#yeah you basically know the song and dance at this rate

[indomitableblackdragon]

"And the worst part about all of it was we couldn't even find a good drink! Her and I spent the entire day mixing things and hoping anything would come from it. But alas the culinary deities seemed to frown upon us."

For someone that seemed to not want any attention at all NJ managed to "squeeze" herself into a crack in their "wall" and start up a conversation with the individual waiting for a drink in line. Getting something from an actual cafe rather then doing any of the BB's usual antics at home was a much needed change of pace. Gone were the days of extreme smoothie making in the summer and in were the warm more bittery ones she hated.

Still it was better then nothing and at least a hot chocolate could warm her heart up till the summer rolled around again.

"You really had to be there. That kitchen was never the same ever again." The smile on her face said it all, almost proud of everything she did up to that point. "What did you even order from here? Are you one of those "black coffee nothing else" kinda guys?"

@omnireading | s.c

[cloveroctobers]

my man rates my outfits — MULTI [Fall Randoms] 🤎

A/N: just something random I decided to write for fun on my lunch break + slightly influenced by YouTuber: Isimeme Edeko’s recent video she did with her husband lol. I hope you enjoy this mess!

Synopsis: you’re a content creator who has a theme for every occasion and decide to get your man’s reactions on certain fits — OR — your man catches you rocking particular outfits.

WARNINGS: language, suggestive themes, flirting, + x fem reader!

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ──

[ROMAN] —

You were throwing ass to Ms. Ponytail who appeared on your playlist funny enough as you stood in one of your many outfits in your kitchen. Of course you got side tracked, filming a OOTN (outfit of the night), after your stomach basically told you to feed them before you ended up kissing the floor from lack of nutrients.

“Now what is going on in here?” A voice boomed as the song finished.

Whipping around like a deer in headlights with a truffle chip against your lips, you spotted your husband standing on the other side of the kitchen island, leaning on his elbows as he watched you in delight.

You warn after bringing the chip into your mouth, “You need to stop sneaking up on me, if you know what’s good for you.”

“You are…I was just enjoying the show. Especially that last bit.” Joe flashed his pretty teeth at you.

Playfully rolling your eyes, you finished chewing, “You could have seen it up close and personal if you did the trend with me but you preferred the gym.”

Joe would do very little trends with you, he enjoyed the ones more where you danced and he got to watch from behind…also he liked the ones where he got to show off his strength.

“I mean…with all that movement back there I wouldn’t mind another rep.” The bun wearing man licks his lips, pushing back from his elbows, “And that dress mmm…”

You’re wearing a skinny strapped two printed mini dress that definitely showcased your cleavage and clung to your waist nicely as you explain, “i was filming date night outfits.”

Joe hums again, caressing his facial hair as he starts making way around the counter, which made you step to the other side, earning you a taunting grin, “We can consider what we’re about to do a date night if you want?”

Clapping your hands together, you wagged a finger at your husband who immediately made you his prey, “No, Joe! I have to pick the kids up at four.”

He checked the watch on his wrist, while you tried to tip toe backwards, “Uh, uh, where you going?”

“I got to get back to work.” You tried to convince.

Joe chuckled to himself, “I know we both got something that the both of us can work out…and our main problem is still having seats open at the table so why not fill them up?”

He then charged at you with laughter that boomed from his chest, tossing you right over his shoulder. Honestly you thought five kids was enough but if you asked Joe, he didn’t feel like there needed to be any limits.

“Joe!” You squealed after he slapped a hand to your backside and gave it a nice wiggle after it bounced back against his hand, “We don’t have time—

“We’ll make time. I need to see more of them outfits after I’m done with you…but this one might be my favorite.” He admits as he easily walks with you around the house in search of the bedroom.

Sighing you claw at your husband’s back as he felt you trying to slide out of his hold, “Don’t you tear this shit, Joe. I mean it. The other one you messed up is still on back order.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll be alright.” He says, kicking the bedroom door closed before sliding you face to face in his arms, still holding onto you, leaving you to initiate the kiss after staring into his loving eyes.

It was safe to say, this date night outfit got a dick stamp of approval.

[JEY] —

the theme was: thanksgiving, you were already stressing out about some fits to wear a week before the big festivities, whereas Jey was more relaxed about it all. Don’t get it wrong, he likes to show out but he didn’t see the need in stressing over things weeks before they transpired. He would pick what he was wearing the week of or a few days prior.

However he didn’t mind helping you pick out what to wear either. Just based off the first outfit, you showed off as you approached from around the couch, there was amusement in Jey’s dark eyes.

He sings, “Okay, purple rain! Purple rain!”

Immediately your smile dropped as Jey continued grinning at you.

“What?”

Jey licked his lips, pressing his elbows into his knees as he surveryed you in some Metallic purple boots and a lilac blazer dress. It didn’t look bad…he just didn’t think it gave what it was supposed to give.

“Why you wearing purple? Aren’t you supposed to go for darker tones? Mustard yellows, chocolate browns, tans? I heard the color for this season is wine or something along those lines.” Jey explains, as he trails his eyes up the length of your legs.

Your arms are folded now, “That’s boring!” You start, while Jey raises his brows to peek at the wine tortoise colored set on your nails, which you folded behind your back, “I wanted to switch it up with the dark tones and do something fresh.”

Jey slowly nods his head, while he caressed his beard, “I get that ma but you did say the theme was thanksgiving and this got prince written all over it.”

He’s laughing again and it’s working your nerves.

“…It sure does smell like hater in here.” You sass, making Jey scoff.

“What’s with the attitude? You asked me to give you my opinion and this is just the first fit right? Let me see the other ones…as long as they ain’t all purple.” Jey mutters that last bit but you caught it.

Scowling you say, “No, I don’t think i will! You’re not going to get the privilege to see the other options since you just tried to drag me. I didn’t know we had Tyra Uso in the building.”

Jey snickers, not believing that you were this pressed over him not feeling the first outfit for the theme. He never said it was ugly or anything like that, the colors were off if you compared the blazer and the shoes but it still somehow worked. He just didn’t see it for thanksgiving but you were not trying to hear it.

Maybe he should have cut back on the laughing but he stood by his Prince comment. You chuck the gingerbread cookie pillow right at his face on your way out of the living room.

“Aye! There ain’t no need to get disrespectful, alright?” Jey was on his feet now, reaching over the couch in attempt to latch onto your wrist but you side stepped him.

He wasn’t the only athlete in this house!

“Y/N, you can’t be seriously pissed at a jokey joke?!” Jey held onto the edge of the couch as he watched you retreat around the corner to head back to your office/second closet.

Just as he heard the door creaking you yelled, “I’m going to get the opinion of a true fashion head instead because my husband is the worst!”

And with a slam of the door, Jey just shook his head to himself at how sensitive you wanted to be today, letting out a small laugh to himself, followed by a sigh, he plopped down on the couch just to be notified that you were on tiktok live, talking to your supporters instead.

Of course Jey tuned right in.

[TERRY] —

“Ol’ heffa!” You hiss, tossing more clothes behind you.

Terry dodges a heel that could have caught him right in the face but ends up catching a balled up jumpsuit? That was closer to hitting his face.

“Babe, what’s going on?”

You spin to the voice, hands on your hips, and half dressed.

“That heffa.” You balled up a fist, while Terry got closer to you, eyes wide as he glanced at the mountain of clothes that decorated the floor.

“I see you’ve been spending too much time at the salon with the aunties.” Terry attempted to joke, while you appeared as if you just wanted to swing on something or someone, “Alright…take a deep breath for me.”

Peering up into his spring green hues while he rubbed at your bare shoulders, you followed his coaching of breathing before letting out a groan.

“I told you I didn’t like our neighbor to the left but she personally handed me this grand invitation to her Christmas gala, like she does every year.” You begin to tell your fiancé.

Terry slowly nods, not understand what the issue is but keeps quiet, knowing you’ll tell him.

“She threw a jab at us, Terry!” You exasperate, “‘It’ll be nothing like your Christmas party last year, no itchy ugly sweaters and full glam for the greater good. You know what that’s like right?’ She had the nerve to say that to me?! She basically called us tacky like I won’t MINK her brain into a slushie! She don’t know who she’s messing with, T. My mom told me to cast the demon out and my auntie told me to ring around the Rosie that hoe but I heard your voice in my head instead.”

Terry felt a smile tickling its way onto his full lips, “Oh yeah?”

“Told her we’re not attending this year, we will donate to the foundation because that’s what it’s truly about, to help support HIV and aids, not acting like it’s a fashion show.” You respond making Terry nod his head at you taking the high road, “Then I took her invitation, put it in a blender, dumped it into a mason jar, with a red ribbon and put into her mailbox for her barely twenty-one year old boyfriend of the month to bring in for her.”

Terry dropped his head followed by the closing of his eyes, “You didn’t.”

“I told you I didn’t want to move to the suburbs but she keeps messing with me and I refuse to be shaded or bullied. I get along with pretty much everyone, except for her minions and that—

“Heffa?” Terry finished for you, which you pointed into the air with a dip of your head.

You knew your man would just get it.

“They’re just trying to get up underneath your skin since we’re the newbies in town. Don’t let them win.”

Tilting your head to the side you say, “Did you not block our neighbor across the street in with the truck because he kept blowing his leaves across the street into our yard? Even stood in front of his car after he tried to drive over his lawn to get away from you?”

“I don’t recall that.” Terry grinned at you while you stared at him in disbelief, “You just gotta teach people how to treat you.”

“Exactly! And if she keeps it up, I’ll cancel Christmas real quick for her.”

Terry laughs, pulling you into his chest to sooth you, “Relax, Tasmanian Devil. I got something that might uplift your spirts though.”

Gift giving was something Terry often did. It was always, “I saw this and thought of you,” and it could be little trinkets or snacks or anything that you enjoyed. He never missed with whatever he brought home.

It’s his black tux that he planned to wear to a friend’s wedding that was happening the day before Christmas Eve. He pulled it up from the bed and you couldn’t wipe the grin off your face now.

“I’ve been in here nearly all day trying on dresses for Crystal and Sherrod’s wedding and you’ve been holding out on this info?!” You touch the protective bag that contains the suit, “Try it on while I get the wine and the ones.”

Terry chuckles as you start to scurry out of the room, “And for my services of modeling this for you, can I help pick your fit since you seem to be having a hard time?…which shouldn’t be with all these damn clothes you got.”

“Be quiet, Terry. You better be lucky I’m not a bridesmaid, or else you and your little friend to the left might see hell.”

Terry gives you a side eye, “She ain’t a friend of yours so she ain’t a friend of mine.”

“And that’s one of the many reasons why I’m marrying you,” you sigh dramatically while Terry just shakes his head at you, shooing you out of the room, to start unzipping the suit.

When you return with two glasses and a bottle, you make yourself comfortable, glimmering legs crossed over the other while you cheered Terry on in his all black attire.

He sips at the red, carefully putting the glass back down on the nightstand and decides to change back out of his clothes, not wanting to mess anything up, although you both had weeks to go before your friends’ wedding, he still wanted to take precautions, not wanting to cause any more stress to you as well.

“What about this?” Terry questions, pulling up a black lace piece, “We’ll be coordinating.”

You were leaning on one of your elbows and laugh, “I could do a red lip but…If I wear that dress, we probably wouldn’t be attending the wedding.”

It still had a tag on it too.

“Just adds more excitement to spreading love that day and later…” he winks at you, while you feel your body getting hot, even half dressed.

Terry holds it up by the straps with both pointer fingers, “…Get up, it’s your turn to show me why you’re a million out of ten.”

You smirk as you sit up, “You sure know how to make a girl feel special.”

“Don’t I know it,” His eyes followed your movements with ease, as you plucked the dress from his hands, leaning up to let your nose brush against his, and just when Terry was ready to put his hands on your hips, you quickly slipped out of reach and circled around him.

It was his turn to lounge on the ottoman in front of the bed, enjoying his view as you got dressed up for him.

[CANE] —

“The fuck you got on?!”

“Now Lorenzo.”

“Don’t do that.”

“I know you better correct that bass in your tone.”

“And what’s gon’ happen if I don’t?” Cane quizzes, pushing off his knees on the edge of the bed to fold his hands underneath his armpits.

You side eyed him and he had no problem matching your energy.

After a tense silence you sigh, “Stop being extra and rate my fit!”

Cane scratched at his brow as he mumbles, “Was that not what I was just doing?”

You huff, “Your delivery is whack.”

“No, that outfit is.”

Your mouth drops open, as you looked over your shoulder at the mirror behind you before turning fully to look at what you put together. You sported a suede brown frayed jacket, a blue and white pin stripped blouse underneath that was left unbuttoned enough to show cleavage, baggy light-wash jeans, pointed toe boots, a multi colored silk scarf tied over your head, and a suede tote bag to go with it.

“What’s wrong with it? The theme is: bonfire in The West or Midwest.”

Cane sucked his teeth, “We’re in New York, cowboy Carter, in case your ass forgot.”

“Not for long!” You sing song, already excited for where you were spending Christmas.

Christmas’ in the city was of course special but the both of you desperately needed a vacation and Cane already hinted that Christmas would be your next vacation together. He just didn’t tell you where yet or even what to pack, although you kept pushing for some details, he kept that information on lock.

“I ain’t going nowhere where we might turn up buried alive for the buffalo to feast on, that includes: Utah, Nebraska, or at that cult bullshit Kanye likes to chill at.” Cane informed while you rolled your eyes.

“Wyoming, babe.” You sigh before posing in the mirror, “I’m not jumping to those areas particularly but i know I look good and nailed it.”

Cane snorts with a shrug of his shoulders, “If you say so.”

“You still didn’t tell me what you don’t like about it.”

Cane blinked at you, as you turned back around, posing as if that was going to change his mind. “For one I don’t like that jacket and that stupid ass scarf. So you lose points for that. You’re better off wearing my durag than that.”

Scrunching up your lips you respond, “You don’t get the theme. If I wanted to do streetwear then maybe. This is western with a touch of chic, babe. Keep up.”

“You wouldn’t normally wear that shit.” He argued, yanking on one of the fringes, making you stumble forward.

Whacking him with your bag you debate, “Maybe not but if there’s a code, you know I’m gonna body it. Just wait until I get you into some cowboy boots, then you’ll understand.”

“Some what?” Cane felt his own face scrunching up, “You ain’t never catching me in those corny shits.”

“If we’re heading to Utah for Christmas—

“It damn sure ain’t Futah and stop fishing, I’m not telling you shit until December 1st.” Cane told you, making you suck your teeth and stomp your feet.

He laughed at you, loving to see you squirm.

“So?” You urged him to give a score.

Cane went silent, taking his time to see the effort you put in. Although he liked to give you crap, he knew his girl could dress. He wasn’t a fan of this style but he already pointed out what he did like from the outfit.

“…I give you a solid six.”

“A six?!” You exasperated, “you’re supposed to always say a 10 outta 10.”

“I would be lying.”

“Wooow.” You tossed the bag on the bed next to Cane, tongue pressed into your cheek, slightly annoyed.

Your boyfriend chuckles at you, pulling you by the hand so that you’re positioned right in between his knees, “I ain’t say you weren’t cute…just that this ain’t Texas.”

A crooked smile plays on your lips then, as you grip cane’s face, “We’re going to H-Town?!”

“Did I say—

Cane starts but is cut off by your kisses full of excitement, which would soon turn heated.

He was fine in that moment letting you believe whatever you wanted.

[BARRY] —

Barry had to do a double take as you strutted around his trailer, searching for something.

“Aye.”

Your head snaps up as you’re on your knees, looking underneath the kitchen table. “Hey Bear, didn’t hear you come in. Have you seen my swirl hoops? Otherwise I’m just going to have to put my Dr. Pepper ones in.”

You’re bending over again and Barry can’t help but to be a peeping Tom. You’re dressed in a dark pinstriped denim corset, and a white flowy skirt that did not leave much to the imagination when you’re down on all fours. You always did say if anyone could see your birthmark, then that means your bottom half was probably too short. However that didn’t apply if you stood upright!

He didn’t know what earrings you were talking about, at all and he didn’t even care.

“Where you goin’ in that?” Barry ignored your question with a question of his own.

Bouncing back on your feet, you spin, skirt twirling as you did so, sitting on the nook chair to slip your feet into your shoes, “It’s girl night, I’m going out.”

“Oh word? I thought you said that brat girl summer shit was over.” Barry slouches on the couch, exhausted from his day at work.

You laugh, “It’s not just a trend, it’s a lifestyle.”

Barry snorts, “Yeah, whatever that means. You look good as hell, though.”

You smile at him in thanks, heading to the back to swap the one swirl earring for your signature Dr. Pepper earrings that you made (along with other styles) and sold online instead. Barry is behind you, leaning in the doorway as you peek at him in the mirror.

“Can I help you?” You tease while Barry shamelessly runs his eyes over the back of your thighs.

He nods, “Yeah, I’m sure you can. By cancelling your plans to hang out with me instead.”

“Oh no.” You whip around after latching onto the bathroom spray, “Kie already said you would try and pull this in the group chat after the pics I sent. Which is why I hoped I would be gone before you came in. You did this last month and I’m not folding this month so control yourself.”

Barry can’t help the dimple that pokes out as he keeps his arms folded, “I ain’t hear much complaining from you then, baby doll.”

“We deserve a girls night, don’t ruin this, please!” You kept the spray aimed right at your boyfriend, almost sitting on the pedestal sink.

Barry wouldn’t be selfish, although he definitely envisioned what the both of you could get into in this cramped bathroom. The both of you heard the horn beeping obnoxiously but the both of you kept your eyes on each other instead.

“Fine, I’ll let you go.” Barry says, “You gotta give me some lovin’ first.”

Turning your eyes into slits you cautiously step forward, making sure the bathroom spray is pressed into his chest, as you leaned forward to smooch his lips.

Of course Barry let the quick kisses last for only a few seconds before he really latched his hands onto you. He let his hands roam all over your body before pulling back to the point there was a bit of saliva that separated you.

“Have fun but don’t you dare let nobody up on what’s mine, you hear me?” He let go of your jaw and licked at the corner of your swollen mouth, “Well don’t just stand there, go on, get!”

With a slap of your ass, which made you jump, you side stepped your boyfriend who had a smug grin on his face, knowing that he would be on your mind while you’re hanging with your girls.

It was all part of the plan.

Cleo was surprisingly in the driver’s seat of Kiara’s pathfinder and as soon as you got into the passenger side, the girls all peered at you.

“Girl!” Kiara starts.

Followed by Sarah who was sitting on the floor behind the driver’s side appearing a little ill as she motioned to her mouth, “You got a little—

You shushed them with a finger up in the air while you pulled on the drop down mirror, “Not a word.”

Which erupted snickers between your friends before Cleo turned the music up.

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ──

FIN.

[cranberrymoons]

that old black magic

prompt: magic au (@steddieholidaydrabbles) word count: 1,000 rated: t tags: fortune telling, witch/appalachian eddie, post-season 2

welcome to Day 20 (!!!) of the fic advent calendar – bite-sized fics posting every day during the month of december. enjoy!

The cards don’t actually do anything.

See, he waves his hand around and says some fancy words over some very old looking cards with very old looking art on them, and people assume that’s where the magic is – and the cards are old! And so is the art! But they just don’t actually do anything.

No, the magic sits in him. It always has. That’s always been the secret.

