#trying on nice dresses for concerts and such and i'm like damn :/ these are nice dresses why don't they look good on me even though they fi

[loverboybrightsideghost]

you ever just forget you're trans

[flowersandskeletons526]

"The Girl at the End of the Bar" - Warriors Concept Album Fanfic

How Fox came to meet the Warriors! I tried writing something happy and it took way longer than expected. Angst flows so much better through my fingers. Anyway, this is a bunch more headcanons as I flesh out the backstories more in my mind (I'm a bisexual-Cochise truther). I also just wanted to write the girls having fun and being in love for once. Enjoy!

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

Rembrandt stood in front of the bathroom mirror to put in her earrings. She put on a bit of eyeliner and mascara but no other makeup, which was still more than she ever wore in day to day life. Her outfit was a sleek black cocktail dress, on the simpler side compared to other going-out clothes she owned, but it was a casual night. Just her, Ajax, Cochise, and Cowgirl at one of the local lounges to decompress after a long week. They tried to convince Swan and Cleon to come to no avail. Buzzkills.

Ajax appeared in the mirror behind her. She leaned on the doorframe and gave a low whistle. “Damn, you should wear that more often,” she flirted.

Rembrandt smiled and rolled her eyes. “And try to tag a four story building in a dress? No thanks.”

“I didn’t mean when you’re tagging.” Ajax wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close and kissing the curve of her shoulder. “You look good. I like this on you.”

“Thank Cowgirl.”

“I will. Ready to go?”

Rembrandt turned in her arms. She undid a button on Ajax’s shirt and adjusted the rolled up sleeves so they looked intentional, because Ajax thought pushing them up like a cartoon tough guy actually worked. Hooking a finger through Ajax’s silver chain, she pulled her into a quick kiss. “Ready.”

“You’re gonna make me not want to leave the house,” Ajax said with a playful grin.

Rembrandt giggled and kissed her again. “Come on. You know Cochise hates when we’re late.”

“Alright, alright, let’s go.”

They passed Cleon and Swan sitting on the couch as they headed for the door. “Be safe, you two!” Cleon called.

“We will!” said Ajax. She grabbed her spiked leather jacket and held the door open for Rembrandt. Rembrandt waved to Cleon and Swan as the couple left.

Ajax held Rembrandt’s hand as they walked down the front steps like she was leading a princess, putting on a silly show of being a gentleman just to see her laugh. They walked with their arms linked through the streets of Coney Island, grinning at each other and laughing like lovesick teenagers, Rembrandt resting her head on Ajax’s shoulder as the enforcer went on about a new band she’d been wanting to see in concert. 

It was nice to have a break from business. It was nice to have Ajax smiling and having fun and being generally happy by her side without being prepared to stop a potential fight. Rembrandt loved being part of the Warriors, loved tagging, but fuck if some days didn’t spike her blood pressure higher than the damn Wonder Wheel. When Ajax scooped her up in her arms to carry her over the world’s smallest puddle in the name of being a good girlfriend, it was nice to just enjoy love and enjoy life. 

Cochise and Cowgirl were waiting outside their apartment for Rembrandt and Ajax to join them. Cochise wore simple torn up jeans and a dress vest with nothing but binding tape under it, and Cowgirl wore her hat as always and what was probably the most revealing dress Rembrandt had ever seen. 

Cowgirl hollered at them as they approached. “Girl, I told you that dress was the way to go!” she said as she hugged Rembrandt. 

“I wasn’t doubting it,” Rembrandt said.

“You totally were.”

“Are you guys ready to go?”

“We’ve been ready,” said Cochise. “We were waiting on you.”

“Then let’s go!”

Rembrandt could hear the music from the club a whole block away. The bouncer threw out a few friendly hellos as he let them in, flirting back and forth with Cowgirl before Cochise pulled her away. The club was already packed to probably well past the building’s safe capacity. A live band played on the elevated stage, hard rock and metal covers of pop songs, the lead singer a heavily tattooed woman with long braids and decked out entirely in leather and metal. Dancers weaved through the smoke around the band. People danced and laughed and pressed towards the front, men and women alike trying to get the frontwoman’s attention.

It wasn’t technically a queer club, but it was well known as a safe space for the community. Rembrandt had seen more than a few people be thrown out for saying certain words they shouldn’t. 

The crowd parted for them as they went to sit in a corner booth near the stage. They weren’t wearing their colors but most people knew their faces well enough. Ajax and Cochise went to get drinks, leaving Cowgirl and Rembrandt sitting together. Cowgirl sidled up beside her and reached over to tuck her hair behind her ear. 

“What did Ajax think of the dress?” she asked coyly. 

“She said I should wear it more often.”

“Told you she’d like it. She’s so down bad for you.”

Rembrandt chuckled. “You’re just realizing?”

“I figured it out before you did!” She tilted her head, smiling and waggling her fingers at someone in the crowd. “Just like I’m figuring out this pretty boy right now.”

Rembrandt followed her eyes and scoffed. “Him? Really?”

“Don’t give me that. What do you know about boys, anyway?”

“Me liking girls does not negate the fact that he’s wearing a sweater vest.”

“I like a sensitive guy. Not all of us fall for brawlers like Ajax. It’s the muscles, isn’t it?” she teased. 

Rembrandt blushed as said brawler slid into the booth beside her. “Whatcha girls talking about?”

“Rembrandt’s taste in women,” Cowgirl said before Rembrandt could respond.

“Yeah?” Ajax said, raising her eyebrows as she passed Rembrandt her drink. “And what exactly is your taste in women?”

“You, you dumbass.”

Ajax cackled, pulling Rembrandt tight against her side and kissing her neck as she laughed. Cowgirl made an exaggerated gagging noise.

“You two are so in love it’s gross. I’m gonna go talk to this guy.”

“And we lost her,” Cochise said, watching Cowgirl pull the pretty boy onto the dance floor. “Took, what, ten minutes?”

“Fifteen, I think,” said Rembrandt.

“Damn. Personal record.”

“Girl knows what she wants.”

A scruffy looking man walked by their booth. He stopped, did a double take, and came back to lean on the table. He smiled drunkenly, already plastered and definitely high on something as he eyed Rembrandt. “Good evening, ladies,” he began.

Ajax didn’t even have to move to make her point. “Keep it moving, man.”

“Understood.”

The Warriors waited until he disappeared into the throng of people before they burst out laughing. Rembrandt relaxed against Ajax, not joining in the conversation much but listening along, sipping her drink and holding Ajax’s hand where it rested on her shoulder. Ajax leaned down every now and then to kiss her cheek or tell her how beautiful she looked. Cochise watched them flirt with an easy smile. She’d always been happiest when the others were happy, too, Rembrandt had learned. She was a lot like Cleon in that way.

Someone approached their table. Rembrandt nudged Ajax as a tall, handsome person with an undercut and a lot of piercings smiled at Cochise. “Hey,” they said. “Sorry to interrupt y’all. I saw you across the room and-”

“Really liked my vibe?” Cochise finished sarcastically, but Rembrandt caught the way she looked the person up and down as she leaned in. “Isn’t that pickup line a little tired?”

“I like to think of it as tried and true,” the person said coolly. “Mind if I sit?”

“No she does not,” Rembrandt said as she stood, smiling at Cochise. “Ajax, come dance with me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Rembrandt tossed a little smirk over her shoulder as she and Ajax headed to the dance floor. Cochise was already too engrossed in conversation to notice. 

Rembrandt did actually want to dance, it just also happened to be a good excuse to set Cochise up. She settled against Ajax amidst the crowd, holding the enforcer’s hands where they rested on her hips, feeling their bodies move together as a heavy bassline pulsed through the club like a heartbeat. The singer’s raspy vocals floated above them. The band performed at the club before, and it was one of Rembrandt’s favorite songs that they covered. She let herself drift, focusing on the music and the warmth of Ajax’s touch through her dress and the electric thrum of energy through the club. 

Ajax was a great dancer, something that, for whatever reason, surprised Rembrandt the first time they went out together. Ajax was only a little offended when Rembrandt told her that. She said it was the same reason she was such a good fighter; she just knew how to move her body right.

As the music blasted, Ajax kissed the back of Rembrandt’s neck and spoke quietly in her ear. “Look at you playing matchmaker.”

“Cochise hasn’t even flirted with anyone since you had to beat up the last dipshit she dated. I just gave her a little push.”

Ajax chuckled. “Have I told you how gorgeous you are yet?”

“About ten times in the past thirty minutes.”

“Damn, I’m slackin’, then.”

With a grin, she spun Rembrandt and dropped her into a low dip, strong arms looped around her waist. Rembrandt let out a little yelp that turned into uncontrollable laughing. She clung to Ajax to keep herself up. “Ajax, you’re gonna drop me!”

“Aw, you’ve got no faith in me.” Ajax pulled her upright and kissed her. Rembrandt cupped Ajax’s face as a slower song came on, pressing their foreheads together, swaying gently in each other’s embrace. Ajax sighed as Rembrandt brushed her thumb over her cheek. “I needed this.”

“I did, too.”

“Want another drink?”

“Yes, please.”

Ajax kept an arm around Rembrandt’s waist as they walked to the bar. She leaned back against the counter while Ajax talked to the bartender, scanning over the crowd, keeping an eye out for any trouble that might start. Old habits die hard. Looking over to the other end of the bar, she took notice of a girl sitting on a bar stool, her hair done up in space buns, smiling shyly at some guy trying to talk to her. She held a beer bottle in both hands like a coffee mug, like she’d never drank before in her life. 

Wait.

“Ajax,” Rembrandt said, never taking her eyes off the girl. “Look at the girl at the end of the bar.”

“You’re checking out other girls?” Ajax joked.

Rembrandt lightly smacked her on the chest. “I’m serious. Look at her.”

Ajax looked. Her brow furrowed. “Oh, there is no fucking way she’s over twenty-one.”

“Follow my lead.”

Rembrandt pushed herself off the bar and weaved through the crowd to the other end where the girl sat. She came up alongside her, grabbing her arm, plastering a big grin across her face. The girl jumped just a little. The guy talking to her glared at Rembrandt.

“Oh my god, hey!” Rembrandt exclaimed. “Girl, you’re late, we’ve been waiting for you at the booth!” She shot the guy a dark look, still smiling. “Who’s this?”

The girl faltered. “Uh-”

Ajax leaned over Rembrandt’s shoulder, stepping up to the man just a little too close for comfort. “You don’t mind if we steal her, do you? It’s a girls night.” 

He backed up, clearing his throat. “Uh, n-no, no, I don’t mind. Nice meeting you,” he stammered, and hurried off with his tail between his legs. 

The Warriors stood over the girl, Ajax hanging back a bit so as to not completely terrify her as Rembrandt crossed her arms. The girl clutched her beer and laughed nervously as the pair stared her down. 

“Um, hey,” she said, “I appreciate you being a girl’s girl, but I was fine.”

“How old are you?” Rembrandt asked bluntly.

The girl faltered. She opened and closed her mouth, tilting her chin up and trying to put on a tough look that was almost laughable. “Old enough to be in here.”

“And by that, you mean pretty enough that the bouncer didn’t look too closely at your fake ID,” Ajax said. 

“What does it matter to you guys? What, are you the owners or something?”

Rembrandt raised her eyebrows. “What’s your name?”

“They call me Fox. Who are you?”

She nodded slowly. “Fox. It’s nice to meet you. That’s Ajax, and I’m Rembrandt.”

The girl’s eyes widened. Rembrandt could see the wheels turning in her head. “W-Wait, Rembrandt like, like the graffiti artist who runs with…?”

“Yeah. That Rembrandt.”

“Ah, shit. Listen, I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to cause any trouble, I just-”

“Kid, we’re not here to jam you up,” Ajax reassured. “But this is one of our favorite bars and you’re gonna get it raided so why don’t you step outside with us?”

Fox followed reluctantly. The three of them stepped around the corner, away from the entrance to the lounge. Ajax took off her leather jacket and put it around Rembrandt’s shoulders, leaning down to say, “I’m gonna go have a word with the bouncer.”

“No fighting,” Rembrandt said. 

“No promises.”

Rembrandt rolled her eyes as Ajax disappeared around the corner. She lit a cigarette. She began to pull a second one from the pack, but hesitated as she looked Fox up and down. “For real, how old are you?”

Fox sighed, defeated. “I’m seventeen.” 

Close enough. Rembrandt gave her the cigarette. “What are you doing here? There are eighteen and up clubs that would be a lot less likely to catch you if you just wanted a night out.”

“I don’t have a legit ID,” Fox admitted quietly. Fuck, she was shy. Almost as shy as Rembrandt was at the start. “When I got a fake one, I figured I might as well go for twenty-one ’cause I like hanging out in the clubs, anyway.”

“Why do you need a fake one? Just go to the DMV. Don’t you have documents?” Rembrandt asked. Fox shook her head. A realization dawned on Rembrandt. “Where are you staying?”

The girl hesitated. “I was at the youth shelter in Sheepshead Bay.”

“Was?”

“I… I sleep where I can in Kaiser Park.”

Rembrandt threw her hands in the air. “Fuckin’ hell, kid! It’s October!”

“You’re out here without a jacket!”

“I’m going to a club, not sleeping outside!”

“I didn’t have a choice. The shelter didn’t have space for me anymore. They said they needed the beds for younger kids but the adult shelter they sent me to was… I-I, I couldn’t-”

Rembrandt held up a hand. “I get it,” she said gently. “I’ve met a lot of people coming out of those shelters. I’m assuming you’re not affiliated?”

“Huh?”

“With a gang. You’re not in any gang?”

“No.” 

“Do you have anything in Kaiser Park? Like a tent, clothes, any personal belongings?”

“My backpack is hidden by the dumpster out back. I have all my comic books in there so I try to hide it where it won’t get wet.”

“Oh my god, this is an actual fucking child,” Rembrandt muttered to herself. “You know who we are, right? The Warriors?”

“I know you run Coney Island.”

“That’s right. Do you have an actual place to sleep tonight? Not a park bench.”

“Rembrandt!” Ajax came around the corner with Cochise and Cowgirl behind her. Cochise looked only mildly annoyed but Cowgirl threw her arms in the air in exasperation.

“Rem, this was supposed to be a chill night out and you’re running gang business!” she whined. “I had to leave sweater vest boy hanging on the dance floor!”

“Not a loss!” Rembrandt said. She turned back to Fox. “Go get your backpack.”

“What?” Fox asked.

“What?” the other Warriors asked in unison. 

“You’re staying with us tonight. I’m not letting you sleep on a fucking park bench.”

Fox didn’t move, struggling to fathom what Rembrandt had just said. As the realization sank in that the Warrior was actually being serious, she nodded hurriedly and booked it around the back of the building. Cochise and Cowgirl stared at Rembrandt in confusion. Ajax laid a hand on her back. 

“You know what you’re doing?” she asked quietly. 

“She’s seventeen and sleeping in Kaiser Park. She got kicked out of a shelter. Her backpack is full of comic books.”

“You better call ahead to Cleon. When I brought you in, she was expecting it. Don’t want to surprise her.” 

“I’m gonna. There’s a payphone at the end of the block.”

“You gonna be okay?”

“Ajax, you can see the payphone from here.”

“Alright,” Ajax said, raising her hands. “There’s dimes in my inside pocket.”

“I know, I put them there.”

“Oh, yeah.”

Pulling Ajax’s jacket tight around her, Rembrandt jogged to the end of the block where there was a busted up, graffiti covered payphone. She put in a coin and dialed the number for the apartment. It rang. And rang. And rang. And Rembrandt was afraid for a moment that Swan and Cleon had possibly gone to bed already. She had no idea how late it was and she worried she might either wake up a grumpy Cleon by phone or come home with a stranger in tow and make it worse. 

Someone finally picked up. “Speak,” Swan said gruffly.

“Swan, it’s Rembrandt.”

“Fuck, is Ajax in jail again?”

“What? No! And I’m telling her you said that. Listen, is Cleon still awake? Can you put her on the phone?”

“Yeah, sure. Cleon!”

