and gets in bed. The boxers have cartoon pugs all over them. “I can’t believe that’s the lingerie you’re wearing for our honeymoon,” Ashton says, handing him a glass. “I also can’t believe those boxers even exist.”

Calum raises it to him in a salute and takes a sip. “These boxers are fantastic, but I guess if you want me to take them off…” he trails off, eyebrow raised, thumb hooked in the waistband pushing them down past his hipbone, then further until Ashton can see the crease of his thigh.

“No, no,” Ashton says hurriedly, “I’m just saying, what’s wrong with a nice pair of footie pajamas? Keeps you warm. Keeps you modest.” Nevertheless he shucks his own clothes except for his own (very grown-up, perfectly normal, in a flattering shade of dark green) boxers and joins Calum in bed. Calum’s already stopped paying attention to him, too busy trying to figure out how to work the remote. He finally gets the screen to flash on, and Ashton stays quiet, sipping his wine while Calum flips channels, finally landing on something in black and white. Cary Grant comes on screen but Ashton still isn’t sure what movie it is; Calum seems interested enough, setting the remote down between them, so he doesn’t complain. The wine goes down easy and Ashton does too after not too long.

He rolls onto his side and sees that Calum’s eyes are already closed. It doesn’t look like he’s asleep yet; it always takes him a bit, leaving him in a dozy stage for about ten minutes during which he might respond crankily to any communication or with adorable mumbling affection. Ashton turns the sound down and says, as quietly as he can, “TV off?” Calum’s eyes don’t open, but he nods a little. “Okay. You want me to go sleep in the other room?”

Calum moves then, a sleepy shift of his body, fumbling a hand up and blindly patting the sheet until he makes contact with Ashton’s hand on the remote and squeezes it, links their fingers together like he can’t quite figure out how to make it work. It feels nice. “’S’okay,” he murmurs. “Stay here.”

Ashton didn’t feel like getting up anyway.

[sunsetinmyvein]

You Pick a Fight - P3

I have long since forgotten what prompts from the prompt list that we used for this, but as requested by @imagine-that-100​, the third and final part of You Pick a Fight. Enjoy!

True to his word, Matty absolutely did give me hell for everything I had said and done while in hospital. Word spread pretty fast in our circle of friends about how soft I had remarked his hair was, much to my dismay. But my thumb survived, and that was the main concern. I could tolerate the berating for the sake of still having all of my digits. And to be fair, Matty was very helpful in hospital that day, as much as he didn’t tell anyone else about that half of the story. A part of my anaesthesia haze ramblings stayed with me even past that hectic evening. I suddenly felt like I gave that man too much grief throughout our friendship, maybe a few of my pranks were edging on too mean. Not that I was going to give up entirely on that side of our friendship, but I definitely had a feeling that it was time to pull back from how intense they had been becoming.  When every interaction between us wasn’t laced with sarcasm and spent looking over your shoulder for what could be coming next, spending time with Matty was actually… fairly pleasant? I found myself actually wanting to be around him.

“Mattyyyy.” I spoke into my phone as I propped it up between my shoulder and my ear.

“Yes?” His voice crackled back down the line.

“I need to ask you a favour.” I started. At this point, Matty was no stranger to my random phone calls for help. I mean, come on, he was rolling in it and had connections everywhere, I wasn’t just going to let that go to waste.

“Mm?”

“My high school reunion is coming up…” I stared at the invitation stuck to my fridge.

“And?” He prompted.

“And it would feel extremely vindicating to have a nice date to rub in everyone’s faces.” I finally suggested. Making this call wasn’t easy, I didn’t like the connotations that came with asking this. But, I did really like the connotations that came with rocking up with Matthew Healy in tow. And if I had to go, I wanted to have some fun with it.

  There was a pause, and I wasn’t sure if he’d heard me at first. “Ooo, I’m not sure.” He eventually said, sounding like he was thinking on it. “But I can see why you’d ask.” He added.

“What?” I frowned in confusion, not that he could see my expression anyway.

“I mean, why wouldn’t you want to be seen with someone as drop dead gorgeous as me?” He said. I gave a snort of laughter in response, but he didn’t continue any further.

I let out a deep sigh, then said the thing I knew would get him to go, “There’s an open bar.”

“I’ll be there.” He replied instantly.

“Great. Thanks.” I nodded.

“My pleasure.” I could just see his shit eating grin through the phone. Hopefully this idea didn’t backfire on me.

  * * *

  After a few weeks, the fateful evening rolled around. As promised, Matty drove round to my place, dressed very smartly in a nice button down. Which, after the crocs getup I’d seen him in literally the day prior, this was a vast improvement. But I couldn’t help but notice the bags under his eyes, and the way his eyelids drooped.

“Are… are you feeling okay?” I asked apprehensively as I let him in.

“Huh?” He seemed pretty out of it.

“How long has it been since you’ve sleep?” I asked with a short laugh.

“A week?” He answered, seeming entirely serious about his answer.

“Jesus, Matty. Why? What’s keeping you up?” I asked in concern, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Erm… Album stuff, you know.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

“Are you sure you’re good to go to this thing?” He looked in no state to be on a night out. But as soon as I questioned his ability to attend, he perked up.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be fine.” He nodded quickly, running a hand through his messy curls. As much as he’d dressed up, it seemed that there was no controlling that hair of his. “C’mon, let’s go.” He said as he gestured back to the door.