His mother had it, and his grandmother before her and her father before that and on and on, all the way back as far as the eye can see, right up the family tree to that one person at the top who made a deal with something in the woods one night, something as old as the hills themselves, that lurks behind trees and makes offers to desperate passing travelers.

But all that was hundreds of years before Eddie’s time. 

These days, there are psychics on TV and people who do tarot readings in over-perfumed salons while they sit on a throne made of cheap velvet and clatter around with their bracelets and bangles and shawls. There are people who read palms and sell incense and run little bookshops that sell mass-produced spellbooks. Crystals and incense and moon charts, the whole world awash in fake magic. All of it, all of it, noise.

But Eddie’s one of the rare real ones. He doesn’t exactly go around advertising it, but give him a set of cards and enough money? Sure, he’ll do a little fake fortune telling for you, maybe even give you a real answer or two, nudge something in the right direction so you feel like you got your money’s worth.

All that to say, the first time Steve Harrington finds him after class, one day right before winter break, and takes a furtive look over his shoulder, Eddie’s fully prepared to do the usual song and dance.

“Um, hey man,” Steve says in a low voice. “I heard you uh –” He clears his throat, shuts his eyes like he can’t actually look at Eddie as he says it. “That you can sort of see the future? Or tell people what’s going to happen or whatever.”

He opens his eyes, and Eddie studies him for a moment, raising his eyebrows. 

“Yeah,” he says after a moment. “And?”

Steve makes a face, hitching his bag higher on his shoulder. “There’s some really weird shit going on,” he says, gesturing vaguely over his shoulder. “It’s kind of hard to explain but basically… there’s something that I really hope is over, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to ask or whatever but –” He lets out a breath. “Is it actually over?”

“Harrington, that’s –” Eddie shakes his head, running a hand back through his hair. “So fucking vague. How the fuck am I supposed to know?”

“Okay, just –” Steve lets out a breath. “If you could like… I don’t know, just give it a general look, see if I’m…”

As he continues rambling, Eddie tunes him out in favor of flipping through his timeline like a mental rolodex, just to see what he’s working with. Just to see what he can spin out of King Steve’s future, but –

“What the hell did you do?” he asks abruptly, cutting across Steve halfway through blabbering about something to do with someone named Justin or Dustin or – “There shouldn’t be blank spots, Harrington. Why do you have blank spots?”

Steve blinks at him. “I –” He frowns. “Blank spots?”

“Past and future, you’ve got these weird –” Eddie flaps a hand around in the air, lost for words, because – “Blank spots. I’ve never seen that before.”

Steve’s face goes blank with surprise. “Wait, like… you can actually see my future?” he asks. “Like right now, you’re seeing it? What are you seeing?”

“I’m… just –” 

Eddie shakes his head, shuts his eyes to block out the feedback loop his brain seems to be caught in, because alongside the blank spots – and there are blank spots; what the fuck – he keeps seeing himself standing with Steve, which must be his brain trying to fill in the weird gaps? 

Maybe? 

How the fuck is he supposed to know? He’s never seen anything like this before.

“Did something happen around Halloween?” he asks finally, letting out a sharp, frustrated breath. “That’s where the first gap is, and then the next one is in like… a year or two from now? It’s kind of hard to tell.”

Steve’s expression drops, and his shoulders slump. 

“The tunnels,” he says. “That’s – Halloween. I was in the tunnels at Halloween.” He says this as if it explains anything, but Eddie honestly feels twice as lost as he was thirty seconds ago. “So it’s going to happen again, then.”

Eddie makes a face, sort of aiming for – sympathetic? That seems like what Steve needs right now, probably.

“If it’s any consolation, you’re going to survive.” He shrugs. “There’s stuff after, a long life. I keep –” He takes a breath, considering not saying the rest, but Steve is going to ask for more details if he doesn’t. “I can’t really see a ton of it, because I think the blank spots are messing with me. I keep seeing myself there in your future stuff, but I’m sure my brain’s just filling in the gaps. It’s not like –”

“Like you’re part of my future.”

“Right,” Eddie says. He laughs. “Yeah, that would be –”

“Yeah.” Steve lets out a relieved little breath, and – sure. Fair enough. “Anyway, um – thanks, man. This is… not exactly good news, but I feel a little better, you know?”

“Yeah,” Eddie echoes. “Uh– anytime.”

Steve starts like he’s just remembered, and he reaches into his back pocket for his wallet. “How much do I–”

“No, just–” Eddie shakes his head. “No charge. Just get home safe, okay?”

Steve nods, smiling a little. “Yeah, okay. Thanks.”

[also on ao3]

[sinner-sunflower]

Lucifer AU idea- Rabbit Hole

Y'all know that Rabbit Hole by Miku song with the animation trend? Imagine Luci doing that dance ugh

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

The song is Angel Dust's first official music video that he wrote after breaking free of Valentino's deal.

Ozzie had offered him a job to Club Ozzie's first Pride ring branch and Angel never felt happier.

He got into music as an outlet for his emotions, releasing 'Addict' and 'Poison' to the public via Al's radio show. (He managed to convince Alastor to do it cos it would make his ratings skyrocket past Vox and Alastor loves nothing more than kicking Vox when he's already down)

After the success of his first 2 songs, Angel decided that maybe the 3rd one should have a music video.

With the help of Ozzie as his producer, the project is a go.

Writing the song was the easy part. Angel wanted it to sound fun but also resonate with his past experiences (just read the translation of the lyrics! The one angel wrote is from this Cover!)

One day, he and Ozzie were brainstorming at the Sin's office at the Pride branch.

Ozzie: Angel, this is your first music video! It must be grand! Showstopping! Jaw-dropping! Never before seen! Revolutionary!

Angel: But how do I do that, big dick boss man? I don't think even being greatest porn star Hell has ever seen will wow people now. I've done lots of things and I can't think of anything else.

Ozzie: Hmmm

Just then, Lucifer enters the office.

Lucifer: Ozzie! Just who I'm looking for. I need you to do some inspection regarding your crystals. I just talked to Belphagor and she said that her team just confiscated a whole ton in some imp warehouse in Greed. I know I don't need to meddle but I wouldn't be worried if it was anywhere else. Who knows what Mammon is doing with those and- oh! Angel!

Angel: Heya, Short king.

Lucifer: What are you doing here?

Angel: I work here, baby~

Lucifer: Oh! I knew that haha. And what's this?

The King of Hell gestures to the board they were using for notes.

Angel: Don't tell anyone, but I'm gonna be releasin a new song and it's gonna have a music video!

Lucifer: Really?! That's great! It hasn't been that long too since Poison, wasn't it?

Angel: Yeah, but we wanna catch these motherfuckers off guard

Ozzie: That's why we're brainstorming how we can wow these desensitised demons. I still think we can do-

Lucifer: Why don't I do it?

Angel and Ozzie blink in surprise at the King's words.

Angel: Do what?

Lucifer: Act! In your music video! You know, instead of you, I'll be the uhhh 'rabbit girl'? Not that- you're uh- not enough I just mean that uhm- I think the last thing they'd expect is the King of Hell a sinner's music video.

Angel: Babe, you do know this would be a not safe for work type thing, right?

Lucifer: Yeah? I know? I know you better than you might think, you know.

Ozzie: You sure? Cos Charlie might see this.

Angel: Yeah. I know I don't wanna see my dad basically naked dancing to music.

Lucifer: You can go through it with her if it makes you feel any better. But I'm up for anything.

The two others in the room just stare at him with their mouths wide open.

Lucifer: But if you don't want I...

Angel: Hell no! We are doing this!

Ozzie: Hell won't know what hit em.

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

Charlie gave it a green light cos she's so excited about her dad finally socializing and breaking out of his cocoon to really realize what everything is about. Angel wants to record a reaction of the hotel for research purposes.

A few weeks later, the video is done and it's dropped out of nowhere.

Ozzie invited the Sins to the hotel for an exclusive live viewing (he and Angel ofc knew what time it would be released and set the whole thing up)

Everyone sat in the lobby in front of a giant projector (No, Alastor, you can't watch a video on the radio!), and as the clock struck at 9:13 AM on a random Tuesday, the video played.

Let's just say that it certainly did leave mouth agaped and caused mass panic.

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

Ozzie anonymously sent a copy to Heaven and somewhere in a bright glowing building, 6 archangels lay unconscious at the ground due to shock,

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

If you guys want me to write some dialogue for that first reaction in the hotel, drop the comment!

[supernova-stardust]

A Tender Thing

a jegulus long fic wip with background wolfstar, rosekiller, dorlene, pandalily, and emmary

ao3 is down so i figured i would post the first chapter of my fic here for y’all - there are currently 9 chapters published and i update weekly!

full chapter after the break, rating: 18+, chapter word count: 5,145, or read more on ao3

Remus always hates patrolling. It doesn’t matter who it’s with or the time of day, walking for so long always irritates his hip and quite frankly, he’d rather be spending his time doing… basically anything else. He does appreciate spending time with Marlene and Peter right now though. He hasn’t been able to see them as often lately, so he’s trying to be optimistic. But his hip really does fucking hurt.

“I don’t really know why we need to be patrolling anyway,” Marlene complains. “It’s broad daylight, it’s not like they’re really just going to come out right now to kill any muggles, right?”

Remus and Peter shrug in unison. To be honest, Remus isn’t sure why they’ve been going on so many patrols lately either. It seems like they’ve all been working longer and harder these days with very little results. Voldemort is still keeping to the shadows and the Death Eater activity has been more and more sporadic.

They turn down a back alley, the stench of stale piss and garbage filling the air around them. “Really would hate to die in a place like this, let’s keep moving,” Peter says frantically. Remus can feel his nervous energy all around them but really, why does Peter always have to bring up dying? Frankly, it’s annoying.

A flash of green light flies past in his peripheral vision, the three of them ducking behind a dumpster. Peter trips as they go, Remus pulling him into their hiding spot. The three of them exchange a worried look. Okay, so he has to admit that maybe this is why Peter is always bringing up dying. Fucking hell.

He hears a maniacal, half-crazed laugh echo down the alleyway and immediately knows who it belongs to. “Oh, did I scare the alley rats into hiding? Come out and play!” Bellatrix sing-songs as her heeled boots click clack on the pavement. Another flash of green lights up the alley as Remus and Marlene get ready to cast stunning spells. Bellatrix has reflexes like a cat, so the only way they’re getting out of here is to overwhelm her and block off escape routes. If they both cast, hopefully one of them will get lucky.

Flashes of red fill the space as Remus and Marlene cast in different directions. Marlene does in fact get lucky and lands a blow on Bellatrix as she dodges Remus’ spell. Peter lets out the greatest sigh known to man as Marlene screeches and jumps for joy. Marlene runs over to Bellatrix’s prone form, kicks her for good measure, then dances around like nothing in the world could stop her as Peter slowly lurches to his feet. Remus looks up as Peter holds his hand out.

He grasps Peter’s had and as he rises, he can tell that his hip is well and truly fucked. The moon just passed a few days ago and yeah, Sirius told him he shouldn’t have come out at all, but he’s sick of everyone coddling him. He’s only 26 for fucks sake, he shouldn’t be this damaged. And yet, he is. Every full moon he aches a little bit more, the transformations taking more and more away from him.

“You know Sirius is gonna go mental over this, right?” Peter laments to Remus, Marlene is still in her own world and neither of them want to be the one to try and pull her out of it. “Yeah, I know. If we didn’t have to give a debrief to Moody I wouldn’t want to tell him at all. You know how he gets.”

Everyone in The Order knows all too well how Sirius gets.

***

Sirius is relaxing on the couch when Remus comes through the door to their flat. He looks particularly worse for wear, his clothes are filthy and his hair is more rumpled than usual. Sirius feels his heart stop in his chest. He really doesn’t know what he’d do if something happened to Remus.

He jumps up, crossing the living room at record speed, reaching Remus before he’s even finished taking off his shoes. “What happened?” He stretches his hands up towards Remus’ face, cupping his cheeks with his palms and searching his eyes as Remus sighs heavily.

“I’m fine,” Remus insists instead of answering him.

“I know what you look like when you’re fine and it’s not… whatever this is. I knew Moody was sending you out too soon after the full moon, you’ve barely recovered.” Sirius feels frantic now. He knows that every time one of them leaves the apartment they could die, but the way Remus looks right now is making it all feel far too real.

“I don’t want them to coddle me, Pads. I really am fine. It was just a little altercation, Marlene and Pete were with me, we’re all okay. I just need a shower and I’ll be good as new, promise.” Remus kisses him softly, a chaste and sweet kiss. Full of promise and love.

“What do you mean by a little altercation, Moony?”

Remus gently grabs Sirius’ wrists, lowering his hands from his cheeks to his lips, placing gentle kisses up and down his palms. “I’m fine, Pads. Please drop it. Wanna join me in the shower?” He’s trying to distract him and they both know it.

“Not until you tell me what happened,” Sirius is feeling stubborn about this but he can’t help it. He needs to know why Moony showed up at home covered in filth and sweat, looking mildly shell shocked.

Remus lets out a sigh and drops his hands. “Fine, Bellatrix showed up. It was brief, barely anything happened. She tried to curse us but she missed, Marls and I knocked her out, we debriefed with Moody, then I came home. No harm, no foul, yeah?”

“What curse, Remus?” Sirius feels frozen in place and time. Bellatrix? She hasn’t shown her face in years, far too important to Voldemort to be risked skulking about in London. There’s no way this was a coincidence. She had to have been here for a reason and Sirius will find out why, even if it kills him. He doesn’t care how hypocritical that seems right now.

“Is it that important? She missed,” Remus mutters under his breath. He’s decidedly avoiding eye contact at this point and Sirius feels like he’s going to lose his mind.

“She tried to kill you, didn’t she?” Sirius can barely breathe. He could have lost Moony today. He could have lost Marlene and Pete too. They’ve become far too relaxed on these patrols lately, especially if Bellatrix is showing up in broad daylight. They all could have died if they had been a moment too late. Sirius could have lost them all.

“She missed. That’s what’s important here. She missed, Sirius.”

“Remus, you nearly died! She has to know what you mean to me by now, this was personal. Nothing you say will convince me otherwise,” Sirius starts pacing around the apartment and talking with his hands. His nerves are officially wreaking havoc on his body and he’d very much like this war to come to a close so he can stop worrying about everyone he loves every minute of every day. He feels like every day it gets more horrific rather than coming closer to an end. What the fuck are Moody and Dumbledore even doing to stop it at this point? Everyone is dying left and right. Last week they nearly lost Frank and he was on a mission with Kingsley, one of their strongest fighters. Kingsley trained them all and if he can be caught off guard, who’s to say they all can’t?

“Love, I’m fine, I swear.” Remus crowds Sirius, wrapping his arms around Sirius’ neck and backing him into the kitchen counter.

“How would I have known if you weren’t though? I should be going with you, we shouldn’t be separated anymore.” Remus starts nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. “I know what you’re doing,” Sirius groans.

“Hmm?” Remus starts trailing open mouthed kisses down from behind his ear to his collarbone, “I’m not doing anything.”

“You’re trying to distract me and it’s not going to work. I mean it, I’m going to talk to Moody about this. We should stick together, we make a great team. The only reason they keep us apart is because they don’t want our emotions getting in the way, but mine are getting in the way of me thinking straight at this point.” Remus’ hands begin to wander down his body, making him shiver.

“Do you really have to be so serious about it? It’s not a big deal, I’m fine. I can prove it to you right now,” he says as he pushes his hips into Sirius’ thigh, gripping his waist with both hands.

“I am literally Sirius,” he gasps. Oh he’s a weak, weak man.

“Oh, shut up.”

Remus sinks to his knees and Sirius does in fact shut up for now.

***

James walks right into Sirius and Remus’ flat, arms full of beer. He hasn’t felt the need to knock on their door since the first day they moved in together. They were all roommates for so long, they’re brothers, and Saturdays are their weekly ritual to get pissed drunk together anyway. He’s the last one here, as expected. Marlene is laying on the floor next to Peter who’s sitting up and watching Sirius like he’s an animal at the zoo. Sirius is already drunk, pacing around the living room and ranting about Remus nearly dying. What the fuck did he miss?

“I still can’t fucking believe they’d try to kill my boyfriend when I wasn’t even around to do anything about it,” Sirius complains, his words slurring together.

“Pads, come off it,” Remus sighs. “It didn’t even come close, honest. Pete, you were there the whole time, it wasn’t as close as he's making it out to be, right?”

“Uh, I mean– yeah, it wasn’t as bad as what you’re thinking, Pads, honest,” Peter tries, and fails, to soothe Sirius.

“Moony, you almost fucking died. I don’t believe Wormtail for a second,” Sirius huffs, plopping onto the couch next to Remus.

“Wow, thanks for that,” Peter glares and grabs a case of beer from James, ripping it open the moment he sets it down on the coffee table. James wanders over to the kitchen, opens the refrigerator, and piles the rest of the beer inside. As he comes back to the living room, he helps himself to a beer, popping open the can and taking a long sip. He’s going to need it, based on the way Sirius is behaving already.

“So, we all had a good day, huh?” James jests, trying to lighten the mood. Everyone glares at him as he plops on the floor across from the couch where Remus and Sirius are perched.

“Oh just lovely, considering Remus almost died and doesn’t want me to be upset about it,” Sirius pouts and grabs himself another beer. None of them mention that he probably doesn’t need it.

“Well, you’re going to love this then,” James braces himself for Sirius to fly off the handle with his news. “I heard from Mary today that your little brother is getting married, they’re hosting an engagement party tonight.”

Sirius drops his beer, splashing the cold drink all over the couch and himself. “Fuck, you can’t be serious? Married to who?”

Remus gets up and crosses over to the kitchen, grabbing a towel to mop up the mess. Sirius is unphased by any of this, too fixated on the news to even register that his pants are wet. Peter hands Sirius a fresh beer, not that he needs it.

“Narcissa, apparently. Blacks really do love to keep it in the family, huh?” The moment James heard about it from Mary he couldn’t believe it. He knows that the purebloods are having a hard time keeping their bloodlines pure, but really? Regulus’ first cousin?

James takes another long sip, steeling himself for Sirius’ reaction to the news.

“Oh no fucking wonder Bellatrix is here, her fucking sister is marrying my fucking baby brother. See Remus, I knew this was personal,” Sirius looks like he could murder, he probably would if they don’t calm him down.

James will never pretend to understand what it’s like for Sirius. When they were young, he and Regulus were inseparable. Sirius looked out for Regulus no matter the cost. Sometimes that cost was deathly high. When Sirius refused to take the Dark Mark, he begged and pleaded for Regulus to come with him and he outright refused. He hasn’t had a real conversation with him since. A few years later, they found out that Regulus had taken the Dark Mark and Sirius announced to them all that his brother was dead to him. That’s the last time any of them had even so much as mentioned his name in Sirius’ presence. Until now, that is. James couldn’t keep this from him, no matter how much he wanted to. If Sirius knew that he knew about it, James doubts that he’d ever forgive him. James wouldn’t forgive himself either.

“I have an excellent idea,” Sirius practically whispers, his eyes wide and pupils dilated. James can guarantee that his idea is not excellent.

“Sirius, love, whatever it is, let's just wait until morning, yeah?” Remus coaxes, placing the towel down and rubbing his hand up and down Sirius’ thigh. In hopes to distract him, no doubt.