There were muffled voices on the other end of the line. Rembrandt leaned against the side of the phone box, waiting for Cleon to pick up. When she finally did, the first words out of her mouth were, “Please tell me you’re not calling from outside a police station.”

“For the love of - Ajax isn’t in jail! Cleon, we don’t have anyone that was supposed to stay on the couch tonight, right?”

“...Why?”

Rembrandt recounted the conversation to her, from seeing Fox at the other end of the bar to learning she was kicked out of the shelter. Cleon listened silently aside from a “mm-hm” here and there so Rembrandt knew she was still on the line. When she finally finished, there was a long pause. She put in more coins to make sure she hadn’t been cut off. 

Cleon sighed. “Does this girl want to be in a gang?” she asked.

“I didn’t ask,” Rembrandt admitted.

“Rem-”

“I’m not recruiting her, Cleon. Not this second. She just… needs a warm place to sleep for the night. I’m not leaving her on a park bench in October!”

“Is she gonna rob us?”

“She said she hides her backpack where her comic books won’t get wet. This is a literal teenager we’re talking about.” Rembrandt took a deep breath as she carefully formulated her next words. It was still painful to say this out loud. “When Ajax brought me in and she told you… what was happening to me… how did she convince you? What did she say to get you to take me in that night?”

“She said you needed to be with us.”

“This girl needs to be with us.” Her heart ached. “She reminds me of how I used to be before I met Ajax, before I met all of you. She needs someone.” 

Another long pause. “Is she with you right now?”

Rembrandt looked over her shoulder. Fox had returned and stood with the other Warriors, talking indistinctly with Ajax. She didn’t look entirely terrified, which was a good sign. Rembrandt said, “She’s with us.”

“Alright. Bring her along. She can stay on the couch.”

“Really?”

“I trust your judgement, Rembrandt. You’ve never let me down before. I will want to talk to her but I’m not gonna tell you no. Be safe getting home.”

Rembrandt grinned. “Okay! Great! We’ll be there soon.” She hung up and went back to where Fox and the Warriors were standing, smiling as she stepped up to Fox. “You’ve got the couch for tonight.”

Fox’s eyes lit up. “Wait, what?”

“Cleon’s going to want to talk to you. She’s intimidating at first but I promise she’s nice. You comin’?”

“I, uh, y-yeah! Yeah, thank you!” 

Ajax and Rembrandt lead the party back towards the apartment. It took a minute, but behind them, Rembrandt eventually heard Cowgirl begin to ask Fox about what comic books she had. Cochise complimented her hair and asked if she did it herself. Rembrandt smiled to herself as Ajax slung an arm around her shoulders. She leaned down to kiss the top of her head.

“Been over a year and you’re just now recruiting someone,” she teased. “But why her?”

“She reminds me of someone you and I used to know.”

----

Rembrandt screamed as she watched Fox wrestle with the captain on the platform. She punched the window until she couldn’t feel her hand. She failed to force the doors open. Tears streamed from her eyes as Fox got on top of the cop, desperately trying to keep him down. She couldn’t hear anything but her own shouts, begging Fox to run, telling her to get away from him, don’t try to win and just try to survive, please just survive!

Their train started pulling away.

Another sped into the station on the parallel track.

And Fox was gone. 

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

Thought I was going to let you completely get away from the angst, did you? Think again. I haven't changed that much

[holybibly]

I love being your bunny, I'm a big fan of all your stories I read ALL of them but can I make a request? like a birthday wish? please I just need a big smut from yunho 😭 like look at yunho? he seems so innocent, new boy in town, sweet, kind and golden retriever who stays up all night playing video games but the type of guy who will hit his dick several times on your tongue looking at you as if he is superior while making you cum several times with his fingers and vibrators or the kind of idol who would stare at you the entire concert in awe of your beauty and would destroy his innocent hotteoka little girl on the hotel, making her only have eyes for him and making her think about him until the next concert (idk I I just had a bad day and my mind is flowing, I really wanted a big smut with Yunho because it's hard to find good ones here so please!! If it doesn't bother you, take it as a suggestion!! You don't have to do it if you want!! Thank you for listen to me)

Oh dear bunny, who has upset you? I'll look after ya.

It's a pity this will have to be the rough way, because yes, our Yunho is a rough boy. But you like it rough. Don't you?

This is the way he loves to make you squirm—to slap your chubby buttocks hard with the broad palm of his hand, causing them to turn red, spreading a burning sensation across your tender skin, and leaving his rough, possessive mark on you.

Despite the opinions of everyone around him, Yunho is not always a smooth, gentle puppy. He can bite and scratch, and there are so many dark and evil thoughts in his sweet head.

He's still fully dressed in his fancy suit after the concert while you are completely naked and defenceless on his lap, your pussy shamelessly leaking with excitement and staining his trousers with each loud slap.

You love the pain; you love knowing that you won't be able to sit properly afterwards; you love knowing that people will look at you and wonder if you're all right—maybe even ask you directly. Your mind will replay everything Yunho has done to you, and your pussy will clench reflexively.

"You were a bad girl today." He caresses your ass as he speaks, and a sobbing moan comes out of your hoarse throat. But that is only the beginning. You know. When Yunho gets angry or upset, he always plays rough with you. But today, you should have thought twice before making eyes at Mingi for the whole damn concert; you went too far to get away with it. He fucks you; he owns you; you are his fucking property, so why are you looking at his best friend instead of drooling over him? "You didn't even try to hide it. Did you? You have been acting like a real slut the whole evening, and you want me to be nice to you?" Yunho goes on to say this as he digs his fingers into your ass. "Do you have any idea what happens to whores?" He growls in a low voice, his fingers sliding over your swollen lips before he spreads them and pushes long phalanges into your mouth, forcing you to suck on them. "They get punished." His voice is deep and dark as his fingers reach your throat and press against your tongue, choking you slightly. "You will be counted, and don't you dare moan; you shouldn't be enjoying this, love." You can feel the threat lurking in his voice; you know that if you don't submit to him again, he might not let you come at all; he might tease and fuck you all night long without giving you any sweet relief.

So you whisper a trembling "yes" and wait for your punishment to begin.

His big hand first rests gently on your left buttock, caressing it lightly before he strikes you.

"One!" You gasp at the contact.

He then moves on to your right cheek.

"Two!" God, your ass is on fire; it feels like there is a fire burning right under your skin.

As he goes on, his slaps get harder and more brutal, and by the time he spanks you for the 7th time, you're sure that your skin will be bright red and irritated, and you're sure that it won't be easy for you to even wear panties.

The watering of your eyes is on the increase. The tears sting as much as his merciless slaps on your bottom.

10 slaps, and you are sobbing openly and loudly, the tears running down your face as he gently strokes the bruised ass and comforts you.

"You did great, baby; you're perfect." He praises you before leaning down and kissing your sore skin.

You don't know how you managed to keep from moaning through all of this, but you did.

He forces you to pull down his trousers, squeezing you so you're on your knees between his legs.

"Here, sweetheart. He says this to you as he tangles his long fingers in your hair.

As you get closer to his crotch, he pulls you even closer to him, moaning as you immediately open your mouth, ready to take his thick cock into your warm little mouth.

As your tongue licks the swollen, thick head of his cock for a moment, you can already feel his pre-cum oozing out.

He slaps the hard length of it against your cheek a couple of times before he rubs it against your tender, soft skin, staining it with his cum.

"What should you say, dear?"

"Please..." you mutter under your breath.

"I'm sorry, what?" Yunho pulls hard on your hair.

You don't answer; you just try to reach his dick again and stick out your tongue as far as it will go, obviously not succeeding.

"You are acting like a bad girl again. I can see that." He stands up abruptly, leaving you sitting there on the floor, naked and dishevelled, waiting for his mercy to come.

He crouches behind you, two fingers sliding along your skin from the small of your back to your ass, moving further down, sliding along your tight hole before reaching your pussy, pushing his fingers inside of you, making you tremble from the sudden contact. His fingers leave you as quickly as they came in, but not without the little toy Yunho picked up for you, a little ball vibrator.

He doesn't turn it on right away; he wants to see how you squirm once more and how you finally give in and beg him like the good girl that you are for him.

He sits back down and puts his hand on your hair, pulling you towards him, his cock still hard and ready to be mouthed.

"Be a good girl to me, darling, and I'll give you what you want. Or you will continue to be a whore." He says this as he pulls at your hair once more with even more force. "And you won't be able to cum for at least a week."

[mutenized]

Celebrity Skin

Eddie Munson x rockstar!afab! Reader

It’s 1991 and Robin forced all of her friends to go to a concert with her for her birthday. Without listening to the band, Eddie agreed to go without knowing what was to come. Who knew being considered a ‘freak’ all his life would lead him to find a kindred soul in the grunge-rock’s princess.

A/n; This is a fuck Courtney Love page but god is Hole such a good band… god damn. This was what was supposed to be a Drabble which is turning into a mini series once more. Who’s surprised? Not me. Listen to Celebrity Skin by Hole as you read this

Word count: idk it started as a Drabble

Notes/warnings: none really??? Slight mention to a chase in a romantic way, wet dream mention

MASTERLIST // PART TWO

"Come on Eddie!” Steve's voice called out as he, Robin, and Nancy weave haphazardly through the large crowd to try to get closer to the stage. The fuzzy haired brunette wasn't easy to lose, his height paired with his hair made him Stand out in the crowd. As soon as ruddy knuckles latch on the cool metal of the barricade, the shared adrenaline rush settled upon the quartet, specifically Robin whose birthday they were celebrating. The big 23, her coming-to-christ year she called it. Though that's what she called every birthday since moving to Indianapolis with Steve, Eddie following soon after with Gareth. The year is 1991, the height of grunge rock piquing the interest of many who considered themselves misfits.

Earlier in Steve’s nice muscle car he had just purchased, Robin had enthusiastically explained ( or rather info-dumped) all that the other three needed to know about the band they were seeing. Female singer, iconic, friends with Nirvana. That's all Steve absorbed as he hadn't branched out stylistically at all. Nancy, on the other hand, rented a cassette of the band's debut album before, surprisingly, falling in love. "Guys! Her voice is like…" Nancy trailed off as she tried to correctly describe the velvet textured voice that blessed her ears. "Pure sex!" The other girl sputtered out which made Eddie chuckle and Steve choke.

Now there they all stood,against cool metal bars that sat at their hips as the lights dimmed and the venue filled with roars. The first rifts began to play as the bassist and drummer took position on stage followed by the rhythm guitarist. Then there you were; ripped stockings, beat up doc martens, a slip dress and a cheetah print jacket that you slung over the corner of the drumming platform just to expose your ink stained arms.

“Oh make me over, I'm all I wanna be" the rugged yet smooth texture of your voice filled the venue as your paint-chipped nails worked the neck of your guitar with finesse. Your voice continued to grit out the lines "A walking study in demonology" followed by the belting of a "hey!" from the entire band.

Nancy and Robin screamed the lyrics along with the rocker who worked the stage like she's done this for twenty years. Yet, she's only twenty-two. Eddie was in awe, his jaw on the floor as he drank you in. For a moment, he sworeyou saw him which made him jolt straight up before finally joining his two friends in wildly thrashing their heads around.

Hopping down from the stage, you began to sing from the crowd before stopping right in front of the fated group of friends. Noting Robin's ‘birthday bitch' pin, you give her a wink before gently hading her chin and delivering the next line which you dramatically performed. "Well look at my face!"you chanted with A growl, moving to the well-groomed man next to her. He reminded you of what you ran away from; normalcy, dated expectations. Suburbia; the thing you dreaded most.

"My name is ‘might-have-been’” a playful pout played on your plump, plum painted lips as you ruffled his perfectly quaffed hair. "My name is ‘Never-was’” rolling your eyes teasingly at Nancy, you stuck your pierced tongue out at her before you were in front of your intended target. Eddie, though you didn’t know his name yet. All you knew was that from the moment you walked on stage you had become his new, unobtainable wet dream. As you toyed with his friends, the chocolatey-doe-eyed man anxiously rolled his vertical labret piercing between his teeth.

Grabbing hold of his vest with your free hand, you pulled him close enough to see his blown out pupils. Leaning in by his ear, you sang lowly all before biting the air right by the lobe of his ear which caused him to flush a beet red. “My name’s forgotten.” Another belting round of ‘heys’ filled the air as you hopped back under the heated stage lights. They made you look like an angel, Eddie thought. Before, he had been on the fence of staying by the stage door waiting with his friends for a small chance to meet you. Now he was more adamant than Robin and Nancy had been, combined.

He was going to make the unobtainable, obtainable and you sensed that from him the moment you got close to him. You wanted to be obtained by the brooding metal head who got your focus before the show even began. Your eyes catching him and his friend group from your spot by the tour bus as a cigarette hung from your lips.

Obtain me.

[b-kaulitzx]

BILL KAULITZ || Pulling you on stage ||

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

You & your bestfriend, Adam were at a Tokio Hotel concert. It was the late 2000s, people dressing how ever they liked. A few girls with dresses on and jeans. Crop tops, glasses, jeans, jackets. You name it, you were in the 'gothic' part of it. Chunky boots, fishnets, black Jean shorts, crop tops, black small jackets, you name it.

You heard of the band two years ago, by your bestfriend. He wouldn't stop rambling on about them. I personally always liked bill and Georg. They are both extremely hot, now in person you couldn't lay your eyes off them.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

You were staring at Georg, trying not to freak out that Adam got tickets for your birthday week. "YOURE WELCOME Y/N" Adam screams, making sure I can hear even though he screamed right by my ear. "YEAH THANKS A". A few minutes pass, jamming out to Schrei. I notice Bill walking closer to the front of the stage, and then winks in my direction. He gets even more closer and puts a hand out, reaching for me. I turn to Adam and act surprised(😦), I turn back around to Bill, grabbing his hand. Security pushing me up, I reaching the stage I turn to the crowd and then back to Bill. "Whats your name, Schatz?" He says into the Mike and points the microphone to my mouth. The crowd goes wild, screaming. "Oh! Um y/n!" . I say, holding in my excitement, "Well y/n, why don't you come back stage after we got done,". He winks at you, "that would be nice" I smile, bill turning back to the crowd and starts signing again, about a few seconds later, turning the microphone to you. You guess you have to finish the lyrics. You do and he nods, this goes on until the show is done.

Adam cheers you on from the crowd, being louder than usual. You smile at him and once the show is over, most of the people are gone, you spot Adam and get down to the stage sitting on the edge while he rests his arms on the railing. The band is getting water and snacks while u wait for them to get done. "Y/N! jesus how was it, if that was me i would have literally cried! " He says, his fvoice raspy from yelling. "Oh my god adam, it was fucking amazing. Surprisingly didnt get stage fright". He claps softly, "look, snice your gonma chill out with the band, I'm gonna go home okay? He's some money to get a cab, plus you guys will probably be drinking so that's even better". He throws a 50 dollar bill at you, missing the stage and falling on the floor. He winks and leaves, "adam? Bro im not getting off this stage!" You yell at him, he turns around and laughs. "Oh my God, damn it" you jump down from, the stage, grabbing it and stuffing it in your back pocket. You turn around trying to get back on the stage, you keep failing. You turn around, facing the few little people in the crowd, trying to jump on stage while a few people look at you is kinda embarrassing. You hear someone's voice "need help?" You turn around and see Georg, a layer of sweat on his face. "Oh! Please, I've been trying for the last like 2 minutes". He reaches his hand out for you, grabbing it and pulling you up. "That wasnt hard, Y/n" He grins, "it is when im not tall enough" he let's out a small laugh, "come on, Bill hasnt shut up about you snice we left the stage". He leads you to a black current and pushing it over you, you go under it and see the rest of the band. "Oh bill, shes here" He tunes out, "ah, y/n!" he turns to me and smiles, "your singing was awesome Y/n!' Bill says, walking up to me and shooing Georg away. "Thanks, bill. You were amazing yourself".