  We ordered an Uber, neither of us wanting to commit to being the designated driver and passing up on the free booze. Once we had clambered inside, I laid down a few ground rules about what to tell people if they asked. All the stuff about how we met, why we got together, the things that we had to make sure to agree on to get our story straight and seem believable.

“All right, so I’d appreciate if you tried to be a bit more tactful than usual.” I ended my spiel, giving him a serious look.

“Be as embarrassing as possible, got it.” He said with a firm nod.

“Can you please just listen to me for once?” I said as I rolled my eyes.

“Or-” He said, pointing a finger at me for emphasis, “I could not listen to you, and we could pull many fantastic pranks at this stuffy party.” He suggested.

I thought on this for a moment. “What did you have in mind?” I asked with an eyebrow raised.

“We can raise hell together - spike the punch, spread rumours, heckle the speeches, that sort of thing.” He elaborated with a devious smile.

The offer was tempting, but then I remembered that I was meant to be making a good impression. “No, no. I just… would rather be quietly impressive instead of causing a scene like we usually do.” I said, tearing my gaze away from him and looking back out the window.

“Whatever you say.”

  When we rocked up at my old high school, it probably shouldn’t have surprised me that everything looked exactly the same as what it did when I was a student. The buildings were a slight bit more run down, the signs were starting to wear away, it was nostalgic in a very uncomfortable way. We followed the small arrows staked in the ground, making our way through the school to where the reunion was being held. As we approached the doors, Matty stopped me, looping his arm with mine with a smile before walking in. The gesture instantly reminded me of why I had been worried about asking him to come as my faux date. Other than him getting the wrong idea, I didn’t want to dredge up any repressed feelings since that day in the hospital a few months ago. This thought was quickly squashed once we stepped into the room and had the tacky decorations shoved right into our faces. I had no idea what theme they were trying to achieve, but if it was ‘awkward high school disco’ they had successfully done it. However, I was pretty chuffed with the stares that we were getting as we walked through the room. By the look of the whispers that I saw being passed around, clearly Matty was recognised. Most of the people I had spotted I didn’t overly want to talk to, so I was glad to have brought a plus one that I could hang out with to avoid stifled pleasantries with people I’d not seen in over a decade.

  “Why is there a deer in the room?” Matty whispered in my ear as he gestured to the large buck that was sectioned off in the corner.

“School mascot.” I answered.

“What?” He asked with a frown.

“The football team, they’re called the bucks or something.” I explained, pointing out a banner on the wall with the cartoon version of the animal.

“So… they have a deer? A real live deer?” He continued with an incredulous laugh.

“Yep.” I nodded.

“Let’s go tie shit on its antlers.” He said eagerly, attempting to drag me towards the animal.

“No.” I quickly hissed, pulling him back towards the bar. “Let’s go get a drink.” I offered instead.

  With a drink in hand, Matty was much easier to keep under control. We drifted around to a few conversations, dropping stories of accomplishments and various other brag worthy things. After about half an hour, though, he started to get restless.

“Hey, where’s the woodshop?” He asked quietly as his eyes darted around the room.

“Why do you want to know?” I asked back, narrowing my eyes in suspicion.

“No reason.” He said with a shrug. “What about the art room?” He questioned with a smile playing on his lips.

“What are you scheming?” I accused.

“Nothing!” He threw his hands up in defence. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom and then get another drink. You want one?” He asked.

I stared at him for a moment, trying to work out what idea was turning over in that head of his. “Sure.” I conceded, watching as he strolled off.

  I was apprehensive about letting him wander off alone, what with his track record. But I had no reason to stop him. Once left to my own devices, I had to begrudgingly start conversations with my old classmates alone. I didn’t realise how much I missed having Matty to bounce off of in conversation until he wasn’t there. The time ticked by, and he still hadn’t returned. When I finally felt the need to go looking for Matty in case he got lost, I spotted him on the other side of the room sparking up conversation with a group of people. He looked very animated in whatever story he was telling, and then I saw him gesture to his thumb. Oh, no.

“Whatever he’s saying, he’s lying!” I called out, interrupting the person who had been speaking to me. Matty, clearly hearing my voice, looked up and waved with a smirk.

“Why did you even come with him if you were worried about his behaviour?” The guy I was speaking to huffed.

“I’m starting to forget.” I muttered, making my way through the crowd to work out what on earth he was saying. When I made my way to the small crowd that had formed around him, he was indeed telling the story about how I’d nearly cut off my thumb. However, he was telling it in a way I hadn’t heard before. He was embellishing the details about how helpful he was, about how happy I’d been to see him when I woke up, instead of his usual speech about how embarrassing it was for me. It felt pretty heart-warming to actually hear him acknowledge the other side of that night.

“That’s so sweet of you!” One of the girls from my English class cooed.

“She’s worth it.” Matty replied as he planted a kiss on my cheek. I instantly felt myself burning up, before plastering a smile on my face to try and keep up the charade I had concocted.

  When I finally pried him away from his crowd, we went to go get another drink. What was the point of an open bar if you didn’t take advantage of it?