“No!” Sirius pushes Remus’ hand off his leg, jumps from the couch, and starts pacing around the living room. “We should go to their stupid fucking party! How would they even know it was us? Everyone has to wear masks at those events besides the betrothed and it’s not like I’ve been around Mother and Father dearest in years.” Sirius has that gleam in his eyes that tells James there’s no way any of them are going to be able to change his mind, but he has to at least try.

“Oh fuck yes, we could go undercover, it’ll be great!” Marlene squeals, clearly the woman has no sense of self preservation.

“Sirius, your parents may not recognize you but there’s no way that your brother won’t lock eyes on you the moment you step foot in Grimmauld Place. You know this! It’s like he has some weird secret Sirius sense or something.” James feels like he’s yelling, but he’s really just desperate to have his best friend listen. Regulus would absolutely have the four of them thrown out, if not executed on the spot, for crashing his engagement party.

“Nah, Reggie wouldn’t rat me out.”

“He might not rat you out, but I can guarantee that he’ll murder the rest of us the moment he knows we’re there. Please, just drop it. I just thought you should know before you saw it in the Daily Prophet,” James begs.

Sirius absolutely will not drop it and that’s how the five of them find themselves outside Grimmauld Place for the first time since Sirius was sixteen years old, masks in hand and wands tucked up their sleeves.

***

Regulus sits at his desk, hunched over and writing his “sad boy poetry” as his brother always teased him. He’d never admit it out loud, but he misses Sirius and all the stupid shit he said. He’s been gone for almost ten years now and every day he misses him a little bit more. Honestly, how pathetic. No wonder his brother tormented him.

Sighing, he glances out the window. He was so engrossed in his writing that it’s already gotten dark outside, the lights in the garden blinking on, one by one. The roses are in full bloom and with the windows open he can smell their sweet scent billowing into his bedroom on the breeze. He stretches his back, arms rising above his head. He knows he has to get ready for the party soon, but really who would notice if he didn’t go? The real star of the show is Narcissa anyway.

Narcissa.

Of course his mother would arrange his marriage to his own fucking cousin against both of their wills. He had thought if he casually dated other purebloods for a while that his mother would simply allow him to figure it out. And by figuring it out, he means finding a lovely woman who doesn’t care that he’s gay as can be and will agree to a farce of a marriage.

But really, Narcissa?

At least he knows neither of them wants anything to do with this wedding. She is eating up the attention that the engagement brings her though. For someone who the family neglected to name after a star, she really is the brightest of the bunch.

“Okay so I was thinking-” Dorcas bursts into his room. “What the fuck, you’re not dressed yet?” She storms over to the closet, pulling out his dress robes that Mother so kindly had custom tailored just for this event. “Did you even shower? You’re expected to make your appearance with Narcissa in a half hour, Reg! I know you think I can perform miracles, but I can’t make this bullshit end.”

She’s standing in the middle of his room now, his robes draped on the bed, glaring at him. He hasn’t moved an inch.

“Yeah, yeah. I just got caught up with things.”

“What things? Writing prose and lamenting at the flowers?”

“Yes, actually.”

She smirks, clearly proud of herself for knowing her best friend so well. “Go shower, you stink,” Dorcas practically rips his arm off as she pulls him from his seat and shoves him to the adjoining bathroom.

When Regulus emerges from the bathroom, a towel around his hips and his hair dripping on the floor, Dorcas is perched on his bed, reading the book from his nightstand. “What were you thinking when you came in here?”

Dorcas looks up, clearly trying to recall what he’s talking about. “Oh! I brought whiskey!” She reaches over to her purse on his bed and pulls out a flask. “You can’t very well be sober during your engagement party to your loveliest cousin, now can you?”

They share a conspiratorial smirk and pass the flask back and forth as Regulus changes into his clothes and dries his hair. He’s putting on his shoes when they hear his mother knocking on the door, demanding that he meets with her and Narcissa at the top of the stairway to the parlor. A few moments and some breathing exercises later, he’s making his way down the hallway to meet them.

He’s never been good at controlling his anxiety, but the breathing exercises do help. He can’t help but think about how his brother found him one day when he was much younger, curled in a ball in the corner of his room, hyperventilating. He crossed the room and crouched down with him, gently brushing his hair from his face, begging Regulus to breathe with him. In for five, out for five, in for five, out for five. He hasn’t had his brother to breathe with him, but he still counts in and out for five multiple times a day.

Narcissa and his mother are whispering under their breath to each other, but when he finally gets close enough he overhears Narcissa saying something that peaks his interest. “I can’t stop Bellatrix from being Bellatrix, Aunt Walburga.”

Of course Bellatrix would do something to try and steal attention from Narcissa’s special day.

“I don’t care what it takes, we need to reign that woman in. She’ll be too impulsive one day and ruin the good name of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black,” his mother, Walburga, sneers. “Ah, finally. Regulus. You two will enter the parlor arm in arm after we’ve made the announcement. Don’t do anything that could jeopardize our good name. You’re the only heir to the family and we have high hopes for this match. Do not disgrace us.” With that, she leaves him and Narcissa alone to prepare for their grand entrance on her cue.

“How do they still not know?” Narcissa chuckles, her eyes sparkling with laughter.

“Know what?”

“That you’re so gay we’ll never produce an heir together.”

“You’ll just have to find someone who wants to produce my illegitimate heir, Cissy, she doesn’t need to know at all.” Once, when he was young, Regulus had considered coming out to his family. Once, when the world wasn’t so dark. Once, when Sirius was still his safety net, always willing to catch him when he fell. Now, he doesn’t think there’s anywhere he could be safe. He doesn’t think he’ll ever know what it’s like to live his life with any semblance of freedom.

“I mean, obviously. You could find someone to love, you know.” The tenderness that she speaks those words hits him like a train. Never had he considered that he could seek love in this marriage too. This entire time he’s just been thinking of Narcissa, of how they were going to pretend they had a happy marriage and sex life, of how they were going to further the family tree. Could he experience love?

If he’s honest with himself, he gave up on love a long time ago. Back when Sirius was still at home and sometimes invited Regulus along to visit James Potter. Those days were much brighter, warm and golden. They were only allowed to visit the Potter Manor because the Potters were technically purebloods, once considered pure enough for their family trees to intertwine. And then the dark days came and the Potters refused to kneel for the Dark Lord. Now, Sirius belongs with James in the sun and Regulus is cold and alone in the dark.

“I’ll keep that in mind. For now, let’s get through this party.” They smile softly at each other, linking their arms, and descend the stairs.

***

James is thankful that the man at the entrance didn’t recognize any of them since they had to exchange the masks they brought for silver and black ones at the door. It looks like everyone in Grimmauld Place is wearing the exact same ones, so he’s hoping that they’ll be able to blend in with the crowd. He grew up going to parties like this, but since Lord Voldemort began his thirst for power the Potters haven’t joined in any of these pureblood farces. Everyone is fake here. They all hate each other and James really doesn’t understand why they don’t just say it.

He sways a bit as they make their way through the crowd of people. He hadn’t realized how many people would show up, but I suppose that the most powerful pureblood family having an engagement party for two of their own would make for a large turn out. Everyone will be trying to arrange their own marriages for their children in hopes to secure a spot in Lord Voldemort’s favor. Scanning the room, he recognizes Evan Rosier and Barty Crouch Jr. whispering to each other, leaning against the wall near the stairway.

He’s not surprised to see Evan, he’s from an old pureblood family that allied themselves with Voldemort immediately, but he is surprised to see Barty. James is pretty sure that Barty’s father still works at the Ministry, but he supposes that the integrity of the Ministry has been up for debate for quite some time.

“Cygnus and Druella Black and Orion and Walburga Black are pleased to announce the engagement of Narcissa Black and Regulus Black,” someone announces to the parlor, pulling James from his thoughts. The entire room pauses, looks to the top of the stairs, and offers a polite applause as the couple descends.

Sirius bumps into him and they both take in Regulus standing arm in arm with Narcissa. Sirius can’t stop staring at Regulus, eyes wide and tearing up and immediately James can tell that Regulus feels Sirius’ gaze on him. His entire body stiffens, his steel gray eyes sharpen like daggers. The long separated Black Brothers lock eyes and James knows that’s the end of the game. There’s no way Regulus is going to let Sirius out of this party without a confrontation.

As soon as Regulus and Narcissa have joined the crowd and the chatter begins again, James gets Sirius moving. They need to avoid Regulus at all costs. Coming here was such a bad idea, but he really can’t fault Sirius for it. In the end, he knows this was just his way of wanting to be here for his brother. Being disowned didn’t mean he stopped loving Regulus, even if he acts that way to the rest of the world. James knows in his heart that there’s a whole lot of love between them.

He scans the room as they go, noticing that Regulus has joined Evan and Barty near the wall. Regulus is clearly freaking out, even if he’s trying to keep it quiet and subtle. Maybe to everyone at this party, he’s just excitedly chatting with his friends, but James knows better. Regulus is pissed. They should have never come here.

They stumble out to the garden, Marlene leading the way. Remus and Peter finally catch up behind them.

“Regulus saw us come this way, I think we should get out of here,” Remus says, a little out of breath. “C’mon, you showed up, it was a bad idea, let’s all go home, yeah?” They all turn a corner, trying to find their way out of this mess, and Marlene barrels head first into Dorcas. Regulus’ best friend. Oh, they’re so fucked.

“What the hell are you guys doing here? This is the last place you lot should be,” Dorcas whispers, clearly alarmed. Her amber eyes glaring in turn at each of them, light twinkling off the golden charms in her braids piled on her head.

“Dorcas, please, we all got a little drunk and carried away, we’re leaving, right Sirius?” Marlene begs, trying to walk around Dorcas to make way for their escape.

“Go now, I won’t be able to cover for you if anyone notices that you’re here, but I won’t say anything either,” Dorcas moves aside, making her way back to the party. “If you keep going that way you’ll find a back gate, it’s hidden behind some shrubs, just make sure you close it after yourselves.”

Remus takes Sirius’ hand, clearly begging him in that secret language that only they speak. In that way only people who know each other inside and out can. Soulmates.

Sirius reluctantly nods, James watches as the four of them make their way deeper into the gardens, searching for the back exit to avoid being caught. He knows they expect him to follow, and he will, but first he wants to scout out who else is at this party. This information is surely valuable to The Order, right? He’s already here, so he might as well, he knows that he can blend in well enough. Besides, it’s not like Regulus will recognize him. James turns on his heel to head back into the parlor, but instead he finds himself face to face, chest to chest with Regulus Black and he never realized just how beautiful he is.

***

Regulus could have run into any one of Sirius’ friends, but of course it had to be James Potter. James Potter with his stupid smile. James Potter with his golden eyes glowing in the twinkling lights of his favorite garden. James Potter staring at him with heat that he’s never seen in his eyes before.

“What the fuck are you doing here,” he snaps. He can’t believe how terrible his luck is that James Potter would show up here tonight, when he has to pretend to play the dutiful heir. The universe really hates Regulus, he just knows it. Why else would James be here, taunting Regulus with everything he’s ever wanted and could never have.

James stumbles back a bit, catching his bearings. He seems drunk, wobbling a bit on his feet, his cheeks slightly flushed. He’s so beautiful it hurts. “Look, I just wanted to stop by and tell you congratulations. Innocent stuff, I swear. But then you just looked so pretty and I thought it’d be such a shame if I had to leave you alone with your cousin, or, er - fiancée I suppose, for another moment.”

James Potter just called him pretty and Regulus is absolutely positive that he’s going to implode. His brain is spiraling. Regulus has wanted to hear James call him pretty since he was ten years old and first learned what a crush was, this can’t be real.

“What?” Regulus needs to hear him say it again. Needs to confirm that he didn’t just hallucinate James Potter calling him pretty.

“I mean, I’m sure the formalities of all of this is exhausting. Narcissa will be fine in there, she’s the sister who got all of the manners you know. Your mom picked the best cousin for you, I suppose. Way better than Bellatrix, eh?” James smirks as he rambles and Regulus wishes he would just stop and tell him he’s pretty again.

“Shut up, you idiot. What did you say before you got fixated on the fact that I’m marrying my cousin?” He’s getting impatient now. James is so insufferable. Why is he even asking him to say it again? It’s not like he can act on his childhood crush looking at him like this.

“Oh, er, I said you were pretty. And Godric, you really are beautiful…” James trails off, staring at Regulus with a type of longing that no one has looked at him with before. Regulus feels frozen in time. He can’t believe this is real. He wants to kiss him so badly it hurts, but he’s also aware that James was clearly at this party for nefarious reasons. This could all just be a game. Regulus’ heart couldn’t handle it if it was just a game. Instead, Regulus shoves James further away.

“You shouldn’t have ever come here,” Regulus feels like uttering these words betrays his very soul, but James doesn’t belong here. He’s innocent, free from the clutches of the Dark Lord and the dark, cold things that lurk beneath Regulus’ skin. James belongs in the sun.

Suddenly, James looks around the garden, grabs Regulus’ hand, and pulls him along the path. He hesitates at first, but James is relentless, tugging at him until they reach a willow tree. The branches reach down towards the ground in a thick curtain, James holds them aside and they slip under the willow. It feels like they’re in their own world, dark but not cold. Warm, because Regulus is holding James Potter’s hand.

[gen-is-gone]

Urban Fantasy Heartbreaker (6522 words) by gen_is_gone Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Gravity Falls Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Ford Pines & Stan Pines, Fiddleford H. McGucket & Ford Pines, Fiddleford H. McGucket & Ford Pines & Stan Pines, Bill Cipher/Ford Pines Characters: Ford Pines, Stan Pines, Fiddleford H. McGucket, Bill Cipher Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Mystery Trio (Gravity Falls), Demonic Possession, Bill Cipher Possessing Ford Pines, yay it's the same basic premise as every other 80s no portal incident AU, I like to think it'll be a good take on it though, Ford Pines Needs a Hug, Stan Pines Needs A Hug, Whump, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Physical Abuse, I mean it's Bill guys, there are no characterization thesis statements going on here I promise Summary: Lemme know if you've heard this one before: Guy meets up with brother. Guy fights brother. Guy fails to successfully push brother through inter-dimensional portal. Absent any kind of Incidents, brothers might have to actually work through their shit like adults instead of leaving it on the backburner for thirty years. Yeah, yeah. You know how this song and dance goes by now. Careful though. Clock's still ticking. Somebody's gotta be at fault, right?

[madisonmccoy]

Teo Tomczuk tells us about the next season of Rykter!

https://730.no/forteller-om-neste-sesong-teo-tomczuk/%5C~%5D

SOMMERFJAS with Teo Tomczuk

By Tayiba Haji

3 July 2024 at 15:47

Teo Tomczuk sits down with SOMMERFJAS 😎 🎵 ☀️

-

(y’all this one needed a lot of cultural context to understand properly so you can see my personal explanations/rambling below in red lol)

“Fellesferien” has officially started (this is also known as general staff vacation in English, a practice where all employees at a workplace have time off at the same time, and in Nordic countries this typically takes place during warmer months like August). And while some people turn their sights towards the South (warmer/more southern countries in Europe), others are settling in well at their Norwegian cabins.

The next man out for our Summer column is Teo Tomczuk (born in 2006).

You may know him as Mathias from the NRK series “Rykter”, but in his spare time Teo is also very involved in music.

[730.no](http://730.no) had a chat with the Bergen native about his summer favorites. As well as what we can expect from the highly anticipated third season of “Rykter”.

Hi Teo! Do you have any exciting plans for the summer?

“I am going to play some concerts in Poland, and travel around Poland a bit. And I am going on vacation to Croatia with my best friend! It's a bit funny because all the “russegruppene” in all of Norway are going there exactly when we are going there." 

(Russegruppene, or Russ groups, describe groups of students in their final semester of high school that celebrate the tradition of Russefeiring, or russ for short. This happens over a period of several weeks leading up to summer, and it is basically a continuous party commonly linked to drunkenness & public disturbances. It's also a tradition for the students to wear special overalls for the event, usually red or blue. Many groups choose to rent or buy party buses to drive around during this time. This tradition is unique to Norway and is an interesting read for those unfamiliar with it!)

Lovely! What kind of style do you go for in the summer then?

“I wear a lot of black clothes even though it's summer.”

What does the perfect summer day look like for you?

“A cabin trip combined with a fishing trip! And making music in the evening.

What movie/series did you last watch? And what roll of the dice do you give it?

“I saw The Fall Guy in the movie theater, it was very well made. The entire production. Dice roll 6!” (The roll of the dice is a Norwegian rating system for media, with 1 being the worst and 6 being the best)

Speaking of cool productions: Has the third season of “Rykter” been recorded?

“The third and fourth seasons have actually been recorded!”

Wow, so cool! What can we expect from the new season?

“You can expect a lot of love, broken hearts. Many try lots of new things and find out who they are. Mostly they get to know themselves. There will be a lot of identity stuff!”

Do you have any tips on what someone could do on a rainy day?

“I live in Bergen, so I'm used to that. The fish bite more when it rains. And make music of course.”

Do you have a favorite restaurant that you just have to visit in the summer?

“Mammas Kjøkken!” (Mom’s Kitchen)

How are you at parties?

“I'm the one who tries to put on 70s rock, haha! I’m really not the biggest party type then.”

What can we expect from you on the music front?

“I try to find my own sound. I developed a new style of pop rock that I think people can vibe with. There will be more international music, a bit of everything.”

What is this summer's vorspiel (pre-game) anthem?

"Immigrant Song - Led Zeppelin”

What is this summer's nachspiel (afterparty) anthem?

"The End - The Doors”

(Vorspiel and nachspiel are German words that are used in Scandinavian countries to mean pre and after party)

What song is best to dance to?

“Lonely Boy by The Black Keys.”

What is your darkest party memory?

“I broke a tooth once haha!”

Huh?

“Yeah, it was crazy. I was going to open a bottle. Fortunately, it went fine in the end.”

Luckily! Do you have any good tips for the day after a party?

“In Poland we have a soup that grandmas and moms have often made over the years. It's damn good the next day. And just drink lots of water before and after.”

What do you spend the most money on in the summer?

“Probably beer!”

Who would you most like to meet this summer, and why?

“The best thing would be to meet my role models.”

And who are they?

“Many of them have died, but of the ones who are alive: Alex Turner and Ozzy Osbourne.”

(ALEX TURNER MENTION !!!)

Have you ever had a summer fling? Or is there anyone who counts as one this year?

“Not this year, but I've had ones in the past. It's best during the summer, that’s really when it’s the nicest.”

Can you send us some random photos from your camera roll this summer?

Thank you so much and have a happy summer, Teo!

“Likewise!”

[tieronecrush]

a slight malfunction

javier peña x f!reader

rating: E (18+ ONLY, MDNI. you will be blocked if you don’t have age/range in your bio)

word count: 6k

summary:

I think there's been a glitch, oh, yeah / Five seconds later, I'm fastening myself to you with a stitch, oh, yeah / And I'm not even sorry…

You’ve hated Javier Peña since he left you in the dust after six months of dating, or hooking up, or whatever you want to call it. That was six years ago, right before he left for Columbia to chase after the cartels. Now, you’ve moved back to your hometown of Laredo, and the hero of the hour Javier has done the same. You hate him, so why does it feel so good to be around him?

spotify playlist / apple music playlist

warnings: NO USE OF Y/N, previous relationship, use of pet names (cariño, querida, mi cielo) very basic spanish so please correct anything in here, unprotected sex, fingering, praising, soft dom javi <3, undefined relationship, alcohol use, slight angst

a/n: i originally had some flashbacks written in about their relationship before so lmk if y’all would wanna read those as little separate one-shots to get to know these two more :) & please lmk if you wanna be included in my taglist!! i’ve got part 2 for water in your hands in the works as well as some shorter fics for javi & frankie & joel <3 love ya smooches xoxo

Flashing strobe lights briefly blind you as you open your eyes to scan the dance floor for your friends. The bass of the music is thumping where your feet touch the ground, sending shockwaves of vibrations to your chest. There’s a slight sweat on your brow, from dancing and from the sticky humidity of all of the bodies pressed in around you.