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

I honestly wanna add more but i just pulled an all nighter and im tired. ive had this thing SIT in my drafts for like 5 days so yeahhh. Also this is so long my bad yall, this was supposed to be like 2 paragraphs💀 Also didnt proof read because im lazy (an edit, i was on laughing gas, I thought about ts while in the dentists chair getting a root canal💀)

[aurorsnsadprose]

Writing this makes me nervous, somehow I had been putting it off. I will be seeing @taylorswift for the first time soon🇲🇽, still sad to me the fact that I couldn't get a ticket to the US leg. But this will finally happen and I want to cry with emotion, love and happiness everytime I thought about it.

Getting verified fan was not easy, getting a place in the virtual queue and the nerves was exhausting, finding seats was terrifying. BUT IT'S DONE.

I got tickets to be there on August 24, 25 and 26.

Even with stress and nerves, something magically helped us get the seats we wanted. AND THE BEST? 🪩✨🩵 I'll be in PLATINUM 12, ROW 1, SEAT 13. Yeah, 13 and FIRST ROW, strangely and happily I got 13 ✨🩵🪩. I can't even imagine what my view will be like on Friday the 25th of August for N2.

N1: General B

N3: GREEN 18 C (VE-18C), LINE 10, SEAT 13 (again 13)

I've been planning this with one of my best for YEARS, a long time ago, at another Foro Sol concert, we talked about how we would dress when we finally saw her live. IT'S HAPPENING🩷.

Buying shiny fabrics to combine my favorite boots and materialize one of my favorite songs: cowboy like me for N2 (btw, Taylor, could you repeat it, please?).

The last few weeks have been accompanied by imagining and making my outfits, making joking and normal friendship bracelets, preparing everything to take my polaroid with me, making amazing jackets for N1, trying to make an outfit for the line "She stole his dog and dyed it key lime green" for N3. And trust me, if I can go to N4 I'll be there.

Thank you, really thank you, I know it will take several songs for me to believe that I will be living a reality that will wait a long time and I know that I will be in tears of emotion.

I will no longer cry watching reputation Stadium Tour on my television, this time I'm gonna be THERE. I will know if 'Tis the damn season returns to the setlist or not, IN THE SAME TIME AND SPACE, I will not find out from a live on TikTok or a tweet.

Also, I'm excited that Taylor knows what Mexican crowds are like at a concert, we are really very passionate, we are going to go crazy. It's gonna be super fun for everyone.

See you in 13 nights! ⭐

P.S. I'm going to share here my surprise songs wishlist with repeats and without it. Idk. Just in case.

P.S. II I hope u @taylornation come too. Podemos enseñarles un poco de español. 🖤

🩵⭐No repeated songs:

1. So it goes please PLEASE PLEASE

2. Dancing with our hands tied

3. The very first night, please?

4. Closure pls

5. It's nice to have a friend PLEASE

6. End game

7. Long story short

8. London boy

⭐🩷With repeated songs.

1. Cowboy like me

2. Gold rush

3. So it goes

4. Would've, should've, could've

5. New romantics (I know it's not gonna happen, so, Wonderland)

6. Seven

7. Forever and always

8. The very first night

THANK U THANK UUUUUU. ❤️

[be-with-me-so-happily]

Summary: Y/N applies to be a styling intern for the One Direction crew during the Where We Are tour. As she gets better at her job and closer to the band and crew (especially Harry Styles), some of her dreams seem to be coming true, but so are some of her fears.

A/N: Here we go! It's starting to get a bit juicy! This chapter was exciting and basically wrote itself.

Disclosures: Some language, alcohol consumption, intimate physical contact, small amount of angst

~~~~~

CHAPTER 4 -

ARE WE FRIENDS OR ARE WE MORE?

August 29th, 2014 - Concert Day

About a week and a half goes by. One Direction had shows in Houston, Dallas, and St. Louis. You didn't see much of Harry besides his quick changes in the dressing room.

You are hoping to run into Harry today and apologize for your last interaction. You had been in a bad mood from the hangover, but also from trying to push down your sudden, inopportune feelings for him. You want to apologize and ask to be friends.

But deep down, there's a tinge of desire for something more- to have more of those amazing conversations… to see that big dimpled smile… to maybe even hear him call you Sunshine.

You know you shouldn't care. You know you shouldn't want those things. You barely know each other and you are kidding yourself if you think he would like you more than a friend. But you want to be friends, at least. So, you keep trying to tell yourself to get a grip and bottle up those feelings. Friends is all it could be. He is Harry Styles after all.

[The charming, good-looking, easy-going, thoughtful Harry Styles… damn it]

You immediately go looking for him when you arrive at Soldier Field. You brought a peace offering of coffee, and a mini fruit tart you found at the nearby bakery.

You find him sitting on the edge of the stage, by himself, scrolling through his phone.

"Hey." You pull yourself up to sit next to him.

"Hey Y/N. What's up?" This is the first time you've ever seen a melancholy look on his face.

"So… well, I- I just…" you growl at yourself as you fumble over your words and take a deep breath.

"I was terrible to you the other week. I'm so sorry. As we are both now aware, I don't do well with hangovers. I'm usually fine the next morning, but I think this tour schedule caught up to me or something."

You haven't looked him in the eyes yet, but you know he's looking at you, you can feel it.

You continue. "You did something so nice for me and I just snapped back at you. You didn't deserve that, and I'm very sorry."

He still hasn't said anything which makes you a bit nervous. So you reach down next to you.

"I brought you a black coffee and mini fruit tart as a peace offering. I hope you can forgive me."

That's when his real smile shows up again. He takes it and looks up to say, "Fruit tart for my forgiveness? Deal." He takes a bite and smiles in approval.

"And I really hope we can be friends."

He's silent, and takes another bite. He lets out a little sigh, sounding almost disappointed, but smiles and answers, "yeah, we can be friends. I never thought we weren't."

"Oh good. Because I can't ever trust anyone else to bring me a breakfast wrap as good as the one you gave me." You joke.

He chuckles back, as you squeeze his arm [big mistake to touch his bicep] and swing yourself off the stage.

"See ya later rockstar."

"See you later Y/N."

[Still no Sunshine… but at least you're friends]

~~~~~

August 30th, 2014 - Concert Day

:niall: good morning superstar! me and the boys are having a little hotel rooftop party after the show to kick off the little break we're gonna have. wanna join?

:you: after last time??

:niall: what was wrong with last time?

:you: nothing, i guess, but the day after wasn't so great

:niall: cuz of the headache? or being a meany to harry?

[Harry must've told him. Damn]

:you: you know I'm in charge of what you wear out there tonight, right?

:niall: come on… please…?

You think for a few minutes. You won't have work the next day, and you won't see the guys for over a week, so what's the harm?

:you: okay bud. i'll be there.

:niall: good, the other girls already said yes :) and harry too. he's excited.

You can't tell if your body reacts out of nerves or butterflies. Probably both.

:you: yay!

[Reel it back in, keep your cool]

:you: yay… we all get to hang out tonight!

:niall: yup. us guys, the glamour girls, plus you and harry :)

:you: you're going on stage tonight dressed as a Teletubby

~~~~~

Your headphones are in again, for a distraction, and you work away to the musical stylings of ABBA.

(Mamma Mia)

"Yes, I've been brokenhearted

Blue since the day we parted

Why, why did I ever let you go?

Mamma mia, now I really know

My, my, I could never let you go"

The song ends and as you wait for the next one to start, you hear a subtle applause behind you. The most heated and brightest red rushes to your cheeks and you instantly bring both hands directly to your face. [Oh shit, who is it? How long have they been there? No, no, no]

You turn around, hands still covering your face. You separate a few fingers to peek through and your heart stops.

"Been holding out on us?" You can just barely make out that dimpled smirk spread across Harry's face.

"Oh god. Oh my god. This is so embarrassing!"

He just chuckles.

"How much did you hear?" Your hands move from over your eyes onto your overwhelmingly flushed cheeks.

His smile gets wider. "I think it was, uh, since around the second verse…"

He coughs to clear his throat, and adds, "you were just in the zone, I couldn't interrupt."

"You definitely could have!" You exclaim.

"Yeah, but I- I didn't want to." He coughs again and looks down. He quickly changes the subject. "Umm, do you have any button ups I could wear tonight?

"Yeah, there's two here. I thought you were going with the green t-shirt though?" You hold up the options.

"Oh. Umm... I meant- I meant for the thing tonight." He furrows his brow and bites his lower lip as he brings his hand to his face. "Which one do you like?" He asks.

Without hesitation, you give him a thin, plain white button up shirt. "Honestly, this one. It's not bold like your usual but I actually really like it." [Plus, his tattoos could be seen through it a little… oh geez…]

"If you say so! I'll take it." He says, taking the hanger from you. "So, are you going to be there?"

"Yep," you quickly reply. "Are you?" You scrunch your face. [Stupid. He just said he needed a shirt for it]

"Told you I didn't want to miss out on the next one. And damn it, I won't miss out!" He laughs.

Then you laugh.

"Hopefully it'll be a night worth a headache the next morning!" Instantly looking as if he didn't mean to just say that.

Natalie thinks your comments before had made him think you didn't care to be around him. Of course you want to be around him. That was the problem though… you wanted to be around him a lot. More than a tour intern should. More than just a friend should.

"Good friends, good drinks, and good music?… definitely worth it." You give him a smirk.

[Hopefully you can get your heart to cooperate]

He starts to smile. And maybe even blush a little. "Good. I'll see you there." He pauses and looks at the shirt in his hands. "You know, I won't be in a t-shirt and head scarf, so it might be hard to recognize me."

You laugh. "Right, because you definitely blend into a crowd, Mr. Harry Styles of One Direction" and you roll your eyes.

His dimples cave in even deeper with a mischievous grin.

"Game on. You're gonna have to come and find me tonight." He winks and walks away, leaving you to wonder how you're ever going to tame the butterflies currently dancing around in your stomach.

As he is almost to the door, he flips his hand up and waves with his back still facing you. "See you later, Mia!"

"Mia?!"

He giggles and starts down the hallway. As you try to catch him to ask what he meant, you hear him singing:

(Mamma Mia)

"Yes, I've been brokenhearted

Blue since the day we parted

Why, why did I ever let you go?

Mamma mia, now I really know

My, my, I could never let you go"

[Shit… you're in trouble, aren't you?]

~~~~~

You four girls complete your post-show tasks in record time and Amelia busts up laughing as she walks in. "Damn!" then she smirks, "have fun plans or something…?" She knows. She leaves the loading up to the other crew members and lets you go.

Each one of you had your outfit laid out since the morning, well aware that there are four of you in one room, with limited time to get ready.

Tonight's outfit needed to fit the vibe- a little dressed up but not trying too hard. You put on a white cross front halter top bodysuit (nice and form-fitting) paired with some light denim skinny jeans. You finish it off with your favorite blue ankle boots, blue earrings, and give your hair a nice beachy wave style.

It's a miracle that you all got ready quickly, and still have time to spare. You grab a few bottles from the mini bar so you can 'cheers' to a great tour so far and a fun night ahead!

"And cheers to the guys of One Direction!" Natalie adds as she very obviously winks at you.

Sarah rolls her eyes, "oh geez, let's go."

~~~~~

You are blown away when you walk out to the rooftop area. White couches with large pillows line the walls all the way around the space. Lights are strung up between the building and the posts on the banisters. Purple lights shine against the bar and the cityscape stands out there as the perfect backdrop.

There are already quite a few people there. A lot more than you expected. [So much for a 'little' rooftop party]

Niall runs up to you, beer in hand and a huge grin on his face. "Yay! M'girls are here!" He corrals you in for a big group hug. "Bar is over there," he points out, "and the cool people are sitting on the couches in the back corner." You all look to see Zayn, Liam, and Louis sitting there chatting with the band.

Niall stands shoulder to shoulder with you, and whispers, "except Harry." He chuckles, "good luck" and walks over to greet some new guests that are arriving.

You shake your head and follow your friends as they make their way over to the 'cool couch'. While everyone chats about the inappropriate signs they read tonight, you try to subtly scan faces for Harry. Nothing. You're only partially listening to their conversation. You're just trying to find those piercing green eyes and that cheeky wide grin.

You're not having much luck, so decide to make your way over to the bar. [Maybe he changed his mind]. You slump over slightly with that unfortunate thought.

Waiting for your margarita, you feel a tap on your shoulder. You instantly perk up and twirl around, only to be met with the gaze of a stranger.

"Hi!" He bursts out. "Y/N right?"

You just nod your head, expecting to see someone else.

"I'm Levi. I'm an intern on the sound crew. You probably don't remember but you helped us out one day setting up our equipment."

You rack your brain trying to pull up the memory and suddenly remember chatting with some of the sound crew about movies. "Oh right. Secret 'Titanic' fan, right?"

"Yeah, emphasis on the word secret." He nervously laughs.

"Oops! Noted."

"How's everything been going for you?" He asks.

"It's been great! Busy, and crazy, but great!" You reply, but take a sip from the margarita you were just handed, to subtly scan the party again.

"Same. I'm looking forward to some days off. But I'm glad this party is happening, so I can catch up with people I haven't seen in a while…" his voice trails off. Maybe he is hinting at something, or waiting for a response, or maybe senses that you're distracted…

But he most likely stops because somebody has suddenly appeared behind you as soon as those words leave his mouth.

"Hey mate, I'm Harry." A long, tattooed arm reaches out from behind you to shake Levi's hand.

"Levi" he replies, "nice to meet you man." He looks over to you and suggests catching up with you another time. You nod and turn around towards Harry.

With a triumphant smile, he declares, "I win!"

"What do you mean?"

"I found you!"

"I thought I was the one who was supposed to find you?" You laugh.

"You were taking too long." Harry declares.

You scoff in protest. "I just got here!"

"Yeah, and you were taking too long." He repeats.

"You just suck at playing this little game that you created." You argue.

You indulge in some more sips of margarita and you both walk over to where you had originally left your friends.

There aren't many open seats left on the L-shaped couch, so you end up on one end, with Harry across on the other. He smiles and focuses his attention on Sarah, who has engrossed everyone with a story about her trips to France. He is so good at giving his attention to whoever is talking, and she's got so many interesting things to say.

That's when you get the first good look at him. He has on the white button up shirt you gave him. The buttons seem to be more of a suggestion to him, since the shirt was open all the way down to his butterfly tattoo. His cross necklace dangles right down the middle of his chest. He has his usual black skinny jeans and brown boots, with a matching brown hat sitting on top of that crazy, curly hair. [Why does he have to be so beautiful?]

You start to worry that you won't be able to keep your composure. You tell yourself that it's nothing more than a friendship, and you don't want to mess that up. Not the new friendship, and not your internship. So you turn your attention to Sarah too.

For a split second, you catch his gaze out of the corner of your eye. He is looking at you with the most beautiful and subtle smile.

[Just have fun tonight. You're allowed to have fun! Just don't get wasted so you can keep your cool]

~~~~~

You've had another margarita now. You're not drunk, but your nagging thoughts have dissipated. Once again, the entire couch ends up belting out the lyrics to anything and everything the DJ is playing. Niall does a drunken Irish jig to at least half of them. Sarah enthusiastically agrees to playing 'Spin the Bottle', pouting a little after realizing it was a joke.

Suddenly Natalie insists that you girls get up and dance. She manages to convince Liam to join, and Niall has basically been doing it the whole time so he just hops along behind you all. Harry stays behind with Zayn and Louis. He is leaning forward, arms rested on his knees, smiling as he watches you all probably make complete fools of yourselves.

About three songs in and you notice he left the couch. You play it cool and go back to jumping around to 'Summer' by Calvin Harris. As the DJ transitions to the next song, your eyes find Harry and your heart drops a bit. He is walking back to the couch, talking with Sarah, who had slipped away to the bar during the last song. [Well, now you know why he left the couch]

You can't seem to take your eyes off of them as they get closer to your group's spot. You hear the song transitioning again and a remixed version of a familiar melody starts to play. Your eyes shoot over to the DJ, and then shoot your eyes back to Harry. He ends his conversation with her as completely turns in your direction, and he hurriedly sits back down. He's biting his lower lip. And suddenly you understand why.

