#v: vocal adrenaline

[a1ecmcdowell]

LIVEWIRE — jj maybank x reader.

livewire (n) — an energetic or unpredictable person; a force of nature. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤthat boy is a livewire; he'll ruin you, or die trying.

. . . or, jj's crashout — featuring you.

includes, SEXUAL CONTENT! MDNI. kinda pwp. crashout!jj. best friend!fem!reader. forced proximity. high stakes. dirty talk. jj is vocal. p in v. unprotected sex ( do not do this they r just so ridiculous & horny ). ( semi ) public. he has absolutely no pullout game but he's forgiven for it </3

NOTES. if the door logic doesn't make any sense realistically ... that's not my business. i'm not writing for realism i'm writing for the JJ GIRLS who want 2 fuck CRASHOUT JJ. also my apology for the quote in the tagline ik its too soon still but i joke 2 cope.

Red and blue littered the autumnal afternoon sky, sirens overshadowing the lyrical chirps of the birds, the scattered winds blowing red and orange leaves down the Kildare streets. 

JJ Maybank is a fucking force to be reckoned with. In his wake, town hall’s alarms reared their deafening screeches, the aforementioned chilly winds blowing in handfuls of leaves to scatter the podiums and the foldout chairs. There’s a lone chair on its side in the middle of the well-kept grassy front courtyard. There’s glass burrowing itself in the dirt, reflecting the golden sun’s light at every which way when you turn your head. 

The other pogues are screaming at him to go, to run, and he’s shocked for a moment. Stood like a deer in headlights at the actions that he took. Who knew how much one boy was capable? All of the destruction that two hands could elicit? 

Oh, and what an empowering thought it is, too: realizing what you are capable of doing when you are pushed to the brink. 

There’s that look in his eyes, before he turns on his heels and takes off into the wood, disappearing like a speck in the small bit of forestry separating town hall from the rest of the downtown area. 

You know what that look means. This is merely the first in his rampage. Fire burns blue in the thin line of his irises, everything else overtaken by adrenaline and fucking rage. 

“Someone has to—” Kie starts, and you realize that you’ve been staring straight ahead at the trees he vanished into, eyes locked on the exact path he took. “Someone has to go, go make sure he’s okay—” 

Sarah’s eyes lock on yours. John B grimaces for a second, like he’s considering it, before he looks at you, too. Kie’s words, albeit vague, had never sounded so directed before. Pope—

Pope is getting tossed against the hood of a cop car, and suddenly, the pogues aren’t looking at you anymore. Their gazes break and shatter away from you like the shards of the window surrounding your feet. 

Your heart is racing. You. Chase him down. And what did they expect you to do? To tell him that this wasn’t him, and to stop while he’s ahead, and to hold his hand and guide him back to safety away from the cops’ sirens and cars that had already broken away from the crowd to hunt for him? 

No. This was JJ, and he wouldn’t stop while he was ahead, and he was going to take the cops on his tail like a challenge to keep going until he cracked — or they did. 

You were the only one that ever understood him, really. That was why their eyes immediately shifted to you when the topic came up that someone had to find him, because even while they wanted to help, they would only drive him further away. Not you. Never you. 

You’re turning on your heel and sprinting before anyone can realize what you’re doing. Not the screaming kooks, demanding lawyers and justice to the unlistening winds. Not the pogues, banging on the remaining cop cars to free him, free Pope, stop this fucking madness— 

It’s like a thin line is painted on the ground between you and JJ. An invisible rope, loose but growing more taut the closer you follow on his tail. 

You follow it. Follow that red string into the trees, letting it tug you along until you break out of the shadowy wood and onto main street. 

A car alarm blares. Glass shards on the trunk of it, surrounding the asphalt around it. You slow to a stop to avoid catching any of those sharp, loose pieces in your shoes. Even now that the imaginary red line has faded, you can see traces of where he went in the path of destruction he made. 

A shop’s window busted a few feet away from the car. A street pole sparking and buzzing lowly, electricity humming through the air like a siren’s song, tempting anyone it came across to touch it. Touch the livewire. 

Just a few feet away, there he is. JJ has an outdoor seating chair in his two hands, and he’s seconds from tossing it through the glass window of the cafe it was in front of. 

“JJ!” You shout, your voice faint beneath the sound of the car alarm, the sparking of the electrical fire, the hum of electricity buzzing all around you. 

His head swivels to look back at you, and he looks fucking vicious. He looks like no matter what you say, he’s not going to stop. Not here. The electricity coming from the dented-in box on the street pole is feeding directly into his veins. 

“Not supposed t’be here,” he calls back, and now that fury is directed at you. As if he ever could have stopped you from following the breadcrumbs he only ever left for you. “Can’t fuckin’ stop me.” 

You crunch glass beneath your feet as you run toward him. It’s too late to do anything about the cafe window; its pieces spill onto the glossy wood floor, some splayed onto the sidewalk. 

“Who said I’d try and stop you?” You ask him once you’re close enough. His hand runs through his mussed blonde hair, tugging the strands straight up. 

His eyes flit to you, eyebrows raised behind the loose strands falling back down over them. “M’not letting you get into this shit, too,” he says just as sternly. “It’s my fuckin’ life I’m ruining.” 

“Why?” you ask him, and it is a genuine question, even though you don’t think he’s going to answer. So you start to spit out your own theories. “Because of your dad? Because of what Luke did?” 

His eyes drop to the ground, squinting like he’s looking for something through the shards surrounding his feet. The bat. The end of it sticks out in front of your shoes. 

You bend down to grab it, holding the hitting end out toward him. His eyes are so dark when they glance at it, and then back up to you. His eyes were always oceanic, but now they seemed to be drowned out by the stormy black clouds that were his pupils. 

JJ’s eyes linger on yours. He’s never really made an effort to read you before, more of a take it on the chin sort of guy when it came to how people were, and what they meant to him. But he studied you now, and it was almost unnerving, trying to guess what exactly he saw reflected back to him. 

His fingers close around the hitting end of the bat in a tight grip, using it to pull you closer to him. He’s holding it out to the side, just so that it can’t go taut and rigid between the two of you, allowing you to be tugged closer than you would have been able to be. 

His breaths come in furious pants, audible once you were close to him. He was a livewire. He was sparking, burning everything he touched, trying to take it all to the ground. 

Destruction was always so pretty when it was at his hands. He did everything with purpose, whether it was for the good of who he cared about, or for his own grievances. 

And this sort of destruction, the kind you saw his eyes fall into once you were close enough to share breaths? It was golden and fiery, and full of promise that would break the thin line between your friendship and something else. 

You knew it in the same way that you knew how to follow that red, invisible line to him. Red because it was a bad idea, a waving red flag, telling you to stop, stop, stop. But it connected the both of you, regardless of its color; so how were you expected to?

“Feelin’ hungry?” JJ asks, voice low and almost sinful with the way that it rasped. 

You don’t mean to balk, but you do. It wasn’t a question you expected him to ask, but the double meaning in it, the innuendo laced words, had you stifling on your own words. “For what?” 

The bat slips from his grip, and it falls to hang loosely at your side. “We broke it, we buy it,” he says with a nod toward the shattered gap in the cafe’s window. “Or… not buy it.” His eyebrows bounce when he looks at you, and he leans in, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “Did you think I was talkin’ about something else?” 

Your face flushes. Then, you drop the bat to shove at his chest with both hands. “Shut up.” 

“What, you feelin’ all hot and bothered, sweetheart?” he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice. “Tryna get some fugitive dick before it’s tossed in the slammer?” 

Your face is hot, the trail of heat from your reddened cheeks traveling like a river stream to your lower stomach. “Shut up, JJ,” you seethe, though it has none of the fire you wish it did. You didn’t know why; you had so much of it running through your blood then that it should have made you sound more fiery than you did. 

“Uh huh,” JJ cackles, his hand lifting to the back of your shoulder, pushing you toward the broken window. Once you’re a few steps ahead of him, his hand claps on your ass. “Andele, andele! Cops on the horizon.” 

It takes every bit of your willpower to not whirl around and smack him back. You don’t, because unfortunately for you, the sting only adds to your stomach becoming molten liquid, and for the other, more pressing matter, of the cops’ lights glowing red and blue at the very end of the street. 

You duck into the hole in the glass, feet crunching down on pieces of glass and debris. He follows immediately after, though when he slips into the building, it’s more stumbling than anything graceful. 

“Head t’the back,” he huffs, nodding toward the push-to-open door behind the front counter. “M’not gettin’ fucking caught before I fuck up that goddamn realtor’s house.” 

Arguing with him is a bit useless. JJ’s never been one to listen to anyone when his mind is set on something. You knew this from the moment that you took off in his direction to find him. Still, you almost open your mouth to make the effort to stop him, so at least you could say you did try. 

He cuts in front of you, stepping around the chair he tossed through the window, hopping over the countertop. He stops when he’s leaned against the door, holding it propped for you. 

“I’d say ladies first, but someone’s takin’ their sweet ass time,” he prods, nodding in gesture to the kitchen. 

You scoff, shaking your head, as you circle around the counter, shoving your shoulder into him when you duck underneath his arm. “Some of us aren’t so akin with vandalism.” 

“Some of us,” JJ mocks, his fingers digging into your ribcage as he falls into step behind you, “need t’lighten the hell up.” 

“I’m sorry, but are the cops not literally outside? End of the road?” It’s useless to humor him and his pestering, but it makes your heart beat a little bit faster, so who are you to make it easier for him and just go along with his ploys? 

He tsks. “Semantics.” His head spins around as he takes in the room surrounding them; typical bakery style kitchen, mixers and cutting boards and ovens, sinks lined up on the back wall. There’s tall fridges and deep freezes on one side of the wall, and parallel to it was— “Aha, there we go.” 

JJ cuts in front of you again, doing a little hop and a skip as he bumps his hip into this new door, tugging the handle down as he opens it. “Pantry, or whatever,” he scoffs, his face twisting up, “doesn’t matter to me what the hell it is. Gonna have to camp out in here, you and I.” 

Of course you were. You’d signed up for this, getting involved in this round of his criminalistic habits, but that didn’t mean you didn’t have the right to be annoyed. Weren’t you lot chased by the police enough as is? 

Still, you step into the pantry, the smell of chocolate chips and something else sugary hitting your nostrils the moment you’re inside. Boxes of ingredients line the shelves, including the ziploc bag of chocolate chips. 

JJ’s snatching it up before you can even process it, diving his hand into it and popping the handful between his plush lips. “Told you. Break it, we bought it.” 

Your eyes roll. Vandalism and theft. Probably a hefty sentence, nothing that either of you could afford with Poguelandia on the brink of destruction and your debts already piled high. 

He zips the bag back up and tosses it back on the shelf. “Walkin’ around like you got a stick up your ass, sweetheart,” JJ muses, his fingers closing around your elbow. “Told y’to relax, didn’t I?”

“No,” you say slowly in response. “You told me to lighten the hell up.” 

One side of his mouth quirks in a half smile, dimple gracing his cheek in the process. “Semantics,” he repeats, and he uses the grip he has on your arm to tug you back into his chest. “I could help you lighten the hell up.” 

“I sincerely doubt it, JJ,” you huff, your expression as unimpressed as one’s could be. “You’re the entire reason—” 

His mouth crashes against yours before you can finish that sentence. His mouth is as soft as it looks, the inner shell of his lips chapped. He tastes like weed, like the taste of it is so familiar in his mouth that it embedded itself into his taste. 

You almost don’t kiss back. It’s one of those things that feels like a bad idea because it is. That pointless rule about no kissing on other pogues went out the window the moment Kie and Pope got their hands on each other, but it still felt wrong, to break one of the rules that cemented the glue that held this group together. 

You kiss him back anyways. The moment that you start to respond to his advances, his tongue sweeps across the seam of your lips, pushing his way in. He starts walking the both of you backwards, deeper into the pantry, until your back hits the wall. 

JJ’s hands drop to your thighs, lifting you up effortlessly to wrap your legs around his waist. Your fingers curl into his shirt, tugging him further in until his chest presses against yours. 

His hands let go of you, the press of his body against yours on the wall and your legs tight around his waist keep you held up. His fingers close around the hem of your dress’s skirt, tugging it up. 

Your eyes pop open, falling down to your exposed panties pressed against his denim jeans. When you glance back up at him, lips still lightly pressed to his, they’re blue again, and glimmery. 

“Tell me to stop if you want me to stop,” he murmurs against your lips, stealing another kiss in the process. “Just… tryna get your mind off of—” 

“The manhunt?” You finish for him, and he laughs breathlessly against your mouth. 

“Mm, m’not doing a great job at distracting you, then,” he teases, one of his hands letting go of your dress, the other fisting the fabric as he holds it up. The free hand’s fingers slide down, down, down, until their tips are pressed on the edge of your panties. So close he could probably feel the slickness leaking through the fabric. 

“This all for me, baby?” he asks with that infuriating amusement curled around his words. “Or is it the danger of all this, too? Like bein’ an outlaw with little ol’ me?”

You aren’t even going to dignify him with an answer. Your bottom lip wedges itself between your teeth, your hands curling into fists against the fabric of his shirt. 