You had your eyes closed, feeling the music take control over your body. It was easy to do when you were tipsy; you were here to celebrate your friend’s going away. She was one of the last of your group left here, and you were hoping to use tonight to forget about the fact that despite your best efforts, you have been sent back to your hometown of Laredo, Texas after trying it in the big city nearby, San Antonio. It was kind of pathetic to you, how you couldn’t make it work. But you knew that a part of you was always going to think about him when you were in your apartment there, walking down the streets you used to take, or eating at your favorite restaurants. He tainted the city that you had escaped to, the two of you burning bright and fast for that summer, and you hated him for it. You hated him for the fact that he caused so much hurt that you abandoned your dreams and slunk back to little old Laredo. That was years ago now, but the alcohol in your system made the pain burn just as bright as it did back then.

You shake the anger loose from your mind, continuing your search for your friends, or even a stranger to keep your mind off of the embers of heartbreak that your anger was fanning. Lights of all different colors flashed across the faces of the dancers around you, some coupled up, some groups of women moving together, and others totally on their own like you. As your eyes move back and forth in search of someone to distract you, the beat of the song lines up with a blink of the strobe light. Your eyes stare directly ahead, and the sight you catch a glimpse of sobers you in an instant.

You don’t believe in ghosts or supernatural powers. But it dawns on you that the only logical explanation for the face you just saw had to have been a paranormal force. Or your buzzed mind playing cruel tricks on you. Eyes stick to the same spot, wondering if the vision will strike twice. If it did, you definitely needed to go sit down and drink some water. The beat of the song sends another flick of the strobe light in the dark room, the same illusion crossing under the beam, except this time it’s a few paces closer.

Nerves turn in your stomach, a chill is sent across your skin and down your spine despite the severe heat of the room. There’s no way this is real. You blink a few times, squeezing your eyes shut to focus your brain on anything else. When you open them again, the lights are flashing quicker as the song picks up the tempo, and the hallucination you’ve produced is moving closer. Each flash sends it a step closer, the bodies around it moving out of the phantom’s way, commanding energy rolling off it. The movement of the lights makes everything feel as if it’s in slow motion, and the alcohol in your system isn’t helping you speed away.

Eyes screwed shut again at one last attempt to pull yourself out of this dream, or nightmare, you can’t tell at this point. When they open, the figure you’re imagining is two steps in front of you. The strobe hasn’t hit their face again for a few moments, both of you watching the other in the darkness. Just as the song is finishing, the lights flash in quick succession, illuminating the figure enough to get a good look at them.

Javier Peña. Fucking Javier Peña.

Hands move of their own volition, reaching out in the slow motion of the lights flashing, touching his chest. You feel the fabric of his linen button-up and the hard press of his muscle underneath your touch, confirming your worst fear.

You weren’t imagining it, and he’s not a ghost. Javier is standing right in front of you.

The sudden realization makes your hands burn against his body; you quickly pull them back but his reflexes are faster, more precise. His large fingers gently wrap around your wrists, holding them between your bodies as his head leans down to speak clearly in your ear over the loud house music.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, cariño?” His baritone reverberates against your ear, tepid, humid breath skating across the skin of your neck.

Javier takes a step back, an impish smirk spread across his face and a glint of teasing in his eyes. The familiarity of the look isn’t lost on you, your heart constricting at the reminders of his words and his presence. His proximity does something to your body, the shaky adrenaline high making you feel as if you’re floating. Immediately, your brain tries to shut down any of these physical responses to him, searing into your mind memories of you crying alone in your bedroom, your roommates gently checking in on you for days after he left; memories of you moving out of San Antonio months later, hating your job and hating the reminders of him in your everyday life. Your body reacted to these instead, steadying your hands and hardening your expression.

“Fuck off, Javier. Leave me alone.” You pull your wrists from his hold easily, hitting his shoulder as you walk past him to get lost in the sea of people.

His presence follows you, a burning heat felt from the back of your head and down your spine as you continue to weave through the bodies around you; you know he’s following you and you know he’s going to catch you. It was a big part of his job description after all.

A rush of cooler air surrounds you when you break free at the edge of the dance floor. You take a deep breath and scan quickly for anyone familiar to find safeguard in; one step takes you forward towards the bar when you feel that same touch on you. The same touch you could feel in dreams over these years, only marginally different with a bit more roughness from being out in the field. It sends a current over your body and straight to your brain, your nerves firing off before you have the chance to think further. Turning towards the direction of the hand, you’re met with those big brown eyes giving you that damn puppy dog look. Javi’s doing it on purpose, obviously knowing it got him pretty far with you before. It nearly breaks you this time, but something switches on again in your brain, your heart freezing over once again as you pull your arm back to your side.

“I said, fuck off, Javier. I don’t have anything to say to you.” The words grit out from your teeth, coming out louder than normal to be heard over the music and from the anger behind them.

He sighs, the pleading look still swimming in his eyes. He nearly reaches for you again - clenching his fist and flexing his fingers out to hide the compulsion to touch you.

“And what if I have something to say to you?” He raises an eyebrow in question, moving his hands to his hips in that Government Agent™ fashion that is supposed to intimidate you or tell you he doesn’t have time for your shit.

This all makes you scoff, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms against your chest. A stone-cold stare pierces through his composure, a bit of his confident demeanor faltering under your anger.

“I would tell you that you’re about six years too late, Peña. We have nothing to talk about that we both haven’t moved on from. I’ll even say we can be friends at some point if it gets you the fuck away from me tonight.”

“Cariño, you know I --”

“I don’t wanna hear it, Javi. I don’t --- Don’t bring me back there. And stop calling me that.” You are the one pleading now, feeling just as pathetic as you did the day he left. You can’t bring yourself to face him any longer, the memories that are rushing back fill your chest with concrete; it’s solid, unmoving, constricting. With nowhere to go, you find an empty table towards the back to take a moment to yourself. You close your eyes and breath, willing yourself not to shed another tear over him.

A glass is set down in front of you, your favorite --- a G&T with lime. Eyes follow the manicured hand that placed it on the table to a waitress with sympathy in her eyes. 

She leans down and says gently to you, “Been there, hon. This is from that guy over there --” She points behind her and you see Javi looking over at you with a glass of whiskey in his hand. He presses his lips together and raises his glass the tiniest amount, a pathetic cheers and attempted olive branch extended. The waitress continues, “He’s the one you’re upset over? It’s none of my business, but he seems like a decent one. Real respectful and polite.”

Nothing could make this worse. Even a complete stranger was charmed by Javier Peña, enough to try to convince you to hear him out. Shaking your head, you push the drink away from you and look at her. “You don’t know him like I do, unfortunately. Don’t let the eyes fool you, he knows they work for him.”

She laughs at that, nodding. “My boyfriend had the same tactics…Now we’re married with two kids. Never know what could happen.” Those were her parting words as she headed back to the bar. You stare down the drink, not bringing it any closer and not daring to take a sip from it. You don’t want any reason for him to feel like he won any part of this. It was his turn to feel rejected, left behind, and lonely when the dust settles.

The avoidance of the drink is not enough of a deterrent it seems; familiar, tight around the thigh blue jeans come into your line of vision for a moment before getting replaced with the burnt orange short sleeve button up strained across his chest and then his face. He’s sat across from you now in the small booth, toying with his own glass between his two hands.

“I know you’re going to tell me to fuck off again, but do you think we could just maybe have a normal conversation? As friends, like you said before?”

“I said that to get you to fuck off, Javi.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But it’s the only thing that I can say to maybe get you to indulge me. Just gimme ten minutes. Then you can tell me to fuck off all you want.”

You give him a look that tells him to go on, annoyance clear in the way you suck your bottom lip between your teeth and raise your eyebrows expectantly.

“Alright, uh, I’ll take that as a yes to one conversation…” He pauses for a beat, looking down into his glass and back at you, “So, uh, how are you? What’s brought you back to Laredo from San Antonio? I thought you loved it there.”

You stare at him incredulously, mouth hanging open slightly. You scoff for the second time around him, shaking your head as you look around for whatever hidden camera is going to pop out and tell you that you’re on some prank show. There’s no way he could be asking you those questions without knowing the answers already.

“Are you seriously asking me that? I was doing a lot better before tonight. And you’re the reason I’m back here. Most of it, at least. I hated my job and I hated San Antonio after you left me there. Couldn’t leave my apartment without finding some stupid reminder of you. It was torture,” your words spill out before you can think, something overriding all of your judgment to keep this filed inside your mind and locked away. “Did you just want to talk to fuck with me, Javi? To be cruel?”

His eyebrows draw together, the shadow of the line between them darkened further in the dim lighting. The corners of his mouth draw down with a pout, his lips parting as he searches for his words. It feels like you’ve kicked a puppy, those big brown eyes drilling into yours. Your brain short circuits, your heart powering your movements and thoughts as you nearly reach to comfort him. You hold off as he finally speaks, his volume just enough to be heard over the music, but restrained enough to convey his hurt.

“I would never be cruel to you, cariño. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Now or then?” Your voice still has a biting edge to it, more than you meant to have at the moment.

“Both.”

The simple word completely overrides your thoughts at that moment, the weight of the truth and emotion behind it evident in his eyes. It all swims around in the brown pools, the slightest gloss washing over and catching the strobing lights.

Like a puppet of yourself, your hand moves with a mind of its own to his laying on the table. His skin on yours continues to fry your logical thinking, the currents from feeling his touch on you sending shockwaves all the way down to your toes. The line between his brows laxes, fingers wrapping around your hand to join it with his completely. Unsaid words are spoken through touches, eyes communicating to each other that you both felt the voltaic charge zip through your bodies and singe your nerve endings.

Part of your brain screams at you that this is a bad idea, a malfunction in your judgment. You aren’t exactly sure if Javi fully understands what he did to you, the pain he caused, and if he knows what he was apologizing for all these years later. But you don’t really care at the moment. If the two of you never went beyond this night, you could live with the closure that the simple apology gave you.

At this moment, all you want to do is feel him. Be close to him. Press yourself against his figure, sparking together to generate the heat you feel with him.

Hands grip firmly as you stand, his tugging you slightly back to the table to keep you near before he realizes that you’re leading him with you. A knowing look on your face, the slightest of friendly smiles, and your feet pointed towards the dance floor clue him in completely. He rises from the seat, eyes never leaving you as he lets himself be dragged through the sea of bodies. 

His hand squeezes yours tighter as more people crowd around you as if he didn’t hold that tight that you might disappear entirely. You reach the crowded center of the dancefloor and turn back towards him, the bump of the R&B music vibrating the floor and rippling throughout your limbs to the tips of your fingers.

The music charges your touch even more, the press of your hands on Javi’s chest shocking him into submission. Eyes trail over his full shoulders, the linen fabric of his shirt scratching under the pads of your fingers. The low thumps of the bass in the song make your hips start to move rhythmically, swaying side to side smoothly like a pendulum hypnotizing him. His hands move quickly, much faster than the rest of his body has taken to catch up to the moment, resting on your hips to feel the swing and pull you closer to his front. Large palms slip around to span across your ass, fingers gently squeezing to bring your body tight against his. Your bodies move in syncopation with the muddy thuds of the bass line, a sheen of sweat building on your cleavage and his neck.

The first thought you have in minutes is the idea to lick the perspiration off of his skin, leaning in closer to fit your head in the space between his neck and shoulder. Parted lips exhaled even more humidity, eyes watching as the glossy skin of his neck continued to catch the light with ever different movement. A hand holds the other side of his collar, holding him in that position to allow you space to ghost your lips over the sticky skin. A featherlike kiss pressed to the surface makes the veins in his neck pop out in surprise, hands on your ass gripping tighter. The denim of his pants digs into the exposed skin of your skirted thighs, rough sensations balancing the soft, syrupy ones of your lips on him.

Indulging in your thoughts, your tongue peaks out from between your parted lips, your head bending to the exposed skin from between the top few undone buttons of his shirt. The muscle swipes up the sweat at his and replaces it with the gleam of your saliva, an audible groan rolling from Javier’s lips and straight into your ears. The sound halts you for a second, repeating over and over in your head. The lack of control at the moment allows for Javi’s sizable hands to work back to your hips and twist you around, a quick tug pressing your back fully against his chest and ass against his growing bulge.

The shock from the quick change in dynamic makes you whimper from the loss of control over him, quickly replaced with soft, breathy moans as his hips grind into your backside. You arch against him, one hand laying over his larger palm that’s commanding the wave of your bodies together, the other of yours moving up and back to grip the nape of his neck. Eyes close, losing one sense to focus on the others. You want to hear every breath, every little sound that leaves his lips, memorize every brush of his fingers or the friction of his jeans against the cotton of your dress.

Javi’s head lulls down towards your open neck, lips marking the glossy skin with heated kisses and bites, tongue soothing over any irritation. The two of you are completely intertwined, easily fitting back together as you did years ago as if no time or heartbreak had passed at all. Flashes of thoughts cross your mind that you should pull away, walk off, never speak to him again. But, with every single one of those thoughts, his hips grind against you or lips graze your skin, and another stitch is sown to keep you two together longer.

Songs bleed into the next, Javi and you making your own rhythms to keep yourselves as close as possible and his dominating contact letting you shut your brain off to feel in the moment. You can’t even tell how much time has passed when you finally turn halfway in his arms, his hands still clutching you at any spot they can reach. It could have been minutes or hours, you didn’t really care. It just felt good. A small motion of your hand brings his head down to yours, ear tilted towards your mouth. Your lips brush over the shell of his ear, a breathy suggestion extended to him.

“Do you wanna get out of here?”

Touches catch on each other as the two of you exit the sweaty bar into the chilled late-night air of early fall. Humidity was still thick in the air, but rolling out of the clammy dance floor, the moist air was refreshing. Deep breaths fill your lungs with clean air, the breaths you take stolen intermittently by heady kisses from Javi. His arm is hooked around your waist, palmed splayed on your stomach to hold you impossibly close. Feet stumble over each other in your tangled mess, but eventually, you both make it to your apartment a few blocks away in the tiny downtown of Laredo.

Your current focus is on fishing your keys from your bag on your arm, Javi standing behind you with his lips on your neck distracting you from the task at hand. Without pulling away from you, he reaches into your purse and pulls out house keys hooked onto his index finger. You snatch them eagerly, fumbling with the two locks. Javi all but carries you inside, hands once again finding any part of you they can reach. Waist, hips, breasts, ass, thighs. Rinse with a breath away from his making out with you, and repeat. The movements are programmed into both of you on your way to your bedroom, discarding shoes and clothes as touches skate across each other’s skin.

Right at the edge of your bed, the backs of your thighs pressing against the edge of the mattress, Javi pulls away in a half-lidded stare, voice husky with lust.

“Are you sure? I didn’t think this was gonna happen, it wasn’t my goal when I saw you --”

“Wow, way to make a woman feel wanted, Javi.”

“No, no. Not what I meant. At all. I very much want you and am absolutely going to ruin you if you just say the word,” his eyes darken with the images of what he’s been waiting from you again, yearning over the course of years to be in this exact situation, “But, I want to be sure that you want this.”

“Yes, Javi. I want this. I want you to ruin me.” A smirk crawls across your face, watching the composure slightly crumble behind his eyes before being replaced with pure hunger. The expression doesn’t last for long - lips catch yours in an inebriating kiss. The smallest parting of your lips invites Javier’s tongue in, the muscle dominating yours into submitting to his movements. Hands grip your waist and the side of your jaw, fingers sprawling to lock you into place.

He tilts his head down, yours falling back in a lull - completely drunk on the taste of him. Your tolerance had lapsed from years apart, and now every morsel of him bursts adrenaline throughout your body.

Javier cages you in, arms lowering you down to first sit, then using one of his expansive hands to press against your stomach to urge you to lay back. Legs dangling over the side, his shoulders push your thighs apart while he sinks to his knees and inches closer to your panty-covered heat. Slick floods the fabric, and just by one look in his eyes, you know he can feel it as he presses two fingers against the small strip of cotton and lace.

“This from missing me, cariño? Is your pretty little pussy still crying for me after all these years?” His timbre reverberates in your chest, whimpering pathetically at his words. Fingers press against your clit through your panties, slow wide circles jerking small twitches out of you. It feels so foreign yet so familiar to have his hands on you again, the calluses rougher but the shapes and pressures the same. It takes him a moment to remember the rhythm you like, muscle memory guiding him in opening you up further. A soft moan escapes your lips, the sound turning into a whine at your frustration to be given more.

“What, mi cielo? Do you want more? Use your words. I’ll give you what you want if you can ask for it.” Dark, desire-filled eyes lock into yours as he awaits any response from you.

“Please, Javi, I wanna feel you. Need your fingers, or your mouth, or your cock. Something, please.” The intensity of your fervor for him spills out the words in whimpers and begs. The expression on Jack’s face turns smug for a moment, relishing in the effect he still has on you all this time later.

“Good girl. Buena chica. I’ll give you all of that and more, just cause you asked so nicely.” His lips graze the soft skin on the inside of your thighs, hot breath fanning over the wet cloth covering you. Fingers reach to hook into the waist of your panties, tugging them down as they catch on your ass against the mattress. Discarded somewhere in the room with the rest of your clothes, your panties are forgotten as Javi’s focus zeroes in on the arousal glistening against your outer lips. A soft groan falls from his mouth, tongue wetting his lips and Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows the flood of saliva.

His index and middle finger of one hand reach up between your thighs, spreading your lips slowly to reveal your soaked pussy fully to him. Propping up on your elbows, your eyes find him staring as if he’s seeing a precious jewel or having an epiphany. Eyes blown wide, jaw dropped open just so. It makes you feel powerful for a moment, knowing you cause this reaction in him.

The power trip doesn’t last long - Javi’s free hand touches his fingers to your clit, a jolt of electricity is sent through your nerve endings, thighs twitching. He’s mesmerized by the cause and effect, fingers working agilely in circles to draw more shudders and soft sounds from you. Fingers that were spreading you open drop from this spot, nudging your entrance to collect some of your wetness. As another whimper escapes your lips, Javi’s two fingers slip into your entrance effortlessly, whimper turning into a louder moan. Thrusts and circles of his digits work you closer, the ones inside you hooking with every uptick to press against that spot you and anyone besides Javi couldn’t seem to find.

Greedily, he removes his fingers from inside of you, studying your slick on them for a moment before slipping the two into his mouth to clean them. He hums in satisfaction, leaning in after taking them out with pop; his breath sends humidity against your seeping cunt, his voice incredibly thick with craving.

“Been waiting to taste that again for so long, cariño. Didn’t think I’d ever get to again. You’re the sweetest I’ve ever tasted. Dulzura.”

“Better savor it now then, Peña. Don’t know when or if you’ll get it again.”

At your quip, he sends a restrained slap to the side of your ass, a smug and entertained expression crossing his face when you gasp.