(Mamma Mia)

"Look at me now, will I ever learn

I don't know how, but I suddenly lose control

There's a fire within my soul

…

Mamma mia, here I go again

My, my, how can I resist you?

Mamma mia, does it show again

My, my, just how much I've missed you?"

You look at Harry, mouth open wide, laughing in disbelief. He has the biggest smile on his face, and you match it instantly.

Natalie motions for him to join you but he shakes his head. You poke out your tongue and go back to dancing. When the song is over, you look over to him, tell the group you need a water break, and head over to the bar. Harry comes up right next to where you're waiting.

"Enjoying yourself?"

You let out a breathless giggle. "Absolutely!" Then you meet his eyes and grin. "Thanks for the song!"

He shakes his head. "I don't know what you're talking about. Must be the DJs favorite or something".

You grab the waters and he points to a vacant corner of the rooftop. "I just need a bit of quiet right now." He rests his forearms on the railing and you copy his stance, looking out at the city.

He presses his face into his shoulder closest to you and mutters, "umm… so has it been worth the impending headache so far?"

You drop your head, realizing he may have been thinking about that the whole time, and trying to make the night fun for you.

"It could end now and it would be one of the best nights ever!"

"I don't want it to end just yet." He quickly replied.

"Me either!" You smile. "I mean, I'm just hitting my stride on the dance floor!" You turn your whole body to face him, those beautiful green eyes staring right back at you, and then your gaze turns upwards towards his hat.

You get a bold, cheeky idea and quickly grab his hat, placing it on your own head. You take one step back and do an embarrassing little model pose. He instinctively runs his hand through his hair to fix it, and when he peers back at you, his expression gives you the most tender feelings.

His eyes graze from his hat down to your feet, and back to the hat, getting a good look at you.

"You look really cute in my hat." He says with a timid tone.

"Because it's your hat."

"No…" He manages, "because you are the one wearing it."

You nervously gulp as he brushes a piece of hair out of your face. You are fixated on his eyes, as they flicker between yours and your lips. His hands reach up to meet your jawline and you step closer to him, bringing your hands to his chest. He pushes the hat up higher on your head and brings his face as close to yours as possible. You can feel his labored breath on your lips and suddenly become aware of what's happening. You start overthinking things again.

"Harry," you whisper.

"Yeah?" He whispers back.

But you stop yourself from stopping it. You can't kid yourself anymore, you really want it.

"Please kiss m-" and with that his lips softly connect in the most affectionate kiss. He pulls back gauging your reaction, and as you let out a subtle moan (eyes still closed), he smashes his lips back into yours, with a lot more passion this time.

His eyes are still closed too when he pulls away, letting out a strong exhale as he smiles. "What about now?"

"What?"

"Is tonight worth the impending headache tomorrow?"

"Hmmm…" you pretend to ponder.

He laughs, taking his hat back and giving you a quick peck on the lips before turning around. "Come on, Sunshine, let's get back."

~~~~

No one seemed to have noticed your coinciding absence, but once Sarah realized that Harry was back, she insisted that he sit next to her and finish their conversation.

You stay and talk with everyone for an hour or so more, exchanging bashful smirks with Harry whenever your eyes meet. You take some group photos together, and Harry's hand wraps around your waist as he squeezes in next to you. Your knees feel weak from the touch. As desperate as you are to not let the night end, every moment of the day is now weighing your body down and you know you need to get to bed. Everyone exchanges hugs, says their farewells, and as you lean into Harry's embrace he whispers, "it was worth it for me too," sneaking one last peck on your cheek.

[You're done. Absolutely done]

The four of you girls make it back down to your room, and once you finally plop down on your bed, you see some text notifications on your phone.

:unknown: hey sunshine, lemme know you got back to your room

:unknown: umm, this is harry by the way

*changed contact info*

:you: back safe

:harry: good

:harry: i didn't want tonight to end

:you: me either :/

Your heavy eyelids start to uncontrollably flutter closed.

:harry: what time are you headed home tomorrow?

:harry: y/n?

:harry: g'night mia xx

:harry: <video attached>

- -

:niall: i gave harry your number, shoulda asked you first. guess you weren't a meany this time ;)

:niall: ps. he seemed really happy tonight y/n

~~~~~

August 31st, 2014

You have a headache when you wake up, but you barely notice it over the butterflies still in your stomach.

You open your texts and read what you'd missed, then open the video Harry had sent after you fell asleep. You hear 'Mamma Mia' playing in the background and see yourself twirling around on the dance floor like a fool. You smile when you hear him letting out cute little chuckles as he watches you.

[He took a video of you. Of a fun surprise he did for you. It's so precious. He… he really does like you?]

All of a sudden you hear the *ping* from your text notifications.

:harry: headache?

:you: don't even care

:harry: so… worth it?

:you: so worth it!

:harry: wanna get some coffee?

:you: all i have to wear are sweats for the plane.

:harry: okay, but wanna get some coffee?

You smirk at how he doesn't seem to care what you're wearing and you start to type out a 'yes', but just then Amelia's words start ringing in your ears… 'I just wouldn't get involved with anything' and you suddenly panic.

:you: i still need to pack. sorry.

:harry: oh okay. well, you're headed back to L.A too right? maybe we can meet up there soon.

Your heart sinks a little as you send your reply.

:you: yeah, maybe.

You put down your phone and focus your attention on getting all ready to leave.

You may have shared a kiss last night, a wonderful and passionate kiss, but you shouldn't get involved any further. It's not a good idea for either of you. It's for the best.

[So why do you feel so disheartened?]

~~~~~

Sitting on the airplane, you feel sick. It could because you hate flying, but you know its because of him. How you desperately wanted that coffee with him, how you wanted to kiss him again, how you wanted to lounge around with him up until the last second before you had to leave. And then of course, how you can't have him.

"Y/N/N, are you okay?" Natalie asks softly.

You nod your head and squeeze your eyes shut.

"Is it the flying thing?" She asks.

You want to tell her. You can't lie to your best friend. So you just shrug your shoulders as she places her hand over yours, giving it a slight squeeze.

You feel a tiny tear start to form at the corner of your eye and she whispers, "we can talk about it later if you want to, 'kay?"

You nod, and try to keep calm as the plane takes off.

When it finally levels out, and the seatbelt sign turns off, you start to relax a tiny bit. Natalie turns to you, but right then Sarah pops her head up from the seat behind you.

"Was last night amazing or what?!" She giggles.

You close your eyes again, so Natalie replies, "it was something else!"

"I had such a good conversation with Harry!" She beams. "He went somewhere for a bit, but when he came back he immediately started it up again!" She lets out a swooning sigh. "Can you imagine… Harry Styles giving you his attention basically the whole night?"

[If she only knew how amazing it really felt]

Jade, in the seat next to her, interjects, "don't you have a boyfriend?"

Then Sarah sighs, disappointedly. "Yeah… I was gonna end it before I left but he's so into me so I didn't do it." She lets out a dismissive laugh.

You didn't think you could feel more sick until now.

She adds, "but he's no Harry Styles!"

Without thinking, you say, "no one else is."

You hear Sarah quietly grunt and then sit back down in her seat. When you finally open your eyes and turn to Natalie, you see a concerned but sympathetic look displayed all over her face.

"Later?" She asks, referring to having a talk.

You nod your head then pull out your phone. You have two new text messages.

:niall: we all definitely need to do that again when we can. was i doing 'lord of the dance' moves at some point? please say you don't have proof ;)

You chuckle as much as you can muster, then open up the other message.

:harry: i had a really good time. hope you did too. have a safe flight xx

[Why did you have to cross that boundary and kiss him? Why did it have to feel so perfect? And why can't you stop thinking about doing it again?]

You squeeze your eyes shut and they stay like that all the way back to L.A. For the first time since you joined the tour, you can't wait to be back home.

~~~~~

Series Masterlist || Chapter 3 || Chapter 5

Taglist: @watermelonsugacry

[whysojiminimnida]

What's with Jikook and their handshakes? They're giving us such a great variety of handshakes:

The "you did well" handshake (I think one of their favorites)

The "hey, you're here too! Let's vibe together" handshake they do during concerts.

The touchy feely "Imma take your hand into mine and let's stay like that for a while" handshake (ahem, Jimin's birthday Vlive)

The "whoops, that was a moment" handshake (okay, the one on PTD day 2 after their bro jump/bridal carry misunderstanding was more of a high five)

The "babe, I just kinda betrayed you. Forgive me? " handshake they did today during the Vlive.

Any thoughts on that?

Hi hi hi @guacamoli-avocadorado! As per usual because you are So Damn Smart, you are not wrong. I GOT HANDSHAKES FOR YOU OMG LOOOOK AT THE HANDSHAKES

Oh wait that is not a handshake. It was, however, a moment.

Still... not a handshake. Why is Koo dressed like My Boyfriend Killed and Skinned Four Sherpas, I always wonder that. He is so layered up I bet he can't breathe.

I'm TRYING, SHIT--

WHAT GOES ON GENTLEMEN

Okay. THERE WE GO.

I like your type breakdown so I'mma use it loosely because... it's accurate. This is one of the standards - the "you did well" or "let's get it" or "we got it already let's go get it again" all purpose We Working BB kind of handshake we get A LOT. And I think a lot of the difference in handshakes comes down to timing and audience. Like at home I don't think they're shaking hands to say hi given that they literally just give it up and hold hands at every possible opportunity. This is a degree of public handshake. Like this

This is the OH HEY HERE WE ARE IN PUBLIC TOGETHER HELLO NICE TO SEE YOU kind of almost absurdistly funny handshake.

Jimin in particular has this effervescent twist of irony he loves to just throw in there like "Hello. I am Park Jimin Respectable Some Might Say Maybe Heterosexual Idol. I see we have met, allow me to shake your hand" and Koo always looks like... that.

It throws him a little bit and even now he often has to bite back the giggles. I think it's a joke between them, I don't even want to know the script or the punch line because the reward is worth it every time.

But this is a bro grip. It may look initiated by Jimin but it's mutual. And Koo loves to take this slightly-less-public but still flirty-funny "oh look we're BROS but NOT REALLY" thing and run with it.

I dunno it's a whole other quality of the inside joke because now instead of formal in suits they're in front of cameras but more casual, more bro shit is allowable. Jimin goes in with a similar attitude but Koo goes "fuck THAT noise" and just..

And inevitably instead of Jungkook needing to redirect to maintain his chill, we get the beginnings and middle of SHY JIMIN. Which: has been a long time coming and I love to see it. Basically Jimin can dish it out but baby can't take it. You flip the script on this guy and I am telling you right now that is a heavy hard core to the bone SWITCH in front of you. He's all dommy for everyone in the whole world... ...until Jungkook comes in and says "babe hey babe NOPE IT IS MY TURN" and then bar the door and restrain the horses and whores, this man will flip like the light switch he is. Put a collar on him and call it good.

Some of y'all out here wondering HOW he got those hip bruises. It's got to be a very entertaining romance, honestly.

ANYWAY

This adoring smile and ... two kinds of handshakes. On top we have the "oops I just texted you OH I MEANT TO MENTION combined with the I'm so glad you're here baby"... I mean the man is just in love, is all, and it can be domestic betrayal or just on-god relief but either way it's an acknowledgement. I feel like there's a significant palm slide involved. It's less a handshake and more of a hand hold, but like a lot of other shit they do, the difference here is in duration. That quick slide above was "I see you worked out glad that's done by the way I ate oops don't kill me also I love you" . The birthday live was "I see I interrupted your workout glad that's done by the way I'm having intense insecurity and also we kinda planned this for after your workout don't kill me also I love you it's my birthday" So maybe it is the same handshake after all. I dunno, I might not be finished with this yet. You know how I get about these things. Six months and ten posts later I'll be "now about that bro handshake"...

[helloalycia]

teenage dirtbag [four] // wanda maximoff

summary: Things finally explode between you and Nate, and Pietro decides to get to the bottom of whatever is going on between you and Wanda, though in usual Pietro fashion AKA not subtly at all

warning/s: none.

author's note: this is very beefy, i must admit, but i think you'll all enjoy the outcome 😂💘

part one | part two | part three | part five | masterlist | wattpad

Dinner with the Maximoffs wasn't as strange as I envisioned. Her parents were sweet and the twins did their best to make me feel comfortable. Wanda still seemed mildly frustrated whenever Pietro and I would talk though, and I figured she may have thought I was lying when I told her I didn't like him like that. I hoped that wasn't the case.

After dinner, Wanda took me upstairs to show me her bedroom. I'm not sure how to describe it other than it seemed so Wanda.

"I'm guessing red is your favourite colour," I said when I saw the hints of scarlet in her bedroom. On her walls, in her bedding, on her pillows. Just like her car and her jacket, they were all bright and very her.

"Great observation, Sherlock," she teased with a sly smile.

I returned the smile, sticking my tongue out at her playfully, before having a walk around and coming across her massive CD collection and CD player. Her music taste was actually quite similar to mine, which I definitely didn't expect. It just made her ten times more attractive to me which wasn't good, but oh well. I was here for a good time, not a long time. And my crush on Wanda Maximoff would surely be the death of me.

"D'you have any CDs at all?" she asked, joining my side when she noticed me staring at the shelf.

I crossed my arms, glancing at her. "Don't get me wrong. I'd love to collect them, but it's just so much easier to have Spotify, y'know?"

My intention wasn't to make her laugh, but God I was glad I did when her eyes crinkled and the sound rang around the room, making my heart pinch with adoration.

After giving me some of her pyjamas, the two of us got ready and brushed our teeth before I realised she wanted me to share bed with her.

"You wanna watch some TV before bed?" she asked, clearly not registering my hesitance to slide into her Queen-sized bed.

I swallowed hard. "S-sure."

She turned on the TV at the end of her bed as I slipped in beside her, still a bit rigid as I kept a fair distance from her.

"What you feeling? Comedy? Drama? Horror?"

"Anything is fine with me," I said, still tense.

She hummed in acknowledgement before leaning down on her pile of pillows behind her, edging closer to me. My heart was hammering in my chest as her hair tickled my arm from where she was laying.

"You comfortable?" she checked in, leaning backwards so her head was upside down to see me. "I have more pillows if you need them."

I offered her a small smile, hoping it disguised my nerves. "I'm good."

She nodded before flicking through the channels and eventually settling on reruns of The Office. It took time, but I eventually overcame my initial shock of sharing bed with the girl I had a major crush on and instead relaxed, getting comfortable under the covers.

After watching some TV, we called it a night and fell asleep quite quickly, the day taking its toll on us. For once, I wasn't panicking about doing something stupid. I simply fell asleep, trying to ignore the heat she emanated from beside me.

It was a peaceful night – her bed was super comfortable – and I woke up to the sound of Wanda moving about in her bedroom.

"Shoot, I'm sorry, did I wake you?" she asked when she saw me moving about under the blankets. I tried to blink away the sleep as she continued, "I was gonna wake you soon. School starts in an hour."

I rubbed my eyes, yawning, before sitting up and seeing she was practically already dressed. That meant she would have been up for a while, meaning she would have seen me fast asleep. God, I hated when people saw me sleeping. It always felt so weird.

"It's okay," I got out tiredly, before running a hand through my hair.

"You sleep well?" she asked, spinning around in her chair, her makeup half done. "I tried my very best not to use you as a teddy bear."

She was joking, but I felt my neck grow warm at the thought and damn, it was just way too early to be flustered.

"Yeah, I slept great," I settled, feeling her gaze on me. "Thanks again for having me over."

"Anytime," she said, and something told me it wasn't just a friendly response but that she actually meant it. Maybe it was the kind smile on her lips as she said so. "Just like last night, if you wanna use anything in the bathroom, go for it."

I gave her a thumbs up, taking a moment to wake myself up a little more, before heading to the bathroom to brush my teeth. When I returned to Wanda's room, I saw she'd already made the bed and had laid my clothes on top of it.

"I've got a shirt you can borrow," she said when I grabbed my jeans.

"Oh, I can just wear the same thing again, it's no biggie," I told her, already grabbing my shirt.

She pouted before grabbing a shirt from her closet. "Just hold on. You'll love it."