“You really think I’d throw you under the bus in front of your own classmates?” He asked as he nudged me in the ribs playfully.

“I just never know with you sometimes.” I chuckled as I grabbed a bottle of cider. “Are you feeling better, then?” I added, noting his much more jovial appearance than when I first saw him today.

“Hm?” He questioned as he took a swig from his drink.

“You looked pretty sleep deprived when you rocked up at mine earlier today.” I clarified.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Much better.” He nodded, glancing down at his dress shoes.

“What’s been keeping you up?” I asked in curiosity, starting to walk back over to the centre of the room.

“Well, if I’m honest-”

“All right everyone, take your seats.” A voice interrupted over the loud speakers.

  Right, the speeches. People who had been notable in high school had been asked if they wanted to stand up and tell people all about where they were at now. Thank fuck I hadn’t been picked for that. We began shuffling over to the lined-up seats at the front of the room near the stage, Matty and I happily taking a spot near the back. As the speakers went to sit down in their chairs on the stage, all of the legs collapsed beneath them, sending the six people up there sprawling onto the wooden floor. A few quiet laughs came from the crowd. But I recognised that handiwork.

“Did you do that?” I asked, turning to Matty.

“I have no idea why you’d suspect me.” He answered, clearly trying (and failing) not to smile.

“Is that why you were asking about the woodshop?” I realised, my voice growing in volume slightly as it clicked in my head. Someone shushed me from the row behind us.

“I’m sorry, I don’t speak dumbass.” He shrugged.

“Real mature.” I mumbled, turning back to the stage to see them bringing new chairs over. He just wrapped an arm around my shoulder and pulled me into his side.

  After that, the speeches continued without a hitch. I had to admit, at least Matty’s antics had brought some fun to the dull event. Because besides the chairs collapsing, the hour-long spectacle nearly put me to sleep. Once they’d finished up, they began playing the music a bit louder than what they had been and packed the chairs in front of the stage away, encouraging people to use it as a dancefloor.

“Do you have any idea on how frustrating you can really be?” I frowned as we made our way over to the corner of the room to speak without people overhearing us. “You could’ve hurt someone.”

“Come ooooon.” He said, rolling his eyes. “You know you want to make this place a bit livelier. You’re never gonna see these people again, right?” He continued, leaning against a rail.

“Right.” I agreed.

“So, let’s have some fun.” He grinned. “You know we make a good team.”

I thought about it for a moment, and he had a point. This event was pretty boring, and we were a good team. Matty had been going out of his way tonight to do what I had asked of him, the least I could do was let him get some enjoyment too. “Fine.” I agreed. Watching as the large buck began chewing on Matty’s arm. “You might wanna keep an eye on your jacket, though.” I said as I gestured to the animal.

“Huh? Oh, wha- Hey!” He shouted as he yanked his sleeve out of the deer’s mouth.

  Once he had been given permission, Matty kicked into full prank mode. Shoelaces were tired together under tables, lettering on signs were rearranged, jackets and hats mysteriously changed tables. Most of what he wanted to do was harmless fun, and it was entertaining to watch him dart around the room and work his magic. Tonight was actually turning out to be pretty fun. I had thought that maybe Matty might feel awkward about it, or maybe I’d feel awkward about it, but things were going really well. It was nice to get the chance to have an evening with just him. Normally it was a group of us and I always felt mildly attention seeking for taking up his time. To have his undivided attention for the whole night left me with a warm feeling. Matty eventually wore himself out, and guests were beginning to get suspicious of the guy who seemed to constantly be in the background of every minor inconvenience. When he seemed satiated prank wise, he managed to con me into getting onto the dancefloor with him. Normally I’d be pretty intimidated about dancing in front of such a judging crowd, but between the good company and the many drinks I’d had, I didn’t really care.

  Suddenly, a bunch of glitter starting spewing out through the vents onto the dance floor. The music stopped, drawing everyone’s attention up to the sparkly downfall. To be honest, this looked far better than any theming the school had done themselves. But I knew this was not something that they had planned.

“I admit, this is pretty impressive.” I said quietly to Matty, who just had a very proud smile.

“See? I told you that we should raise hell.” He laughed loudly.

“I guess it was pretty fun.” I confessed.

“You should really listen to me more.” He said softly, taking my hand in his. I watched the glitter fall for a moment, before looking back down to see him still staring at me. I frowned at him, waiting for him to say something. “You have the cutest smile I’ve ever seen right now.”

“You’re looking pretty starry-eyed yourself there, mister.” I shot back, figuring that he was joking.

“Well, it’s hard not to be when you’ve got the best date in the room.” He added, tugging on my hand, pulling me closer to him.

“Wasn’t that meant to be my plan?” I said with a chuckle.

“After speaking to your classmates, I’m pretty sure you got it backwards.” He answered as I placed a hand on his shoulder.

  A moment or two passed before Matty took in a deep breath. “I was up all week because I was worried about ruining this for you.” He blurted out. “I didn’t want to be a disappointment.”

“You’d never disappoint me.” I dismissed.

“Things are always more daunting when you’re doing them with someone that you’re into, you know.” He explained.

“I… you… what?” In my surprise, I couldn’t get my words out right. Had he not been kidding for the last five minutes with everything that he was saying? A lot of moments over the last six months suddenly made a lot more sense.