“Think we both know that after tonight, you’re gonna be begging me for more. Just like before, querida. Won’t be able to satiate you. I told you I was going to ruin you. I meant I would ruin you for every other man. Nadie va a ser tan bueno como yo.”

His tongue swipes up your slit, swirling around the fingers still working your clit and making its way to your entrance, kitten licking in and out. He consumes you like a ravenous man. His tongue and fingers work you up quickly, walls tightening around the thick fingers that pushed inside you while his mouth sucks at your swollen clit. Eyes screw shut, visions of shapes and colors against the black as your body tenses up for that glorious release. Your sweet sounds with his name mixed in have made him painfully hard, his hips rutting against the edge of the bed to find some relief while he drew out your first orgasm.

Short breaths draw cool air into your lungs, and your tension relaxes completely. Javi stands from his kneeling position, eyes pouring over your body laid out on the bed. You look at him through half-lidded eyes, still coming off of your intense peak.

“Look so pretty all fucked out, cariño. Missed that face of yours, like you can’t think of anything but how good I make you feel,” he chuckles, satisfied in himself, while giving slow strokes to his length already dripping with pre-cum. The sight makes you sit up more, lips moving closer to his waist to try to grab a taste. He grips your shoulder, shaking his head and tsking down at you.

“Next time, mi cielo. Such a good girl wanting to taste me,” his hand against your shoulder pushes you back down against the mattress and his head nods up in a silent demand for you to move further up the bed. You obey, scooting up as he climbs over you.

Your legs spread wide to give way, his hands pushing down on your thighs. The stretch makes the muscles in your hips burn slightly. His gaze locks onto the mess of arousal slicked around your heat. Tongue pokes out to lick his lips, his eyes crawling up from your open legs to your eyes.

“Such a pretty pussy, cariño. Missed it so much. Can I have it again? Gonna make you feel so good. Coño perfecta. Voy a hacer que todo sea mío otra vez. No soporto verte con nadie más.”

“Please, baby. I want you. I missed you, dreamed about you all the time,” you sound breathy, eager for him to make good on his promises, even if you don’t fully understand the ones in his first language.

Your consent with a confession tacked to it darkens his eyes, his dominance over you still having a soft, warm edge. His brown eyes were still sweet, promising you without words that he would take care of you. That there was an endless apology to give you.

A rousing kiss connects the two of you again, stealing your breath as he notches himself at your entrance. The kiss pauses as you exhale a throaty moan, Javi thrust into you with a dull stretch. The modest burn of pain is sent through your thighs and hips, his cock only buried half hilt. You purr out a moan for more and he loses all poise, bucking his hips to fill you completely. After a minute to adjust to his size again, he finds a rhythm of movement that coaxes out whimpers and moans with every hit inside your walls. Javi’s lips attack your neck, marking you with a love bite at your collarbone.

“Haré realidad cualquiera de tus sueños. I’ll give you whatever you want, cariño,” his humid words fog out against your sticky skin, hands gripping your hips as his thrusts move quicker. He works you up, his words and hoarse groans nudge you closer with every sound.

“Feels so good, Javi. ‘M close, fuck,” you gasp as he hits just the right spot inside of you, sending a shock of pleasure through you, arching your back off the mattress.

“Que buena chica. Let go for me, wanna feel you come on my cock.”

Words and quick, hard thrusts send your brain and body into a short circuit, his name falling from his mouth over and over in a glitch. Your walls tightening around him send him over the edge a few short hits later, warm spend filling inside you as his hips slow. His chest moves up and down in deep breaths, eyes studying your euphoric release.

A warm, comforting limpness softens your form, Javi separating from you with a small groan. He migrates from his position between your legs to lay beside you, turning you to bring your back against his chest. Limbs tangle together after he brings the blanket up over the both of you, exhaustion from the night quickly pulling you into sleep. You hear his voice once more before dozing off completely.

“Te extrañé mucho, cariño. No quiero volver a perderte. Sé que tú eres mi media naranja.”

Balmy Texas morning light filters through the windows of your bedroom as your eyes peel open. You move to reach a hand up to rub the sleep from your eyes, fingers brushing against Javi’s arm causing him to stir slightly. You turn over in his arms, feeling fully awake with the burst of adrenaline from the fact that Javier is laying right next to you after so much time away. Eyes comb over his features, noting the small changes in his face, just barely deeper wrinkles next to his eyes and between his brows, a few small scars from cuts littering his skin. His mustache is fuller than it was before, aquiline nose still creates his signature profile.

“Mmm, you’re staring, cariño. See anything different?”

“Some things. But different isn’t bad.”

At that, his eyes crack open, squinting in the morning light. The warm browns fleck gold and caramel in the sunlight, melting your heartache. His hold around your waist pulls you closer, a look of genuine care sending a shudder down your spine from its intensity.

“Does that mean I might have a chance still? Even though it’s different?”

“I don’t know. Are you leaving again?” The question is the one that has been plaguing your mind since seeing him again. This could have just been a one-night thing, he could be escaping back to Colombia tomorrow, leaving you behind again.

“No. I’m retired, technically. Working on my dad’s ranch with him.” He searches for any response in your eyes, the gears of your brain overworking as you think about what this all means. Before you can say anything to him, he continues, voice soft and low.

“You were the first person I wanted to see when I came back, cariño. I’ve regretted that day since it happened; you have no idea how many times I sat by my phone down there, your number memorized. I could never hit the last digit. I knew if I heard your voice, I’d be on the next flight home to try to win you back. I just - I couldn’t do it. I knew it would hurt too much to talk to you about everything and have to stay there. I couldn’t get out until now. And you’re all I have been thinking about since I came home. Ever since someone said you were back in Laredo, I’ve been looking for you in every store I enter, every time I come into town. I wanted to see you. I’m sorry for springing it on you last night, for not calling to say I was back. But when I saw you, I couldn’t let you go again. Not without a fight. I am so sorry I hurt you, cariño. I love you. Tú eres mi media naranja. You’re my other half.”

Silence falls over the room, the only sound is sheets rustling with small movements. Thoughts rush all over your mind, conflict rearing about what to do next. Part of you says to hurt him back just like he did to you, deny him. Logic says to take a moment to think, to have space to look at the big picture. But the largest, loudest part of you tells you that even though you went into everything last night thinking you two probably didn’t have a chance, you would regret it even more if you didn’t try. All you can say is that, as stupid as it might turn out to be, you haven’t stopped thinking about him either. Every guy in between hasn’t sweat him out of your system; you feel your resolve breaking down in the best way, letting go of the past and wanting to just start fresh.

“I love you, too. But you’ve got a lot of groveling to keep doing, Peña. Better get to it.” You send him a playful wink and bite back a laugh, his eyebrows raising at the comment. He nods and moves to climb over you, a wide boyish grin on his face.

“Oh, you better believe I’ll make it up to you. As many times as you want. Te amo, cariño. Eres mío para siempre.”

edit: realized my spanish translations didn’t copy over so here they are!!

cariño - honey, love

querida - dear

mi cielo - my sky, my heaven

dulzura - sweetness

Nadie va a ser tan bueno como yo. - Nobody is ever gonna be as good me.

coño perfecta - perfect pussy

Voy a hacer que todo sea mío otra vez. - I am going to make it all mine again.

No soporto verte con nadie más. - I can’t bear to see you with anyone else.

Haré realidad cualquiera de tus sueños. - I'll make any of your dreams come true.

Que buena chica. - Such a good girl.

Te extrañé mucho, cariño. - I missed you so much, love.

No quiero volver a perderte. - I don’t want to lose you again.

Sé que tú eres mi media naranja. - I know you are my other half.

Te amo, cariño. - I love you, honey.

Eres mío para siempre. - You’re mine forever.

taglist: @swiftispunk @joelsversion @pedrit0-pascalit0 @ok-anon @milla-frenchy @livinxdeadxgrl @theelishad @comicswhore @reuss7 @pdrpscllvr @oneofutoo @kaletastrophes @asirenbyanyothername

[galexystern]

number one fan - 18+

pairing; steve harrington/eddie munson/fem!reader aka steddie/fem!reader

rating; E

warnings; smut (MDNI), like lots of smut, unprotected p in v, double teamed, creampie, dirty talk, filthy dirty talk, light degradation, pwp, this is mostly smut with some fluff

word count; 5.5k

desc; it was never a competition.

a/n; this is basically a variation of my previous work come together (over me), i'm not sure where all this smut is coming from. but enjoy!

masterlist

Eddie notices you while he's onstage.

It's not because of your appearance or features—though you are absolutely gorgeous. It's also not due to your dancing, which is a little sexy, a little goofy, a lot fun. No, you catch his eye because you are singing along with him to the last chorus of their newest song. Corroded Coffin has only played it at a couple shows so far, and most of the crowd are rightly just nodding along pleasantly. But you, you are almost performing the words, like you know them so innately you don't have to focus.

He'd be lying if he didn't find it extremely hot.

He's moving on autopilot, so distracted by you, that he almost misses his cue to finish their set. "Thank you guys!" He rushes out. "We're Corroded Coffin!" He turns around so he and the band can hit their last few measures and ending beat together. As the note reverberates out, he spins back to the mic and adds, "We have records for sale up here also, come see one of us to buy!"

The crowd cheers and starts to disperse. Eddie lets Gareth and Jeff keep an eye out for customers and wipes his face with a nearby towel. But then he hears a perky "Hi!" and drops it to see you standing in front of the stage. He speeds toward his band members and sticks his face between them.

"Hi there," he says cheekily, and when you look up at him, you beam.

"Oh my gosh, hi," you gush. "I was just telling Jeff and Gareth that your set was so great. I love that new song."

Eddie pushes his friends' shoulders, implying that he's got this one. They grumble but leave anyway. He sits on the stage's edge and gives you a grin. "Yeah?" You nod. "I could tell. Caught you singing along at the end."

You blush. "Well, it's very catchy."

"Thanks, angel." You duck your head. "Now what can I do for you?"

"Can I buy a record?" You ask shyly.

"Course you can." Eddie grabs one from the stack while you smooth out some money from your pocket. "Five dollars, sweetheart." You hand it to him and he takes it, purposely running his fingers across your palm. He studies you at the same time and thrills when you go redder. But he doesn't hand you the vinyl yet. "You want me to sign it? Free of charge."

"Sure," you say excitedly. Eddie grabs a marker from his pocket and scrawls his autograph on the cover. Then he gives it to you, smiling as you clutch it in your arms. "Thanks!"

"Anytime, princess." With that, you give him an adorable wave and walk away, disappearing into the crowd. Eddie instantly slides off the stage and makes a beeline for the back. He weaves through the people until he reaches Steve, working the camera. "Holy shit," he says.

"What?" Steve asks flatly, focused on packing up the supplies.

"I'm in love." Eddie fake-swoons.

Steve snorts. "Yeah, right. Who is it this time?"

"Such a pretty girl. She was dancing to our set and Steve—" he makes his friend look at him, "—she was singing along. To our new song."

"Wow," Steve replies, half-heartedly.

But Eddie doesn't notice. He's too busy dreaming about you. "She came and bought a vinyl. I signed it for her." He says the last sentence with pride.

"You write your number down too?"

Eddie's mouth drops open and then he groans. "That would've been so smooth."

Steve snickers. "This is why I've always had more game than you." Eddie just huffs. His eyes are roaming the bar but he can't see you. He sadly suspects you've left. Steve continues, "What'd she look like?"

"Well..." Eddie trails off as he turns to Steve and spots the camera. "Here," he says excitedly, and lifts up the camera and turns it on. Steve goes to grab for it but Eddie just holds it closer to him and rewinds the tape until he can see you. "Look, that's her."

Steve looks at the screen and squints. He can see...an arm? A hip? A blurry shot of a face? "I can't see anything, dude."

Eddie rolls his eyes and hands back the camera. "Well, next time I'll introduce you."

"You do that," Steve responds with a smirk.

;

Steve meets you on his own instead.

At the Hideout again, he sits at the bar nursing a Tom Collins. Corroded Coffin is nearing the end of their set but Steve's been watching you—you're grooving on a stool near him, practically bouncing out of it. You're clearly feeling the music and it's too cute when you cheer after each song. He wants to talk to you but waits, since people have come up to you during the music and you've brushed them off to pay attention. He's impressed, but also keeps an eye on your drink too.

Finally, as Eddie is thanking the crowd and reminding them they have vinyls for sale, Steve slips out of his seat and makes his way to you. He smiles at how you yell the loudest for the band. When he's close, he says, "Hey."

"Holy shit!" You exclaim and turn around quickly, startled.

Steve laughs unexpectedly. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."

At the apology, you exhale. Turning sheepish, you reply, "It's okay. I'm sorry. I get spooked easily."

Steve nods. "I couldn't help but notice your dancing. Why didn't you get out on the floor and show it off?"

You eye him, smirk telling him you can see through his pick-up line, but spin towards him anyway. You hold up your leg, showing off a cast around your ankle, covered in signatures. "I would, but alas, I cannot," you say.

"Damn, what happened?" Steve sits on the stool next to yours.

You sigh. "It's embarrassing."

"I won't laugh." At your look, Steve holds up his hands to show he's not crossing his fingers. "Promise."

"Well...I was babysitting my little cousins a few weeks ago and we were playing the floor is lava, you know?" Steve nods. "So we'd taken all the cushions off the couch and chairs and put them on the ground, and we were jumping on them so the lava wouldn't get us." You say this like it's so obvious. It makes Steve smile. "Everything was fine until one cushion was partly on the carpet and partly on the hardwood floor. I leaped for it and it went flying out from under me. Broke my ankle for my trouble."

"That's not embarrassing at all," Steve replies. "You clearly got wounded in battle. You should receive the purple heart for your bravery."

You giggle. "Thank you. Someone finally recognizes my contribution to the war effort."

"I salute you." He actually does too, making his attitude stern so he can give a proper one. "Sucks though."

"Yeah." Your voice goes sad. "I love dancing here. But," you shake your head and brighten, "I will again. This comes off in a few days."

"Nice." Steve gives you a high-five. He lets his fingers slide across yours as he pulls his hand away. Shivers run through him. Remembering Eddie's predicament, he's about to ask for your name when...

"Steve!" Speak of the devil. Eddie's voice comes floating through just seconds before he appears. "It's hopeless. She's not here—" He stops short, both physically and verbally, when he spots you next to Steve.

You take one look at Eddie and then turn to Steve. "You didn't tell me you know the band!"

"I—" Steve stammers as Eddie turns to him with a raised eyebrow and smirk.

"Oh, Steve's our camera guy," Eddie says. "Hello again, angel."

"Hi," you reply, blushing. "Great job tonight."

Eddie grins. "Thanks. Though I missed your dancing."

As you spin around to face him, Steve points down and explains, "Broken ankle." Eddie shoots him a glare.

"Would've if I could've," you add, nodding sadly. "But, like I told Steve, I will dance again."

"Good," Eddie interjects before Steve can. "Starting to think you're our good luck charm. We keep selling out vinyls when you're here."

Both boys love it when you giggle.

Then you look at your watch and sigh. "Sorry, boys, I gotta run," you continue, sounding disappointed. "I'm on duty tomorrow." You look at Steve, who salutes you again.

"Thank you for your service," he says strictly, before laughing with you. Eddie rolls his eyes a little.

"Anyway," turning your attention back to Eddie, "you guys sounded so good tonight. Maybe you'll have another record released soon?" You ask hopefully.

"Actually, we do have some studio time this weekend. So you're in luck," Eddie answers proudly, and grins at your excited gasp. "I'll make sure we have one just for you next time. I'll even get the whole band to sign it." You clap your hands together in happiness. "Sound good?"

"Sounds amazing," you gush. "Thank you."

"Like I said, anytime, princess."

You slip off the stool and hobble around them. "You need help?" Steve asks, concerned. Eddie nods, seconding the question.

You wave them away. "Nope, I got it. Though this is not the 'make them watch you walk away' moment I'd hoped for." You laugh. "Steve, thanks for not laughing. Eddie, amazing show as always. I'll see you." With that, you enter the crowd.

Eddie turns to Steve with a searing look. "'Thank you for your service'?" He mocks.

Steve rolls his eyes. "It's an inside joke. You heard about those? You might've had one with her if you'd gotten there first."

"I did get there first!" Eddie says incredulously.

"And yet, I know more about her," Steve shoots back.

"Oh, and you know so much? What's her name then?" Steve opens his mouth smugly but then closes it a second later. His brow furrows. "You don't know!" Eddie laughs meanly.

"I was gonna ask but you interrupted!"

"Just in time too," Eddie sneers. "Stop you from moving in on my turf."

"She's not turf," Steve says pointedly, "she's a girl. And neither of us own her."

Eddie runs a hand down his face. "Yeah," he sighs. "You're right." He slumps in the stool you'd vacated. "And we still don't know her damn name."

They mourn together over their drinks.

;

Steve and Eddie pointedly not talk about you after, but you're on both of their minds. And then the universe delivers you to them again.

It's an early set on a Saturday—the band had been forced to move up slots because stupid Jeff had his grandmother's 90th birthday party that night. At least, that's what Eddie has been saying while complaining to Steve. Don't old people go to bed early? Why not have an afternoon party?

"I don't know!" Steve finally interrupts. He and Eddie are at the bar of the Hideout again, drinking beer after the set. Eddie grumbles. Both of them have been on edge since they haven't seen you in almost a month. Eddie's worried the vinyl he keeps carrying around is gonna get ruined the longer he has it. Steve's just worried you forgot about them.

They both take a sip at the same time and just about spew it all over the bar when you say from behind them, "Oh, no! Did I miss the set?"

The boys work to swallow and wipe their faces, turning to you. You're standing there, looking beautiful, ankle cast-less. They smile at the sight of you, but your expressions stays upset.

"Sorry, angel," Eddie says, trying not to let his grin go too wide. "We had to go early today."

"Fucker," you mutter, crossing your arms. Steve and Eddie are startled by the swear, but aren't not turned on by it. "How was it?" You ask.

"It was great," Steve answers. Eddie gives him a side-eye. "I got it all on tape. I could show you if you want." Ah.

Your smile makes an appearance. "Really? That'd be great."

"You wanna watch bad tape of my band? That's impressive."

"I don't think Steve can be that bad of a cameraman," you tease and the boys grin. "Plus, I'm a true fan. Can't forget about me when you make it big."

"That'd be impossible," Eddie replies cheekily. You blush. “But who should I be remembering?”

“Oh my gosh, I haven’t given you my name yet!” You wince and introduce yourself properly.

“Well, I’m Steve Harrington and this is Eddie Munson.”

“I knew that one,” you giggle.

"Speaking of making it big," Eddie continues. "I've got your vinyl."

"Yay! Oh, I'm so excited."

"Wanna come and get it?" Eddie asks, pointing to the stage.

"Sure." Eddie jumps off the stool, giving Steve a quick, triumphant glance. Steve narrows his eyes. "Steve, come with us," you urge and both boys look at you in surprise. "You can show me the tape."

Steve stands, shooting Eddie a shit-eating grin, who just rolls his eyes and turns around. He leads the three of you past the stage and into the back hallway. He opens the door to a room and graciously lets you walk in first, fighting with Steve for who goes in after you. They both stumble in as you turn to face them. They could swear they see a small smirk on your face, but then you ask eagerly, "Where is it?"

The boys separate and find their respective material for you. Eddie presents you with the record showily, and you take it reverently, running your fingers over the signed names. Eddie watches you like you're precious, and Steve breaks the moment by opening the camera's deck and taking out the tape. He hands it to you.