In no time, she came out from her closet and held out a Paramore tee shirt on a hanger towards me.

"I got it from the last concert I went to," she explained. "I thought you'd like it."

I couldn't help but smile at the thought. "Wow, Wanda. Really? You don't mind?"

She nodded, shaking the shirt as emphasis for me to take it. I did, having a look over it and smiling to myself.

"I'll wash it and give it back to you tomorrow," I promised, taking it off the hanger and holding it with my jeans. "Thanks."

"You can keep it," she said, scratching the back of her head apprehensively. "I've got loads."

"Oh, no, I can't do that," I began to deny, but she shook her head.

"It's fine, I'm giving it to you," she said, before smiling sweetly. "I'm sure you'll look better in it anyway."

Again with the warmth spreading up my neck...

"I doubt that," I quipped with a small smile.

"Go! Go get changed," she said, already pushing me towards the door. "I'll meet you downstairs for breakfast."

I snickered, letting her shove me into the hallway, before heading into the bathroom to get ready. The shirt was oversized, so there was no need to be worried it wouldn't fit. It was actually really nice, plus I liked it that extra bit more knowing Wanda gave it to me. Though I knew I wouldn't keep it. It was hers and she was just being nice.

When I finished making myself look presentable, I headed downstairs and found the twins at the kitchen counter, chatting between themselves. Their chatter ceased when I walked in, with Wanda biting her lip and looking me up and down with satisfaction.

"I was right," was all she said, making me nervous. "You do look better in it than me."

—

The day after that, I did as I said I would and returned Wanda's shirt to her, washed, folded and ironed. Knowing she wouldn't accept it without a fight, I left it in her bag when she wasn't looking during class.

I should have expected her to approach me at my locker afterwards.

"It was supposed to be a gift," she said, and I saw her pretty face reflected in the mirror hung inside my locker.

I turned around, already knowing what she was talking about.

"I told you I couldn't accept," I said politely, giving her a small smile. "I appreciate it though." She seemed disappointed which obviously didn't help with my feelings for her, so I took a leap and added, "Maybe I can get my own at their next concert. In the summer, right?"

She picked up on what I meant and smiled, stifling a laugh. Running a hand through her hair, she met my gaze and I found myself frozen in place as always, unable to look away. I wondered if she knew what she was doing when she did that, knew that she was giving me heart palpitations every time her lips turned into a playful smirk and dark eyes studied me curiously.

My eyes drifted to her lips subconsciously and she must have put on some lip balm or something, prior to finding me just now, as they looked shiny and pink and just so damn kissable. Nate was one lucky guy.

—

Having faced issues with Nate three times now (AKA the three times he happened to launch a football at my head), I'd figured I wouldn't be seeing the last of him. He was a dick, meaning he had a natural inclination to piss people off, particularly me. But I never thought he'd go for Y/BF/N.

We were chilling by our lockers, chatting about his film project, when his books suddenly got knocked out of his hands and he was shoved against the lockers. I straightened up when I saw it was Nate, looking pissed off as he had Y/BF/N's shirt bundled in his fist.

"What the hell are you doing?!" I shouted, trying to shove him off, but he merely pushed me back.

"This isn't your business," he said to me before glaring at Y/BF/N, who was quiet with panic. "You. You've been hanging around my girlfriend and I don't like it."

The colour drained from Y/BF/N's face as Nate slammed his hand to the lockers beside his head, startling him.

"I want you to stay the fuck away from Wanda!" he ordered, and students were starting to pick up on the fight that was clearly about to break out. "You fucking hear me, you nerd? Stay the fuck away!"

Poor Y/BF/N nodded his head, eyes avoiding Nate's. Meanwhile, I was angrier than Nate probably was. Y/BF/N had done nothing wrong. Maybe Nate had just seen Wanda hanging with me and because Y/BF/N was always with me, assumed the worst. Either way, this was no way to handle the situation and I was not gonna let this dick threaten my friend.

"Get the fuck away from him, Nate," I said through gritted teeth, glaring a hole into the side of his head.

Nate barely glanced my way. "I told you this isn't your business, honey."

"Five seconds," I said, standing behind him as a crowd began to form. "You've got five seconds or I'm gonna kick you."

He seemed to ignore me as he tightened his grip on Y/BF/N's shirt, only pissing me off more.

"Five," I began to count down, the grip on my books tightening with nerves and anger. "Four."

He still didn't look my way, just kept slapping Y/BF/N's face to scare him.

"Three, two, one," I said quickly, tired of giving him the benefit of the doubt.

Without waiting anymore, I kicked him between the legs with full force, watching as he instantly let go of Y/BF/N and doubled over. Everybody began to laugh, some making 'ooh' noises, but the consensus was clear – it definitely sucked to be Nate right now.

I tried not to laugh as I watched his face scrunch with pain, turning red. I was starting to appreciate my choice of wearing my doc marten boots today.

"No more balls for the guy who keeps throwing them at my fucking head," I got out, jaw clenching.

He looked up, his face crossing with realisation as he recognised me. In response, he glared in my direction, but it didn't faze me.

"Come on, Y/BF/N," I said, looking to my startled friend. "Let's go."

"What on Earth is going on over here?!" a teacher's voice rang out in the distance, and I groaned internally.

When I turned to leave, I heard Nate from behind me, grunting with dissatisfaction.

"Fuckin' dyke," he mumbled under his breath, and I paused, clenching my fists.

"Y/N, don't–" Y/BF/N tried to stop me, but I was too pissed to care.

I spun around and punched Nate square in the face, feeling good as his smirking face scrunched in pain and his back hit the lockers from the impact.

"Woah!" a teacher came out of nowhere, shoving herself between us and pushing me away from him. "What the hell is going on here?!"

I shook my hand to ease the pain on my knuckles, though the pain couldn't stop the grin on my lips as Nate raised his hands to his face, holding his busted nose. Students were going crazy, egged on by the potential fight, and for once, I didn't mind the attention. Nate had that coming for a while now.

"Everybody back to class! Now!" the teacher yelled, glaring all around her, before her eyes settled on Nate and I. "You two. Nurse's office now."

Nate glared at me behind his bloody nose and, once again, I tried not to laugh. Y/BF/N patted my back, amazement written on his face, before letting me leave with the teacher and an unusually silent Nate.

—

Kicking Nate in the groin and punching him in the face wasn't something I did to get attention, yet that's exactly what happened. Word of the incident spread around the school quite quickly, so much in fact that even students from other grades became aware of the situation and were approaching me to tell me how awesome I was. The whole thing was definitely strange, but I could tolerate it.

What I couldn't tolerate was having Chemistry after lunch and wondering if Wanda knew.

Would she hate me for punching her boyfriend? I wasn't sure. I just knew that when she walked into class and sat next to me, I felt everyone's eyes subtly watching us as if waiting for her to explode at me.

I'd been given an ice pack for my bruised hand after my visit to the nurse's office earlier whilst Nate had been treated for his broken nose (the fact that I'd broken it was hilarious to me, since I knew I wasn't even that strong). The principal had a very angry yell at us both in his office, neither of us willing to reveal the premise of our fight, before giving us detention every day after school for two weeks straight as punishment. Of course, Nate got his two weeks at a different time to mine for fear I'd punch him again (he definitely didn't like that, but he couldn't exactly say that to to principal).

I didn't bother using the ice pack in Chemistry for fear Wanda may ask what was up. I successfully managed to hide my hand and as a second surprise of the day, Wanda mentioned nothing about the incident. Not one thing about her boyfriend, about Y/BF/N, about any of it. I thought she might hint at it, trying to get me to bring it up. But she didn't which made me think she actually had no idea it even happened. Had anyone told her? Had he told her? Nah, probably not. His fragile masculinity probably caused him to change the story to something else so he didn't look like a wimp in front of his girlfriend.

Whatever it was, I was safe for now.

Thinking I'd got away with a confrontation from Wanda, I went about the rest of my day as usual. Well, that was until I was replacing some books in my locker at the end of the day and saw Wanda at her locker behind me, arguing with– yep, you guessed it. Nate.

Y/BF/N was collecting some books from his own locker beside me and we both exchanged looks as we saw the two lovebirds in a heated argument. Just when we were about to leave, someone cleared their throat from behind us, making us turn around.

Wanda was stood there, backpack hanging from her shoulder, beside Nate, who looked like he would rather be anywhere else but here.

"Hi," he started quietly, making Wanda clear her throat. He glanced at her before looking to Y/BF/N. "Look, man, I'm really sorry about earlier. I was wrong about what I said. We cool?"

I tried not to laugh at the way Nate was being forced to apologise by his girlfriend. Y/BF/N glanced to me with questioning eyes, so I simply shrugged.

"I guess...," he finally answered Nate, still a little awkward.

Nate nodded before looking to me. He still had his reservations, judging from the twitch in his expression, but for Wanda's sake, he kept his cool.

"I'm sorry for treating you badly," he said reluctantly. "With the football and just generally."

God, it was so hard not to laugh in his face right now. His nose had gauze taped to it and it made him look like an idiot. I fake coughed to disguise my smile, before meeting his gaze.

"It's, er, cool," I said, not in the mood to be an arsehole to him, even though he deserved it. I'd punched him – I think we were equal for now.

He nodded, before staying quiet. Glancing to Wanda, he waited for her to say something. She rolled her eyes and nodded for him to leave. When he was gone, she sighed tiredly.

"I only heard about what happened after Chem class," she said, mainly to me, a guilty expression on her lips. "I'm so sorry he acted like a jerk."

I chewed my lip, unsure what to say.

"It's okay, Y/N here took care of it," Y/BF/N said, smiling with amusement at me. Okay, well now she definitely knew.

"Yeah, sorry you felt you had to do that," she said with a grimace. "I guess he deserved it though."

"Kind of," I agreed, before noticing the regretful frown on her lips. "He apologised though. It's already happened. I kinda broke his nose... No point in dwelling on it."

She smiled, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Yeah..." Her eyes fell to my bruised hand before lifting it gently. I winced at the ache, but let her hold it, studying the purple bruise painted across my knuckles. "That looks bad."

It felt good punching him though, but I wasn't about to say that since it was her boyfriend I was talking about.

"It's alright," I said dismissively, shrugging. "Nate kind of got it worse. I'll live."

The pad of her thumb stroked the bruise gently and I held my breath, the feeling of her hands holding mine sending shivers up my arm. Her eyes flickered to mine, softened with guilt, before she let go of my hand.

"I should head home," she said after a pause. "I'll see you both tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow," Y/BF/N said for both of us, sensing my loss of words.

Wanda held my gaze once more, eyes half lidded as they glanced down. Before I could even question what she was looking at, she waved goodbye and left.

"She's either starting to realise what a dick her boyfriend is or she's just really into you," Y/BF/N said, patting me on the back. "Maybe both, who knows?"

—

"You definitely cheated," I told Y/BF/N once we finished yet another round of air hockey. "Nobody wins six times in a row like that!"

He laughed at my expression. "Tell me, dear Y/N. How would I cheat? The concept of the game is simple, really. It's not my fault you're terrible."

I rolled my eyes lightheartedly. "Seventh time's the charm. C'mon."

He chuckled, about to put more money in the machine, before his eyes got distracted by something behind me. "Well, would you look at that. The Maximoff twins are here."

"Very funny," I said with a knowing look. "You can't throw me off like that. We've established I'm already terrible. Now c'mon. Let's go!"

"I wish I was joking," he said, shaking his head.

I scoffed, not believing him, and turned around to prove him wrong, but I was surprised when I saw Wanda and Pietro walking into the arcade we were in. They seemed to spot us instantly, waving in our direction before approaching us.

"Fancy seeing you here," Pietro teased with a smile as they stopped before us.

I cracked a smile as Y/BF/N joined my side. "We're hanging out. And you?"

Wrapping an arm around his sister's shoulder, he tugged Wanda close to him. "Sibling bonding time."

Wanda rolled her eyes at his childishness, but I could tell she found it endearing all the same.

"Well, if you want, you can hang with us," Y/BF/N offered, and we all looked to him, myself raising a brow his way. He seemed to sense my reluctance, it egging him on as he grinned at them. "Y/N doesn't mind. Do you, Y/N?"

I swallowed hard as I looked between the twins. "'Course not."

And that's how I found myself playing arcade games with the Maximoff twins that Saturday afternoon. It was actually pretty fun, with Pietro being as competitive as I was and Wanda being the sweetest loser with everything she played. It was so adorable, but I ended up letting her win some games of skee-ball just so I could see that cute nose scrunch of hers as she realised she'd won.

"You gonna let me win like that, too?" Pietro caught on as he took his sister's place in playing against me. He had a mischievous grin on his lips and I felt my mouth go dry at what he was implying.

"You wish," I said, playing it cool, though I wondered if he cared that I clearly let Wanda win. He wouldn't read into it, right?

Pietro took his go as he spoke. "So, I heard what happened with you and Nate at school last week."

I closed my eyes, cringing at the reminder. Pietro merely laughed.

"You kicked him super hard, right?" he asked excitedly. "I heard his face went so red with anger that you could fry an egg on it! And don't forget that punch, goddamn what I would pay to have seen that!"

"Pietro!" Wanda scolded from behind us as her and Y/BF/N played air hockey. "Don't be a tool!"

I felt my face heat up with embarrassment as Pietro continued to laugh. Y/BF/N joined in whilst Wanda tried to hide the smile dancing on her lips.

"You're not even together anymore," Pietro called to Wanda between laughter. Wait, did I hear that right?

"You and Nate broke up?" Y/BF/N asked with disbelief. "Our grade's 'it' couple broke up?"

Wanda ran a hand through her hair to distract from her flittering eyes. "He treated you horribly last week. Both of you." She glanced my way before looking at her shoes. "He was a jerk. It was long overdue... Also, I would have broken up with him there and then had I known what he'd said to you. I'm sorry he said what he did."

She stared at me with apologetic eyes and I wasn't sure what to say or do other than nod awkwardly and look away. The fact that she'd broken up with him put a smile on my face though.

"I just think it's awesome," Pietro admitted, before saluting playfully to me. "Thank you for your service. I knew you were awesome, but this is a whole new level."

I sighed, attempting to hide my smile, before straightening up to play. Pietro and I played some skee-ball before I decided to have a go at the claw machine. Wanda was at the one beside me, attempting to win herself a fluffy black cat plush toy. She'd had three goes before giving up, admitting to defeat.

"Typical Wanda," Pietro teased. "Giving up when the going gets tough."

She punched him in the arm, making him jump and rub it. That elicited a smile from her, making me laugh at their immaturity.

"How about Wanda and I go and get a table in the diner next door whilst you finish up winning whatever it is you're trying to win?" Y/BF/N asked, looking to me, as if assigning blame.

"I already told you, I'm not leaving this machine until I win at least one thing," I stated stubbornly.

"The amount of money you've put into the machine won't make up for whatever you win," Y/BF/N teased with amusement.

"Just go," I said, waving my hand dismissively. "I'll be there soon."

"I'll wait with her," Pietro said, resting a hand on my shoulder, making me shrug him off jokingly. "See you soon," he added with a laugh, to his sister and Y/BF/N.

When they left, I looked to Pietro with an amused smile. "I don't need you to look after me, y'know."

He shrugged and looked through the glass of the claw machine. "I know. But I stayed to give you some advice, princess."

"Oh, really? And what advice is that?" I asked, before putting some coins in the machine to have another go.

"People usually tend to win these things for people they like, right?" he asked, nodding to the plush toys in the machine.

"Or for themselves," I corrected with a curious smile. "Take Wanda for example. How badly did she want that cat?"

He crossed his arms, smiling with amusement. "You could win it for her, y'know."

"What?" I asked, half paying attention as I attempted to grab a teddy bear.

"Win the cat for my sister and give it to her?"

I ended up dropping the teddy from the claw as I looked to Pietro with shock. He laughed at my expression, leaning against the machine.

"You do like her, right? Otherwise this is awkward," he added as an afterthought, looking down and smiling to himself.

My jaw hung open. "I– er– I never really– I don't–"

"She must definitely like you," Pietro noted, glancing at me.