His middle finger starts to rub slow, lazy circles over your swollen clit through the damp fabric of your panties, his lips parted like he’s going to say something stupid about the whine that falls from your mouth—

When the sirens get so loud that it echoes around the small pantry. They don’t dissipate, either, which means…

“The door,” you choke out, nodding behind JJ to the pantry door. He’d shut it behind the both of you, but there’s a lock by the top of it, one of those chain link ones. “The lock—” You try to clarify, your brain a bit muddled. 

JJ’s head turns to glance behind him, and you watch his eyes dance up to the chain, too. He lets out a heavy sigh. “Such a damn worrier.” 

“I’m not—” 

Always useless arguing with him. He cuts you off by gripping at your thighs again with his lithe fingers, lifting you off of the wall and tugging you into his chest. 

You grab fistfuls of his shirt so you don’t fall backwards at the sudden movement, your lips curled into a scowl. 

He doesn’t seem to notice. He holds you in his arms as he walks to the door, pressing your back against this one so he can remove one hand from your leg, and lifts it to chain the lock. 

“Better?” he teases, and you’re about to scowl at him again when you watch the smile drop from his lips. 

Just as suddenly as he’d yanked you from the wall, he’s dropping to the ground, your body falling right along with him, knees crashing into the hardwood floors as you land into straddling him. Your mouth opens to gasp, or swear, or gasp and swear, when his fingers close over your lips. 

The cops. You hear them, then, the muffled voices and muddled words. Through the crack beneath the door behind JJ’s planted ass, you see their flashlights, too. 

His eyes meet yours, and he nods once, his expression grim. You blink, and his eyes are again filled with that glimmering mischief that never, in his life, has meant something good. 

And it was truly delinquent of him this time, as his hands drop to the button and fly of his jeans. Your mouth opens and closes in protest, because there’s no way he’s thinking that you two are going to fuck on some cafe’s pantry’s floor with cops right there—

“Oh, get that look offa your face,” he whispers, nosing your chin up and stealing a kiss when you’ve met his eyes again. “As long as you be quiet, what’s the big deal?” 

“You have nothing but awful ideas in that head of yours,” you snap in a low whisper, through your gritted teeth. “I’m not having sex with you right now—” 

JJ’s eyebrows raise. His eyes fall down to your slickened thighs, to the panties beneath the dress pooling his waist that he knows are wet with your arousal. 

“Fuck you.” It’s so pathetic to say, such a weak argument, but it’s the only thing that you can even think right now. Your heart is pounding in your chest with adrenaline and need and the fact that you can feel his hard dick straining in his jeans against your pussy.

JJ tips his head in a nod, his lips still quirked. “Aye aye, captain.” 

He undoes the restraints on his jeans, and his fingers disappear into the flyguard. Your eyes bounce between his face and his hands, his expression contorted in pure concentration that would be adorable if it wasn’t so seriously not. His tongue’s poking between his teeth, panting like an excited puppy, and you just want to—

“Hop on, baby,” he says triumphantly, and those stupid lips curl into an even more stupid grin. His hands pat his thighs to draw your attention downward. 

Fuck.

Your eyes must darken at the sight of him, hard and leaking precum, because he starts cackling like there aren’t police on the other side of the door, trying to cuff him and throw him in the backseat of a police car. “C’mon. Don’t be stingy now, baby, I see how bad you want it.” 

There are rare moments that JJ is right. Broken clocks right twice a day, or something like that. When he’s right, he’s always dead on, and it’s infuriating. 

You glance up at the little window in the door, and for then, at least, it’s clear. No shining flashlights beaming into the pantry you’re both camping in… 

You make bad decisions far less than JJ does. Still, like broken clocks, you both align sometimes. 

Lifting your hips off of his lap, his hands grasp at the backs of your thighs, guiding you onto his waiting cock, slapping it lightly against your pussy a couple of times before he lines himself up and drags the swollen head of it down your folds beneath your panties. He doesn’t give any warning before he pushes himself into you, a hard thrust that brings him all the way to the hilt at once.

Your lips fall open in a sharp gasp, and just barely does his hand make it over your mouth before the moan falls out of your mouth. One hand over your mouth, the other on your ass, guiding you into moving.

“As much as I love that mouth of yours,” JJ groans into your ear, low and rough like the words are being pried out of his lungs and torn through his ribs, “gonna have to keep it down this time.” 

He’s such a fucking hypocrite, though — the moment you adjust to the size of him filling you completely, stretching your inner walls to accommodate to him, and you start to move on your own? His head tips back against the door, guttural moans underneath his breath. 

“Fuck, baby, just like that,” he manages, and you slam down on him again, his hand dragging your hips forward to grind your aching pussy against his pelvis in slow circles. “Oh, fuck, baby—” 

“Shut up,” you muffle through his hand, even though it’s getting to you too, his palm stifling every gasp and breathy whimper before it leaves your parted lips. 

His hand clasps tighter around your mouth, his heavy, half-lidded eyes boring into yours. “You’re not the one in control here, baby.” 

It’s easy to forget, with him stretching you out and being relatively gentle right now, that he’s higher than he’s ever been. Adrenaline turns people into carcasses of themselves; wearing them down to the bone, using every scrap of energy available. 

His blown pupils are glimmering with it. He’s daring you with nothing but a look to see what happens when you keep running your mouth. His hand relents its hold on your mouth, and the other stills your hips as you stay suspended halfway down his cock.

The whine you let out is something you’ll deny later. The gravelly laugh he lets out is something that indicates he won’t let you. 

JJ smears his hand across your mouth, taking the saliva from the corner of your lips and spreading it across them, your cheek, before his two fingers slide into your mouth. “Not so bossy now, are you, baby?” he asks under his breath, as he thrusts his fingers in and out, as he slams his hips up in that same relentless pace as them. “Not so bossy when I’m fucking that mouth and that pretty little pussy.” 

His words burn from your lower stomach to up your spine, electric everywhere they reach. You can do nothing but take it, your hands on his shoulders for some sense of stability. 

Each thrust has the tip of his cock against your cervix, has his fingers clawing along your tongue as he presses them down on it just enough to pry your jaw open. 

“Lemme see that smile, sweetheart,” he murmurs, those two fingers spreading out into a V, forcing the corners of your lips up and into a wide grin. You sneer, and all that does is make him pound into you harder. “Don’t act so fuckin’ fussy, you’re gettin’ what you wanted, aren’t ya?” 

His fingers press on your tongue again, and your lips close around them again. It’s a good distraction from the way you want to scream. Not like you’d ever put that thought in his head with his ego. 

JJ slows his pace, but each thrust is just as hard, so deep in you that you can feel each of them, each minute detail; the thick head of his cock against your cervix, every inch that stretches you further with each of those thrusts, the obscene sound in the silent room of skin slapping against skin. 

“Baby, m’not gonna last much longer,” JJ pants into your ear, his voice still as rough but with an air of desperation. “Not like this, not with how fuckin’ good you’re bein’ for me, nice and quiet while I fuck your juicy pussy— fuck, baby.” 

He drags his fingers over your lips again, this time down, down the valley between your breasts, your stomach, your navel, until they’re planted right in the hot wetness of your folds. They find your clit and begin to rub the swollen nub, slow and gentle and completely at odds with the brutal fucking. 

You’re good, though, even without his hand covering your mouth. Even with—

A flashlight beams through the glass window above the both of you. Your eyes glance up to see it, and JJ’s staring at the spotlight of gold in the center of the room, just inches from his extended legs.

It flicks left, right, and you see the glimmer in the eyes of the officer right there, face pressed to the glass, hear the doorknob jangle against the chained lock—

JJ doesn’t stop. His pace becomes quicker, more erratic, more desperate. Your jaw trembles with the effort to keep your parted lips from making any sound at all, the precipice so close that you’re terrified of whatever noise is going to come out of your mouth when you cum. 

The beam from the light swings away, disappearing as the officer walks away, muffled words through the walls separating you and JJ from them. 

It’s just in time, too, because you cum with a soft and breathless gasp, your walls pulsing around his cock, your head falling forward to bury into his collar. His moans begin to shudder in your ear, and you know that he, too, is cumming. Feel it seconds later, when your head starts to clear from the haze of ecstasy, as the warmth of his cum fills you, his cock twitching inside of you. 

JJ lifts his fingers from between your legs and pops them into his mouth, the sound of him sucking the essence of you off of them making your legs tremble around him. “Like fuckin’ sin,” he whispers reverently. 

He’s so pretty like this. All spent and molten, softening cock inside of you like an extension of you now. His hand lifts to cup your cheek, thumb brushing stray hairs off of your face in the process. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, just as reverently as before, voicing the same thoughts you’d been having about him. 

“You’re so stupid,” you say in response, not capable of telling him how much you love him, feeling it to be the wrong time, too cheesy, another thing he’ll tease you about later. 

It’s there, though, on the tip of your tongue. I love you. And you do, so much that it aches. This man that’d been your best friend since you could remember anything. This man who sacrificed everything constantly for everyone. 

He wouldn’t have to sacrifice anything anymore, you wanna say. He could rest now, you wanted to say, too. 

But it feels wrong. And there’s always another time to tell him when it doesn’t just seem like bliss-driven thoughts. There’s always another day.

notes, thoguht my grief was over but the ending made me cry for some reason that's how u know this death hit deep bc why am i crying over like four lines in a Smut pls

[inklore]

code breaker

premise: there’s always been something there, between the two of you. unspoken and filling in the cracks of those moments where joel is helping you out of a tough situation and your offering up a thank you and sweet smile. if only it didn’t take bloody knuckles and some band-aids to finally crack the code of that something.

pairing: joel miller x (f)reader

word count: 6.2k

warnings: eighteen+ content, unprotected p in v, smut with feelings really, fem receiving oral, friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, mentions of violence and blood, alcohol mention, toxic exes and relationships discussed, dirty talk, biting and love marks mention, lots of banter, au (preoutbreak).

note: i meant for this to be darker but it turned out wayyy more fluffy and i’m actually really happy about it. i hella edited this but it still feels choppy so if it is i’m sorry ya girl has bad eyes lmao. gif made by me so don’t be an ass and steal it tysm <3

There’s words you should be saying right now. Expressing. Spilling from your mouth in a heap of thank you, I appreciate you, what would I do without you always being there for me…

But they just can’t seem to come out. The speech part of your brain—and your heart—aching and prompting you to speak. To show courtesy, your vocal cords refuse to let you get out. Like your mouth has forgotten its purpose, your throat hoarse from screaming Joel’s name in the chaos of thrown fists, people shouting, men trying and failing to haul Joel’s weight off of the bloodied body below it.

The blood on his knuckles pulls your eyes in like a neon sign: caked, dark, and drying the longer the air gets to it. If it hurts Joel doesn’t state it—show it as he grips the steering wheel. You’ve never thrown a punch before, have never seen something like this up close and personal. You excelled at resolving conflicts before they arose. Never let arguments get past the phase of unfair yelling. But you would assume his knuckles must be aching, even if only a dull pounding.

You know for certain your ex's face is.

Good. 

You hadn’t expected him to show up at the bar, your job. Hadn’t expected him to start in on the possessive act—coincidently the local patrons were less than surprised at the all-too-cliché behavior. The town having labeled him as bad news ages ago. Something you had to learn the hard way, when you finally took off those rose colored glasses. 

Joel had been staring at you for the duration of the exchange. Even after your ex left to hang out with a group of his buddies in the corner, his gaze lingered on you.

"You alright?" He asked as he slid his glass towards you, his forearm leaning against the bar. A wordless nod letting you know he wanted another. 

"Yeah, he’s not the first creep I've had to deal with. It's in our DNA as women to deal with the lesser species of the male population."

"Can’t tell if that makes me feel better or worse as a father."

"Oh," you send him a sweet smile. Setting his refilled whiskey in front of him, "no creep dare mess with Sarah. I’ve seen her make jocks cry."

"That’s my girl, taught her well." The grin he wraps around the rim of the glass makes something girlish—and foolish—spark in your stomach. 

Maybe if you had a man like Joel in your life, you would be less likely to keep making the same mistakes with no-good assholes who are good for a week and bad for the rest of the 358 days. 

A girl can dream. 

And she has. Embarrassingly. 

The two of you had continued to talk, your hip pressed against the bar as you cleaned a glass; perhaps you had been smiling and laughing too hard at what Joel was saying because your ex was back and grabbing you from across the bar in an instant.

An action that quickly landed him passed out and bloodied on the bar floor, and your boss trying to make sure Joel hadn’t taught him too good of a lesson to have him see God. 

And while the adrenaline of shock had been bruising your heart against your rib cage, your lungs devoid of air—when Joel had put his non-bloody hand against your arm, calling your name (the white noise of the commotion in the bar creating an impenetrable barrier to your ear drums), a warm thumb under your chin pulling your attention away from the limp body on the floor and up into his eyes—that adrenaline melted and turned into serendipity. 

Gratefulness. 

Those girlish sparks turning into an entire flame that quickly engulfed you as he asked if you were okay. As he comforted you with a barely there touch on your arm and chin, concern in his dark eyes. Concern for what? Frightening you? 

When your gaze is drawn to his knuckles, his body language responds with a grimace. When you see the gashes only bone against bone brings. 

He’s worried he’s upset you. As if he's done something wrong.

When he insists on driving you home you don’t argue. Wouldn’t dream of it even if the circumstances were different. It wouldn't be the first time he drove you home because your beat-up car wouldn't start or because the weather was bad and your anxiety was high.

That’s the thing about Joel. 

He was always there. 

If you needed help, he always seemed to find time. 