"You're letting me take it?" You ask, incredulous.

Steve shrugs. "You can bring it back. It's a long set, don't wanna keep you here."

"Thanks! But I did come here to dance..." You ponder. "Is the band playing tonight any good?"

Eddie scoffs but Steve replies, "Yeah, they're decent."

"Not as good as Corroded Coffin." You give Eddie a smile.

"Obviously," he says haughtily, but grins back.

"You guys wanna..." You toy with the words and the boys know how they feel. "...stay and dance with me? If it's not too much a betrayal of the band."

Eddie sees the teasing in your eyes and smirks. "Let's do it, princess."

"Steve?"

He senses the challenge. "I'm in."

"Great! Can I leave these here and come back for them?" You motion to the record and tape. Steve and Eddie both nod. You smile and set them on a chair before moving towards the door. You look over your shoulder at the boys, who have not moved. "You coming?"

They scramble after you.

This time, you lead them through the bar, weaving through people until you're firmly on the dance floor. The other band has started, and it's a slow, sexy vibe. You move your hips back and forth to the beat, letting your body find the right rhythm. Steve and Eddie just watch you, swaying in time but not doing much else. When you've found the groove, you turn to them.

Whatever they expected you to do, it's not what you actually do. You move towards them, staying in tempo, eventually standing in front of Eddie and flinging an arm around his neck. He's shocked, but regains his composure and puts his hands on the small of your back. Behind you two, Steve deflates and starts to back away, but then you look at him over your shoulder. You have a wicked look as you reach your free arm towards Steve and beckon him to you. He comes, magnetized, and you take his arm to wrap around your waist until his hand is resting on your stomach. You pull both him and Eddie closer until they're plastered to either side of you.

"See," you say lowly, "I know what you two have been doing. Trying to one-up each other, make the other look bad. See who I like more." You sigh and force their hips to move with yours. "Well, I like you both. And why should I have to choose? That'll just make one of you sad and that's no good." Steve gulps when your hand strokes up his arm and around his neck, digging your fingers in his hair. "Instead, how about I get double the happiness, and you can both have me." Eddie has goosebumps from how your breath is brushing across his skin.

He looks up at Steve, who looks at him. It's a fraught moment; they're unsure of what to do. But then you grind your hips in a circle, thrusting into both of them, and their eyes go wide. They nod at each other and then at you.

You laugh darkly, resting your head on Steve's shoulder. "Such good boys," you coo, and they're like putty in your hands. But your face turns to a pout. "But I'm tired of doing all the work. Why don't you two take over and make us all feel good?"

It takes a few seconds to sink in, but then the mood shifts as you wanted. Steve places both hands on your stomach and pulls you tighter against his body, grinding his hardening cock into your ass. Eddie follows and thrusts his crotch against your clothed cunt, hitting your clit so perfectly that you throw your head back. Steve takes the opportunity and leans down to kiss your neck lightly, lips just barely there, a tease that makes you want to whine. You don't have the chance as Eddie captures your mouth with his, licking inside forcefully. You're stuck between them, unable to move besides to the music, and you love it.

"Pretty girl wants to be a pillow princess, huh?" Steve whispers. He punctuates it with a nip to your earlobe and you shudder. You nod at his question. "Ah, ah, ah, baby. Gotta hear you beg for it."

"Yes," you breathe out. "Want you to take me."

Eddie chuckles, breath brushing over your swollen lips. "Oh, we will. We've been thinking about taking you since we each met you."

You moan. "More, wanna hear more."

"Well," Steve says as his hand slowly slides down your stomach and toys with the waistband of your jeans, "I thought about fucking you in the backseat of my car. Fogging up the windows, making it shake." His fingers dip inside your jeans and underwear and play with the hair down there. "I would take you home, but we would be just so desperate for it that we couldn't wait. We have to have each other as soon as possible." His middle finger goes far enough to part your lips and rubs through the wetness pooling. "That sound like a good fantasy, honey? Like something you’d want?"

You nod wildly, eyes fluttering as his finger makes passes but never stopping where you need him most.

"You wanna know what's been getting me off?" Eddie grabs your chin roughly, making you open your eyes and look at him. "Thinking about pulling you onstage during a set and fucking you in front of the crowd. Making you writhe and scream in pleasure, making you cum so many times you lose count. Marking you as mine before everybody, and showing them how I give it to you and how much you fucking love it." Your mouth has dropped open, and Eddie closes it. "How about that, angel? You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Oh my god," you groan. "Yes."

Eddie smirks. "Knew we had a slut on our hands, Harrington."

"Acted so innocent but just a fucking whore underneath," Steve adds. "Isn't that right, sweetheart?"

"Yes, wanna be your slut." Steve's finger is pressing harder and you push into it. "Please fuck me."

"We can do that, princess. We can do it nice and hard." Eddie kisses you again, swallowing your moan. When he breaks away, he looks at Steve. "Get some water. I'm gonna take her back."

You whimper at the loss of Steve's finger, and he kisses your temple. "Go with Eddie, baby. I'll be right there."

He unsticks himself from your back, forcing you to lean forward into Eddie, who catches and holds you up easily. "Breathe, angel. Get your footing back." You close your eyes and focus on your breaths, sucking air in and holding it to slow down your heartbeat. With time, you can stand on your own and take your weight off of Eddie. "You can walk?" He confirms and you nod. He takes your hand and leads you back to the room from before; your steps are firm and sure. He takes you to the couch and has you sit, which you do gently, in control.

Steve appears and closes and locks the door behind him. "Fantasies are great, but we don't want anyone walking in on us, do we?" He asks as he walks over and gives you the water. You shake your head as you drink it greedily. It clears your head. You give the mostly-empty glass back to Steve, who sets it on a nearby table. "Alright now?"

"Yeah," you reply.

"Still want this?" Eddie asks.

"Fuck yeah."

Both boys grin darkly. "Now, what should we do with her?" Steve ponders to Eddie. Your thighs clench together at the third person tense. "Should we make her suck us both off?"

"Maybe we should take her from behind?" Eddie joins in.

"We could edge her until she screams for release."

"Or spank and punish her for being such a whore?"

With every new idea, you sink further into the couch, dripping with arousal. You wouldn't be surprised if it's on the cushion by now.

"I think one of us could fuck her while she sucks the other off."

"Maybe we'll have her take us both at the same time."

"Should we cum inside her or soak her with it?"

You finally whine. Steve and Eddie look at you with smirks and raised brows. "Please."

"What sounded good to you, baby?"

"Any of it, all of it. Just please fucking touch me."

Steve crowds in close, looming over you. "You wanna be touched, sweetheart? Gotta tell us where."

Instead, you crash your lips onto his. He'd been talking but you hadn't heard a word, too focused on his soft, delectable-looking mouth to listen. He growls and holds your head in his hands, tongue diving in and taking control. You give it back just as hard and tangle your fingers in his hair, loving the silkiness on your skin. Eventually you both need air and Steve nips your bottom lip before leaning back. "Not exactly what I asked," he says, both of you panting hard.

"You weren't complaining," Eddie points out smugly.

"Why would I?" Steve runs a thumb across your lips and you try to catch it between your teeth. "Pretty mouth is like a drug."

"Hear that, princess? Sounds like you got us addicted." Eddie sits on the couch next to you. You give him bedroom eyes and he chuckles meanly.

Steve rubs his hands up your thighs a few times, getting closer to your cunt each time but never quite making it there. "Still want us to touch you, baby?" You nod pathetically. "Let's get you out of these clothes then."

And then Eddie is lifting your shirt and Steve is unbuttoning your jeans. They both pull the pieces off and toss them into the room. You feel a little vulnerable as their eyes rove over you, but it's all lust and desire in their gazes. Without saying anything, they go for your undergarments. Eddie surprises you by popping open your bra with just two fingers, and he gives you a cocky smirk when you glance at him. He pulls it off as Steve hooks his index fingers in your underwear's waistband and starts to tug. He takes them off slowly, looking almost reverent as your soaked pussy is revealed.

"So pretty, angel," Eddie murmurs as he brushes fingertips across your hard nipples, making your skin goosebump. Steve can only nod in agreement when he finally gets your underwear untangled from your feet and drops it next to him. "Whose cock do you want first?"

All you can do is shrug under their stares.

He eyes Steve, who smiles benevolently. "How about Eddie here fucks you dumb first, and then I'll give you the big finale."

You nod enthusiastically, making them both snicker. "Seems like she's already gone dumb," Eddie teases.

You pout. "I don't think so."

They raise their eyebrows. "Full sentences, look at you go," Steve mocks. "Let's see if we can change that." He steps back as Eddie leans over you to grab your hips tightly. He then swings you onto his lap, clothed cock settling against your clit so perfectly that you whine. He cuts it off by kissing you and you reciprocate eagerly. You tug at the bottom of his shirt and he parts only to pull it over his head and throw it away, lips reclaiming yours immediately after. Your hands roam the newly revealed skin, hungrily grinding against his crotch.

"Can you kneel for me, baby?" Eddie asks breathlessly and you nod, sitting up on your knees. He quickly unbuttons and unzips his jeans, pushing them down with his boxers and kicking them away. His large cock slaps against his stomach once freed and you moan at the sight. He takes a hand and starts stroking it and you gape at the pre-cum he uses to lubricate it. "You ready for me?" There's a thread of concern in his voice.

But you nod frantically, so he holds it straight and you line it up. You throw your head back as his cock pushes inside. Eddie clutches your hips, making your pace slow and stopping with every inch to let you adjust. The stretch is a little painful but a lot delicious, and you both groan when he bottoms out.

You feel the couch dip next to you and lazily turn your head to see Steve sitting in your previous spot, naked as well and stroking his own cock slowly. It's a beautiful sight. "Feel good, honey?" He asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Fuck yes," you breathe out, voice raising to a yell when Eddie lifts you up and pulls you back down sharply. He goes deeper this time, splitting you further, and it feels amazing. "Oh my god." Each word is punctuated by a thrust, Eddie starting a hard and fast rhythm.

"Knew you'd feel so fucking amazing, angel," Eddie pants out, fingers digging into your waist hard enough to leave bruises and your eyes roll up at the thought. "God, you look so good riding me."

"Love your cock," you moan. "Feels so good."

"Can't wait to make all our fantasies come true." Eddie continues to destroy you in so many ways. "Gonna fuck you every which way and then some."

You whimper. "Yes, please."

Your cunt is clenching and you're going slack in Eddie's grip. Steve can tell. "You gonna cum, sweetheart? Gonna cum all over Eddie's nice, hard cock while he's fucking you so well?"

"Yes," you hiss as Eddie speeds up your movements. "Wanna cum."

"Come on, baby," Eddie pleads. "Let go on my cock."

It only takes a few more thrusts before you're doing as you're told, keening at the devastating orgasm hitting you. Eddie practically holds you up as you buck against him, cunt pulsing around his cock and making him groan. "Fuck, your tight pussy is gonna make me cum, angel."

You tighten around his cock even more, enhancing your pleasure, and his head hits the back of the couch hard. "Cum for me," you beg breathlessly. "Want it."

"God, yes. Where do you want it?"

"Inside," you pant.

"Shit," Eddie swears. "I can do that." After a couple more thrusts he's spilling into you, and you groan lowly at the feeling of his cum in you. He slows down your hips to a stop and then gently lifts you off his cock, kissing you to distract from the discomfort. He keeps kissing you sweetly, mouths moving against each other in slow, caressing brushes, coming down from your respective highs.

"That was fucking hot," Steve says softly, and you look over at him to see him gripping his cock tightly. You zero in on it and clench around nothing. Steve notices and strokes it gaudily, making your mouth water at the pre-cum beading out at the tip. His voice turns cocky. "You not satisfied, beautiful? Need another hard dick to satiate that hunger?"

You nod and crawl from Eddie towards him. When you're close enough, Steve leans forward and kisses you, turning it sharp and raw, teeth biting into your lips lightly. "Turn around for me, baby. Lay in front of me." You do as asked and lay across the cushions, facing into the room. Laying your head on the armrest, you feel Steve shift until he's flush against your back. He grips your thigh and lifts your leg, and then your eyes are fluttering at the feeling of his cock rubbing against your pussy.

Without warning, he pushes inside slowly. Where Eddie was wide and girthy, splitting you open like nothing else, Steve is long and lean, and the position lets him hit so deep in you that you moan loudly when he bottoms out.

"You weren't lying, man," Steve groans. "This pussy is better than I ever imagined."

Your moan becomes a wail as he speeds up, hitting so deep, so hard that you see stars. He hooks your leg over the top of the couch and moves his hand from your thigh. You're almost missing his touch when his arm snakes around around your waist and he squeezes your tit tightly. Your jaw drops as he harshly twists your nipple; coupled with his cock, you're falling apart.

"You can't even imagine all the dirty things I wanna do to you and this fucking delicious cunt," Steve whispers, breath across your hot skin making you shudder. "I wanna invent new positions with you two."

"God, please," you keen. "Wanna be your fucktoy."

Steve moans. "Fuck, baby. Gonna make you my little cumslut. Gonna take pictures of you all fucked out. You're such a gorgeous sight when you're being fucked, sweetheart."

You whine, volume increasing whenever Steve's cock thrusts all the way in. Eddie's voice comes floating to you. "Can you touch yourself for me, pretty girl? Wanna see you fall apart."

Your hand automatically goes too your cunt and two fingers start rubbing tiny, fast circles on your clit. It feels so fucking good that you arch back into Steve, who sucks marks onto your neck. "I'm gonna cum!" You gasp, feeling the wave traveling towards you fast.

"Cum for me, honey," Steve demands. "Gotta feel you cum on my cock."

You wail as your orgasm crashes over you, making your body tense and jerk in Steve's grasp. His cock still hitting inside you extends the pleasure, making you throb with continuous waves. As you tighten around him, Steve cums as well, biting your skin sharply as he paints inside you, soothing with his tongue while slowing down his thrusts. You groan at the sting, one last burst of bliss before you're coming down from the high.

You two pant together, and then Steve is lightly pulling out of you, kissing your temple to subdue the feeling. Then Eddie is in front of you, gently wiping your pussy with a towel. You eye him.

"It's clean, I promise," he reassures with a chuckle. Satisfied, you let him continue, regaining your strength. When you find it, you slowly sit up, stretching your limbs and leaning forward so Steve can get out from behind you. Eddie tosses him the towel, and he cleans himself off too. You sink back into the couch and the boys mirror you on either side.

"Can we see you again?" Eddie asks hopefully.

You snort. "You better. You made a lot of promises you gotta keep."

"Well, we wanna keep those, obviously," Steve says. "But can we also take you on a date?"

"Oh!" You're surprised, and Steve and Eddie smile. "I wasn't sure if you wanted to, but I'm definitely down."

"We liked you before we thought about fucking you," Eddie teases.

Steve nods in agreement. "It was your cute dancing that caught both our eyes."

You groan.

"We loved it!" Eddie protests. You give him a look. "Cross our hearts."

They both go to actually do so, but you grab their hands instead, holding them on your lap. "Guess I'm a better dancer than I thought."

Your boys laugh.

[avocado-writing]

Heyy I recently found your account and love love love your writing. I would absolutely die if you wrote anymore Jim or Gabriel fics. Would love something like fluffy or domestic between Jim/Gabriel and reader or aziracrow finding out that reader is in a relationship with Jim. No worries if you’re busy though 💕

notes: a sequel to this! a plot? in my drabble? it’s more likely than you think.

pairing: jim x reader

rating: T

“I brought you flowers.”

He has. He brandishes a huge bouquet at you, chock full of sunflowers. You take them with a smile. 

“Thank you, Jim. They’re lovely.”

“Mr Fell said I should bring roses, but I liked these ones more, because they’re happy like you are.”

“Oh, Jim,” you say, softly, genuinely taken aback with the kindness of it. You’ve never had someone who’s brought you flowers because they reminded them of you. “That’s so kind. Let me put these in some water and I’ll be right with you.”

Jim waits patiently at your door as you scurry back inside. From across the street, Aziraphale holds up a newspaper to hide his face. He’s cut eyeholes in it, and thinks he’s being very clever. Crowley cringes. 

“Angel, at some point, you’re going to have to accept that they’re going to be fine. They’ve had plenty of dates at this point and nothing untowards has happened to either of them.”

“I know, I know. I just want to make sure. You know that I worry.”

Crowley sighs. As you and Jim head off, he and Aziraphale follow at a decent pace behind. Neither of you have noticed that you have hangers-on. You and Jim are quite in your own world. He’s asked you about your day and you’re telling him, he’s hanging on every word without interruption. You walk at a lazy pace and, as you go, your fingers tangle together and you end up holding hands. Aziraphale sees the way he looks at you: as if you hung the stars.

You like walking, and Jim likes being where you are, so you’re taking a turn around the park. Jim’s brought a small sandwich bag full of frozen peas so you can both feed the ducks. He found it fascinating when you told him why bread wasn’t the best option for them, and for the following week spread that fact with anyone who would listen.

Jim’s… a little strange, but honestly, he’s one of the best people you’ve dated. He’s kind, attentive, and happy to take things slow. After the rapid-fire world of app-based romance and online matchups, it’s nice to have someone who just wants to take a stroll with you.

Aziraphale notes with pride that Jim stops to buy you an ice cream from the cart. You grin and thank him and, even though he can’t hear your conversation from here, he’s reasonably happy that Crowley’s right, and the two of you will do perfectly well on your own. He doesn’t want to tell Crowley that, though, or he’ll make him do the dance; for now he’ll just keep observing.

The two of you sit down on a park bench by the pond and eat your ice cream. At one point you get him to hold yours while you get your iPod out of your pocket and offer him one of the earbuds, and the two of you listen to some song and chat in animated detail about it. The ducks are fed, the ice creams are finished, and you lean your head on Jim’s shoulder.

“I’m so glad I get to spend time with you, Jim,” you tell him, softly, taking his large hand in both of yours. “You make me feel like the only person in the world while we’re together.”

“Is that a good thing?”

You laugh, not unkindly.

“Yes, Jim, it’s good.”

“Then I’m glad. I like spending time with you too. I’d do it all the time if I could. You make me feel…warm.”

You look up at him, at his sincere smile, his kind eyes that crinkle a little.

“Jim, can I kiss you?”

“Oh. Yeah, of course.”

Aziraphale and Crowley have explained the basics of kissing to Jim, knowing this would likely be coming. It’s where humans put their lips together and move them around a bit. Jim hasn’t quite seen the appeal, but when you reach up and press your mouth to his, his whole cosmos changes.

Above you, the bulb in the dormant streetlamp pops, and a burst of sonic energy shoots out from between you with such force that it startles all the poor ducks. They take off flying. 

He understands. He understands why people like doing this. He takes your face in his hands and deepens the kiss, stealing your breath away from the passion of it. You taste like vanilla and strawberry sauce. 

Gabriel pulls back and looks at you with violet eyes. And for a second, he remembers.

“Look at you,” he whispers, deep and longing, swiping a thumb across your lower lip, “you’re gorgeous.”

You furrow your brow.

“Jim?” you ask, perplexed at the change of attitude. 

He shuts his eyes, and when they open again, they’re the colour they usually are. You figure it must have been a trick of the light. He blinks a couple of times, clearing his mind from whatever fog just took it over, and smiles at you.

“That was nice!” he says, in the cheerful way you’ve become accustomed to.

“Are… are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m great!” he laughs, and there’s no trace that he even realises what just happened.