I licked my lips as I found my words. "Did she," I cleared my throat, "did she say something?"

"Well, no," he said, "but she looks like she wants to murder me every time I hang out with you."

"That's just a coincidence," I said, shaking my head and looking back to the machine. "She's not–" I thought about, before shaking my head again. "No."

I appreciated Pietro's help, but Wanda definitely didn't like me like that. She was just protective of her brother and friendly to me. It didn't mean anything.

"Look, you don't have to listen to me," he said, straightening up and looking at the machine as I slotted another coin in. "But you could give it a shot. See what happens."

I glanced at him, his blue eyes watching me knowingly, a matching smirk on his lips.

"Fine," I gave in, hoping it wouldn't backfire. "Let's see what happens..."

[yesterdaysanswers]

At that point we moved on to phase two: the clothes. At that time we often associated with Greg Lake and I had the unfortunate idea of ​​telling him that he had some really nice jackets. He had them made to measure, white leather, and in concerts he took them off regularly and threw them to the fans. People threw themselves onto them, grabbed them and tore them up, according to a timeless rock ritual. I liked this a little, but it also hurt my heart because I said to myself: "But how much will you spend on these theatrics?”. In fact it was not a small problem, it was always necessary to distinguish between the various items. Greg's jackets were part of the production costs of the show, in short, they weren't money coming out of his pockets; a bit like what happened to the instruments devastated on stage by the Who. As I said, we weren't good at money at all, and in fact, even that time we came out fleeced: the look for the show cost us several thousand pounds, but we found out later.

In short, we all go to Greg Lake's tailor. I start: "I'm a drummer,” I tell him, "and I've always used the kimono because I'm comfortable with it. And I need something that can be seen well even if I'm sitting behind the cymbals and drums…ok?". He nods and takes my measurements. Then he asks me to draw him a drawing. I dust off my talents as an artist or former artist - and let's not forget the legacy of father and mother, tailors - I go ahead and throw down a little sketch for him. He elaborates it in his own way and after a few days he comes up with something that is a cross between Star Wars and Flash Gordon, with two immense winged and pointed shoulder pads and a large white heart drawn in the middle of the chest, all edged with sparkle. I was a bit doubtful, but I thought that after all, they were stage clothes... In short, it goes on: underneath with the others.

Franco did not want to hear reasons. "I play with the T-shirt", he cut him short, and in fact, with that new "American" good boy hair from Casalpusterlengo, it wasn't too bad.

"At least put on a jacket,” we try.

"Yes, but then I take it off and stay in my shirt."

"Like fuck,” I tell him. "You take off your jacket, you stay in a nice comfortable T-shirt and I'm here like an idiot banging with my wings. So, if I have wings, I don't want the sleeves because I sweat!"

"Ok," says Mauro, "then we'll get a shirt with puffs."

"Yes, bravo, let's put the puffs on and when I trigger the drumsticks I get tripped up inside and you’ll be laughing…"

"Then I'll make the sleeves with the puffs", he replies. "He does a lot of Pierrot, he is very beautiful with the violin..."

Of course Greg Lake, who never minded his business, didn't miss the opportunity to get his nose into it.

"Look, Mauro,” he says, "it's perfect! You dress up as a Pierrot, we put a nice candelabra on the organ, and when you go into it like a damned madman with the violin you take the bow, do zinzinzinzin and pam!, as if it were a sword blowing out a candle. And then zinzinzinzinzin and again pam! blow out another candle."

And while Greg got excited jumping here and there, all absorbed by his idea, Mauro’s mood grew darker and darker.

"This is crazy, this is crazy,” he tells me in Italian. “In short, either we make music or we do the circus, let's talk about it..."

In fact, we were unable to get into that perspective. All the English bands were quite tacky in these things. At the time, Emerson, Lake & Palmer were terribly busy with their monster trip Tarkus, you see. There was an armadillo, made of papier-mâché, with people inside that pushed it and made smoke come out of its nose. We weren't going to go that far, but at least the clothes were worth trying.

When Flavio's turn came, someone jumped out saying that he would be well dressed as a page. At the time, fairy tales were in vogue: wizards, witches, fairies and whatnot. They were clothes you could find all over the place, in King's Road, in Kensington Market, in all of London. Basically we managed to convince him, and the tailor makes him a pair of beautiful tights with vine leaves that roll up his legs and a beautiful bunch of grapes on the crotch.

Flavio was stunned. "How the fuck do I go out with grapes in front? I get on the keyboards and that thing hangs there between my legs..."

He didn't want to hear reasons, if there were any. Well, in the end our search for the look was a failure. So everyone continued to do what they liked.

(my translation of an excerpt from Due volte nella vita by Franz Di Cioccio)

[xunolic]

oh okay okay. Can I request a woodz smut where he’s on a world tour or something and bc of the stress of the tour he had no time to jerk off hence hes sexually frustrated so his staff suggested for an escort service and they call your company or whatever and they chose you to go to him and then smut? thank you :)

paring: idol!seungyoun x blackgirl!reader

warnings: switch!youn, switch!reader, slight food play, oral (m. recieving), fingering

wc: 3.4k

✎ genre: smut, fluff

a/n: not proofread buuut happy new years eve guys!! stay safe :))

“have you seen seungyoun?”

“woodz you're on in five.”

“where did he go?”

seungyoun had locked himself in his dressing room bathroom, making sure to keep the light off so no one knew he was in there. he panted softly, palming the bulge in his bottoms, trying to find any sort of satisfaction. he groaned out of frustration, knowing he wasn't content. he was stuck on a tour bus and plane so often to where he had been left with blue balls for months. he was pulled from his thoughts from the sound of banging on the door. 

“yeah?” he answered, pushing himself from the wall he was up against. he opened the door, looking at his manager square in the eye. his manager let out a held sigh, rubbing his temples in slight annoyance. “what's wrong?”

“oh, nothing. you were just supposed to be on in like…” he looked down at his wrist although no watch was there. “3 minutes ago.” seungyoun showed no interest, walking past his hyung. he grabbed water, walking towards the stagehand. his manager followed closely behind, knowing something was wrong. he tapped his shoulder, seungyoun ignoring him.

“seungyoun. what's up with you?” he asked, staring at the back of the man's head. seungyoun shook his head, walking up to the side of the stage, the music starting slowly. the concert felt like a drag for seungyoun, just the last few. he made sure to give his best, but his manager, for the past concerts, had been concerned. the ride to the hotel was awkward, his manager stealing glances at him every few seconds.

“hyung, if you have anything to say, say it,” youn kept his eyes on the buildings and people that passed by, his chin resting in his hand.

“you know you can tell me anything right?” he said, continuing to steal glances at the 24-year-old. seungyoun nodded as they reached a stoplight. he looked over to his hyung, who was already looking over at him.

“what’s up?” he asked, turning the music down in the car.

“you saw my phone, why don't you tell me.”

it was true. he had looked through the phone of the younger male’s and found what he was watching. he stiffened, looking back at the road, driving yet again. he had to find a way to get him out of the funk he was in.

it was 11 pm, and the older man was on the phone with a company that he believed could help seungyoun whilst on tour. “yeah. do you think she’ll want to travel? okay… that’s good… okay i'll be there in two days. see you then.”

the next day rolled around and seungyoun had to make his way to the next city. you on the other hand were struggling with the courses you decided to take in college. you sat in your bed, frowning at the screen, your friend on the phone.

“i'm just saying, university is such a damn hassle. i can't believe you dropped out and left this struggle for me.”

“sorry, i couldn't do it, babe. it was stressful, but how is that job you've been doing.”

“the amount of rich, divorced men that pay big bucks for having a nice pretty girl on their side, surprises me.”

“so, any good sex stories?” she asked, a curious tone hinted in her voice.

“i don’t fuck them. i’m not a prostitute, i just accompany them to like big dinners and stuff, but i did one time. it was the worst ever, it’s like he hadn’t had sex in years, and after he cummed, i left. i had to do the heavy lifting myself when i got home.”

“damn… oh shit. i got caught, gotta go back to work. bye, baby.”

“bye,” you hung up the phone, heaving a sigh, closing your laptop. you took a break from the work, your phone ringing again. you answer putting the phone up to your ear, walking into the kitchen. “pack right now! oh my goodness y/n, this is big.”

“um… cora, please slow down. why am i packing?”

“oh, i forgot i didn’t tell you. okay, so i just got a call from some korean man about how he is a manager to some company and he needs you for a tour. people get very lonely on things like that.” 

you sat in the bed, eyes training on the sheets. “this better not be another fucking underground rapper. the last time i did that, he wouldn’t let me leave.” a shudder leaves your body as you recall the memory engraved in your head. that night sent you home with tears. he was a good looking guy, but his intentions were the worst, making you fear going anywhere near people like that man again. 

“y/n, i am not letting anyone like that near you again. plus, this must be a big artist for offering 1,000 a city.”

you choked on your spit at the amount that left your boss’s lips, thinking how to respond. “they leave from here today. i know this isn’t enough, but you have this time to decide okay. text me if you have your answer anytime soon.”

you nod knowing she couldn’t see you, mumbling an okay before hanging up your phone.  your body reacted before your mind did as you stood up walking to your closet. you took down suitcases, not knowing how much you’d need. you took two, hoping it would be enough. picking out several outfits, your mind suddenly came to. you stared at the belts and jeans in your hands, thinking if you were gonna do this.

you pack up the bags, sitting them at the door, picking your phone up. you texted cora telling her you’d do it and she responded quickly telling you to meet up with them tomorrow. you tried clearing your mind, sitting your phone and laptop on your desk. your head started hurting before you laid down to sleep, mind fogged over with thoughts. 

seungyoun’s manager woke him up early, like 2 am early, making him rush to the car; they were fifteen minutes late. seungyoun wasn’t sure of what was happening but got into the car nonetheless. he stared out the window as they finally pulled up to the relatively small building. getting out, they were greeted by the translator who worked at the building, with a smile on her face. as they were walking into the building, seungyoun looked around trying to get a grasp on the situation. they walked into a room that looked like the normal company meeting room. you looked up catching the view of a young-looking guy. your eyes lingered on each other before both he and the manager sat down.

you couldn’t stop looking for the whole meeting. he was really good looking, and it seemed he was in the same situation as you. his eyes never left yours for the fifteen minutes you were in there. cora, looked over at you to confirm your decision but traveled where your eyes led. she let out a chuckle, shoving you softly with her shoulder. 

“i said, do you want to leave with them today or do you want them to fly you out in like two days?”

“i-i can go today…” you mumbled, seungyoun smiling but then looking at his manager with wide eyes.

“oh.. yeah. she’s coming with us,” he said, placing his hand on his shoulder. he looked over to you but you were already standing to get the things that you had already stuffed in your car.

the two men went to the car leaving one side open for you. you let out a small gulp, saying bye to cora before leaving for what you thought would be a simple trip. 

boy was you wrong about the simple travels. you had been gone for three months, gone to almost ten+ cities, and there was finally one city left on the tour. you realized from the first show it wasn't just some underground rapper you were working with. you were shocked (maybe turned on, you didn't know) by how charismatic seungyoun was on stage. you had grown closer and attracted to seungyoun over these months and to your dismay, he hasn't tried anything with you. both of you had noticed the tension from day one, but he kept his distance when it came to anything sexual. you could tell he was frustrated, but you never brought it up. since it was the last day, you felt you should congratulate him for the hard work he did in the past months.

it was time for the encore stage, so you tried sneaking out before seungyoun saw you. 

“y/n?” 

“oh no,” you mumbled, turning towards the voice. seungyoun was there, sweat wetting his neck and the white tank top he was wearing. your eyes trained on his sweat glistened skin, eyes trailing on his tattoo-covered arms and the shirt almost glued to his torso. “i-i was just um.. g-going back to the uh.. hotel to surprise you with something f-for the end of the tour.”

he had his lips tugged in a smirk before nodding, “ahh. okay. well.. i'll see you back at the hotel.” you smile softly, walking to leave in the back. “the surprise better be good.” you heard him say before you felt the warm air of the night hit your skin. you walked to the van, making sure to get the extra key to seungyoun’s room before leaving. immediately after the car stopped, you ran into the hotel, getting everything ready for him.

it took about an hour for him to get back and you were laid upon his bed, a cake right beside you. you received a text from his manager telling you they made it and you rushed to turn off the lights and light the candle on the cake. you sat at the foot of the bed, biting your lip from nervousness just as you heard the door click and seungyoun turning on his light. 

“fuck..” he murmured. there you sat, the lingerie fitting you in the best possible of ways. 

“surprise,” you said, voice shaken from any nervousness you had before. he closed the door, focusing on you. you stared up at him, standing and walking up to him with the cake in hand. “blow out the candle.”

he tried prying his eyes from yours, but it felt like he couldn't. he blew out the candle but kept his eyes on you. you bit your lip, nodding to the bed, “go sit.”

he took his shoes off and moved to the bed, sitting on the edge of it. you sat the cake down on the bedside table, straddling his lap. he promptly placed his hands on your waist, looking down at your lips. “you were struggling this whole time and didn't tell me. why?”

“i didn't want to bother you or you know… push myself on you like a horny dog.”

you let out a small giggle, rutting against his growing bulge. his grip tightened on your waist, pushing your already soaked core on his jeans. your face fell in the crook of his neck, sighing softly. “you aren't supposed to be pleasuring me.”

he laughed, not loosening his grip on your waist. “what? i finally get to fuck you aren’t gonna let me?”

“i had plans. now let me do them.”

he let go of your waist and sat back on his hands, “go ahead.”

you grinned, shimmying your way off of his lap, grabbing at his thighs. you placed a soft kiss on the tent that was still growing within his tight jeans. he let out a soft whimper by the apparent tension against the fabric. 

“you want these off, i bet,” you said, kissing again at his strained cock.

he sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, looking at you nodding swiftly. you began handling his button and zipper, tugging it midway before trapping the metal between your teeth. you kept eye contact with him, dragging it down the rest of the way. you pulled his pants down his waist, massaging his thighs, laughing lightly as he tried to find any sort of friction, thrusting into the air. your hand reached up to stroke him through the thin fabric of his boxers, a groan leaving his lips.

“you’re so fucking sensitive,” you giggled. your hand worked on his clothed member, watching as he sucked his lips in, trying to contain the bawdy sounds that were longing to come out. your fingers latching onto his waistband, pulling the material down, his dick finally being freed from its barrier. 

you stared at his dick, the precum leaking from his tip. you felt yourself grow wetter and wetter, rubbing the wet substance from his slit on your thumb. you brought your thumb to your tongue, licking it, feeling the saltiness spread on your taste buds. he wanted nothing but for you to wrap your lips around him, but you kept teasing. your hands worked on his shaft, watching more cum leak out, making your mouth water. you couldn't stop yourself as you dragged your tongue from the bottom to the top of his cock, he shuddered under you, a soft groan leaving his lips. 

you wrapped your lips around his bell-rounded tip, swirling your tongue. his hand went to grab at your hair, tugging at the roots. you let out a soft whine, deepthroating before pulling back, seeing the trail of saliva coming from your lips. you guided him back into your mouth, slowly bobbing your head. your hand twisted around him, your mouth working magic. he grabbed at his shirt, stripping it away from his body. your hands gripped his thighs, moving the head of his cock to the back of your throat. you hollowed out your cheeks as much as you could, sending the utmost pleasure into seungyoun. 

“you’re so f-fucking good,” his breathing began to pick up, his hips meeting your mouth. he twitched in your mouth and you pulled away just for your mouth to be laced on his tip. you pulled away with a pop, staring up at him.