Because of this, and the aforementioned beating your toxic ex to a pulp, you shouldn't be allowing the silence to spread between the two of you like strangers. Like something in the air was making everything awkward, like you hadn’t sat in his truck a dozen times before. Like he hasn’t gotten you out of a pinch (minus the blood) before. 

And after he’s pulled into your driveway, engine turned off, the cicadas and crickets filling the silence, it’s Joel who finally speaks. 

Who cracks that barrier you have mentally been trying so hard to climb over. 

"I’m sorry if I," he clears his throat, flexes his fingers against the steering wheel. "If I overstepped." 

And the ridiculousness of him even apologizing has your mouth finally moving into action. "Joel, no, oh my gosh, no." Your palm presses against your chest as you look at him apologetically; you should be the only one saying sorry, thanking him, worshiping at his feet for this. "I should be the one saying that. I should have handled it myself or-"

"Or what?" He looks almost angry, shocked at your words. "He had a hold of you, and no disrespect, but I ain’t ever seen you kill a fly, let alone throw a punch at someone." 

"Hey! I could punch someone." 

"Could and would are two different things." 

"You sayin I couldn’t?" 

"I’m sayin' you wouldn’t." 

"Not tough enough?" 

"Your heart's too big." 

"If you knew how hard I was holding back the urge to prove you wrong by bruising that bicep of yours, Joel Miller, you’d think differently." Your scowl and threat only seem to amuse him because he’s grinning at you. "You’re lucky you’re injured." 

"I’m shaking in my boots." 

"As you should be." The laugh the two of you share makes your cheeks burn.  On the outside, many could and have labeled Joel as a complicated man. A man who takes a lot of nudging and persistence to get to know past that surface-level workaholic grump he sometimes displays. But he’s a man who would lend a hand at the drop of a hat. A man with honor embedded in his very DNA.

There’s a list you’ve kept in the back of your mind that has every bullet point filled out and doodled hearts around the edges of all the reasons Joel is a good man. A man you trust. A man you adore.

"Thank you, Joel." He starts to shake his head, but you stop him with your palm resting on his forearm, "thank you. "You're right, I don't think I even know how to make a proper fist, let alone connect it." Your soft laugh makes the corners of his lips tick up. "You didn’t hesitate to help me. You never do. It means a lot to me, I hope you know that."

He nods, his eyes only on your face. Listening. Taking in every word you’re saying, even if you know he hates the fact that you’re thanking him for this. But he deserves to know how much you appreciate him.

Your hand moves to his wrist, gently yanking it away from his vice-like grip on the wheel. Your index finger runs along a vein at the top of his hand—the one spot the blood didn’t cake on to. "Does it hurt?" 

"No. Between the callouses and the whiskey, it’s nothing more than a cat scratch." 

"You should still get it looked at."

"You’re looking at it, aren’t ya?" 

Your eyes roll. "I’m not a doctor, Joel." 

"All a doctors gonna tell me is to be more careful, hand me a band-aid, and charge me three hundred dollars."

"Well, in that case," you drop his hand and grab for the door. The dry summer air ineffective to your already burning skin from the man whose raising his brows at you, "I got band aids in the house, and I didn’t get to finish my shift, which means you owe me three hundred in tips alone sooo."

"There's barely three hundred people in this town, and you’re tellin me you make that in tips?" 

"Joel, just get in the damn house." You order, slamming the door of his truck and walking up the path to your front door. Smiling when you hear him huff and grumble under his breath as he gets out. 

A hiss—and a scowl so deadly it could scare away even the biggest and badest of grown men—has Joel’s hand twitching in your hold as you run a wet cloth along the tops of his knuckles. The fabric pulling up the caked on flecks of dried blood, the surface of the cuts along the bone already starting the healing process from being clotted with red. 

"I thought you said it didn’t hurt?" You smirk playfully. 

"Whiskey’s wearin' off," he grunts. 

"Or," you dab the cloth in the small cap of saline solution you’ve pulled from your first aid kit under the sink. Bringing it back to his skin to press gently across his cuts, his body tensing. "You’re human after all," his eyes roll. 

"Don’t alert the press." 

"Oh, they’ve already been informed." 

His hand rests on your thigh as you ball up some tissues to dry the area around his knuckles. Enough to keep the band-aids—the only thing he would allow you to use because gauze would just get in the way at work, he informed you when you insisted—from falling off. The heat from his palm burns through your jeans, and it's a blessing in and of itself that you're ignoring how it makes your insides feel; how your body's warmth is no match for how hot he feels. His legs are spread, body slouched against your couch, his knee against yours. A closeness he’s never been before. A casual touch and directness between friends that shouldn’t be making you feel feverish and cheeky. 

When he flexes his fingers a couple times and his fingertips run along the top of your thigh, you find yourself wishing you’d worn a dress to work. A skirt. Anything to have been able to feel him do that against your bare skin. A thought you chide yourself for. A thought you hope isn’t written all over your face when you look over at Joel and he’s staring at you. Eyes darker, expression unreadable and stoic, in that way you can never tell what emotion he’s feeling at that exact moment. He gives nothing away but still sends your stomach plummeting. 

After the band-aids have been stuck and you’ve cleaned up the mess on your coffee table you offer him a drink. 

"Unless you have to get back to Sarah, then I understand."

"She’s with a friend tonight." 

"You gonna tell her how you saved the day, all knight and shining armor style?" You tease as you walk back to the living room with two beers in hand, putting one in Joel’s outstretched one and the other to your lips. Taking a sip as you take your place beside him once again, this time a leg pulled under you as you face him. 

He snorts, "don’t know about all that."

"I’m sure word has already gotten around. Her friends are probably gabbing about how heroic Mr. Miller is, a real prince charming." You laugh when you see his grin. 

"Or," he says, swallowing the sip he's just taken. "She’ll give me that death glare that all teenagers possess after puberty, you know the one?"

"Oh, I know the one. Mine was so fierce my mother banned it from our house."

"It’s deadly."

"Truly."

"I’m sure prince charming will be the last thing connected to my actions. Rage and jackass sound more on the money." 

You frown. Watch as he stares down at the result of the rage he thinks will now be accompanied with his name. Tarnishing it that now people will forget the kindness that was once there, the man whose hardworking now turned into something vile all because of an act of heroism some might find obscene; with how much blood and possible damage it has caused to one mans face, you could understand why such an act would be. 

But to you—and those who knew how horrible your ex had been, how he had deserved every bone crunching punch, every spit of blood and teeth choked on—you knew that what Joel did was right. And maybe, somewhere deep down in those morals against violence everyone gets handed out to them at birth, you knew that Joel could be sitting in a jail cell instead of on your couch if those punches had been any worse. If it had been pure untamed rage like some will say. 

"You’re a good man, Joel. So you potentially hospitalized an asshole, who hasn’t?" Your heart leaps in your chest when he laughs, and you thank God that your joke landed. Thank him that this man with his disheveled hair that's begging to have a hand run through it, work shirt and jeans looking like they’ve seen better days—is in your life. Not every girl has someone willing to bruise another man's face while destroying the hand that's needed to do their job properly.

No one had acted as quick as Joel had. 

Joel Miller was a good man. 

"What did you see in him anyway?" Joel asks, taking another sip of his beer. His gaze is drawn to you from the hole he was burning into his hand. 

And if you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t know. 

Couldn’t answer that question with the full truth because you didn’t know why you always went for the assholes. The guys who liked to scream instead of talk it out. Who liked to steal money from your wallet for booze or a habit they couldn’t kick. The ones who never remembered your birthday but made sure didn't forget theirs.

Your father had been a great man. Your mother an amazing woman. You couldn’t take the easy way out and blame it on family trauma. 

So you answered with the only viable reason that came to mind. 

"Loneliness makes you ignore all the bad stuff." You take a sip, swallow it down (washing away the pinpricks of potential embarrassment for being so brutally honest with Joel). "It makes you talk yourself out of throwing all their stuff to the curb or burning it in your backyard, because it’s not always bad. Some days are good. Some of them wait to be assholes before the novelty wears off; others wait until you're two years in and they’ve already slept with half the town behind your back. And some will bring you flowers every time they mess up, until one day you look around and realize you don't have any room to put this new vase and there's dried flower petals all over your floors. But hey, at least you’re not lonely, and your house smells really good." 

The smile on your lips fades when you see the look on Joel’s face. See that he’s finding no humor in this story. And the gulp that swallows down the beer in your hands burns your throat the entire way down. Your cheeks are burning, and you have to look away from him. Distract yourself by picking at the label on the bottle. 

"Or maybe it’s as cliché as saying I haven’t found the right one yet." You try to save, nervously chuckling under your breath. In hopes that he forgets everything you’ve just said and clings to this one shitty joke. 

"Look at me."

You do, and you wish you hadn’t. The roughness of his voice makes your stomach swoop and fall like a rollercoaster of emotions you did not prepare yourself for. Hadn’t imagined this being in your future when you’d walked into work. But you’re looking at him. Meeting his eyes. Seeing the stern glower in them before he speaks. 

There’s a million things you imagine him saying. Telling you how much better you are than that, than all of those meaningless assholes. How you deserve better, and you’ll find it someday. Hell, you expect him to scold you with how low his brows are.

What you don’t expect is to feel his lips on yours. His fingers digging into the skin at the back of your neck, his chest inches from your now-heaving one. And it renders you speechless. Still. Your brain not computing with the signals your nerves are giving off right now. 

When he pulls away and looks at you, it takes you several blinks to meet his gaze. The air in your lungs weighing your chest down. You shouldn’t speak. Should allow yourself to get your bearings in order. To catch your breath and sort through everything you’re feeling right now. "Was that a pity kiss?" 

"A what—pity kiss?" 

"Cause of the," you swallow, lick your lips, "of the aforementioned assholes?" 

Joel’s breath fans across your face when he chuckles, "anyone who’d pity kiss you deserves to be added to that list of assholes. And I might be on many asshole lists, but hopefully not on yours." The fingers on your neck skate forward to your cheek, thumb pressed gently along your jawline. His features grow serious again. "I didn’t just knock that asshole out because he had it comin'. And if you haven't noticed, I’m either working or at home with Sarah. Both keepin' me more than busy."

"Too busy to be making house calls for leaky faucets and tarnishing your good name with your fists?" 

"Exactly." 

There's a long pause between you two, as if you're both waiting for the other to say something, anything, to put these unspoken mutual feelings out there.

"Joel, are you saying you coming over to fix my faucet and staying for the occasional beer was you…flirting?" The grin he gives you makes you laugh, "who taught you how to flirt? And please don’t say Tommy."

"No. If I had listened to him we’d be–" he doesn’t finish. Just shakes his head and chuckles under his breath. 

And maybe affirmative action with your hands wasn’t your forte, maybe you couldn’t do what needed to be done when it came in the form of actions. But when it came to words, to saying what you wanted, needed, craved when it was right here in front of you being hinted and teased at, you didn’t hesitate. 

"Maybe you should have listened to Tommy." Your hand mirrors his own, resting on his cheek. You already knew he ran hot from his palm alone. But his cheek feels just as warm as you do, burning right through to your bones. His gaze falls to your parted lips, and a decision is made in the seconds it takes him to return his gaze to yours.

An agreement. 

"C'mere." His lips collide with yours in a heated kiss of nicks of teeth and tongue that taste like whiskey and beer and something that your brain will forever recognize as Joel. A taste you know you’ll be wanting to swallow down again and again. To feel the burn of his beard against your chin until your skin is raw and blotchy from how hard his mouth is devouring yours. An arm wrapped around your waist pulls you into his lap, and your forgotten beers spill and stain the cushions of your couch. "Shit, sorry, let me," Joel starts, but you stop him with your hands on his cheeks. 

"Leave it, just come here." You insist, lips returning to his. 

"Yes, ma’am." His smirk molds to your mouth, wipes away as his tongue runs along your bottom lip to press against yours. A hand on your ass squeezes and presses you forward so you’re grinding against his lap. The seam of your jeans rubs up against the wet patch that's quickly forming on the fabric of your underwear, becoming sticky and clinging to your pussy. Joel's other hand runs down the column of your neck, gripping and pulling you away from his mouth so that his lips can latch onto your sensitive skin. A gasp leaving your lungs, teeth and tongue making you shudder and cling to his shoulders. 

Shoulders you don't let go of until your back hits the mattress and you're both pulling your shirts above your heads, your fingers quickly working the clip of your bra, joining the discarded pile of shirts and shoes on your bedroom floor.

Your heart feels as if it’s beating a hole through your chest, like it’ll fall into Joel’s hands as he leans over your body, knees between your open legs, as his palms run down your chest, between your breasts. Over the globes of them, calloused thumb circling around your nipple. Your breath caught in your throat as you press yourself up into his touch. He’s taking you in, letting his eyes trail every dip, possible mole, scar, and marking on your skin. How your chest heaves in response to his hand. How your breasts fit in his palm. How you gasp and cry into the air when he leans down and swirls his tongue around one of your nipples before sucking it into his mouth, teeth lightly scraping against the sensitive flesh when he pulls off and does the same to the other one. 

His mouth finding its way back to yours again. His hips canting against yours; you can feel his cock digging into your thigh. And when you let your hand skate between the two of you to give him more friction. A dizzying desire to feel more of his heat and need for you burning through your skin and to your core, where you truly crave him. 