“You’re not getting me to say it twice.” He said with a small smile.

“How long?” Was all I could manage to ask.

“For ages.” He said simply. “Why do you think I stayed with you in the hospital? Why do you think I spend so much time with you? Why do you think I bother you so much? You think that it’s me who’s teasing you to the guys, but it’s them teasing me about you.” He answered.

  Everything that I had felt in the hospital was now in the forefront of my mind. Maybe I hadn’t been so crazy to want to flirt with Matty then. Certainly, in this moment, his confession had my heart rate picking up and my mind reeling. “Then what was with all the pranks?” I said, shoving his shoulder slightly.

“Kept your attention, didn’t it?” He chuckled.

“I suppose so.” I agreed. “I think I’m into you too.” I said quietly.

“I know.” He nodded.

“What?”

“You told me so when you first woke up in hospital. You slept for a few hours after that, though.” He elaborated. “You don’t remember?”

I shook my head, but for what I did remember, if I had said that, it made sense. “So… is this a real date then?” I asked out of curiosity.

“It can be.” He shrugged.

“I’d like that.” I smiled, leaning up slightly to catch him off guard and kiss him briefly. “But first, we’d better get out of here before they realise what you did.”

Part One

Part Two

[delightfullyatomicfest]

John interviewed in Melody Maker, 6 December 1969

Last week I spent some time with John, during which he told me the truth about the early days, the current relationships within The Beatles, and his consequent need for independence, and a host of other subjects. We begin with the group’s rise to fame, and John’s feelings about the way it was achieved. 

“In the beginning it was a constant fight between Brian [Epstein] and Paul on one side and me and George on the other,” he told me. “Brian put us in neat suits and shirts, and Paul was right behind him. I didn’t dig that, and I used to try and get George to rebel with me. I’d say to him, ‘Look, we don’t need these suits. Let’s chuck them out of the window.’ My rebellion was to have my tie loose, with the top button of my shirt undone, but Paul’d always come up to me and put it straight. 

“I saw a film the other night, the first television film we ever did. The Granada people came down to film us, and there we were in suits and everything - it just wasn’t us, and watching that film I knew that that was where we started to sell out. We had to do a lot of selling out then. Taking the MBE was a sell-out for me. You know, before you get an MBE the Palace writes to you to ask if you’re going to accept it, because you’re not supposed to reject it publicly and they sound you out first. 

“I chucked the letter in with all the fanmail, until Brian asked me if I had it. He and a few other people persuaded me that it was in our interests to take it, and it was hypocritical of me to accept it. But l’m glad, really, that I did accept it- because it meant that four years later I could use it to make a gesture. 

“We did manage to refuse all sorts of things that people don’t know about. For instance, we did the Royal Variety Show once, and we were asked discreetly to do it every year after that- but we always said, ‘Stuff it.’ So every year there was always a story in the newspapers saying ‘Why No Beatles For The Queen?’, which was pretty funny, because they didn’t know we’d refused it. 

“That show was a bad gig anyway. Everybody’s very nervous and uptight, and nobody performs well. The time we did do it, I cracked a joke onstage. I was fantastically nervous but I wanted to say something, just to rebel a bit, and that was the best I could do.” 

Was there, in fact, anything at all that he enjoyed about the years of Beatlemania? 

“Oh sure. I dug the fame, the power, the money, and playing to big crowds. Conquering America was the best thing. You see, we wanted to be bigger than Elvis - that was the main thing. At first we wanted to be Goffin & King, then we wanted to be Eddie Cochran, then we wanted to be Buddy Holly, and finally we arrived at wanting to be bigger than the biggest - and that was Elvis. 

“We reckoned we could make it because there were four of us. None of us would’ve made it alone, because Paul wasn’t quite strong enough, I didn’t have enough girl appeal, George was too quiet, and  Ringo was the drummer. But we thought that everyone would be able to dig at least one of us, and that’s how it turned out.” 

When John returned his MBE in protest against Britain’s involvement in the Vietnam and Biafra conflicts, he added, “And against ‘Cold Turkey’ slipping down the charts.” 

Does that mean that “Cold Turkey” is a specially important record for you? 

“Yes, because it’s MY record. When I wrote it I went to the other three Beatles and said, ‘Hey lads, I think I’ve written a new single.’ But they all said, ‘Ummm... arrrrrr. . . welll. . .’ because it was going to be my project, and so I thought, ‘Bugger you! I’ll put it out myself.’ 

That had happened once before, when I wanted to put ‘Revolution’ out as a single, but ‘Hey Jude’ went out instead.” 

Does that mean that Plastic Ono Band is, for John, a kind of alternative Beatles, particularly in view of Ringo’s refusal to go on tour again? 

“Yes, I suppose so. It’s a way of getting my music out to the public. I don’t bother so much about the others’ songs. For instance, I don’t give a damn about how ‘Something’ is doing in the charts - I watch ‘Come Together’, because that’s my song.” 

Can he ever conceive of a time when he wouldn’t want his songs to be on the same album as Paul’s or George’s? 

“I can see it happening. The Beatles can go on appealing to a wide audience as long as they make albums like Abbey Road, which have nice little folk songs like ‘Maxwell’s Silver Hammer’ for the grannies to dig. 