“look at me younie,” he looked down at you with hooded eyes, one of your hands traveled to his abs, tracing them with a finger. your other hand continued to fondle along his shaft, his cum coating your tongue, your cheeks, and chin. your hand didn't stop until you knew he was finished, smiling at his fucked-out look. you wiped the remaining cum, putting it in your mouth, swallowing. you crawl on his lap as he brought his hand to your face, bringing it to his. he finally brought his lips to yours for the first time. you let out a satisfied sigh as he laid you down on the bed, your head resting on the plush pillow. he moved his hand to your back, unclasping your bra, groping your breasts gently. his lips connected to the soft mound, one of your nipples between his teeth. he sucked on the bud, moving to the other to give it the same attention. his hands caressed your sides, marking your breasts with hickies.

he pulled your panties down, rubbing your clit with two of his fingers. you let out a soft moan, an airy chuckle coming from his lips. “who’s the sensitive one?” you laughed softly, getting cut off by his fingers slipping into your sex with ease. he pumped his digits slowly, the wet sounds coming from your slick, his eyes glued to your body and the way it reacted to just his fingers. his other hand grabbed your face, kissing your lips again, lying beside you to watch his fingers disappear in you. you pulled away, looking down your body, his wet fingers spreading your labia. your moans poured out as his finger thumbed at your clit, rubbing small circles. he pushed two fingers back in your clenching hole. 

you grabbed his arm, your head lazing to the side, to bury in seungyuon’s neck. your hips started to match the movements of his fingers, imprinting crescents into his arm. your whimpers were of desperation, his fingers speeding their pace. “shit. please d-don’t stop.”

he smiled softly, curving his fingers. you let out a shaky moan, biting your lip, continuing to stare down at his fingers. his palm connected to your clit, fingers curving and driving into you. 

“fuck, right there.”

“mm. you're taking my fingers so well baby.”

you nod, squeezing your eyes shut. you spread your legs wider, grabbing his bicep. he continued his movements, until your hips bucked up into his hand, cumming around the two fingers that were knuckle deep inside you. seungyoun moved his hand under your chin to tilt your head up. you fluttered your eyelids, eyes glossed over, parting your lips. he leaned down, lips once again connecting with yours. he slipped his tongue in, moving his body to hover over yours. 

pulling away, you stared into his eyes. “t-there’s condoms in the drawer.” you pointed at the bedside table, resting on your elbows. 

“since when?” he chuckled, sliding open the drawer, taking the foil packet out of it. 

“since i put them there.”

he stroked himself before he tore the package open, slipping it on, shifting in front of you. “ready?”

“more than.” 

it took no time for his cock to stretch your walls. you gripped your thighs, letting out a slight groan, closing your eyes. he gave you time to get used to him before thrusting his hips. he started slow, leaning down peck your lips softly. he looked over at the cake, an idea popping into his mind instantly as he eyed the frosting. he leaned over, gathering some of the frosting on his fingers, tapping your lips slightly. your eyes opened, licking your lips of the sweet cream, opening your mouth, accepting his fingers in. he groaned at the sight of his fingers in your mouth as you sucked and licked them. you looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, grabbing your breasts, his thrusts becoming deeper.

“you're so gorgeous,” he grunted out. he gripped your waist, hitting various angles in you, leaving you a moaning mess. his fingers were still in your mouth as he tried to pull them out. you let go, your dribble trailing from his fingers. he leaned over collecting more of the cream, licking his fingers, but not swallowing it. he leaned down connecting your lips, the frosting spreading in your mouth as well. his tongue played in your mouth, the substance becoming mixed with the saliva in your mouths. his thumb met with your clit, letting out a growl in your mouth as you clenched one time around his groin. you let out a moan, grabbing the sheets, his pace picking up.

“oh my gosh, seungyoun. harder, p-please.”

he took notice of your plea, proceeding to bruise your core. seungyoun sopped up the view of your body under him, crying out his name in an attempt to take in the pleasure he was giving. your back arched off the bed, grabbing the pillow. his dick curved perfectly, hitting the spot you needed to feel that coil start to twist in your abdomen. 

“i-i’m close.”

“so am i. just hold on for me,” he said, holding the side of your face. his hand moved from your face to your breasts, gripping the flesh as his thrust became sloppier. “we’re gonna cum together okay?” you nodded, trying to keep your eyes focused on him. he connected to your clit again, and that's all it took. you were sent off the edge, breath rigid and sweat moistening your body. seungyoun threw his head back, groaning loudly, twitching inside of you before releasing his cum in the condom. sweat fell from his brow, as he calmed down his body. he slowly pulled out, you whining from the lack of him in you. he pulled his condom off, tying it and tossing it. he laid beside you rubbing your hip softly, kissing your forehead. 

“thank you,” he said softly. you looked up at him, a smile on your face.

“so was the surprise good or what?”

he laughed, “it was great, but now make me a promise.”

you looked at him, waiting for his proclamation. 

“keep in contact with me, even after i leave for korea.”

you grinned, leaning up to his lips. “of course i will. maybe i could visit and we could go on a proper date.”

he nodded, sporting the same smile as you. he kissed you softly yet passionately, pulling away before wiping the sweat from your forehead. “round two in the shower?”

“i'll race you,” you got up, taking off to the shower, seungyoun racing behind you.

[heichou-dancho]

A rant to save my own sanity

Something that has become more dominant in the last few years, but especially this half year, is people indirectly criticizing my looks, telling me how I should change them. Nagging me about my lack of effort, that I need to change my hair, use make-up, that I need some sort of style. That I'm wasting my youth.

My current style: T-shirt at home and blouses when I go outside with jeans. The blouses are actually expensive, often older pieces, and I know this is not really a style but,

My current life: Doing housework, cleaning stuff, gardening, caring for a person with dementia mostly unable to move. It's a good week when it doesn't involve diarrhea. Who is the poor idiot who can clean that up? Me.

So fucking excuse me, for not wearing expensive make-up and dressing nicely for a day that involves me throwing soiled diapers away. For not buying 150 Euro dresses that I have no occasion to wear anyway, because I have to be careful about having enough money every month to pay for my health insurance, and leaves nothing for special occasions. For not investing time in my hairdo, because nobody will see it anyway.

"You will feel better if you dress nicely! How will you ever get a good job if you don't know how to dress?"

Oh, screw you. I'm overweight in a world where XL-shirts are tailored for women with A-cup sizes. Buying clothing sucks. I know how to dress for an interview. My problem with getting a job is not knowing how to dress. It's the damn depression, the dyscalculia, and if I win the mental health problem bingo next month, ASD too.

But the worst is ... I have tried to dress more feminine. I want to develop a style, I want a different haircut. I know skin needs some care. But the same people who tell me all the things above, about how they want me to do xyz, will tell me, when I talk to them about trying something I like, that it's wrong. That it's too difficult. That I can't pull it off. It's too much work. It doesn't fit me.

Of course, they still think I should change. But not like that. But if I ask what they think is the better alternative ... I get no answer.

These are not strangers. They're family and friends. People who go to punk concerts. People who use their student loans to buy bio-fruits and rare chinese teas to make their own hair-products.

All the freedom for them. Always conformity and abiding to opaque rules for me.

I'm good enough to haul human feces away (something they told me they "would never be able to deal with"), to help them whenever they need it, but too dumb to try out a vintage haircut and live with the (gasp) risk of it not looking good.

There's no encouragement whatsoever, except from my therapist. Never positive feedback, only another complaint about how I'm not doing it right. Even using a can of fucking hairspray is something I supposedly can't do properly.

But washing the hair of my sick relative in bed is something that only I can do. And nobody will ever complain about that. Or ask if I need help.

And that is what is killing me.

[fuuckdudewtf]

HEYAAA

Last friday i went to my first death metal(ish) concert, I'm pretty new at the scene and I'm a baby punk so it was really important to me. Here's some things i noticed:

- People there are nice... like SO nice, i was wearing my crust pants and did some Liberty Spikes, people would stop me to say my hair looked nice and that they loved my pants and my style, i felt really loved

- Went to the mosh pit and surprise surprise everyone was SUPER NICE AGAIN, people would help people stand up if they fell and when i was falling over a guy pulled me so I wouldn't fall... it was really sweet and really violent at the same time

- CUTE METALHEAD BOYS damn they're everywhere, in Brazil we have a name for people who only like guys with long hair, it kinda translates to "Shampoo Mary"

- BEER BEER AND MORE BEER, never seen people drink as much

- For the first time in a long time I didn't felt weird, I didn't felt like i was weird and wrong and when people talked to me they really wanted to listen to me, we would talk about music and bands and movies and NOT ONCE they said i was a poser for not understanding something or not knowing something, they would simply explain it to me and get exited about sharing

- GIRLS IN BLACK WITH LONG HAIR AND COLOURED HAIR AND DRESSES AND BAND SHIRTS AND AAAAA I LOVE GIRLS

- Never, not once i was groped. nor was i scared of someone putting something on my drink, it was an open bar and they had water bottles and the keg was in a visible place so it wasn't really a problem

- A guy was rude to me, like screaming at me for a joke i said and people STOD UP FOR ME, they told the guy he shouldn't be screaming at me and shooed him off and hushed to ask if i was okay(people are nice but there's always an asshole)

- WE ARE ALL FRIENDS. it doesn't matter if you don't know them, if you need something they'll help

i think those are the things that stood out the most, over all it was a really cool experience and I'm really glad i went, I've never felt so loved and never had such a strong sense of belonging somewhere

BUT HEY: here's some pics i took there

( the Last People Standing, whe we're there to the end and the band wanted a pic, it was a really small show so it was easy to fit everyone in one picture) (try to find me I'm the bitch with blue liberty spikes)

(this is me very much drunk off my ass and very much in the parking lot where i said to my friend "hey take a pic of me with the flash on so i can feel cool")

[lickingyellowpaint]

You seem to have a real passion for collecting antiques. Specifically WWII stuff. What was the draw?

@doppleganger-rental - answering your question and then some...

Suffice to say, antique stores make me dreamy and breathless and peaceful and excited all at once. I could get super-poetic about that but I'll save that for poetry itself.

Some of my first childhood fascinations inevitably came with the warning, "Now, be careful with this - it's very old." Mom was a history teacher. Dad was a hoarder with a special fondness for vintage cameras, dusty old metal toys, and a best friend whose big band concerts are some of my first memories. Grandpa served in WWII but passed before I was born. Great-aunt (who served in Tokyo but in a safer, more ladylike role) had collected delicate dollhouse furniture for 30 years before I came along. I spent long stretches of summer in the southern part of the state, where 100-year-old barns and plenty of ghost signs were the norm. We have an 1800s celebrity in the family genes, too, so stories have always been told and a certain appreciation for the past always ingrained.

And it's possible none of this would have mattered to me at all if I weren't so constantly surrounded by vintage stuff, and weren't such an avid reader as a kiddo. I loved Little House on the Prairie, Catherine Called Birdy, Summer of my German Soldier, Caddie Woodlawn as much as I liked Babysitter's Club.

I fell in love with every era except my own, it seemed.

Hell, I outright rejected my own, and grew into the most pretentious 8th-grader you could meet. Everyone was obsessing over Britney and N*SYNC; I had a little CD carrier full of Who CDs and schlepped around a giant Beatles picture book at recess. I had grown up on jazz standards, the oldies station and the Stop Making Sense VHS, and I was dead certain that everything else was garbage. Everyone was gaga over Timberlake while I was swooning over James Dean. I came home after school, where I simply couldn't relate to finding the Backstreet Boys cute or talented, and put on records. Records were one of the first collections. (And oh, the stories I could tell about the 60s rock stars I've met, but that's another post maybe.) Anyway, you get the idea.

Another important detail: I'm a writer, and have aphantasia. Sucky mix. If I wanna write about the past, I have to see and touch the past. It's just a thing. The lifelong interest and passion ties in with that necessity nicely.

In my current phases of collecting, I'm kinda emotionally compensating for a lot that I've, super unfortunately and regretfully, lost. When I turned 13, I was gifted an ornate trunk and a book, both 100 years old, and those were my first non-miniature pieces. Some years later, the trunk got lost in a move (goddamn it), as did the posters signed to me by a casual friend who was a well-known acquaintance of the Beatles just-pre-Hamburg (extra goddamn it, god fucking damn it!), an 1890s wedding dress gifted to me by a family friend, some family heirloom silverware as well as a couple other things.

Now that I can afford to buy more pieces, I have vowed to take way better care of the things that fall into my adoring hands. And I definitely have my favorite eras, and antique and vintage are different animals.

Victorian: I was writing a book about a Victorian historical figure. This plan has since died since someone else beat me to the punch, but while trying to reach out and touch/see/feel that time enough to write about it, I ended up collecting all sorts of old photographs, a nice hairbrush set, 1800s newspapers - mostly paper stuff. When the Victorian obsession was full-force, I couldn't afford shit, so stuck to whatever was cheapest at the shops (and to this day, a gloomy mood will send me to the nearest antique store for a $2 pick-me-up of an old picture.) I did luck out in my early 20s, befriending a fellow violin enthusiast who had inherited his grandfather's library and would occasionally have one-dollar sale days, so as a result, I've got about 50 books from the 1800s. I think the oldest I have is 1827, but I'd have to peek at it again to be sure.

1960s: Records, clothes, magazines, advertisement pages, jewelry - it's a mod mod world and the aesthetic hill I've been dying on for 20 years. I mainly shop thrift store, and if it looks like something Pattie Boyd would have worn, I'm buying it (and then popping to Target for tights in the right color to go with.)

1940s: Records and magazines mostly. So far, anyway. I like it the concept of branching out into more items well enough, but the older stuff is, the less affordable it's going to be for my budget.

1950s: This is a newer thing for me, but where I'm spending most of my fun money. (No lie, I live off dollar store groceries so I have more saved to buy vintage.) The color palettes of that era! God! Disgusting in the best way! I've got plenty of records and magazines, plenty of militaria, but the Philco TV is the indisputable gem of the collection.

Speaking of militaria...

WWII: Look, I know just as much about WWII as anyone else who'd choose World War II in Color documentaries as an entertaining weekend watch. I'm not into the weapons and Nazi stuff the way many collectors are. I've got a mid-40s medal ribbon bar, a near-pristine 1944 officer's coat and some letters soldiers wrote home (which I'm about to get more of next week.) It's interesting but as for passion, you're off by a few years...

Korean War: Blame MASH! I sure do!!! As collectibles go, Korean runs cheaper as a rule than WWII. But again, zero interest in weaponry or technical gadgets. Letters, some uniform pieces, various paper stuff and most recently, a couple of 'sweetheart pillows' with intent for more. My mom asked me what I wanted for my birthday in March and "more Korean War stuff" was my main answer. (I could've said an eye doctor visit or new phone - thanks, family plan - but hey, I never said my priorities were sane, just priorities.) If it came down to dire need for funds, I'd sell the WWII pieces before I ever sold any of this. Don't ask me why.

What's beginning to feel sort of gloomy about it all, though, is that I've been something of a doomer since my teen years. I've never strived too hard in life for the usual things - higher education, good job, good money, house, kids, etc. - partly because debt's a trap but mainly because of climate change stuff. Shit's fucked and getting more fucked by the year. If subconsciously I'm cultivating and holding onto all of this to someday pass down for the enjoyment of future generations..... lmfao. We're on borrowed time at this point, truly.

I will love and protect what I can, for as long as I can. And I really, really, really do love it. From the great-aunt's vintage dollhouse furniture and my grandma's locket with the only picture of my grandpa that I have, to the eBay and antique store finds I take a shine to, nothing excites me like having the past in my hands.

[runawayolives]

Best friend's little sister. Part 1.

This is a fic about Henry during the filming of the Tudors and up. There might be flashbacks or flasforwards. If there are, they will be indicated in the tittle.

I hope you enjoy it.

And remember, requests are always open!

Henry was sitting in front of a Terminal at Jersey's airport, excited to start filming this new show he had gotten a role for.

He was playing Charles Brandon for a show named The Tudors, and he couldn't be more eager.

He took his phone out and sent a message to a childhood friend who lived near London, remembering he had offered a room to him for when he came.

Will, hey mate, I'm at the airport, see you in around two hours.

He waited for some time for the reply.

H, I'm not home, I'm on a business trip.

Y/N is there, and I'll be back in a week.

Y/N was William's younger sister. They all went to Stowe together, and they were close friends. Henry never spoke too much to Y/N. She was his friend's younger sister, but he never thought of her like that. For Henry, Y/N was one of the cool girls at Stowe.