The deep grunt that falls from his mouth and onto your waiting tongue sends a shockwave of arousal through your entire body. Being. You want to hear it again, want to pull every noise from this man with your body and mouth until you are both drained and cursing yourselves for not doing this sooner. And you know he wants to do the same. Wants to catalog every pressure point and sensitive bit of your flesh so he can draw this out, can rile you up with a simple touch, scrape of teeth, run of his tongue along your jugular. Until you tell him how badly you can’t stand not having him inside of you. 

He's leaving a trail of kisses down your stomach, his fingers digging into the skin above your jeans, holding your hips still. Preventing you from moving them the way you want to from each press and prickle from his mouth and beard—scalding the nerves of your skin and making your insides whirl. 

"Lift your hips for me, sweetheart." Joel murmurs into your skin as his fingers curl into the waistband of your jeans. Your body feels barren and cool away from his heat as he sits back on his knees, your hips lifting as he frees your legs from their confines. His thumb runs along the lace of your underwear, dipping lower and lower until it’s pressing into that wet spot. A silent, smug praise tugs at the corner of his lopsided smile as his eyes look up to yours.

If your mind was working coherently and not filled with Joel Joel Joel (the way he smells woodsy and rugged, the way something deep and gruff reverberates in his chest when your teeth sink into the skin of his neck, and how he keeps looking at you like a fine art piece hung in the Louvre. Movements quick and gentle as he pulls your underwear down your thighs, making quick work to push your legs apart, fingers digging into the back of your thigh as he lets himself take his time adorning you fully on display for him) there'd be a sassy remark aimed at him.

The callus of his thumb nicks your swollen clit, eliciting a whimper from your lips, your hips following the descent of his finger as it spreads you apart. Trailing a line from your clit to dip into your entrance, gathering your arousal on the pad of his finger, his eyes on yours as he presses it against his tongue. A burning hunger in his eyes as he sucks your wetness from his fingers. 

You're a panting mess by the time Joel positions his head between your legs, arms wrapped behind your thighs, lips, teeth, and tongue trailing up your inner thigh. Your fingers clench the blanket in anticipation, need, and want. The closer his mouth gets to your center, the more you can feel his hot breath moving in, the potential love bites and marks he’s leaving on your inner thigh—all a certain type of torture you don’t think you’re strong enough to put up with right now. 

You lift your head to start begging, to plead with your torturer, but he’s speaking before you can. 

"Wanna take my time, sweetheart." His tongue swirls at the joint of your inner thigh. And just as earlier, the words you mean to get out, to speak from the storm cloud of lust in your head, die in the back of your throat when Joel runs the flat of his tongue up the seam of your pussy. The torturous muscle wraps you around his tongue, following the slowest path to your clit, until the tip of his tongue flicks, making a pattern of strokes and licks, until his lips wrap around the swollen nerve, making you feel delirious. Keeps pulling gasps, moans, and pants of pleasure and ecstasy from your parted mouth; head thrown back on pillows; legs trembling around his head from the blazing fire that grows and grows the more he consumes you.

The more his nose nicks your clit when he fucks you with his tongue, the more his fingers dig into your quivering legs to keep you anchored to the bed and his mouth. 

It feels like hours with how slowly he goes. Keeps you dangling from the ledge with every stroke and suck. Every soothing indent his fingers are leaving in your thigh. Your skin slicked with sweat, knuckles cramped from its grip in the blanket. When your moans go up in pitch he goes slower in that motion, that spot that has you seeing stars. Then he lets your breath come back to you with slow strokes of his tongue at your entrance, giving attention to the other parts of you that you didn’t think could elicit such erotic noises from your lungs. 

Your fingers find their way into those disheveled strands you’ve been waiting a lifetime to thread through. To pull and keep yourself from the feeling of floating away from the intensity of the pleasure. From your orgasm coming closer and closer until you’re panting his name, "Joel, Joel, Joel–fuck," your body shaking, the cries pulled out from this man burning your throat as you finally fall from the ledge and into him; his tongue coated in you, his chin wet with your essence. 

Your body sensitive and heavy as you come down, a sweaty heat making you feel sticky. Joel’s fingers seem to bypass every sensitive part though, as his palm caresses the tops of your thighs, your hips, your curves, the side of your breast. Until he’s reached your burning cheeks, mouth pressing the gentlest of kisses to your lips. The kiss was slow and gentle. Your arousal coats your taste buds when his tongue meets yours.

The kiss feeling more intimate than before, more heady. Knocking you right back on that loop you just got off of. That ache and throb he just sedated starting again in your belly, moving to where your thighs are soaked. 

"You’re overdressed," you murmur against his lips. Joel kisses you again, your open mouths exchanging a breathy chuckle.

"Do you wanna change that?" 

The question holds more than just the surface level of a joke and an answer of "yeah, obviously."  There’s a seriousness to it that makes you pull back from his lips and stare up at him. His thumb traces a soothing pattern into the bottom of your chin, his eyes holding an unspoken reassurance that he’s fine with it ending right here. With him just pleasing you, getting to take you apart and reassemble you with tender touches and a torturous mouth.

It can be all about you.

It is all about you.

You deserve nothing less.

His eyes and soft grin speak unspoken. 

Your nod is slow and reassuring. Your fingertips copy the motions of his thumb against the patches of skin in his damp beard. "Unless you’d rather help me get the stain out of my couch that you caused."

"I caused?" His brows shoot up. 

"It's to be expected when you can't keep your hands off of me," you say before shrieking as he pinches your side. His lips kissing your scowl away—a problem you foresee in the near future.

The kiss lasts for minutes (centuries you wish). Your fingertips never lift from the other's face, moving along jawlines, chins, and cheek bones. His chest comfortably against yours, giving you that heat you missed so dearly. His cock still stiff and hot in his jeans, grinding slowly against your pelvis. 

Is this how it’s supposed to feel? When feelings haven't even been discussed yet, but you just know? Already know what each touch, kiss, and caress holds behind it. Telling a wordless story in the way he had wanted to give you pleasure first—to taste—and take his time making you feel everything his mouth could do. Everything he wanted to do to you.

He wasn’t thinking about himself after the fact. Wasn’t rushing to put you in a position that made it all about his pleasure. Giving you little to no space to cool down, regain your bearings, and have that fire slowly relight and become more tantalizing, as he is right now.

You really did date assholes. 

Your fingers move to his chest, splaying your palm along his body until you’ve reached where he’s hard and pressing against you. Your fingers curl around the outline of him. Stroking, massaging. 

"I want you, Joel." You breathe into his mouth. 

He growls against your lips in something akin to frustration and agony. It makes something inside of you sink, overthink that maybe he doesn’t actually want to push it past the points you’ve already reached. Maybe it’s too much, all too soon, for this new territory of your friendship—even if it already seemed a little too late with the couch confessions and his saliva still coating your center. 

He must see the thoughts volleying in your head because he’s scolding himself under his breath and shaking his head. A soothing touch placed on your skin. "I feel like I’m some horny teenager again, with how bad I want you." His chuckle soothes your heart, "I don’t have-"

And you can't help but laugh at his waving hand towards his pockets and the sentence he's about to finish.

"Jesus, Joel. Bless anyone who's ever thought you were the ungentlemanly type." Here you were worrying about whether or not he wanted you, the proof being clearer than just his dick against your fingers. While the only thing on his mind was protection. 

"Glad I’m amusin’ to you." 

Cupping his cheeks, you pull him back to your lips. "All a girl wants is a decent man to make her laugh, not break her heart, and be able to make her come. And so far you’ve done all three." You let your tongue slip between your mouths and run along his bottom lip, "I’m good if you are." 

I’m clean.

I take a little pill every day because life is chaotic enough and I don’t want any surprises. 

We’re protected.

Now take me already.

The drag of your tongue, the roll of your hips against him, the little whimper you let out when he bites your lip—speaks for you.

It’s all either of you needs to rid Joel of his jeans: hands tangled in belt loops, tugs, pulls, pushing until he’s completely bare in front of you. Your breath hitches when you feel the underside of his cock spreading you and running along your clit slowly and languidly. The heat of him feels nothing compared to your own, the throb and ache of requisite in every roll and drag. 

And when neither of you can stand it anymore, when he’s grunting and you’re begging, he leans up on an elbow, hand wrapped around his cock, lining himself up to your entrance. Your breath leaves your lungs, stomach falling falling down to where he’s pushing into you. Stretching you, filling you until there’s no telling where either of you ends or begins. Attached by that intangible string of pleasure and bliss of only being able to feel each other.

"Fuck," Joel groans. Mouth finding your shoulder, breath hot and heavy. His thrusts start leisurely, taking his time in that way you’re learning he loves to do. Loves to compartmentalize up what you need—more, faster, harder. Going off of the moans panted into his neck, nails digging into his back. 

There's a hand gripped in the pillow beside your head, another at your breast, his mouth connected to your neck, your jaw, your chin, your lips. His hips slamming against your open thighs, thrusts deep, sharp. His cock hitting places that make your back arch, his name strung together with pleas for more. The slapping of skin and wet squelching of bodily fluids between the two of you making a symphony of lewd delight. 

When the hand at your breast hikes up one of your legs, the cry you let out is swallowed by his mouth. The deeper he fucks into you, the more your body shakes, the more you feel him completely consuming you. turning you into someone who will never get enough of this. Of him. Of how good he's making you feel. 

"Sound s’pretty," his tongue brushes against the underside of your chin, teeth nipping at the bone. A trail of him brought down to the shell of your ear. Where his heavy breaths and grunts fill you just as his cock does. Fills you to the brink of pain turned satisfying pleasure, as each stroke brings you closer to a precipice he’s already pushed you from. "Can’t believe I held myself back from you."

"Joel."

"I should knock out every asshole who thought to hurt you, t’not love you the way you deserve. Put you first," he slips his hand between your slick bodies, palm hot against your pelvis as his thumb rubs fast tight circles around your clit. His words getting filthier, ragged. Becoming heaving breaths against your ear as he fucks you faster. As his thumb matches the pace, as you grow closer and closer. Led by his words and pushed over by his cock. 

"That’s it, sweetheart." He’s encourages as you come. As he fucks you through it, as that white-hot heat makes your body contort against his. Cling and squeeze around him. The string of groans and curses, your name mixed with something incoherent but soft and deep, makes your chest swish—bit into your skin as Joel comes not long after. 

And after the two of you have cleaned up enough to call it satisfactory, two new beers condensing on your night stand. Your cheek pressed into his chest as your bodies lay pressed together under your sheet. His chin resting atop your forehead, a soft brush of fingertips at your spine—there’s cheesy grins on your faces, "Tommy’s going to have a heyday."

"He owes me fifty bucks."

There’s faux shock on your face when you turn and lean on your elbow to look at him, "excuse me?"

"He didn't think I'd ever tell ya," Joel shrugs as his hand caresses your shoulder. A fondness in his eyes, "I never do anything for myself." You press a kiss to his thumb, "I think we both deserve something good for once though." 

"I guess I solved the mystery of how to get Joel Miller to be soft," you joke. Nip at the skin of his thumb playfully. 

"I ain’t soft." He grumbles.

"Postcoitous Joel disagrees with that statement," you say. The dramatic roll his eyes do makes you laugh. Your teeth nipping his thumb harder, a bite this time, you shift so you’re on top of him. Sitting up on your knees. "Since this bet is half at my expense.."

"Expense, huh?" His palm grabs a handful of your ass and squeezes, causing you to rock in his lap. His cock already twitching to life again.

"I think we should get you your money's worth," you smirk.

"That's the smartest thing you've said all night," his fingers tangled in your back hair, pulling your mouth down to his in a hard kiss, before you get the chance to at least pretend to be offended.

[intoanotherworld23]

Magic Cock Ride

Pairing: Reader x Joel Miller

Warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY DNI, this whole thing is just smut, car sex, unprotected sex, p in v, swear words, Joel just being absolutely bad

Summary: Stumbling across an abandoned car you and Joel decide to have a little fun in it

Check out my other works on my Hall Of Hunks

"Fuck just like that baby." Joey mumbled against the skin of your neck as you rotated your hips in figure eights.

Keeping your mouth shut otherwise you’d scream so loud the clickers could hear you from miles away. Joel on the other hand wanted to hear you cry out, and was pushing you to.

“Come on darlin open up that pretty mouth for me.” Fake pouting knowing you were teetering on the edge.

“Joel.” Warning him not to be too loud and attract anything unwanted.

Finding an abandoned car along the road since neither of you had seen one in such a long time. Both of you getting a crazy idea, and then next thing you know your lips are pressed together, and your shredding each others clothes off.

"Such a good girl takin my cock so well." He continued with words of encouragement.

He was always one for dirty talk even if you weren't the most vocal. Joel couldn’t keep his mouth shut, and loved watching the reaction on your face every time he said something filthy. To watch you squirm when he said certain words.

"Oh god." You whined quietly as you leaned your head back giving him complete access to your neck. "Love your cock."

"Greedy little cock whore." He growled as his lips attached to your exposed nipples. "You just had to have me right now."

At any moment a clicker could be stumbling by, and the two of you would be screwed. That was the fun of it though. It was like an adrenaline rush at the thought of when of them walking by, and having to keep silent.

"Desperate to feel me inside that tight cunt of yours." Biting on the nubs making your hand reach up to grab his hair and tug. "Always want me to fuck you like an animal."