Across the way, Aziraphale and Crowley stare, having witnessed the whole thing.

“That’s not good,” Crowley mutters. Aziraphale purses his lips.

-

Taglist: @nix-rose

[omahasnakes]

1996: It gets Better. Or in some cases, retroactively worse.

I really honestly referred to 1996’s chart as a “palate cleanser”! Not “an absolute emotional minefield”? Not “you’re going to be crying in your car while listening to ‘Name’ by The Goo Goo Dolls”?!

I was excited when I wrote up to 2022 chart to report that fully 10% of the top 100 that year were Spanish-language tracks. But even back in 1996, we had two songs on the chart in Spanish: #98, the cringe classic “Macarena” by Los del Rio, and the number ONE song of the year, *squints at notes*: “Macarena- Bayside Boys Remix”.

My grasping claim at authenticity is that I first heard this song in Mexico City at a discotheque. I was the girl they pulled up onto a chair to demonstrate learning the basic dance movements- I assume it’s standard to choose the ugliest duckling for this honor? Later, when I was getting hit on less than my friends, someone offered me the condolence that it was just because I’m not blonde. They were right to offer up this worldly advice!

I count it among the saddest realizations of my adult life that when Darius Rucker says that the dolphins made him cry, he meant the football team. I had instantly conjured an adorable vignette where Darius goes to Sea World and the dolphins don’t scare him, exactly, but he is very startled when one comes out of the tank to nuzzle him. There are tears. A close second is the realization that Quad City DJs do not in fact rep the quad cities of Davenport, Bettendorf, Rock Island, and Moline.

Song of the Year: Is it reasonable to say anything other than Macarena? “You Oughta Know” by Alanis Morissette is on the chart, but I think it’s more correct to talk about it in the context of 1995. Still, it’s an all-timer. And Flea performed the bassline- listen to it now with that on your mind!

“California Love” by 2Pac, Roger, and Dr. Dre could be that Song of the Year candidate. This isn’t a 1996 memory by any means, but in 2014 I moved to Orange County, California from Maryland. I moved for my spouse’s job, and I moved not only without having my own job lined up, but completely sight-unseen. No one, myself included, had even considered that I should see the place I was moving to. Shortly after moving, my friends Nadia and Nathan visited, and I remember riding around LA in their rental car when this song came on. This was maybe the first moment after my move when I thought, yeah, this might be ok.

Song that may have actually aged well: “Missing” by Everything but the Girl

Forgotten Gems: “1-2-3-4 (Sumpin’ New)” by Coolio and “Woo Hah!! Got You All in Check” by Busta Rhymes. I wasn’t actually that aware of hip hop music in 1996. I was no longer listening to the Top 40 station (KQKQ Sweet 98 in Omaha) but instead was listening to whichever current iteration of the “alternative” station. We thought we were cool, but it turns out “alternative” was just exclusionary.

Similarly, the “Waiting to Exhale” soundtrack mostly left no trace in my mind, but I can also blame that on not being in the right age demographic. It’s all over the 1996 chart, though, and rightly so.

“Give Me One Reason” by Tracy Chapman and “Hook” by Blues Traveler: both of these songs bring back specific memories of trying to relate to my mother by offering her a current popular song that I thought she could find acceptable. She didn’t take the bait either time.

“Gangsta’s Paradise” by Coolio and L.V. The first R-rated movie I saw in the theater was “Dangerous Minds.” I lied and said that I saw “To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything! Julie Newmar” which somehow was more acceptable than a film about the power of teaching! I’m sure I was shifty about my lie, which was chalked up to premarital sex, but it’s definitely on brand in retrospect.

I’m including the video for “Ironic” by Alanis Morisette as a favorite iconic video from the 1996 chart, but it’s also a trap I’ve set to see if anyone will jump into the comments without reading the whole essay to push their glasses up and offer their opinion on which lyrics of the song do or do not embody the concept of irony.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jne9t8sHpUc

Anyway, here’s Wonderwall.

[daphwritesworld]

Okay your song of the day. It’s a Driver Era one lmao. I wasn’t sure if to send one of their more recent singles they’ve been releasing for the upcoming album or to send a oldie. I struggle for choice because like I said ages ago, out of all like 45 songs they have there’s only three I don’t like🫡 But I’ll go with this one because one of my friends always says this song “makes her want to crash her car” and that’s always fun so lmao. Think this one will have you bobbing your head like a chicken and have you stanky facing.

https://open.spotify.com/track/0POOOfkVbM8suYFRWUkDQQ?si=ajXiIqhKTRiaDmGITdmp4Q

okay first i wanna respond to other gate kept one you sent me bc HOLY FUCK. was i raised religious ?? i have SEVERE religious trauma lmao 🤣 i live in the bible belt…which idk if you know what that is but basically it’s a section of America where christianity basically rules everyday life. we have a JESUS HALLWAY in my house. anyways safe to say that song had me face down in my pillow scream crying. i’m definitely gonna check out more of her music!! :D religious trauma songs will always make me boohoo. anyways here is my fave religious trauma song.

Broken Crown— Mumford & Sons

this is the same band i sent you that has White Blank Page. marcus mumford has talked about how wants distant the band from being labeled a “christian band” since he’s been trying to deconstruct from it, and i feel like you can tell the “religious guilt” was weighing on him. i know it’s about premarital sex lmao but i always saw it as being gay. the guilt and shame felt of wanting to be with someone in that way, and then having to keep it a secret out of fear. the feeling of laying in bed at night and feeling like your skins gonna rot off because you just had sex with a girl. idk this songs just always had a special place in my heart. so here you go lol.

now back to the regularly scheduled program !!

You Keep Me Up At Night— The Drivers Era

OH THIS IS SO MOTHER FUCKIN GROOVY!! see now i need to get drunk and dance to this song because i know it would heal me a little bit. holy fuck idk why but when the “This far, but here we are — Yeah I lied, I lied, I lied” part comes on jt tickles my brain JUST RIGHT. LIKE OHHHH THAT SOUNDS NIOOOOCE🤭 yeah your friend is right…this is the type of song you can’t play in the car or it will be swerving 🤣

I got you, you got me— The Driver Era

i’ve actually been listening to some of their songs on my own since you introduced me to them :D so even tho you definitely already know this song— im still gonna recommend it bc i’ve been listening to it lol. you can tell rate my choice haha

[foxbinnstuff]

here we go again💥💥💥p p p part 2 to the kaisai/saikai playlist!!

part one over here teehee

song lyrics

my opinion based ratings

other stuff I refrence

Kaido and Saiki deal with a lot on a daily basis so I just think that this song kinda fits them. Its really cute too, like its such timid yet soft and sweet love

“if you want you can stay with me in my bed, if you want to, only if you want to”

I do think this is more of a Kaido song for them, like he’s a nervous little guy and only gets more nervous when he even thinks about romance.

this song is when Kaido finds out about his crush on Saiki to me. Its like Kaido oh so timidly asking for help from Saiki cuz he wants to get closer to him blegh

“this is so them” factor in lyrics: 7

“this is so them” factor in vibe/atmosphere: 6

this song is seriously so sweet and dramatic. It feels like a Kaido song for his chuunibyou/8th grade syndrome. I think he’d be soo dramatic once he got over the thought of actually having a crush on someone and he’d be oh so passionate like I can imagine Kaido thinking the line “you’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be” in that painfully longing way, like thinking about it from the Jet black wings point of veiw, and how he’s not necessarily good, but trying his absolute best to be, but whoever he’s crushing on (Saiki in this case) brings out the good in him and feels like an absolutely good person, right down to the soul, like he will never be.

But out of those fantasies, I think he’s partly so goddamn down bad, that he creates delusions just to think such dramatic things about Saiki. To be honest, you could 100% see this song as just Kaidou x basically anyone, this just feels like how he silently yearns and loves.

But, this could also be a Saiki song to me, cuz oh my god, he’s the one who actually has powers and he’s literally only ever blamed himself for everything, so some of these lines fit quite well with his selflessness, the desire to be seen as his true self, and the feeling of being more than human, but knowing deep down that he is a human like everyone else. I’m gonna barf omg

“cuz I know that you feel me somehow”

idk why but this line is like really them to me.

“and I don’t want the world to see me, cuz I don’t think that they’d understand.”

“when everythings meant to be broken, I just want you to know who I am.”

“yeah, you bleed just to know you’re alive”

IM GONNA BARFF DOES ANYONE HEAR MEE

“this is so them” factor in lyrics: 8

“this is so them” factor in vibe/atmosphere: 5

this song is soo sweet I just imagine them dancing together in a crowded room, Kaido’s thoughts taking most of Saiki’s mind, from just how big they always seem to be, so its practically just them

this is both of them tbh.

“I know its hard to tell, but I think I really like you” BOTH OF THEM TO EACH OTHER AGH

“cuz if we dance then, you don’t have to speak” mostly Kaido to Saiki, but also imagine this as Saiki to Kaido like they understand each other does that make sense? Staring with my big huge eyes while shaking

“this is so them” factor in lyrics: 9

“this is so them” factor in vibe/atmosphere: 9

Kaido to Saiki as Saiki opens up more BLEHGHH

“living in the background, wondering what you meant”

“some things leave me confused, but especially you”

HE’S JUST A NERVOUS BOY TRYING TO UNDERSTAND THE CONFUSING FEELINGS FOR HIS BESTFRIEND!!!!!

This song is soo Kaido to me

“this is so them” factor in lyrics: 5

“this is so them” factor in vibe/atmosphere: 6

this is more of a Saiki to Kaido song to me in some bits urm

I just think about Saiki being maybe a little silently jealous when he and Kuboyasu get so close to each other, like I can’t exactly explain it, but I just think about Saiki seeing Kuboyasu playing into Kaidos fantasies and seeing how much fun they’re having and just regretting ever having powers, cuz he wants to play into Kaido’s dumb little fantasies and be that dumb kid every once in a while, I just know it deep in my heart.

“theres something on my mind, theres something that I wish I would of told you but you just don’t seem to wonder what I’m doing when you’re close to me.”

“theres something on my chest I wish I would of said. I think it over and it might be true, I’m only overthinking when I’m close to you”

I ccould be crazy for this one, but I also might just really like Saiki pining and yearning without really knowing wtf is happening to him.

“this is so them” factor in lyrics: 5

“this is so them” factor in vibe/atmosphere: 8

THIS ONE IS SOO SPECIAL TO ME UUGH

“always been too scared and unprepared to let anybody get too close to me”

to me this is them being antisocial and pushing away a lot of people for one reason or another, until they met each other. Something something Kaido was the first person Saiki called a friend in the series something something. I just think about how they first met in the manga, how Kaido was so set on solving the disappearing trickster problem just to TALK to Saiki like oh my fucking god I can’t BLEEHHHH

“right away I knew, you would never ever, ever hurt me” does anyone get how much this lyric means to me and how fucking them it is?!

“and you hold my hand and you understand” uuuugh I can barely explain myself just think about it.

“you’re all I ever dreamed of, and you love me” collapses on the floor KAIDO TO SAIKI KAIDO TO SAIKI

“this is so them” factor in lyrics: 8

“this is so them” factor in vibe/atmosphere: 10

this just pretty much has the vibe of them tbh hehe they are just soo nervous for each other I think. mostly a Kaidou to Saiki song.

“this is so them” factor in lyrics: 5

“this is so them” factor in vibe/atmosphere: 7

honorary shout outs in the playlist 💥💥

(you) on my arm- Leith ross

AAAA I LOVE LEITH ROSS!!!

Talk too much- COIN

Electric Love- BØRNS

ookay thats all byebyeee hope you enjoyed my insane ideas and thoughts I can barley put into words AAAAA IM INCRAZY

[nonbigalmari]

[The following transcript was written by me (Mari Diaz) of a dream I had on Wednesday, March 20th at 12:10 AM and is written in third person.]

[Mari opens their eyes to a stage. The seats nearby are empty, and the rest of the room is dark. There is a spotlight shining in the center, illuminating a familiar smug looking man. He waves at Mari, and a second spotlight turns on, illuminating Mari.]

Ma: Hey E, been a while since you popped into a dream of mine huh?

??: Mhm. I was busy recovering from the last one. I’m sure you understand.

Ma: Yeah, how are your ribs by the way? haven't had a chance to ask because of work.

??: Oh, they’re… better. They’re healed enough for this, so I think they’re alright.

Ma: That's good…

[Mari sighs, seemingly tired. Before looking around.]

Ma: Uh… Wait, why are we in a theater?

??: Do you have an issue with that?

Ma: No I'm just… Confused.

??: It’s a good setting, especially for tonight.

Ma: Hm… Fair.

??: Come over here, shouting across the stage isn’t efficient.

[Mari begins walking over to Edgar, hands in their pocket humming a song.]

??: I’m surprised you haven’t asked why I’m here tonight.

Ma: Oh, I just assumed you wanted to teach me how to dance or something I don't know. Or tell me about that rabbit guy.

??: Close! Duck!

[E’s fist shoots out towards Mari as soon as he finishes his sentence. Mari tries to squat down to dodge, instead falling backwards and hitting the back of their head on the stage.]

Ma: Ow…

??: That works, I guess.

[E chuckles, and a staticky laugh track plays over unseen speakers alongside him.]

Ma: Wh- What the fuck dude? Where did those laughs come from?

??: [As he rolls up his sleeves.] Don’t even worry about it. Do you get why I’m here now?

Ma: Yep… We fighting?

??: We made a deal, didn’t we?

Ma: Yeah… Christ…

[Mari gets up, trying to dust off their pants.]

??: Okay, first things first. Punch me.

Ma: Wait. Are you sure?

??: Go for it.

[Mari takes a deep breath, and throws a punch at Edgar. Notably their thumb is tucked into their punch. It hits, but E looks… mostly unbothered. He stares at Mari’s hand with concern. Mari grabs at their hand, seemingly having at least somewhat hurt their thumb.]

??: Have you seriously been doing that…?

Ma: Yeah! Is that… Not how you throw a punch?

??: Absolutely not. You’re going to hurt yourself more than your opponent at this rate. Untuck your thumb, and try again.

[After a few seconds, Mari balls their hand into a fist again. This time the thumb is on the outside, they throw another punch. It collides again, And E’s eyebrows raise, he glances at Mari with an expression of approval on his face.]

??: If you put a little more power behind your swings, you’d probably be able to pack a little bit of a stronger hit.

Ma: Any tips on how to do that?

??: I’d say… let there be a bit more momentum behind your swings, don’t be afraid to give it your all. I’m literally giving you permission to punch me.

[Mari takes a deep breath, brings their arm back, and throws another punch at E. When this one hits, he lets out a small “oof” and seems to flinch. He gives Mari a thumbs up.]

Ma: Are you ok?

??: [Smiling.] Never better. Now that we’ve got the basics down, wanna test it a bit?

Ma: Sure.

[E vanishes, the spotlight moves quickly behind Mari.]

Ma: What?

??: Think fast.

[Mari whirls around to see E’s fist flying right at them. Again. They try to dodge, only to be hit and fall backwards onto their back… again. E looks down at them, unimpressed.]

??: Your reaction time could use some work.

Ma: [Grabbing their cheek.] Probably… Ow. For a dead guy you hit hard as hell.

??: I used to get into a lot of fights, it’s not surprising.

Ma: Did your friends also get into fights or like… help you in fights. Or was jumping people not a thing in the 80s?

??: I tried to keep the people I cared about out of it. And… it was definitely a thing in the 80s.

Ma: Damn…

[Mari gets back up again.]

??: Well?

Ma: Trying to think which dead person I've been hit by hits harder… I think you hit me a bit harder than H did.

??: Not what I was waiting for, Mari.

Ma: What? Then what's up?

??: Retaliate. I just punched you in the face. I’m waiting for you to hit back.

[Mari takes a second, popping backwards as if realizing what E means before charging up and throwing another punch. E reels backward after Mari’s fist lands a hit in the direct center of his face. He stumbles backwards, before it’s finally his turn to fall over. He looks at Mari, grinning.]

??: There we go.

Ma: I… Holy shit… I knocked you down… Can I celebrate real quick?

??: [As he stands.] Go ahead, you won’t get this chance again.

[Mari hops, sticking their arms up smiling.]

Ma: YIPPEE! Wait. What do you mean by that?

??: The real thing is starting in a bit, I don’t stop for victory dances, not usually.

Ma: Oh… Well in my defense I didn't think I'd get this far.

??: Take whatever time you need, I’ll let you get the first real hit.

Ma: Ok, really I just need to take off my hoodie.

[Mari removes the black hoodie, revealing a red shirt with a fazbear entertainment logo. Seemingly a shirt from work.]

Ma: Oh… Shit.

??: Man, did you wear that to bed? Don’t you need to wear it tomorrow?

Ma: No I don't think so? Most of the other beta testers just wear clothes from home I think. They kinda just gave us these for joining the beta testing team… But it was also the only shirt I have to sleep in.

??: Eh, yeah. It’s better than this old thing, that’s for sure.

[E glances down at his dress shirt, frowning. It’s become untucked slightly. And he goes to tuck it back in. For a few moments, stitching is visible.]

Ma: Uhhhhh what's up with the stitches man?

[He glances up at Mari, eyes slightly wider than before.]

??: Um. I… like to keep my body in one piece. It’s better this way.

Ma: Wait what?

??: You… oh, right. You don’t know how I…

Ma: I know a night guard… You. got bit in the head. That's it. The people in town and the uh… Theorists. Call it “The bite of 87” or some shit.

??: Wow, they’re seriously leaving out… eh, it doesn’t surprise me, actually.

Ma: Yeah it's… Fucking crazy the shit people have come up with on the internet.

??: You’ll have to show me later. Anyway! Uh… hm.

Ma: Yeahhhh?

??: Sorry… hold on. The threads loose again.

[Mari's eyes go wide, seemingly worried.]

Ma: Shit, do you… Need help?

??: Nope, done this plenty of times. Just give me a moment.

[E turns around, holding his right hand out, something shiny appears in his hand, along with some red thread. He walks off to the side and sets to work, unraveling some of the stitching already on his waist.]

Ma: You sure that's ok?

??: Yeah? Why the hell would it not?

Ma: I dunno, just never seen a guy unraveling himself.

??: Mhm, not exactly an everyday occurrence, I know. I’m usually able to focus more on keeping myself together, but… sometimes I’ve gotta rely on this shit. Weird, I know.

Ma: Dude, at this point I'm so used to weird shit I almost expect it… I guess I have you and Will to thank for that… I dunno.

??: Yep. You’re welcome.

Ma: Just uh… Let me know when you're done. I'm not gonna throw a punch until I know you're ready.

??: Got it. You’re the most considerate person I’ve ever thrown a punch at.

Ma: Who else have you thrown punches at?

??: Jason, Quinten, Leon, a few times… Mike, once, when he startled me. A few of Jason’s other friends, Foxy, one time I almost punched Zach’s mom… sorry, these are all people you don’t know.

Ma: I was about to say, I literally only know Jason from that nightmare.

??: I’ve fought him more times than I can count. He was a persistent son of a bitch, I’ll give him that.

Ma: Was? Well wait… Yeah. I guess it would be past tense, can't be very persistent towards fighting you if you're dead.

??: … Yeah. Ha.

Ma: So uhhhhh… I also meant to ask, what did you want me to do with the moss and cigarette H gave you?

??: I’ll figure something out.

Ma: Fair. I guess.