“About ‘Maxwell’s Hammer’ - well, all I can say is that I dig Engelbert Humperdinck as much as I dig John Cage, and I don’t listen to either of them,” he said with a marvellously relevant irrelevance. “I always wanted to have other people on our records, like the Stones and our other friends. But some of the others wanted to keep it tight- just like The Beatles, you know? But you wait - it’s starting to get looser, and there should be some fantastic sessions in the next few years. That’s what I wanted all along.” 

Going back to the past, did he enjoy doing The Beatles’ two films, Help! and A Hard Day's Night ? 

“I dug Hard Day's Night, although Alun Owen only came with us for two days before he wrote the script. He invented that word ‘grotty’ - did you know that? We thought the word was really weird, and George curled up with embarrassment every time he had to say it. But it’s part of the language now-you hear society people using it. Amazing. 

“Help! was a drag, because we didn’t know what was happening. In fact [Richard] Lester was a bit ahead of his time with the Batman thing, but we were on pot by then and all the best stuff is on the cutting-room floor, with us breaking up and falling about all over the place.” 

The present: has Allen Klein made an agreeable difference to Apple, which was bothering John the last time I spoke to him? 

“Oh, it’s really marvellous. People were very scared of him to start with - and some still are - but that’s probably good. He’s swept out all the rubbish and the deadwood, and stopped it being a resthouse for all the world’s hippies. He won’t let people order antique furniture for their offices and so forth; he’s really tightened it up and it’s starting to work a lot better. 

“He’s noticed that The Beatles had stopped selling records as they were doing around the world, and he found out that it was because the record company simply wasn’t bothering to push them. They thought that our records would sell themselves, and they were wrong. They don’t. If you can get to No 1 in Turkey, Greece, Switzerland and a couple of other countries then that’s as good financially as getting a No 1 in Britain - they don’t realise that. 

“Klein’s very good - he’s going to make sure they stop sitting on the records and actually release them. He’s even keeping tabs on me - I usually make mistakes about who to get in to survey my house, and I can spend a fortune without getting anything done. He’s making sure that I do it the right way.” 

Richard Williams 

Melody Maker, 6 December 1969. 

Source: https://archive.org/stream/TheHistoryOfRock1969/TheHistoryOfRock1969_djvu.txt

Quoted in Rolling Stone in December 1969: https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-news/beatles-splitting-maybe-says-john-182489/

Lots of this is quoted on the John Lennon website here: http://www.johnlennon.com/news/cold-turkey-plastic-ono-band/

[pop-punklouis]

Hi Hope!

A few days ago i saw someone asked you about luke hemmings' new song? starting line? and you said you weren't that into it and it sounded a bit like 5sos... now haha i never really listened to 5sos and i liked the two songs he's dropped so far so, i wanted to ask if the songs are really that alike to what he does in 5sos? bc if they are, i might do like the band too and i was curious about your take on it bc you have such good tastee

anyways, i hope you're okay, sending hugs! ❤️

hi bb!

i’ll be honest, i’ve just gotten around to listening to his second single “motion.” i didn’t realize he had released it until your message, actually.

it’s a verrrrrry different vibe and energy for this single for sure, and i dig it a lot more. whereas “starting line” felt like a 5sos b-side to me— nothing too memorable although promising in areas, “motion” feels languid and full of texture. it gives me strong wallows, vampire weekend, and tommy english influences. ELO def thrown in as well for the turbulent soundscape that was a very, very enjoyable ride.

i’m more or less a fan of 5sos’ music! theyre alt-pop/rock. their sound has evolved a lot since they first came on the scene which is to expected (even though i have a very soft spot for their debut LP and the early 2000s, pop rock fizz that enveloped their music). i wasn’t the biggest supporter of their newest album, CALM, even tho i appreciate them trying to experiment a bit. it just fell flat imo. sooo, i would suggest Youngblood as the record to really find similarities in with Luke’s “Starting Line.” that’s probably the most solid project they’ve had all the way through, and that’s the record i felt nostalgia for when listening to SL.

when i say i didn’t care much for the song because it sounded like 5sos, i meant it more in the sense that it was very underwhelming. to see a member from a group embark on a solo project, i’d love to hear the originality of that one member + their taste instead of a rehashing of the band i know them from! like when the drummer, Ashton Irwin, released his solo project Superbloom last year, i was blown the fuck away. i still come back to that record. the trippy psych-rock haze it all is. the way the experimental soundscape is so particular and identifying with him…. it’s fantastic. and i think i went into Luke’s solo project with that same expectation. regardless! i do feel like SL was a smart albeit safe single to dip his toes into the water and warm up his pre-existing fans to his solo music with it having flares of 5sos in its foundation.

so now, with the release of “motion” and it’s departure from the sound of “starting line,” i’m becoming more and more intrigued with how his project will sound altogether. it feels promising for sure!!

[bitchin-beskar]

love story

Rating: M (this was only supposed to have a little bit of smut, but... uh... I have no self control, apparently) 

Warnings: smut. and apparently a breeding kink? i guess? who knows. certainly not me. 