She was extremely grunge when they were teens. She was sassy and sarcastic, but also extremely nice to people. She had that "rock player" persona. Long messy hair and several rings on her fingers.

She had a knack of breaking the schools dress code. For having too many rings or for wearing doc martens instead of the required shoe. She also enjoyed proving teachers wrong and having extremely challenging questions.

When Henry started bartending, Y/N was working at a Guitar store and volunteering at concerts. They worked in the same bar for a few months. Henry served the tables and Y/N helped the teens that had a gig there with their instruments.

Y/N Y/S/N was the coolest teen he had ever met. Last time William spoke about her, she had gone to college to study industrial engineering, something she had always liked.

Apparently, in America, she had met four other guys that played instruments and had started a band.

Henry had bought two of the CD's they had released, for several reasons. He enjoyed rock music, and Y/N had become an even more attractive adult.

To say he had a crush on her was an understatement. He had liked her since he was sixteen, and he was still smitten.

He remembered that she never gave a damn when someone teased her for hanging with "Fat Cavill." She would just ignore them and keep explaining a new rugby game plan she had seen on the latest match.

Henry lived for those moments, when her eyes would shine explaining how a team had won the game from that Saturday afternoon. She only spoke to him about rugby, but he couldn't have cared less.

She would always engage in friendly conversation whenever he was at her house to do homework with Will. When he got the role of Stephen in I find the castle, she had congratulated him and said:

"I can finally say I'm friends with a celebrity."

Henry couldn't remember a time he had blushed so hard. When he got home after finishing the project with Will, he still had read ears. All of his brothers teased him endlessly because of his major crush.

No one was supposed to find out. He was telling his mom about a small concert Y/N had done at a bar, and by the way his eyes glinted, she could tell what was going on.

She had asked Henry quietly in the laundry room, making sure no one heard. Henry's face turned bright red while he was trying to deny it. He gave up after he felt his face burning hot. He couldn't lie to his mom, not even to save his life.

Marianne got excited and told Colin, who then let it slip when he was talking to Charlie during breakfast one day. Charlie, obviously, said in front of everyone during dinner that night.

Henry was worried, knowing he was going to embarrass himself when he saw her. He didn't know if he was excited or scared that he was going to spend a whole week with his crush. He wanted to spend time with her, but he wasn't sure if he was going to be able to function like a human around her.

{}{}{}

Henry payed the taxi driver and stood in front of the Victorian house. The walls were a dark green, and the detail were black. The whole place screamed Y/N, Wich made him more nervous. It had a Bates Motel kind of vive, which made him chuckle. Y/N was a sucker for Hitchcock, and he could tell she still enjoyed his films.

He went up the steps and knocked on the door, eager to see his friend? Where they friends?

He didn't have time to answer before the door swung open. Y/N looked just like in her music videos and pictures. The difference was that now she looked more homey. She was wearing an old AC/DC shirt with blue jeans. Her hair was messy just like he remembered, and it trailed down her back. What had changed was that she was wearing glasses.

She smiled warmly at him, opening the door a bit more.

"Mr. Cavill, come in." Henry laughed gently, and crossed the doorway.

"You havent changed at all, Y/N." She smiled warmly at him. The house had a nice smell. A mix between firewood and clean clothes.

She extended her arms, leaning in for a hug. Henry was shocked for some moments. It took him a while for him to realize that he had a chance to hug her back.

It felt weird, but at the same time comfortable. Henry towered over her easily. He was a head taller than her, and he wasn't complaining. He patted her back, and placed his chin on her head. Once they separated, Y/N fixed her glasses.

"I wasn't really expecting this." Henry furrowed his eyebrows, and Y/N chuckled. "Hen, you're hot." God, he was blushing again.

Y/N turned around, and indicated for him to follow her. "Come, I'll show you the house.

After the small tour and leaving his bags in the guest room, Henry and Y/N went I to the kitchen. Y/N opened the fridge, taking a few things out.

"I was planning on making a chicken salad, but you can have something else." Henry shook his head.

"Chicken salad sounds great."

{}{}{}

They made dinner and sat down on the dining room.

"Congrats on the mysterious role." Henry looked down at his plate, a small smile grazing his lips.

"Thanks, I'm very excited." Y/N nodded. She knew how much Henry liked acting, ever since he was a teenager. "What about you? Your band is getting big." Y/N smiled gently.

"Yes, our manager wants us to go on a tour around the states next summer." Henry hummed, impressed by the fast progress.

"Wow, that sounds big." Y/N swallowed some food.

"Yes, that's what Harold is saying." Henry scrunched his eyebrows. "Harold is our manager." He hummed, placing some food in his mouth. "What's the show about?"

"It's about Henry VIII." Y/N rose her eyebrows.

"Don't tell me you're going to portray the wife butcherer." Henry laughed. Y/N always had funny ways of reviewing history, giving everyone funny nicknames and songs about what their did.

"Nope, I'm Charles Brandon." Y/N laughed, taking a sip from her glass of water.

"I don't know if that's improvement or not." The mischievous glint in her eyes made Henry remember all the times she would tease her younger brothers. "When do you start filming?"

Henry looked down at his watch, checking the date on it. "Two days." Y/N hummed.

"I'm going to guess you're super excited." Henry nodded. Y/N was so easy to talk to. He had forgotten that during his mental breakdown before he came.

Y/N's eyes still held that small welcoming essence like before, but also and intelligent look. Her eyes glinted, as if she knew something someone didn't, or had figured something sooner than the others.

Quan they finished dinner, Henry helped Y)N with the dishes and cleaning the kitchen. During that time, they shared small childhood stories.

"And remember that guy Corey liked, but he was too shy to talk to him, do you needed to ask for his phone number?" Y/N nodded, turning around to face Henry.

"But the guy was super straight, so he though the phone number was for me and tried to ask me our?" Henry nodded, both of them erupting in laughter.

"He had that horrible fake American accent, and only wore flannels with jeans, no matter the weather." Henry remembered.that guy perfectly. Corey would never shut up about him, and Y/N would tease Corey about his crush.

After cleaning the kitchen, they went into their separate bedrooms. Henry tossed and turned for some time, still not believing he was going to live with Y/N for a week. He took his phone out and texted Corey.

Mate, I'm with Y/N. Don't know what to do.

Corey was soon to answer.

What do you mean?

Henry texted back.

I'm living with my teenage crush, I don't know what to do.

Does Y/N not have mirrors in her house?

?

Henry, you're hot, she's hot. I don't know why you two aren't married yet or something.

You're weird.

Don't try to deny it, hotshot.

Thank you, I guess.

Night

Night

[whole-lotta-hoes]

Whole Lotta Hoes| Crack Fanfic Mini Series

Episode One: Zeppelin Is No More

Episode Two: Looking For A Job

Episode Three:

Episode Four:

Episode Five:

Warning:

This will cause you to lose a couple of brain cells and question your sanity. It will include a shit ton of weird shit and things that don't make sense at all. Do not read if you are not ready for any of this, read at your own risk.

Cast:

John Paul Jones (Main character)

Robert Plant

Jimmy Page

John Bonham

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

Led Zeppelin is a band apparently. It's just a bunch of horny mother fuckers put together to make songs about sex. John Paul Jones was laying in bed with Robert Plant which he has no idea how that happened. He hoped nothing weird went down between them cause Jimmy Page would be so mad. oh jesus oh god you do not want to make that mother fucker mad. He'll literally turn you into a cheeseball and eat you. John got out of bed only to see that John Bonham was standing in the corner eating swedish fish gummies. He was not going to question it.

"Want some?" Bonzo asked him and he held one in his hand.

"I don't know you what the fuck!?" Jonesy yelled. He went to the baffroom and spotted jimmy trying to swim inside of the toilet. He believed he could do it if he tried hard enough.

"the oil supply demand is sky rocketing these days!" jimmy yelled as he got out of the toilet.

"Bitch do not touch me with your boo boo water," He warned him as he grabbed a toothbrush to use as a weapon. He learned how to make a knife with it in jail.

"Penis guitar playing is totes fun jonesy, you should try it," jimmie added. Oh mother fucker he is a heterosexual lad. Or that is what he said the other day when he ate some of robert's caramel popcorn. man he wondered how he even ended up in that stupid band. who's led and why does he have a zeppelin? you know some guy named their kid zeppelin but he claims that he didn't name him after the band. wait what were we talking about?

The band all decided to head to mcdonalds to eat happy meals. jimmy tickles.

"Guys! oh my god you will not believe it but britney is such a slut! ugh! can't believe she left me for a fish lookin' mother fucker-"

"No one gives a rats ass about your weird horny ass!" jimmy cut him off by yelling at robert. God damn that shithead has a huge ego but a small dick. Jonesy never understood why people liked him so much. He once stole his favorite pair of jojo siwa socks and claimed he never knew he owned any.

"You motherfuckers we're supposed to be going on tour!" Bonzo yelled as he swooped the food off the table.

"suck my asshole bonzo!" jim yelled.

"calm down pagey, he's just a meanie," robert added as he patted his head.

"y'all need to start realizing that no one likes you both!" jonesy snapped.

"shut up you're literally ugly and small and the bassist of led zeppelin and you look like heman with that stupid haircut of yours" Bonzo said as he ate jonesys burgers. damn that hurt.

"You know," jonesy began, "i don't need this job"

"what job?" robeet askes.

"shhhhh let the weirdo speak," jimmy said as he stuck his finger into his mouth.

"without me you will all suck asshole and no one will actually like led zeppelin," he explained.

the three slowly looked at each other and began to laugh their asses off at him.

"You act like you matter so much," robert added.

"shut up cheese cream! you're literally big and ugly and you look like you are 50 years old!" bonzo said as he drank his milk. that was funny. Jonesy felt his blood boil and grabbed his happy meal and stormed out.

-

It was the day of their shit concert. led zeppelin were backstage preparing to cause a dismother and set things on fire. preferably roberts underwear that pretty much doesn't exist in this case. the band stepped on stage and the crowd went wild.

"hello bananas-" That motherfucker fell forward into the drum set. oopsies. jimmy ran to him to make sure his hoe isn't dead or alive. fucking bon jovi.

"oh shit! robert plant is down!" he yelled. jonesy was absolutely done with them. they are nothing but a bunch of dumb fucks who ruin everything. He took out his laser penis and shot jimmy and robert to death.

"oh Motherfucker has a fucking laser pp! hija de su pinche madre!" jimmy yelled as he split in half. robert died again. bonzo just sat there blown away by the fact that that john paul jones just killed the front man and the guitarist of Led Zeppelin in front of millions of people. he was impressed.

"holy shit man you really-"

nope sorry but jonesy shot him too so he died. damn he could've let him live. meanie. oh wait im writing this so i could've.... ah man im too lazy to go back and fix it. too bad we're going with this plot now. Jonesy stepped off the stage and headed to the back.

"god dammit i hate everyone in this bloody world," he said to himself. he decided to hit the pub that was nearby to enjoy himself.

As he was sitting at the counter drinking something that is an alcoholic beverage. he began to spark ideas of what he could possibly do since led zeppelin died. He thought about starting a whole new band but he remembered that what caused him to kill led zeppelin. that was out of the shopping list for walmart. next was to steal money from the bank so he remains rich but he then realized that he is a famous musician and will get recognized quickly. fuck. he then thought of changing his hair to look less like heman cause that insult hurt.

"aha!" he shouted. He finally thought of something that could get him a shit ton of money. He drank the remaining drink from his cup and ran out of the pub.

-

he put on a thicc line of eyeliner, red lipstick, a black wig, fish nets leggings, high heeled boots, and earrings. oh man this is going to be hella great. His wife walked in to see what the fuck this small ass mothertrucker was up to this time. oh man i shat my pants.

"sweetie what the fuck are you doing!?" she yelled. Jonesy turned to look at her.

"led zeppelin is no more," he responded. She was so confused and wondered how the fuck she even ended up marrying heman. she had no idea what led zeppelin is no more meant and was hella concerned for his health.

"be back in a few days," he added as he broke his ankle trying to exit the house and rolled down the hill. oops it's not up the hill anymore. guess you could really say he went down hill. i hate myself so much. he walked down the sidewalk and ended up in someone's house. Motherfucker it's jimmy page's house. he stole his nice trousers or whatever those were. my teacher walked by as i wrote that btw. turns out they don't fit him cause jimmy is also a big hoe and jonesy isn't. shit. jimmy is embarrassing asf. that was pointless of him stealing so he stole his underwear. wait he wears those? imma look it up hold on. i didn't find anything about that so im just going to assume that he doesnt.

there was a picture of jimmy when he was with the yardbirbs and golly that is one ugly Motherfucker! he stole and stuffed it into his underwear. he got out of the house full of useless shit that he did not need at all. Then he forgot what he was doing. Jonesy continued walking down the street only to break his other ankle and rolled down the steep pathway. damn he's one dumb hoe bitch.

-

His laser penis was out of control. he just wanted to have a little me time but instead shot a whole through the wall of the motel be was staying in. god dammit. he removed his pp and switched it out with a normal pp. that's odd. his plan of overthrowing led zeppelin stressed him out. what else do you do when you're stressed? well can't say cause i ain't gotta peener. he got so bored. his days of not being in led zeppelin have been lame and was the worst idea he could even come up with. he didn't know what to do know. he can't just eat your grandma over and over again. he looked at himself through the mirror and oh my god I'm a sexy Motherfucker oh yeah bitch im THE BITCH. he needed to find something that'll keep him entertained for while.

babysitting was a bad idea. he got bitten by a bunch of goblins and gave him rabies. god i hate kids.

"hello motherfucker," jimmy said.

"OH SWEET MOTHER OF GOD DAD SHOES PENIS PLANT! I THOUGHT I KILLED YOU THE OTHER DAY!" Jonesy yelled as he jumped over the couch.

"Nah bitch that was just my twin brother Jamie Patricia Page," He added. "Bitch why are you dressed like a stripper?"

Oh yeah he forgot that was what he was going to do once he killed led zeppelin. he still can but now there's a little bitch with him named james patrick page.

"we should kill robert plant," jimny suggested.

"Bitch i already killed him, you're a little too late you duck whore," he responded.

turns out he didn't actually kill led zeppelin but instead killed their twin brothers.

"You want to overthrow led zeppelin into the trashcan?" Jonesy asked. "Thought that's what you and bert wanted to do...."

"Nah man.... percy is a very stupid penguin and is meanie.... he stole my jojo siwa socks," jimmy explained.

ah damn turns out robert plant is the villain of the story and should be died. he is too powerful. his hair will slice the fuck out of anyone.

"You got a plan?" Jonesy asked.

"i say we steal his pants and burn them and use them as an alternative to oil," he explained. damn science class. then this guy named bonzo showed up and began to beat them with his drum sticks.

"BONZO CALM THE FUCK DOWN! AHHHHHHHHH!!!" james yelled.

"sorry but robert said to beat you both with them!" bonzo yelled back.

jonesy dug through his pants and took out a bunch of swedish fish gummies.

"hey look! fish gummies! come and get it boy!"

"bitch what the fuck I am not some stupid dog for you to be doing that time of shit you small Motherfucker heman lookin hoe short shit," bonzo said.

"GIMME GIMME OH SHIT!" he attacked Jonesy.

jimmy page the god of led zeppelin stood there watching while cheering them on fight fight fight! it got in here so he removed his trousers and threw them at bonzo which ended up knocking him out.

"oh shit! your pants are powerful! we can use it to kill percy!" Jonesy shouted.

"NO! JIMBERT MUST GO CANON!" Jimmy yelled and jumped out the window. all you heard was splash. that motherfucker jumped into the pool and is now wet. that's a disturbing image. Jonesy rolled his eyes and went back to doing whatever the fuck he was doing. it all of a sudden got really bright outside. oh the sun came out cause it was cloudy. but wait! Jonesy looked out the window and spotted robert plant heading towards him.

"IM THE GOLDEN GOD-" that motherfucker fell inside of the pool and sizzled. cual pinche golden god ese no mas anda haciendo puros desmadres y estupideces de mario.

that was the end of led zeppelin.