[E glances downwards, realizing that he at some point stopped removing the thread. His legs are fully separated from his body. And they start to walk off.]

??: [Quickly, and very annoyed.] Fuckin’…

Ma: Did… Did your legs just walk off?

[Mari’s jaw has dropped, they look confused.]

??: Yes. This fucking happens sometimes. Lemme just…

[As E moves to grab his own legs (???), the organs that are stored in the upper half of his body hang down, dripping blood onto the stage.]

Ma: Wh… I… Huh?

??: This. [He gestures downwards.] is the part they fucking left out.

[The legs have barely made it a foot before E catches up, grabbing them by the semi-exposed hip bone and dragging them towards him. He realigns the two halves and pulls out the new thread and a needle.]

Ma: Do your legs have like… A mind of their own or?

??: Somewhat. Only if they’re detached. It’s mostly just instinctual movement.

Ma: Ah. Makes… Some form of sense.

??: Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I’ll be ready to fight once I’m sewn up. It’ll just be a bit.

Ma: Alright.

[As E meticulously sews his legs back on, the lights pointed at the stage swivel around, seemingly at random. But… the pattern seems almost… familiar. It becomes increasingly obvious that the lights are meant to be following a dance of sorts.]

Ma: Uh… What's up with the lights man?

[As soon as it’s pointed out, E’s head snaps upwards, looking directly at Mari. His eyes dart over to the lights. They abruptly stop and return to their original position.]

??: [Through a clenched jaw.] God damn it, still on that fucking tango, huh.

Ma: Hm… That tango thing was… Weird… You’re a good dancer though.

??: Mm. Thanks. Means a lot more when it’s not coming from a bitch like… ugh. I don’t even want to fucking say his name.

Ma: Fair honestly…

[E continues sewing, looking a bit more tense than before.]

Ma: It uh… Hm… You’re good at sewing… The couch repair looks nice. Better than anything I could've done.

??: Yeah, I’ve… got experience. Thanks.

Ma: Hm… I'm out of small talk ideas.

??: I’m surprised you didn’t bring up any of the names from my list.

Ma: I didn't know if you would be ok with that.

??: I wouldn’t, I’m just surprised. Well… one name is a bit different. But I’m almost done, so…

Ma: Hm… Alright.

[E sighs, tying a knot in the thread, and taking a few cautious steps. He smiles, and looks back up at Mari.]

??: Sorry for all the interruptions. Let’s do this.

Ma: Yep. I throw the first punch right?

??: Mhm. Give it all you’ve got, I’m not holding back this time, either.

Ma: Cool.

[Mari takes a deep breath, runs at E. And swings their fist towards him, this time, he doesn’t just stand there and take it, his hand moves up and catches their fist before it makes contact.]

??: Pretty predictable there, Mari.

[He twists their arm around and pushes them away, winding up for a hit of his own with his left hand, switching to his right at the last second.]

Ma: [Fast.] What the fuc-

[Mari attempts to catch the punch, but they fall miserably and get hit anyway. This time managing to barely keep their balance.]

??: Make sure you know your opponent, Mari. I don’t fight fair.

Ma: Is there anyone in this world that fights fair anymore?

??: Probably, who knows?

[E pulls his fist back for another hit, this time Mari attempts to dodge before he even throws the punch, ducking down. E swiftly sticks his leg out, kicking theirs out from under them.]

[Mari gets up, not saying a word but looking a small bit upset.]

[E puts his arms into a ready position, looking as if he’s about to do the same thing he’s been doing, but instead his left leg shoots up, hitting Mari in the jaw. His leg is basically a straight line from the ground.]

[Mari coughs, before slowly getting up. Holding their jaw.]

Ma: [Slightly muffled.] What the fuck dude? A fucking kick?

??: What, too advanced?

Ma: I just didn't think we were doing that here…

[Mari, again attempts to hit E in the head. Only this time they drop their arm and hit E in the side. Notably above where the stitches are, he stumbles to the side, holding an arm to where Mari hit, one eye is squeezed closed.]

??: Gh– nice one, Mari.

Ma: Thanks.

[Mari brings their arm back again, this time throwing a punch to the jaw. The blow causes him to fall down, one hand goes to his jaw and a few clicks are heard. He goes to stand.]

Ma: [Slightly out of breath.] You ok?

??: Y– yeah. M’fine.

Ma: You sure? You're holding your jaw and side like someone who ain't fine.

[E shakily stands up straight, looking Mari in the eyes.]

??: You’re pretty good, Mari. I’ll give ya that.

Ma: So are you, if this wasn't a dream I'd be worried you kicked one of my damn teeth out.

??: A tie, then?

Ma: Wait… You’re stopping the fight?

??: Mhm.

Ma: Oh- Ok…

[Mari turns around, seemingly trusting that E stopped the fight as they begin looking around.]

[E’s arm abruptly wraps around Mari’s neck, E had completely lied.]

??: Gotcha.

[Mari's eyes widen as they begin kicking around trying to get out of the hold, after a few seconds of this not working they begin frantically clawing and scratching at E's arm to try and get it off.]

??: If this were with anyone other than me, you’d probably be dead by now, you can’t trust your opponent that easil–

[Mari stops clawing at the arm and instead leans their head forwards before slamming it back into E's face, allowing them to get out before spinning around and blasting E with their elbow. E stumbles backwards, one of the spotlights following him as he attempts to recover from the two blows. He takes a wrong step at some point and ends up falling over into something. Mari doesn’t see what.]

[Mari at this point has fallen to the ground, coughing. Eyes still wide from the chokehold seemingly trying to calm down, not even noticing what just happened to E.]

Ma: I… I… F- Fuck…

[Mari begins rubbing one of their forearms, using it to help them calm down as they remain on the floor.]

Ma: [Panicked.] ok… Calm down, that's easy you've done this a million times just breathe Mari it's ok… It's fine.

[Mari still has not noticed what happened to E, still trying to calm down on the stage.]

Ma: [Still panicked.] E didn't mean to do that, it's ok… Maybe he did but he didn't want to hurt us… Like he said, it's just a lesson. Just a lesson…

[Mari sits there, closing their eyes in an attempt to focus on their breathing.]

[A groan is heard from somewhere off to the side, along with the movement of wires.]

Ma: [A little more calm.] Eh- E?

??: Fuckin’ hell, Mari! I didn’t know you could– fuck, I’m tangled.

Ma: W- What?

??: Over here, man.

[Mari attempts to stand up, their first attempt ends in them shakily falling back down, after a few more attempts they finally get up. Knees shaking as if a cold breeze blew through.]

M: C- Coming!

[Mari slowly walks over to where E's voice was coming from.]

[E isn’t very hard to miss when you’re looking for him, he’s somehow gotten himself tangled in a web of wires, he’s a few feet off the ground, and also upside down. This doesn’t seem to be anything new for him.]

Ma: I… W- What? H- How?

??: What makes you think I know?

Ma: B- Because you got tangled up

[E stares at Mari, expression as neutral as it can be.]

Ma: U- Ugh… H- how am I supposed to get you down?

[Mari stands there, knees still wobbling. Looking around E to check for something to get him down.]

??: This isn’t the first time this has happened, surprisingly.

Ma: Y- Yep. So. How do I g- get you down?

??: Well… the part I’m being held up by is… literally just the left leg, so if I could have a hand with getting that bit untangled, I’m home free.

Ma: C- Cool… H- how am I supposed to get up to y- your left leg? I d- don't see a ladder.

??: … That is definitely an issue I should’ve considered.

Ma: P- Probably…

??: Hm. You got anything sharp on you?

[Mari checks their pockets, pulling out a red pocket knife.]

Ma: G- got this?

??: Give it here, I’ve got an idea.

Ma: Ok… M- make sure you catch it.

[Mari throws the pocket knife at E, who catches it with one hand and starts cutting away at the wires tangled around his leg.]

[Mari falls down on the ground, legs still shaking.]

[E looks up from the wires, staring at Mari.]

??: … got you that bad, huh.

Ma: … Y- yeah. N- never been a fan of chokeholds… or things of that nature.

??: Ah. I get it. I’m not a big fan of rats anymore, never was, but… the dislike is much stronger now. Or… well, I don’t like a lot of things, actually.

Ma: … F- Fair.

??: [He returns to the wires.] Y’got work tomorrow?

Ma: G- got work everyday… B- besides sundays… I think.

??: Ah. Shit. You gonna be okay to go in tomorrow or what?

Ma: I- I'll live… P- Probably…

??: Man, you sound like me back when I was still up and kicking.

Ma: … T- that good or bad?

??: Oh, it’s terrible.

Ma: Damn…

??: Going into work shouldn’t be your first priority, Mari. You’ll end up like me.

Ma: Hm… Y- yeah. Probably… Hell if I know…

??: As soon as I’m down from here, I’ll wake you up. Alright? You sound so pathetic right now that it’s making me feel bad.

Ma: … C- Can I write a t- transcript of this?

??: Sure, why the hell not. People already hate me, punching you a few times won’t do much for my reputation.

Ma: Y- Yeah… M- Mostly j- just some of the other Beta T- testers… and S- sparrow… And N- Ness… Um… Y- yeah…

??: [Muttered.] M’never gaining that trust back, am I.

Ma: I m- mean… You m- might with Ness? L- Lord knows they hated me and we're c- cool now.

??: Nah, uh… I don’t… think so.

Ma: W- Who knows…

??: Anyway, when you wake up, you’d better go right back to fuckin’ bed, Mari. Lord knows these dreams make me tired, I can’t imagine going to aawork in that state. So– ACK–

[As he says the last part, E’s leg is freed from the wires, and he crashes to the floor.]

Ma: Y- you ok?

??: Mmyep! Don’t worry about me.

Ma: You s- sure..?

??: Don’t start this with me of all people, Mari. You don’t need to worry about me, ever. I’ll be fine. You ready to wake up?

Ma: … s- sure…

[In an instant, the theatre vanishes, and Mari awakens.]

[Mari sits up, sighing.]

Ma: F- Fucking hell…

[End transcript.]

[napo-leo-art]

Routine

Word Count: 1647 Fandom: Fallen Hero Rating: Teen Pairing: One-sided Sidestep/Charge

Pre-Heartbreak, Sidestep lets Ortega sleep over. He has a very specific sleep routine.

(Brief mention of Sidestep being trans. No beta, no editing, we post this and then run.)

"Welcome to Chaise a la Song." Levi mutters stiffly, turning to Ric and gesturing blandly at his studio apartment. Ricardo is still busy taking his shoes off and setting them at the rack by the door. Levi feels rather fortunate because he's one *hundred* percent sure that it's 'maison', not 'chaise'. Chaise is a couch.

Levi doesn't even have a couch. He does have a thin mattress on the floor, which operates as his catch-all comfort item.

Ric whistles as he looks around, because he's a massive asshole who wants to piss Levi off. Levi is already lifting his hands to shove his older companion back out the door, late hour be damned. He only let Ric stay over as a courtesy- work landed them way closer to Levi's side of town, and Ric had treated him to a quick dinner, so it felt like he should make it easier on him. Manners were pretty inconvenient when they were one-sided.

"I know it's tiny." Levi's hands hover over around Ricardo's chest, poised to push. "I'm not here much."

"It suits you."

"Sorry for the mess."

"I repeat,"

Levi groans and plants his fingertips against Ricardo's ribs, prodding him back towards the door. Ten little tiny, stabby points of   contact. "What, a tiny mess? Keep em coming. It's not too late to call you a big cab, Sparkles."

"What, you're the one who said it!" He complains, taking Levi's hands by their narrow wrists and pulling them back from any ticklish bits. "It's perfect. Looks really... cozy."

A car alarm goes off outside. They're really close to the street. And the highway.

"So cozy." Levi wildly flaps his arms until Ric lets go, still shaking them off like his hands burned upon contact. At Ric's raised eyebrow- did I shock you?- Levi shakes his head and slinks over to the other side of the room to hit the switches. The single bulb on his ceiling fan blinks to life, and the fan blades begin their wobbly little circular dance. Levi gestures at Ric's body, calling attention back to the scrapes and cuts that've made their mark on his suit. "You can use the bathroom first. The hot water takes a while to kick on, start it early."

He doesn't particularly like the idea of taking a shower himself right now- undressing in Ric's basic vicinity will be bad enough. But he still feels really gross, and so he barely registers Ric's response. It's the fact that he actually did head into the bathroom that matters, and the second the lock clicks, Levi peels off the top of his suit and wrestles to get his binder off.

There isn't much chest to bind down- he's always been very slim, and topped out at a perfectly respectable height for a woman, but short for a man. Weird to think about how quickly perception shifted when he started taking hormones: despite his size, he's always been very androgynous in both face and form.

He still yanks a compression shirt on before he goes for a looser sweater and pants. It just feels so much more secure that way, comfort be damned.

"'Lavender Mist'?" Ortega's voice calls behind Levi, and he nearly jumps out of his skin as he spins back around and presses his back up against the wall. "Lavender Mist? My god Song, it's like you've got a little spa in there."

Levi's eyes traverse the entire wet, bare form of Ric's torso before they register the bottle of body wash he's wiggling back and forth. Levi reaches out to snatch it out of Ric's grip, holding it almost possessively against his own chest. "What is this, a strip show? Go put some clothes on before your towel drops." His voice doesn't crack. No sir.

"Oh yeah? What clothes? Unless you want hero suit dirt all over your bed, I'm gonna need to borrow something." He wiggles his eyebrows at Levi, because to reiterate again, he's a dick. "Going commando to bed isn't really an option."

Despite their difference in size, it's not too unusual an ask- Levi buys most clothes at least a size bigger, every pair of pants he's ever owned held on with a tight belt and a prayer. He digs through his drawer and launches a balled-up pair of sweats that Ortega easily catches one-handed and yanks on under the towel. Levi's wondered for a while whether all of this is deliberate, whether Ric knows the affect he has on him; it's not like he's a stranger to attraction but god, does Levi hope that he's more subtle than the girls he usually finds basking in Ortega's presence. A balled-up shirt follows next, long-sleeved and thick in the way all of Levi's tops are. Just a minute in it has Ortega pulling at the collar, trying to get some air flow under it. The towel has made its way into the hamper already, courtesy of not one but two failed long-shots.

"So, a question."

"Yes, there's AC." Levi's already cranking it up.

"No- I mean yeah, great, do that. Something else though." Ric prods, and Levi only grunts. "What is all this?"

That's enough to get Levi's head whipping around because that kind of question is almost never a good sign... but Ortega's just busy playing with the miniature projector Levi's got in the middle of the room. The question's more encompassing than that though, Levi can tell: there's the thick wedge pillow, the weighted blanket, the surround sound speakers. There's an abandoned reusable compress on the pillow, too hot to really be useful. A bottle of melatonin gummies. A verifiable money-sink for someone who has pretty little to spare.

"You're gonna brick that too." Levi says, because it's a valid concern. Ortega lets it be. "It's just hard to sleep. Sounds of the city." And nightmares. "Could use all the help I can get."

Which isn't to say that it has actually helped much. He can get at least a few hours if he runs himself into the ground, but he tries to just borrow bodies when he can. When it's safe enough. When he doesn't think he'll be caught.

"Your real sleeping problem is probably that it takes an hour to set all this up." Ric jokes, turning his head to grin at Levi.

"I like it. It's meditative." It doesn't sound as over-defensive as he feels, pulling his sleeves over his balled-up hands. "...Do you want to try it?"

"How are you gonna sleep if I do?"

Easy: he doesn't plan to.

"I'll manage. Lay down." He shuffles over to Ortega, the hem of his sweatpants trailing on the floor behind him. He moves a little differently in his Sidestep suit- always has, but he's more conscious of it now that Ric's watching. To his great relief, the guy actually follows his instructions. He flops down onto the bare sheets of the mattress, lifting his torso up when Levi uses his leg to nudge the wedge pillow under his head and shoulders. Levi hefts the weighted blanket up next, not giving Ortega too much time to prepare himself before dumps the thing flat on his body.

"Oww," Ric complains, shuffling the blanket up until it sits higher up near his shoulders. "Sudden yet inevitable betrayal, I bet. You're trying to crush me to death."

"Twenty pounds. Heaviest I could afford." There's a hint of pride in his voice before he yanks the comforter over Ortega too. "Scratching sounds or tapping sounds?"

"What?"

"ASMR." At Ortega's blank look, he coughs and sets the noise machine to rain sounds instead. "Don't make me explain. It's just nice to hear."

He taps the projector instead, pressing the button with one of his toes until he gets to a blue setting: not ranger blue, something a lot lighter and calmer, little faux blue clouds blooming on the ceiling as the projector faintly whirrs.

"Ta-da," Levi says after a moment, because that was the last thing besides the melatonin or ice pack, and Ortega still hasn't said anything.

"You know," He says a moment later, still obediently laying buried up to the chin in blankets. "I was skeptical before."

Levi looks down at Ricardo then, eyebrows raised, arms folded around himself tightly. He can barely see Ric in this lighting, just barely the outlines of his features. He's looking up to that ceiling with heavy-lidded, tired eyes; it's an expression Levi's never seen on his face before and he files that image away in the back of his mind like an archivist with a rare work of art.

"...But now I'm really sure this is bullshIT-" His voice raises the second Levi lifts his leg to kick his side. It gives off a cushioned little 'thump'. "Well now I'm really not relaxed."

"You probably couldn't even feel that."

Ortega extracts a hand from the mass of blankets and pats the top of them. "Pretty sure I can't persuade you to get under em, but I'm still hoping you can lay down."

"Why? The carpet is so comfy." He deadpans, running his foot along the steel wool he calls flooring. Ortega pats more insistently. Levi knows he's going to fold, but he prods Ortega with his foot again. "Move over. Hands under the blanket. You've got a face like a cuddler."

He thumps down as soon as Ortega makes space, lying board-stiff on his back as he decides whether turning his back or his face to Ortega is worse.

"I didn't know you did yoga."

"Corpse pose has the arms by the sides."

Ric sits up. Or tries- the blankets are kinda trapping him. "You do do yoga! Maybe we should've had a session before bed."

"Maybe next time." Levi pulls a pillow over his own face, arms wrapped around it tightly. He knows there probably won't be one.

[gen-is-gone]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61267219/chapters/158631172

Urban Fantasy Heartbreaker (31333 words) by gen_is_gone Chapters: 5/? Fandom: Gravity Falls Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Ford Pines & Stan Pines, Fiddleford H. McGucket & Ford Pines, Fiddleford H. McGucket & Ford Pines & Stan Pines, Bill Cipher/Ford Pines, Fiddleford H. McGucket/Ford Pines Characters: Ford Pines, Stan Pines, Fiddleford H. McGucket, Bill Cipher Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Mystery Trio (Gravity Falls), Demonic Possession, Bill Cipher Possessing Ford Pines, yay it's the same basic premise as every other 80s no portal incident AU, I like to think it'll be a good take on it though, Ford Pines Needs a Hug, Stan Pines Needs A Hug, Whump, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Physical Abuse, I mean it's Bill guys, there are no characterization thesis statements going on here I promise, Body Horror, Major Illness, Possibly Unrequited Love Summary: Lemme know if you've heard this one before: Guy meets up with brother. Guy fights brother. Guy fails to successfully push brother through inter-dimensional portal. Absent any kind of Incidents, brothers might have to actually work through their shit like adults instead of leaving it on the backburner for thirty years. Yeah, yeah. You know how this song and dance goes by now. Careful though. Clock's still ticking. Somebody's gotta be at fault, right?