Word Count: 3k

Paring: Frankie x Reader

A/N: so I was listening to the folklore album, and I just couldn’t stop thinking about Frankie, so I impulsively decided to ignore my other WIPs for the night and instead write a marriedlife!drabble that takes place after the events of my folklore story. If you wanna re-read any of those chapters, they’re listed both in original posting order and chronological order on my masterlist, here. Enjoy my shameless self-indulgent ramblings!

Also, shameless shoutout to @mxndoscyarika, who’s my partner-in-crime when it comes to PNW!Frankie, her and I spent a fair bit of time rambling about all the things Frankie would love in the PNW, and Seattle, Washington specifically. It was those ramblings that helped inspire this fic! Check out some of her work!

Also, also, another shameless shoutout to @perropascal who fangirls with me about Frankie and Taylor Swift all the time. She’s got her own folklore fic with Frankie that y’all should definitely check out, along with some amazing stuff for Pedro’s other characters!

Also, also, also, I had the privilege of seeing Hamilton at the Paramount in Seattle in 2018, and it was an amazing experience, and I think some of that excitement shows in this story... sorry not sorry. 

Tags: @theocatkov, @cosmicbug379, @marydjarin, @perropascal, @mxndoscyarika, @hayley-the-comet, @phoenixhalliwell, @ahopelessromanticwritersworld, @cryptkeepersoul

Please fill out this survey if you’d like to be tagged in any future works!

Biting your lip, you danced around your room in excitement, eagerly throwing the last of your toiletries in the duffel bag. You’d been hoping that you’d be able to surprise Frankie while the two of you were on your anniversary trip, and it looked like things were gonna go the way you were hoping. 

A chuckle came from the doorway behind you, and you spun around, a sheepish grin on your face. Frankie stood in the doorway, his arms crossed over his green button-up, his tattered baseball cap dangling from one of his hands. 

His eyes were soft as he watched you, and when you turned to face him, he uncrossed his arms, holding one of his hands out to you. Taking it, he pulled you into a hug, tucking his face into the side of your neck, breathing deeply. 

You wrapped your arms around him, squeezing tightly. You tried to school your features into a more neutral mask, but you couldn’t help the secret smile that spread across your lips.

“What’s got you so excited, princesa?” 

You pulled back to look up at your husband, still in awe of the fact that you were actually married to this man, even though it had been three years already. 

“It’s our anniversary Francisco, I think I’m allowed to be a little excited.” 

Frankie looked down at you, sliding one of his hands into the back pocket of your jeans, tugging you closer against him. “Oh, you want to celebrate three years of being married to me? Is that a good thing?” 

The joking tone of his voice was clear, but you smacked him lightly upside the head anyways. “Of course it’s a good thing, Francisco,” you muttered, tugging gently on his hair to pull him down to your level so that you could kiss him. 

You’d intended for just a quick peck, but as you tried to pull away, Frankie cupped the back of your head and kept your lips pressed to his. You grinned, letting Frankie control the kiss for awhile before you finally–and reluctantly–pulled away. 

“Frankie, mmh– Francisco, we’re going to be late– for our flight–” You mumbled your protests as Frankie kept pressing kisses against your lips, trapping your words. You finally had to push on his chest with both your hands to get him to stop. “Frankie! I’m serious!” 

He grinned unashamedly. “I can always fly us there if we miss our plane, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not the point, Frankie.” 

***

Frankie had been the one to suggest Seattle, Washington for your anniversary this year. He’d spent some time there when he was a little boy, and he’d gone back a couple times as he’d gotten older, and he’d always had nothing but good things to tell you about the city. He loved the weather, the sights, the community, and you were excited to get to finally visit the place your husband loved so much.

The two of you had discussed the idea of moving in the not-so-distant future, and depending on how this trip went, you were thinking about suggesting Seattle as a possible location to look into. Your husband clearly loved it, and as long as you did too–which, to be honest, you were expecting to–then you’d have no problems moving to the Evergreen State.

The flight wasn’t too long, and before you knew it, you were landing at SeaTac International Airport. Frankie had graciously given you the window seat, and you were eagerly looking out the tiny airplane window, taking in the scenery. 

You were almost in a daze as Frankie led you through the airport, gathering your luggage and hailing a cab. From everything you’d heard, Washington sounded amazing, and you were so excited to get to experience all the sights. 

Frankie had planned the weekend for the two of you, eagerly describing all the different places he wanted to take you. Pike Place Market, The Space Needle, The Gum Wall, the Seattle Aquarium, and the Woodland Park Zoo were just a few of the things that Frankie wanted the two of you to do. 

He’d also told you that he had a surprise planned, and no matter how much you begged, he refused to tell you what it was. But, now you were mere hours from finding out, and it just added to your excitement. 

The ride wasn’t supposed to take very long, but with the Seattle traffic, a seventeen minute trip turned into an almost forty-five minute trip. Thankfully, the cabbie seemed used to the traffic, and he expertly drove through the confusing twists and turns of downtown Seattle. 

Arriving at the Hyatt Regency Hotel, Frankie tipped the cabbie generously, helping you to gather the luggage before heading in to check-in.

Looking around the lobby, you could immediately tell that it was a nicer hotel than the two of you usually stayed in. From the furniture to the chandeliers, everything felt very elegant and upper class. 

“Frankie, how expensive was this?” You hissed under your breath, feeling more than a little out of place. 