"Want everyone to hear what a little whore you are." His words only turned you on even more. "Wanna hear you scream my name."

"Joel." You cried out as you roughly slammed down onto his cock.

Your legs becoming very sore, but you still kept going. Pushing yourself as you’d adjust your body so it wasn’t uncomfortable. It wasn’t the best place to be doing this, but you two couldn’t help yourself.

"Fucking say it again." His tone very dark and seductive. "Wanna hear those pretty lips beg for more."

"Joel oh god Joel."

Screaming out as you felt your pussy squeezing him hard making him groan, and grip your hips so hard bruises would form. You really didn't care if anyone did hear you too focused on Joel at the moment.

Your legs covered in sweat as they stuck to Joel’s thighs every time you moved up. Feeling his hands moving up and down your body along with the rhythm of his thrusts.

"Gonna fuck you so hard you can't walk for weeks." Groaning against your chest as he looked down to where you two were connected. "Soaking my cock all ready for me."

It was like you were being wrapped in a heated blanket your body so warm it was melting under his touch. Smacking your hips down just as Joel snapped his hips up gripping the leather biting down on his shoulder. Closing your eyes as you concentrated a lot on not screaming.

"Shit right there Joel." You squealed as his cock hit your sweet spot.

"You like that sweetheart?" His tone teasing as he looked up to your euphoric face. "My cock feel good inside of your cunt baby?"

"Oh god yes Joel please don't stop." Blinking your eyes rapidly as you felt yourself losing control.

"Oh baby I won't stop until your begging me to stop." He chuckled as the scruff of his beard brushed against your neck.

His hands quickly spreading your legs further apart so he could get deeper inside of you. Feeling every inch of him your moans of pleasure echoing all across the room. His hands all over your body intensifying your senses.

"Nobody else can fuck you like I can." A sharp slap was heard and your ass cheek was on fire. "This delicious pussy is mine."

"All yours Joel." Hearing that made his hands come down on your ass again and again making you squeal. "Fuck it's all yours.

"God look at you bouncing on my cock begging for it." He teased as you moved a hand down to rub your clit. His hand smacked it away. "Oh no baby you can't touch yourself."

"Should punish you for doing that." Next thing you felt his hand moving towards your pussy lightly rubbing your clit. "Dirty little whore can't help herself."

"Joel please it feels too good." You whined making him smirk as he rubbed your clit faster. "Shit shit shit gonna cum."

"Gonna cum like a good girl." He spoke as he sharply thrusted inside of you your ass cheeks smacking against his skin. "Gonna cum all over my cock."

"Yes I'm so fucking close." You moaned as you felt that coil in the pit of your stomach.

You were on the brink of your orgasm. Joel wasn’t far behind you either it was just a matter of who was going to explode first. Both of you coaxing the other to embrace that sweet release you both wanted.

"Can feel you squeezin my cock sweetheart." Groaning as his thrusts were slowing down. "Feels so fucking delicious."

"I'm gonna cum Joel." You warned as you felt your insides clenching and your entire body shaking.

"Soak my cock with your pussy baby." He commanded you with a deep moan making you scream as your release hit you in the face making your legs tremble and shake.

"Oh fuck god such a good girl." Joel encouraged as his cock twitched inside of you pumping the last drop. "Fuck I love your pussy."

Getting up his cock slipping from inside you making you hiss. Rolling over as you sat next to him as both of you tried to catch your breath.

Watching as his chest heaved up and down. Both of you covered in a a thin layer of sweat. The windows were completely fogged up. Feeling his warm seed dripping out of you.

"We should probably get back out there." You spoke after a few moments of silence making Joel look over to you.

"Or we could stay here and have round two." He replied with a wink making you laugh at how carefree he was, but his smile disappeared and his eyes became dark. "I'm not joking."

——————————————

Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98 @powellssugarbaby @lora21 @kmc1989 @sullyosully

Tag list for Pedro Pascal: @pedrohoe04 @k-k0129 @marchai @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @milly-louise @kittenlittle24

[mydearzero]

Vocal Exercise | E.M. x Reader

MASTERLIST

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: Your band is about to compete against Corroded Coffin in Battle of the Bands and you're way too nervous. Eddie might just know something to take the edge off (hint: it's not drugs)

Smut, Enemies to Lovers.

Warnings: AFAB Reader, Smut, unprotected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), oral sex (f rec), creampie, Exhibitionism, If I missed any warnings please tell me!

2K words

A/N: I wrote something?? How very unlike me lmao I hope you enjoy this once in a blue moon occurrence

You nibbled at your thumb as you stared at the sign-up sheet. It shouldn't be this difficult a decision, so why was it? You had played in front of a crowd before. Your band was always excited about any opportunity to play. What was keeping you from signing up for the annual Battle of the Bands? 

You heard him before you saw him. The bane of your existence. Eddie Munson. The chains attached to his clothing rattled with every confident step he took. 

You had no good reason to dislike Eddie. There was just something about him that got under your skin, and he knew it. He used the fact to his advantage, even if only to get a rise out of you. 

You refused to turn your gaze to him as you continued staring at the sign-up sheet. Three entries so far, and no Corroded Coffin in sight. Tammy Thompson was on top of the list, as always. 

"Unless you've developed telekinesis, can you move?" His voice, though somewhat attractive, was like nails on a chalkboard. It sent raised the hairs on the back of your neck. 

You grumbled as you crossed your arms, took a step back and gestured to the sheet. "All yours, Munson." 

"What, too scared to sign up? Not like you'll win. Why don't you just let the pros do what they do and keep practising in your friend's basement until you're ready, hmm?" He smirked as he all but etched 'CORRODED COFFIN' into the paper. 

"Oh yeah, the pros, like Tammy Thompson? I'm sure she'll get real far. Can't beat raw talent, Munson." You rolled your eyes as you snatched the pen from his hands and wrote your band's name under Eddie's recognisable handwriting. 

Eddie never moved an inch, leaning against the wall. He watched as you scribbled your bandmember's names and what you'd be doing, never taking his eyes off your disgruntled face. 

Usually, you'd try to not let him have the upper hand. His gaze was knawing, screaming at you to return it. You caved and turned to look. His smirk grew as he chewed his gum obnoxiously. "See you there, (Y/L/N)." 

_____

"I don't think I can do this. I think I'm gonna hurl." You fanned your face as the stagehand came over to give you your microphone headset. The loud music faded to a halt as Corroded Coffin finished their set. 

"We'll leave you to it for a bit, yeah? I'll get you some water, maybe. Just calm down, it'll be fine." Your bandmates gave a thumbs-up as they filed out of the room. 

"Y'know... I might know something to take the edge off." Eddie's voice came from the hallway, peering his head around the corner into your dressing room. His bangs stuck to his forehead, sweat covering his skin. Lucky bastard, he'd already gotten it over with. 

"Piss off, Munson. I'm not interested in any of your drugs." You scoffed as you messed with the positioning of the clunky headset. 

The stagehand left you once she connected all the wires and had given you the last rundown of when you'd be on. Three more acts, two and a half before your mic was hot. You had to get the vocal jitters out now. 

Eddie paraded into the dressing room and closed the door behind him, locking it. "That's not exactly what I had in mind. But that offer does stand." He crossed his arms as he leaned against the vanity. You'd never quite noticed how toned they were or how tall he was until now. 

Perhaps it was the adrenaline rushing through the room, your nerves combined with his post-performance butterflies. You couldn't help but be intrigued. You gestured for him to continue. -

He put his hands on your hips and pulled you to stand between his legs. You frowned as he leaned to whisper in your ear. "Nothing more relaxing than a decent orgasm, babe." 

Your eyes widened as you pulled away from his touch, mouth agape. "What the hell, Eddie! That's not funny!" You slapped his bicep. His eyebrows raised in challenge as he watched your thought process. He saw your horrified face change to confusion before it flushed with shame. You hadn't even noticed you'd called him by his first name. 

He noticed your uncertainty. You loathed him, but he was right. And it wasn't like he wasn't easy on the eyes. He knew you'd been convinced when he stroked your arm and your eyes fluttered at the surprisingly delicate touch. 

Your breath hitched as he leaned close once more. "Let me make you feel good." His touch burned your skin, heat soaring straight between your legs. His lips pressed to your neck, breath hot on your skin. 

A soft moan left your mouth when he sucked harshly under your jaw. "Is that a yes?" He questioned, slowly trailing his hand down your side. You nodded breathlessly. 

"I'm gonna need you to say it, princess." He tutted. You were surprised when a barely audible whine made its way out of your throat. 

"Please, Eddie." were all the words you could gather. His eyes met yours. They were polar opposites. You felt yours were pleading and desperate, while his seemed amused, maybe derisive. His pupils were blown. Whether from the adrenaline, drugs, lust, or a combination of all of the above was uncertain. 

He turned your positions around, pushing you onto the vanity table and getting on his knees. The way he looked up at you through his eyelashes could only be described as absolutely blasphemous. You were convinced he wasn't doing this for you as much as he was doing it for himself. 

He placed his hands on your thighs, ever so slowly creeping up under your skirt. He hooked the tips of his fingers into the band of your underwear, tugging it down. You raised yourself off the table so he could slide it down. He barely got it past your knees as he dove forward, using his hands to spread your legs to make room for his head. His grip on your knees was crushing as he licked a stripe up between your lips. He nuzzled for a little before releasing his hands, opting to spread your lips with them instead. 

A sigh of relief left your mouth as your body melted into his touch. One of your hands was on the table to steady yourself, the other tangling itself in his hair. His lips wrapped around your clit. He circled his tongue around it a few times before slowly sliding a finger inside. 

"Knew you'd be so wet for me." He sounded out of breath as he devoured you. "All bark, but the second the offer stands, you're like a little bitch in heat." He chuckled. You tugged his hair harshly, urging him to shut up and continue. 

Eddie complied and returned to pleasuring you. You could feel him smiling against your pussy, as stupid as it sounds. The bastard was enjoying this way too much. He added another finger and curled them in the exact way he knew would get you close. You felt the pressure build up in your throat as you tried to stay silent. Noise threatened to spill with every thrust of his fingers and movement of his tongue. 

Eddie deemed you close enough, judging by the tight grip on his hair combined with the suppressed sounds coming from your lips. He rose from his knees and wasted no time unbuckling his belt. You tried to listen for the stage to estimate the time you'd have. Eddie spread your legs once more as he positioned himself between them. 

"Wait, Eddie. How many songs have there been?" You whispered as you put your hand on his chest to stop him. "Don't know, don't care. Guess you'll have to shut up and keep quiet." He shrugged as he grabbed your wrist, removing your hand from his chest. He pushed his underwear to join his jeans around his knees and stroked himself a couple of times before lining himself up. 

Eddie pushed the head of his cock inside and roughly reached up your shirt, grabbing your right boob and twisting the nipple harshly. An audible yelp left your mouth. "Shut up." He groaned as he pushed all the way in. Air was nowhere to be found, especially not your lungs. 

He barely let you adjust before pistoning in and out. Adrenaline was very obviously still coursing through his veins. He grabbed your hips and pushed you to lean against the mirror. The lights surrounding it shone down on him, almost giving him an angelic glow. 

His grip on your hips tightened as he changed his stance. Small whimpers and breaths left you, still trying to remain as quiet as possible. Eddie pushed inside relentlessly, chasing his release and coercing yours out of you. He's found the right spot now, he knew by your face. He moved his right hand to lean on your thigh, thumb circling your clit. He grinned as he watched your face, eyes shut tightly. 

The light on your headset flickered, indicating it'd just gone hot. Eddie took this as his sign to hurry the fuck up and make you come. Loud knocks on the door, combined with the music from the stage drowned out the banging noise of you against the mirror and his balls slapping against your pussy over and over. 

Your breathing sped up as you neared your peak. Eddie was getting sloppy, putting more and more pressure on your clit, circling it hastily to meet the pace of his hips. He groaned as he felt you tighten around him. You were so close. 

"Y/N! Are you in here? We're on in three!" Your bandmate yelled through the locked door. Their pleas went unheard over your whines and Eddie's rambles in your ear. 

"I'm gonna fill you up so well, baby." Eddie smiled to himself sadistically as he moaned in your ear. He was going to make you scream his name through that headset even if it was the last thing he'd do. You were gonna kill him. 

The knot in your stomach snapped when Eddie pulled out all the stops, flicking your left nipple, circling your clit with the speed of light and hitting the exact right spot to send you over the edge. 

"Eddie!" You screamed as you came on his cock. He laughed and groaned in satisfaction as he followed, hips stilling and pushing as deep as he could. He looked between you with glee as he filled you to the brim. 

Your eyes widened as you noticed you'd not only screamed his name while your mic was on, he'd just cum inside you, and you had to be on stage in less than two minutes. "Better keep it in, princess. Everybody can probably already guess what we did, don't want to give them more proof when you have my cum spilling from that pretty pussy in the middle of the stage, hmm?"  

He smirked as he pulled his dick out and pushed the spilt cum back inside with two fingers. He gave your pussy one last tap before sliding your underwear back up, fixing your top and skirt and letting you down from the vanity. You already felt the cum trickling out slowly and staining your underwear

You could barely give yourself a last glance in the mirror before he was ushering you out of the door and onto the stage, your flustered band members following after seeing you barge out of the dressing room, Eddie hot on your tail. They'd definitely heard. Which means the crowd definitely heard you scream his name through the last band's performance. 

You'd never felt as embarrassed, yet turned on in your life. Your nerves were long forgotten, the only worry in your mind during your performance being to not let any more of his cum spill from inside you. 

At least you were no longer worried about your singing skills. Too bad Corroded Coffin had the menace that was Eddie Munson, or you'd definitely come first instead of second. Or, well, come first again. 

[seeminglyranch87]

Taylor & Travis Timeline

November 2024 - Part 2

November 8 - Taylor is nominated for 6 Grammys:

Album of the year - TTPD

Record of the year - Fortnight feat. Post Malone

Song of the year - Fortnight feat. Post Malone

Best pop vocal album - TTPD

Best music video - Fortnight feat. Post Malone

Us - Gracie Abram’s feat. Taylor Swift

Taylor is seen out in NYC dining with Zoe Kravitz & friends at Chez Margaux.

November 10 - Chiefs v Broncos, Arrowhead Stadium, Kansas City, MO

Travis arrives ahead of game

Taylor arrives at Arrowhead with her parents.

Travis Kelce scored the first touchdown for The Chiefs.

The Kansas City Chiefs defeat the Broncos 16 -14 with an Adrenalin filled ending, the Chiefs blocked a game deciding field goal to remain undefeated this season 9 - 0

November 14 - The Eras Tour, Rogers Centre, Toronto, ON N1

My boy only breaks his favourite toys x This is why we can’t have nice things (guitar) & False God x tis the damn season (piano)

November 15 - The Eras Tour, Rogers Centre, Toronto, ON N2

I don’t wanna live forever x Mine (guitar) & evermore x Peter (piano) N2

Travis’ friends Ross Travis and Reggie King attend the Eras Tour and photographed with Austin Swift.

November 16 - Taylor posts her upcoming release:

*

Taylor Swift's 'THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT: THE ANTHOLOGY' will feature four bonus acoustic tracks:

Fortnight

Down Bad

But Daddy I Love Him

Guilty As Sin?

- The Eras Tour, Rogers Centre, Toronto, ON N3

Tammy Reid & Travis Hunt (wives of Chiefs Coach & Owner) attend The Eras Tour

Taylor mimics Travis’ dance move during Midnight Rain

Us x Out Of The Woods with guest Gracie Abrams (guitar) & You’re On Your Own Kid x Long Story Short (piano)

Travis Kelce arrives in Buffalo ahead of game.

*

November 17 - Chiefs v Bills

Buffalo Bills defeat Chiefs 30-21. This is the first loss of the season for the KC Chiefs. Taylor did not attend.

November 20 - Taylor at Jean-Georges private members’ club Chez Margaux with Faith Hill, Ashleigh Avignon & Este Haim

Taylor wins ARIA for most popular artist

November 21, 22, 23 - The Eras Tour, Rogers Centre, Toronto, ON

Sparks Fly x Message In A Bottle (guitar) & You’re Losing Me x How Did It End (piano)

Ed Kelce attends The Eras Tour - his first show.

Taylor gets emotional during the Champaign Problems speech

November 24 - Chiefs v Panthers

November 29 - Chiefs v Raiders, Arrowhead Stadium, Kansas City, MO

December 2024

December 6, 7, 8 - The Eras Tour , BC Place, Vancouver, British Columbia

December 8 - Chiefs v Chargers, Arrowhead Stadium, Kansas City, MO

December 13 - Taylor Swift's 35th birthday

December 15 - Chiefs v Browns

December 21 - Chiefs v Texans, Arrowhead Stadium, Kansas City, MO

December 25 - Christmas Day. Chiefs v Steelers

2025

Jan 4/5 - Chiefs v Broncos

February 2 - Grammy Awards

February 9 - Super Bowl LIX, Caesars Superdome, New Orleans.

Go to previous update - November 2024 part 1

Go to next update -> TBC

Return to the timeline

[imaginatorcreates]

Songs

15 July 2023 — 22 July 2023

Summary: In which Akemi fixes a mecha and talks to Jazz about things.

Word Count: ~3k words

Author's Notes: Featuring my OCs in a D&D-esque world! Also, not entirely edited because my brain is tired.

Playlist:

Tank! By The Seatbelts: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UFFa0QoHWvE 

Secret Code by BRADIO: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lRHDI140yjw 

Dream Sweet in Sea Major from Hawaii: Pt. 2: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uxyM7vhU0uU 

Doctor by Jack Stauber: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dYLOEY012do 

“In a few days, the water should be purified again, and communication should be open to the outside regions, those that lie beyond The Divine Archipelago. If you see our heroes around the college or out and about, please thank them!

“That’s all for now, listeners.”

Akemi shut the radio off with a soft click and let out a soft sigh. She smiled to herself as she placed her arms on the workbench table, then rested her hand on her arms. “It was a battle of epic proportions!” she said with tired enthusiasm.

She glanced at the mecha she impulsively took out into battle. It was pink, sleek, and horribly battered. It took some hits from the Nightmare Goddess, denting its main armor. However, the main reason why it looked worse for wear was all the negative life energy that Dendar — that was the name according to her friend’s long presentation of notes, right? The notes were heavily TL;DR-ed by the tiefling — attacked her mecha with.

She was thankfully alive due to the mecha taking the brunt of the goddess’s attack, but she still couldn’t have helped the spike of panic and adrenaline that had coursed through her veins as the lights from the control cockpit flickered and every warning sound and sign had popped into existence.

“It’s okay! You’re not dead. Again. Yet.” Akemi took a deep breath in and out. “You’re alive. That’s what matters.”

She picked up her head from her workbench and looked at her battered mecha. “Oh, I could try to fix you up tonight. Just a bit. Until Jazz arrives.” The pink tiefling got up and stretched. She fiddled with the radio, adjusting the antenna and the dials so she would be able to play some of her own music as she worked. She turned up the volume and heard the blaring saxophone belt out the opening notes. As the bass and the bongos kicked in, she held her wrench up to her mouth as she mouthed the only vocals in the song:

“I think it's time we blow this scene. Get everybody and the stuff together. Okay, three, two, one let's jam.”

As the song picked up, she grabbed some of her tools, hopped onto her levitating platform and went about to fix up her mecha. The physical damage wasn’t all that bad. She used a few of the provided stored spells in the platform to shape the dented metal parts back, and she was able to fix and replace some of the interior mechanisms that had been knocked out of place.

However, the most tedious part of her work was figuring out how to get rid of the magical damage done to her baby.

Physical damage was easier to spot and fix.

Magical damage, on the other hand, required careful attention and some precautionary devices in case the magic was volatile. Akemi had seen what happened when neither of the above was heeded, and to be honest? She didn’t want to have to deal with that tonight!

“So hard! Why do you have to be so difficult for me tonight, ne?” she playfully asked her mecha as she rapped her knuckles on the metal. She waited a few moments before she acted like she was thinking. “Oh, but I could always save the hard work for tomorrow, yeah? More beings to help me out, more supplies…yeeaah, procrastination it is!”

She pulled up the protection runes on the control panel of the levitating platform and slapped a few onto her mecha. Head, torso, back, and limbs. The runes thrummed to life and made a few automatic adjustments based on the bad magic that had infected her mecha. When their song faded into a small hum, Akemi leaned back on the railing of the platform that everyone said to never lean on (oh, but college students felt themselves to be indestructible!) and admired her work.

Her playlist suddenly changed songs midway through and she turned around to find one, very familiar, very well-loved, blue-skinned, pointy-eared being fiddling with the radio.

“Jazz!” Akemi exclaimed. “When did you walk in here?”

“A while ago,” they said as they put the radio back onto the workbench table. “Enough to see you in the middle of fixing your mecha.” Their voice was no longer the smoother, more masculine voice everyone in the school heard through the radio. It was back to their preferred feminine one. But to analyze the different spectrums of the voice that was Jazz could take a lifetime.

Honestly? Akemi would enjoy that lifetime if it meant that she could listen to their voice forever.

Jazz gave her a toothy grin and tapped their pointer finger on the table to the beat of the song. “I bet you know the lyrics to this better than I do.” That was the only indication of their planned actions before they started to sing along.

“Feeling it in order is useless”

Akemi quickly tapped on the control panel of the platform to make it travel to the ground so she could join in on the improvised singalong.

“Love is a secret code, in other words”

The band’s choice to add in some Common to the song always kept Akemi on her toes whenever she listened to the song the first few times. She bopped her head alongside the tune as the threw open the railing and hopped down.

“Just what is its key? What does it want?”

Akemi skipped over to Jazz’s side and gave them a grin. She didn’t dare say a word before the first verse was even over.

“While it is beautiful, I don't want to understand it”

Akemi soon joined in with vocalizations as the first verse faded out. She moved her feet to the beat and spun around a little. “Did ‘cha miss me?” she asked Jazz as the vocalizations ended and the song started its next verse.

“Always,” Jazz said with a soft sigh. “Always, every day.” Their orange eyes softened as they looked at her. “I thought about you while I was on air tonight.”

“Oh really?” Akemi sat on her workplace bench and patted the spot next to her. “Do you wanna tell me about it?”

Jazz sat down next to her. “Can I, um, hug you while I tell you?”

Akemi raised her arms above her head. “Go ahead.”

Jazz adjusted their sitting position so they were more angled towards the shorter of the pair and wrapped their arms around her waist. They placed their chin on her shoulder and let out a quiet sigh.

Their own horns lightly hit Akemi’s and she chuckled at the overall sensation. “You’re in a cuddly mood today,” she said as she reached up with one of her hands and patted Jazz’s cheek. “You okay?”

“Mmm,” Jazz hummed. “Just trying to understand why you of all the beings in this college would look at a fight with a goddess and think to yourself, ‘I should jump into battle!’” They squeezed her tightly and added disgruntledly, “You may be smart, but you’re not wise Emi!”

Akemi sighed and placed her other hand onto Jazz’s hands. “I’m alive aren’t I? It’s proof that my mecha is battle-worthy as it’s been tested in the field.”

“That’s not an excuse! You could’ve died there.” Jazz squeezed her again and whispered, “I wouldn’t know what to do if you didn’t come back alive.”

Akemi opened her mouth to speak but Jazz was faster. “And no! Just because you already experienced death before, and that it scared you from the life of an adventurer…it doesn't mean that you could just go out there and do it again!”

Akemi stayed silent for a little to allow Jazz to calm down and collect their thoughts. When she felt their hug loosen a bit, she spoke up. “Your feelings are valid, let me start with that.” She patted their cheek again as she continued. “And you’re right. I could’ve died out there. And there might’ve been no way to be revived a second time. But those outsiders? Those weirdos out there? They’re my friends too. I wanted to help them in any way I could.”

Jazz hugged her tightly again. “You could’ve remotely piloted a mecha.”

“This mecha was meant for in-person control.”

“You could’ve looked for a different mecha.”

“This was the first mecha I jumped into.”

“By the gods Akemi!” Jazz let go of the hug and placed their hands on Akemi’s shoulders as they turned to fully face her. “You’re so…! You don’t think sometimes.”

“I know.”

“You worry me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re such a handful with your brilliant mind and your seemingly lack of common sense.”

Akemi pressed her forehead against Jazz’s forehead. “And you’re a handful yourself. You’re running a part-time radio station, helping build the next form of communication, and you somehow still managed to have feelings for me.”

Jazz chuckled. “Just don’t do anything stupid like that again. If not for me, then for your family.”

“Ah ah ah! You’re still included in the last part!” Akemi moved her head away from Jazz’s to properly gauge their reaction.

It seemed as if they had a small blush on their face from something she had said earlier, but now that blush had intensified and spread to their ears. “What?”

“You’re family to me! In whatever sense that means,” Akemi smiled at them. “And no take-backs!”

Jazz let out what could be described as a 20/80 mix of a snort and a chuckle. “Okay, no take-backs from me.” They stood up from the bench and asked, “Should we be heading home now?”

Akemi clicked off the radio and looked around at her workshop. It was relatively tidy. No need to clean it up. “Sure. Just need to fix up the main workshop and I’ll be good to go.”

Akemi shut off the lights and locked up before walking with Jazz to the main workshop. As the pair navigated their way through the quiet halls of the college, a figure nearly ran by them.

The figure stopped to look at the horned pair. They had a patchy phono with a hood that rested atop their head. Their hands gripped onto the edge of the hood as if it were the only thing that prevented them from being seen.

On the contrary, it only drew more attention to them in this circumstance.

Akemi peaked around the hood and managed to catch a glimpse of the figure’s face. A vitiligo-like pattern was visible on their bare skin, and white hair framed a pair of golden eyes that looked between Akemi and Jazz with a hint of curiosity amongst the fear of being caught.

The pink tiefling gestured towards an open window near the roof of the hallway. “Kenari went home already.”

The figure looked in the direction of Akemi’s gesture and nodded. They signed a quick ‘thank you’ before they scrambled up and out the window.

Jazz gave Akemi a confused look. “Did you know them?”

“Not really. Ask Kenari about it tomorrow. She knows a lot more about her friend.”

------

The fresh air hit differently when the pair finally left the college building. It was still relatively bright outside and pleasantly warm for the evening. Akemi stretched as the two walked. “Ah! That’s nice.” She saw Jazz look at them out of the corner of her eye, and turned to face them. “What?”

“Nothing. I was just thinking.”

“About what? C’mon Jazzy, what’s in your brain now?”