His hand was on the small of your back as he led you towards the reception desk. “Not as bad as you’re thinking, princesa, I promise. I know a guy from the military, he was able to get us a good deal.”

You quirked an eyebrow, but Frankie just smiled innocently. 

***

You were in shock. 

You stared at the two tickets Frankie had just handed you, your brain trying to process what your eyes were seeing.

“Hamilton?” You whispered. “You got us tickets to see Hamilton?” 

Your eyes darted up to see your husband standing in front of you, a guarded look on his face. “Are you... excited?”

The tickets fluttered to the ground as you threw yourself at Frankie, your arms winding around his neck and your lips crashing against his. 

He caught you easily, one arm wrapping around your waist as you wrapped both your legs around him. He held you up with ease, and you gripped his cheeks as you kissed him breathless. 

When you pulled away, his cheeks were flushed, and the look in his eyes as he gazed up at your face made you smile. “I’m ecstatic, I can’t even describe how happy I am.”

Frankie kissed you softly once more before letting you unwind your legs from around his waist, helping you to stand on solid ground. You pecked him quickly on the cheek before turning to bend down and grab the tickets from where you dropped them.

A sharp smack on your ass made you squeak, and you jumped, turning to glare at your husband’s mock-innocent look. “You’d better get ready, baby. We have dinner reservations in an hour, and then the play.”

You tried to maintain your glare, but it was impossible with how happy you were. You placed the tickets down on the bed before heading to your suitcase to grab a change of clothes.

***

The play had been amazing. There were no other words to describe it. The Paramount Theatre was beautiful, and the show was fantastic. The cast, the songs, the set, the acting, all of it was better than you’d ever dreamed. Along with the fact that you were getting to experience it with the love of your life made it one of the best nights you’d had in a long time. 

You’d even been able to participate in a stage-door experience, where you waited outside the stage exit to the street, and some of the actors came out to sign programs. 

The entire walk back to the hotel–which, granted, was only about five minutes–you ranted to Frankie about all of the things you loved from the play. He hummed and hawed as you talked, letting you ramble. Whenever you got excited like this, it was easier to let you rant for a little bit to get the excitement out of your system before trying to actually carry on a conversation. 

You’d run out of steam by the time the two of you had gotten into an elevator, and you turned to Frankie. “What did you think?” You asked, a breathless grin overtaking your features. 

He stared at you for a moment, and you were about to repeat yourself when he cupped your cheeks and kissed you. 

This kiss was different, rougher, and more desperate than the kisses from earlier. You’d had many years to get to know all of Frankie’s kisses, and you knew exactly what this kiss meant. 

“Frankie!” You gasped, panting as his lips left yours, instead latching onto the skin over your pulse. “Frankie, we’re in a public elev–” you cut off, moaning as your husband’s wandering hands groped at your ass, kneading the flesh over the fabric of your dress. 

He pulled away abruptly, leaving you wanting. You stared up at him, the dark look in his eyes going straight to your core, leaving you rubbing your thighs together to try and get some relief. 

The doors opened with a soft ding, startling the two of you. Thankfully, you didn’t encounter anyone in the hallway, and you were able to enter your room without having to answer any awkward questions.

You barely had time to drop your clutch on a side table before Frankie was on you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he renewed his attack on your neck, grinding his erection into your ass. 

Tilting your head to allow him better access, you ran your fingers through his hair, tugging at the strands as he nipped at your skin with his teeth. His hands roamed over your dress, cupping your breasts and dipping under your skirt to cup your pussy through your rapidly-soaking panties.

The moans leaving your lips are rapidly growing in volume. Frankie knows just how to touch you to make you scream and he’s already causing the heat in your belly to pool, the tightening in your core causing you to whimper and moan.

“Sweetheart, if you don’t want this dress to get ruined, you should take it off.” 

You grin at the heat in your husband’s voice, reaching behind you to grip the zipper, lowering it slowly. You allow the dress to slowly slide off your form, your grin widening at the frustrated growl behind you.

As the dress finally pools at your feet, Frankie grips you around the waist and bodily throws you on the bed, his fingers undoing the buttons on his dress shirt as he stalks after you. He sheds his shirt, and quickly strips off his dress pants, leaving him in just his boxers.

You smirk at your husband as he climbs onto the bed and on top of you, his body pressing yours down into the mattress. He claims your lips again, and you gladly surrender to him. Everything he’s done for you, already this weekend is perfect, and it’s only the first night. 

You’re so giddy, so amazingly content, you decide that now is the perfect time to give Frankie his present. You push gently on his bare chest, getting him to back off for just a moment.

“I want to give you your anniversary present,” You murmur, smiling at the confused look that flashes across Frankie’s face.

“Really, baby? Right now?” He emphasizes his words by grinding into you, and you have to bite your lip to hold back a moan.

“Yes, Francisco, now. It’s not something you can unwrap, though.” He looks down at you, confused. “We’ve talked about it before, and we never really decided to try, but, um...” You take one of Frankie’s hands and bring it to rest over your bare stomach. “In about nine months, you’re gonna be a daddy.”

Your eyes eagerly watch Frankie’s face for his reaction, and you’re not disappointed. His eyes widen in shock, darting between your face and his hand on your stomach, and you watch as a hopeful smile grows on his face. 