Jazz sighed. “Just thinking of some lyrics to a song.”

“You’re in a cuddly and musical mood today! Wow! Two birds with one stone.” Akemi mimicked throwing something as she said this.

Jazz chuckled at her antics and started to softly sing.

“You look quite divine tonight

“Here among these vibrant lights

“Pure delights surround us as we sail

“Signed, yours truly, the whale”

Akemi once again found herself being swept up on the voice that was Jazz. She gently swayed as she walked alongside them, her eyes glued to them as they serenaded her with a song that she had listened to a few times, but never enough to truly remember how the rest of it went.

However, she knew how the next part went and took silent joy in seeing Jazz appear flustered over this as she sang.

“Joy mirage's kingdom come

“No one left at stake

“Now that existence is on the wake

“Let's see what we can make”

“Of course you would know more of the song,” Jazz groaned. “You alien.”

“Thank you, my radio star!” Akemi giggled and bowed towards them. “I should be happy you’re serenading me today. I love your voice when you do.”

“Well, I love you,” Jazz said back.

“I love you too!”

“No. Akemi.” Jazz took her hand and brought it up to their lips before planting a gentle kiss onto the back of it. “I love you.”

Akemi let out a garbled exhale of words at this action. “I love you too Jazz.” Her face felt warm, but she kept it under wraps as she simply looked at them. “I love you with reckless abandon.”

Another quick kiss. “Do you get what I’m saying? I feel like you’re not.”

“You’re saying that you love me.” Akemi shrugged. “What more is there to that?”

“Your hands are cold,” Jazz murmured. “And you’re being dense again.” They took her other hand and sandwiched it between their own. A second passed before they gripped one hand in their own in an attempt to warm it up. They brought the other hand up to their lips and peppered it in small kisses.

Akemi let a giggle bubble up and burst. “Jazzy! What are you doing?”

“Warming up your hands.”

“By holding one and kissing the other?”

“It’s silly and stupid, yes! But you’ve been stressed lately Emi.” Jazz switched hands and said “Plus, I want to spoil you a little” before covering her other hand with kisses.

Akemi’s face warmed at the kind gesture. Her green eyes softened and closed a little as she silently watched Jazz spoil her. Yes, she may not love Jazz in the way that her classmates always gossiped about, but she loved them. She loved them in such a way that she would love an idea that wouldn’t let her go: She thought about them in many ways, but it was always blurring the lines between what she might do with a friend and what she read about in the books between lovers.

She loved them.

Oh.

That’s what they meant!

Before she could share the revelation that she made, Jazz lowered her hand from their lips and held both of her hands in one of their own. With their free hand, they gently grabbed her chin and gave her a quick kiss on her nose.

Now her face felt like it was going into a full blush! “Oop!” she gasped. “I think I’m sick again!”

Jazz laughed. “I’m not a doctor, but I think I might be able to help,” they said in a singsong tone.

“Oh!” Akemi giggled. “So you know that song too!”

“Of course. You introduced it to me.”

“Oh right!”

Jazz chuckled and gave Akemi a tight hug. “Silly alien.”

“I love you too, my radio star.”

“Do you really?”

“Yes! You know why?”

A hum. “Maybe I do, but tell me.”

“Because you’re Jazz.”

“How specific of you.”

“Oh! So you want specifics?” Akemi looked at them with a smirk. “I’ll give you specifics!” She gently placed her hands on their cheeks and looked them in the eyes as she whispered, “In another world, I swear I'll always seek you out. I’d find you and pick you out of a crowd. Every. Single. Time. Whether that be acting stupid in a market or laying on the ground with you, I'll find you and I’ll find a way to love you.”

The two stood in silence for what felt like a long time. Akemi could feel that Jazz’s face had gotten warmer, and she had no doubt that her own face had warmed as well.

“By the gods…” Jaz breathed. “I can’t top that.”

“You could always try.”

Jazz stood there for a few moments before they simply pressed their forehead to Akemi’s. “Not right now.”

“You sure?”

“Well…” Jazz broke the forehead touch before they tilted their head a little and looked at her for permission.

Akemi chuckled. “Oh, you. Just one.”

“Just one,” they repeated. “Just one for this evening in this world.”

The two met in the middle. Gone were the sudden lunges and bleeding lips; those were in the past. Now, it was just quick and sweet, punctuated with giggles and thumbs gently rubbing each others’ cheeks.

“You enjoy those a little much, don’t you?”

“Well,” Jazz slowly moved away and shrugged. “I sometimes think to myself, in another world, I could be in love with you, in that typical way. Or maybe I am, and I’m deep in denial. But, I’m happy here, with what we have,” they concluded. “And if that's okay with you, then that’s all I really need.”

Akemi only pressed their foreheads together for a quick nuzzle as she answered with, “Then so be it.” She pulled away again and grabbed Jazz’s hand. “Okay! Dinner! Let’s grab some before all the good places sell out!” She pointed forwards as if on an important quest. “Onwards!”

The two walked off, hands swinging in the air in large arches when they felt silly enough. It was silly, stupid, but most of all, it was absolutely uniquely lovely.

[launching-a-thousand-ships]

Kurt Glee Rewatch: Theatricality

We deserved more Kurt singing in Gaga songs, just saying.

So, obvs I love Carol but I do find this scene kinda weird? She knows how difficult it was for Finn when she first started dating Burt so why didn’t she have a private convo with him first? Could’ve given him time to process. But then, that’s not entertaining TV.

Also, v small note, but when Kurt mentions the tuna crudite, Burt corrects himself to use the correct term. V subtle change from before, when he wouldn’t really bother (the Maria bonnet before lol). Just thought I’d point it out. He’s already trying...

And why does a house with 2 (and a half) bathrooms not have another room? There are more bathrooms than bedrooms lol.

Def feel bad for Finn here, prob could’ve handled it better. Also, don’t see Kurt as really crushing on Finn at this point? More just excited, trying to make things work. Also def blinded by the thought of getting to redecorate lol.

Theatricality and Funk were switched when aired so timeline is of Vocal Adrenaline is weird but... oh well.

How dare VA do Gaga when that is his identity (and yet he only got to do 2 Gaga songs, blasphemy)

This always makes me think of the story of Chris Colfer meeting Lady Gaga and saying ‘Nobody’s talented but you’ lol

Love Kurt’s reaction to the assignment. Hasn’t been this hype since Madonna.

Kinda side-tangent but oof, Finn, casual homophobia is showing.

First off, he says they’re always doing what the girls want to do?? No?? They do what Will wants. Maybe he means Madonna but a) that was Will inspired by Sue and b) that was bc the guys were being sexist asses.

I do like the idea of bringing in different types of theatricality but would be interesting to have the whole club do both kinds, maybe do Gaga one week, Kiss the next. And oof, the way Finn says ‘except for Kurt’ here bc of all the annoyance he has at the situation... yikes. Trouble ahead.

aw, Kurt and Tina allowed to be friends. Enjoy it while you can, not much time left.

Not gonna lie... not a huge fan of Kurt’s outfit? Maybe it’s the wig giving rococo vibes? Idk, fits with his usual fashion of being hella covered up, but eh. Heels are iconic tho

And damn, the way he talks back to the jocks. And how he tries to sorta backtrack, to just defending Tina. Prob less confident when it comes to just defending himself.

It was made as a big deal in s2, like Kurt wouldn’t have stood up for himself witout Blaine’s courage text but Kurt’s been calling them out all along?? Or maybe by s2 he was more beaten down and unwilling to do anything.

Also, kudos to Azimio for knowing what crepe paper is.

I cannot even with this number. I mean, we get Kurt, Santana, Mercedes, Tina(!) singing lead and freaking rocking it! Wish they got to sing together more often.

And the dance and Kurt getting to use his lower register and just. Lowkey better than numerous competition performances. I love this so much.

Wtf is this reaction to one of the best songs they’ve ever done? Esp you Matt, We know nothing about you but I expected better. Ugh, finn and puck complained about not wanting to perform gaga, fine, but you can’t even support your friends and appreciate a freaking amazing number???

And ofc when the boys perform these guys are all hella into it. Bc they support their friends and are able to appreciate a good performance. Oof.

Jeez, Tina and Kurt are going through it this ep. Why is no one else getting grief? Is it bc the other girls are cheerios? What about Rachel and Mercedes? The lack of adult supervision in this school is astounding.

This look of pure derision Kurt throws Finn... why I think the crush is practically gone at this point oof.

Kurt has spent so damn long working to accept himself, to build up some confidence to be who he is. And esp now that he has acceptance from his dad, the only opnion he cares about, ofc Kurt has no desire to ‘blend in’. 

“It’s just a moist towelette!”

I mean, I was also struggling with Finn trying to wipe off make-up with a dry paper towel like dude. And Kurt prob wants to just comfortably hang out with another guy, but Finn freaks the fuck out. Back in Ballad they hung out pretty closely and Finn never said anything and legit hasn’t called Kurt out on any of it yet. Kurt had been very intense before, but here Kurt is being casual about things.

Kurt kicking the chair slays me. He learned it from Finn. 

Omg this room. Like, lowkey, I’d love to have a room like that, but also.

We saw Kurt in his Mellencamp phase. We know he knows how to ‘butch’ things up if he needs to. Also, this is nothing like any of his past aesthetics and nothing we ever see again?? His style is very modern, usually more sleek and monochrome. I feel like this room was made way more extra to incite the argument cuz like. Wow. I do appreciate the privacy partition, Kurt trying so hard.

Omg this scene. How Kurt was really sincere in trying to make something finn would like. And then the turn around to sadness, embarrassment, regret. Legit a million emotions on his face.

The way Finn is shocked when Kurt starts shouting. Lowkey we don’t see Kurt shout often, normally he goes for cutting remarks etc. Kurt is def in defensive mode.

And when Finn starts using the f-slur like damn. And how Kurt barely reacts to it bc he’s used to the word being used against him (tho never before by Finn) and he prob still feels guilt about the crush and about the room oof.

Then Burt Hummel. Omg. I love how he calls Finn out like ‘you weren’t talking about the blanket, you meant it towards Kurt’ bc yes.

And Kurt jumps to Finn’s defense bc he’s used to being bullied. He’s upset it’s from Finn, but it’s not super out of the ordinary

And Burt calls Finn out like, you won’t use the n-word, the r-word, but you’re totally fine using that slur? 

And how Burt brings it back bc he was the same when he was a kid. Kurt being gay prob had Burt thinking back on all the crap he’d say with his friends and he has lots of guilt over it.

And how Burt says he thought Finn was this ‘new generation of man’ and honestly, that makes me so upset that we barely see anymore Kurt and Finn friendship after this until like. Furt. And after that, even less. And they lowkey don’t give Kurt any male friends (until Elliot, which is nice but ofc he’s also gay).

After all this, and the stupid ‘predatory gay’ trope they gave Kurt earlier, it would be cool to see Kurt getting to be friends with straight guys without it being a big deal ugh. I’ll rant more in Duets tho.

I do think the last scene was when Kurt’s crush officially died. Finn was no different than every other bully he’d dealt with. At least he’s eventually able to forgive him and accept him as a brother tho.

“My balls keep falling off” “I’ve been there” this line kills me.

Kurt’s reaction to every bully: “go ahead, hit me” like boi

Also, I love the quiet ‘oh my god...’ when he sees Finn bc. Ya. Same. Love the speech, and kinda love that even tho Finn is giving this intense speech, he doesn’t clarify ‘my brother’ or ‘my friend’ bc he doesn’t care what the others think. This is just about making it right with Kurt.

And Will appears after this and... no check in with Kurt. Doesn’t go after Karofsky and Azimio bc they were about to beat a kid up. Like... dude. 

This is why I rewatch omg. Kurt pets Finn’s shoulder, and when Finn does it back Kurt immediately waves him off like ‘don’t touch the costume’. Lol.

Also, how tf did Finn make this costume.

[eurydicees]

i have very surface level knowledge of glee but i am v interested in a haikyuu glee au 👀 what are you thinking for it?

oh man. oh man. i have no idea. i have no thoughts. i'm just. like. watching glee and thinking about how it's the perfect teenage soap opera setting for a haikyuu ship-centric au. i need someone else to write it for me because i don't know what to say. i just. have a Need.

i'm wondering if it's better to map character to character / plot to plot or just use the setting, like just do a show choir au. shiratorizawa as vocal adrenaline. ushijima singing bohemian rhapsody. karasuno fits mckinley high SO well. and oh,,,,,,,, ukai as will. "we won because we had you as a teacher" i'm gonna scream

[jamieroxxartist]

Audio: https://rss.com/podcasts/poproxxradio/1763582 Video: www.youtube.com/watch?v=fNmn5BtL6qg

Pop Art Painter #JamieRoxx ( www.JamieRoxx.us ) welcomes Becoming Wolves (#Rock, #Metal) to the Show! www.PopRoxxRadio.com Ep# 1428

● FB: @BecomingWolves ● TK: @BecomingWolves ● YT: @BecomingWolves ● Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/artist/7vNCugOn3hDRNrvsQdazDB?si=-i0yc4wDSSWBdkG9KC95GQ

Hailing proudly from the New York Metro area, Becoming Wolves is a powerhouse formed by four seasoned veterans of the national music scene, united with a single mission: to “become wolves.”

With massive choruses, catchy hooks, and top-tier songwriting, Becoming Wolves delivers a hard-hitting modern sound reminiscent of Texas Hippie Coalition and Black Stone Cherry. Their music carries a distinct edge—something that needs to be heard to be fully appreciated. Whether they’re rocking a local venue or tearing up the road, this band promises to deliver an unforgettable experience every time they step on stage, refusing to bow to anyone.

Their latest release, IGNITE THE FIRE was produced by Mike Orlando of Adrenaline Mob and features contributions from Corey Glover, Noternal, and Category 7.

Band Members: Ace Vincent – Vocals Mike Butchar - Guitar Eddy B– Bass Gonzalo Martinez – Drums (formerly of Marcy Playground)

● Media Inquiries: Brian Mohr EVP of A&R EVP of Artist Management Curtain Call Records www.curtaincallrecords.com

www.youtube.com/watch?v=fNmn5BtL6qg

[starfriday]

Jai Bajrangbali – The First Song from Rohit Shetty’s Cop Universe Singham Again is Out Now!*

The first song from the highly anticipated Rohit Shetty’s Cop Universe film, Singham Again, titled Jai Bajrangbali, has been released! This powerful track, inspired by the Hanuman Chalisa, is perfect soundtrack for the festive season.

The anticipation for Singham Again has been massive. The trailer received a thunderous response from audiences, garnering 138 million views in just 24 hours. Now, the song is set to make waves with its spiritual essence and high-energy sound.

Jai Bajrangbali features vocals by multiple talented singers including, – Srikrishna, Kareemullah, Arun Koundinya, Chaitu Satsangi, Sri Sai Charan, Sudhanshu, Ritesh G Rao, Saatvik G Rao, Prudhvi Chandra, Lakshmi Naidu, Adviteeya, Sruthi Ranjani, Pranati, Aishwarya Daruri, Sahithi Chaganti, Maneesha Pandranki, Shruthika, Lakshmi Meghana, Nadapriya, and Vagdevi. With an energetic composition by Thaman S and powerful lyrics by the acclaimed lyricist Swanand Kirkire, the song combines devotional intensity with an adrenaline-pumping vibe, perfectly setting the tone for the film’s high-octane action scenes.Watch the song now on Saregama Music’s YouTube channel.

Singham Again is set to hit theatres on 1st November 2024.

[hannahlue]

Smooth like butter man!

"Y/N stood confidently on the stage, her voice filling the air as she sang the hit song 'Butter'. The spotlight followed her every move, highlighting her impressive dance skills and captivating stage presence.

As the music reached its peak, Y/N decided to take her performance to the next level. With determination in her eyes, she executed one of the hardest flexible moves possible - a flawless backbend. Her red hair, pulled back into a French braid, cascaded down her back, adding to the dramatic effect.

Jungkook, who had been watching her performance with awe from the sidelines, couldn't help but feel a strong attraction towards her. The way she effortlessly combined her powerful vocals with mesmerizing dance moves made his heart race. He yearned to capture her attention, to taste her lips, but he knew he had to remain focused on his own performance.

Meanwhile, RM, Tae, Jin, Suga, and Jimin continued to deliver their breathtaking verses, their energy and charisma electrifying the crowd. V, with his enigmatic presence, added an air of mystery to the performance, leaving the audience wanting more.

As Y/N finished her jaw-dropping routine, the cheers echoed throughout the venue. She took a moment to catch her breath, a hint of sweat glistening on her forehead. Her gray eyes sparkled with adrenaline, matching the intensity of her performance.

Dressed in a pair of leggings and black boots, Y/N wore a white and purple hoodie that hugged her figure perfectly. The combination of her bold makeup - blue eyeshadow, winged eyeliner, and nude lips - enhanced her natural beauty, captivating the audience's attention.

The distinct scent of mochi wafted around Y/N, leaving a sweet and delightful aroma in its wake. It was as if her presence alone could transport people to a world where dreams came true.

As the song came to an end, Y/N took a bow, basking in the ovation she received from the crowd. The members of BTS joined her on stage, congratulating her on the mesmerizing performance. They were in awe of her talent and they couldn't wait to see what she would achieve next.

Little did they know, this performance was just the beginning of an unforgettable journey. In the world of music, magic, and destiny, Y/N's presence had ignited a spark that would forever change their lives."

I hope you enjoy this fanfiction! Let me know if you'd like to see any changes or if there's anything else I can help you with.

[stuntchicken]

Stunt Chicken's Karaoke Spectacular: The Ultimate Showdown!

Stunt Chicken's Karaoke Spectacular: The Ultimate Showdown! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4U57M_wXPz4 Get ready for the most electrifying karaoke showdown you have ever witnessed - "Stunt Chicken's Karaoke Spectacular: The Ultimate Showdown!" Join us as the extraordinary Stunt Chicken takes the stage with an incredible display of talent and entertainment. This adrenaline-packed event promises mind-blowing performances, hilarious moments, and jaw-dropping stunts that will leave you on the edge of your seat. More Karaoke 🐰🕳📺 Stunt Chicken Johnny Cash Jail house https://youtu.be/VFBG-zPdFzw Prepare to be mesmerized by Stunt Chicken's unrivaled vocal abilities and fearless stage presence. From powerhouse ballads to catchy pop hits, this feathery superstar will captivate your heart and electrify the room with sheer star power. Every note sung is delivered flawlessly, showcasing Stunt Chicken's impressive range and dedication to the art of karaoke. But that's not all! Stunt Chicken's show is not just about the music. Brace yourself for mind-boggling daredevil acts that will leave you breathless. Witness Stunt Chicken defy gravity, conquer impossible obstacles, and astound the crowd with outrageous antics that guarantee an unforgettable experience. Join us for "Stunt Chicken's Karaoke Spectacular: The Ultimate Showdown!" This mesmerizing event is perfect for adrenaline junkies, music lovers, and thrill-seekers alike. Whether you're a fan of epic vocals, thrilling stunts, or simply looking for a night of unforgettable entertainment, this show is tailor-made for you. Don't miss the opportunity to witness the one and only Stunt Chicken in action. Get your tickets now and secure your spot at this electrifying karaoke showdown. Be part of the audience as Stunt Chicken ignites the stage with energy, talent, and all-around awesomeness. This is one event you won't want to miss! ✅ About StuntChicken?: Laugh it off with Mila, a delightful actress turning everyday quirks into hilarious sketches. Our channel features rib-tickling comedy skits, sharp-witted stand-ups, and unexpected parodies. Join us for your daily dose of humor. 🔔 Subscribe to my channel for more videos: StuntChicken.net #StuntChicken #KaraokeSpectacular #UltimateShowdown #Entertainment #Music #PerformingArts #FunnyVideos #Comedy #ChickenLife #ViralVideo #TalentShow #AmazingPerformances #Hilarious #MustWatch #CrazyChicken #Epic #Entertaining #SingingContest #FunnyAnimals #SpectacularPerformance CODE: S&1C$ via StuntChicken? https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCw_qXPC5lE0dsdBUMtY-kRQ August 31, 2023 at 11:37AM

[love-seared]

five songs that remind you of your muse.

tagged: @strongfuck

tagging: @therelignedstars @threadsandwings (for either borderlands v or trigun!) @ninevoltcolt

Plastic Hearts - Miley Cyrus

I've been California dreamin' Plastic hearts are bleedin' Keep me up all night (keep me up) Keep me up all night (all night) Lost in black hole conversation Sunrise suffocation Keep me up all night (keep me up) Keep me up all night I just wanna feel (feel) I just wanna feel somethin' (feel somethin' now) But I keep feeling nothin' all night long

This is such a good description for how Arryn feels working for Hyperion, any and all verses. It’s stifling, the attitudes are so detestable. But she is looking for entertainment from her usual drag of a day. This song conjures the image of Arryn begging for a potential lover to continue doing activities in a ploy to not let it end. Be it a good date, or just feeling a good connection, it makes her dread going to bed, hoping this wasn’t all going to disappear tomorrow. To live in that joy longer. She fears that she can’t have a meaningful connection that will last. 

It’s My House - Diana Ross

There's a welcome mat at the door And if you come on in You're gonna get much more I put my name in the ceilin' above 'cause it was built for love It was built for love

The house and home is something that is really important to Arryn, her goal being to create her own home, some place safe where people want to visit, a place to share. It could be a shack in the middle of no where, so long as it was safe and quiet, she is happy. The house reflects yourself, your state and how you live your day. She so badly wants to be comfortable and craves that feeling. 

Your Cat - Slaughter Beach, Dog 

But all of the kids I met on campus Are settled down beside the sea Some days I wish that I could be that Sometimes I forget to spit out the seeds I'll make it through this if it kills me And when it kills me I'll come back Jesus will make me a disciple Or maybe he'll let me be your cat

That craving for belonging that will never be satiated by the simple fact that no matter how old you get it’s not in the stars. As Arryn gets older she feels this dissonance. Can’t help but compare your life to others who seem more successful and peaceful. Especially when she becomes a guard and working on Pandora, this feeling that anything to be important, to be close to someone she cares for, even to be as lowly, she would take. This also touches on a common theme of living through something that feels close to death out of spite. 

Feel Better - Penelope Scott 

'Cause someone loved me, someone fuckin' loved me All my filthy life I loved someone I barely knew Goddamn it, I was worth something, I fuckin' learned something And it felt better in my mouth than fresh warm food

The theme of hunger for Arryn really stemmed from this song. The idea of that someones love being food, in a literal sense and metaphorical of which you eat when hungry until none remains. She is starved and she vocalizes this in the lowliest places in her life. As a guard she isn’t provided any resources on Pandora, she is wasting away on a wild goose chase in the name of Jack. But is also willing to give when she has none, she will fail her mission and give what she has for someone to prosper. 

You Told the Drunks I Knew Karate - Zoey Van Goey 

And we just missed the last bus home So we walked it, fueled by adrenaline And when I said that I could do it all again That was a lie, that was a lie, that was a lie Your plans to make it big and conquer Would put Napoleon to shame I'm in a coma on the sofa Until the sun goes down again

This song is from my original playlist for Arryn, like from day one. She was always supposed to be an annoying friend that would get up to no good, dragging her friends into her bullshit. Of course she started as just a psycho who lived in the badlands with a group, but after revamping her over the years that changed. This still applies to her and her recklessness for a fun time. 

[maddypcrez-archive]

@unitedleader​ Continued from x 

Being around Finn was fine and she knew they needed to get into situations where she wasn’t always comfortable. With his arms around her she should have been fine, it was just the other people at the party that she had an issue with. Seeing Finn’s exes she still wondered how he could be friends with someone he might have been in love with. Quinn’s blonde ringlets reminded her of girls she had once competed with, and from what she had heard Quinn was crown hungry just as well. 

Drinking the soda she had been nursing she shook her head. “No, I need to get used to being around your... friends.” She glanced over at his other ex as she took his cheek into her hand. “I know your brother’s here so it’s fine.” At least she was okay with being around Kurt, Finn’s new brother someone who she talked fashion with. “It’s just kinda hard knowing you dated her before and are still friends with her.” Her jealousy showing she felt guilty, almost as if she was emotionally manipulating him. “I’m sorry.” Her apology genuine as she smiled a bit more. She rested her hand on his cheek. “I don’t want us to leave.” Maddy gave him a quick kiss. “And I don’t even really care if you have to drive everyone home.” 

[loserlikewe]

“i walked into school today expecting to smell nicotine and spy a blur of a red haired girl with a tattoo sleeve, then realized santana’s now at carmel.” clad in her usual cheerios uniform, she approaches rachel at her locker, trying to keep her heart rate under control as her thoughts immediately flash back to their friend date just a week ago. “i think the rest of our last semester in this school is going to be quite an interesting one.” there are two disposable coffee cups in her hand, her name written on both of them. she holds one of them out to rachel, recalling her coffee order during their breakfast date. “the lima bean’s nothing like sure house, but i made sure to make it taste as close as possible.” @ofberry​

[jamieroxxartist]

Pop Art Painter #JamieRoxx ( www.JamieRoxx.us ) welcomes Becoming Wolves (#Rock, #Metal) to the Show!

Audio: https://rss.com/podcasts/poproxxradio/1763582 Video: www.youtube.com/watch?v=fNmn5BtL6qg

● FB: @BecomingWolves ● TK: @BecomingWolves ● YT: @BecomingWolves ● Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/artist/7vNCugOn3hDRNrvsQdazDB?si=-i0yc4wDSSWBdkG9KC95GQ

Hailing proudly from the New York Metro area, Becoming Wolves is a powerhouse formed by four seasoned veterans of the national music scene, united with a single mission: to “become wolves.”

With massive choruses, catchy hooks, and top-tier songwriting, Becoming Wolves delivers a hard-hitting modern sound reminiscent of Texas Hippie Coalition and Black Stone Cherry. Their music carries a distinct edge—something that needs to be heard to be fully appreciated. Whether they’re rocking a local venue or tearing up the road, this band promises to deliver an unforgettable experience every time they step on stage, refusing to bow to anyone.

Their latest release, IGNITE THE FIRE was produced by Mike Orlando of Adrenaline Mob and features contributions from Corey Glover, Noternal, and Category 7.

Band Members: Ace Vincent – Vocals Mike Butchar - Guitar Eddy B– Bass Gonzalo Martinez – Drums (formerly of Marcy Playground)

● Media Inquiries: Brian Mohr EVP of A&R EVP of Artist Management Curtain Call Records www.curtaincallrecords.com