“R–Really? You’re–You’re pregnant? We’re gonna have a–a baby?” 

When you nod, Frankie kisses you harshly, pressing his lips so tightly against yours, you’re almost worried the skin might bruise, before he pulls away, crawling down your body so his face is level with your stomach. 

“Hi, baby,” he whispers, and you feel tears spring to your eyes. “I’m your daddy.” His voice is breathless, and you feel wet droplets on your skin from his tears. You run your fingers through his hair, cradling his head as he speaks to your unborn child.

“You better treat your mama real good, you hear me? She loves you so, so much already, and she’s gonna bring you into this world, so you’ve gotta be real nice to her.” 

Now you’re crying, hearing Frankie speak to your baby with such love and devotion, you can’t even begin to put your joy into words. You’d had no doubts that Frankie would be anything other than absolutely thrilled, but hearing him speak brings it home that you both really are excited beyond belief. 

Frankie crawls back up the bed, kissing you again and again and again. “You’re amazing, mi amor.” His voice is reverent, adoring, and filled with desire. “God, I want you so much.” 

He pauses, his eyes dropping to your belly, and you can see the unspoken fear in his dark eyes. “Frankie, Francisco, look at me,” you grip his chin, forcing his gaze back to you. “Sex isn’t going to hurt the baby.” 

“You promise?”

You chuckle softly. “I promise. Sex can be really beneficial for pregnant women.” 

He raises an eyebrow, almost incredulously. When you nod, reassuring him once more, his grin in response is almost feral. 

“You’re having my baby.” 

The possessive tone in your husband’s voice sends shivers down your spine. He’d talked about wanting kids before, but this... this was new. And you most certainly weren’t going to complain. 

He rolled the two of you suddenly, so that you were straddling his waist as he lay on the bed. He plucked at the ties on the sides of your underwear. “I’ve gotta say, I really like these,” he muttered, quickly undoing the ties, helping you to remove the offending undergarments. 

They end up somewhere on the floor, but you’re not really focused on their final location. Instead, your attention is captured by your husband as he helps you slowly sink down on his cock. 

You both groan in unison as he’s seated fully inside you. You stay still on top of him for a moment, still not used to his size, no matter how long the two of you have been doing this. 

Frankie’s fingers are slowly stroking over the skin of your belly, and you bite your lip, looking down to see him staring at the path his fingers are taking. 

“Fuck,” he whispers. “You’re pregnant. With my baby.” 

You clench your inner muscles, smirking at the groan that leaves his lips. “Do you like that? Do you like that you got me pregnant?” Frankie’s hips give an involuntary little thrust, and it’s your turn to moan. 

“Yeah, I did, didn’t I?” Frankie’s words are distant, almost like he’s not even talking to you, but muttering to himself. He thrusts up again, and you gasp, again. “I got you pregnant.” Another thrust. “You’re gonna have my kid.” His next thrust is harder, and you bounce slightly on his lap. 

“Oh god, Frankie,” your moan is loud, and unashamed. You don’t care who hears, you’re not focused on anything other than your husband. 

His hands grip your hips, guiding you to ride him, bouncing you on his lap. “That’s it, sweetheart. Fuck, you feel so good, look so pretty riding my cock.” You throw your head back, raking your nails down Frankie’s chest as you’re chasing your release. 

“‘M gonna watch your belly get so big,” he murmured, his gaze focused on your stomach. “You’re gonna look radiant, baby. So pretty, so fucking gorgeous.” 

Your mouth falls open as he thrusts up harder while grinding you down as he does so. You unclasp your bra, throwing it off to the side as you play with your breasts, panting as your pleasure grows. 

Frankie sits up, nudging one of your hands away with his nose, taking your nipple into his mouth. You cup the back of his head as he suckles at your breast, your other hand resting on Frankie’s thigh as he continues to fuck you. 

Releasing your breast with a wet sound, he looks up at you, desire and wonder clear in his eyes. “Can’t wait to watch these grow fat with milk for our baby, princesa.” You whimper, both at his words and at the way he takes you back in his mouth. 

Frankie brings you closer to your release, only to slow just as you’re about to fall over the edge. You whimper, trying to grind down, trying to chase your release, but Frankie’s grip on your hips stills your movements. 

“Do you want to come, baby?”

You nod frantically, words escaping you as you try to encourage Frankie to let you come. 

“Really?”

“YES! Please, Frankie! Please!”

He chuckles, rolling the two of you over once again, not even pausing to allow you to adjust to the new position before he begins to thrust again. Your mouth falls open, panting breaths escaping as Frankie pounds into you.

Before you can really register, you’re at your peak once again, and you’re begging Frankie to allow you your release.

“Oh, oh god, Frankie please, let me come,” you’re clutching at his arms as he’s pounding into you, your back arching, you’re so close. 

Frankie bows his head, his dark eyes watching your writhing form. “Come for me, princesa. Come.”

You do, crying out loudly, nails digging into Frankie’s skin. He’s not far behind, thrusting a few more times before he’s coming inside you. 

His arms are straining with the effort to hold himself off you, and you gently guide him down, bringing him to lay against you, his face buried in your neck. His arms come up to embrace you, his lips pressing gentle kisses onto your skin. 

“I love you, so much, princesa.”

“I love you too, Frankie.”