#I lined up that one music cue nicely

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

#writeblr #warm up #this is longer than i wanted i really considered removing that part about myself and what i went thru #but i think it really fucking bothers me that EVERY time i talk about being an artist #ppl assume i just like. had the skill and ability to drop everything and pay for grad school. #like sir i grew up poor. my house wasn't a safe space. i gave up a FREE RIDE TO LAW SCHOOL. for THIS. bc i chose it. #was it fucking hard? was i choosing the hard thing?? yes. #but we need to stop seeing artists as lazy layabouts that can ''afford'' to just ''sit around and create'' #when MANY - if not MOST - of us are NOT like that. we have to work our fucking ASSES off. hard work. long and hard work #part of valuing artists is recognizing the amount we sacrifice to make our art. bc it doesn't just #like HAPPEN to us. also btw it rarely has anything to do with true talent. #speaking as someone with a chronic condition i hate when ppl are like u have it easy. like actively as i'm writing this my hands r #ACTIVELY hurting me. i haven't been posting bc my left hand was curled in a claw for the last week #this isn't fucking luck. after a certain point it's not even TALENT. it's dedication & sacrifice. #''u get to flounce around and do nothing with ur life'' is a narrative that is a direct result of capitalism #imagine if we said that about literally any other profession. #''oh so u give up 10 yrs of ur life to be a doctor? u sacrifice having a social life and u get SUPER in debt? #u need to work countless hours and it will often be thankless? well i wish i was that lucky'' #we should be applying that logic to landlords ONLY #''oh ur mom and dad gave u the money to buy a house? and all u did was paint it white and rent it? huh.''

[xorafe]

looking to score (one-shot)

pairing footballcaptain! rafe cameron x female headcheerleader! reader

rating explicit 18+

summary rafe has been flirting with you all season long. just when you think he’s never going to actually seal the deal, you do something to make him dangerously jealous and he realizes he’ll need you to prove who you’re loyal to.

» masterlist

*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

The state championship game coming up means there are two sure things you can count on.

One, you have to hold twice as many cheerleading practices to make sure your routines are clean and flawless.

And two, everyone on campus has Rafe Cameron’s name in their mouth.

He’s the starting quarterback, the captain of the football team, the fucking pride and joy of your college. For him, it’s awesome. He loves the attention. As for you, you’ve given up on trying to stifle your eye-rolls any time someone mentions him.

Rafe is the cockiest man you’ve ever known. Your interactions with him have been limited, but telling. He’s been teasing you all season, flirting and acting like he’ll finally put a move on you. But then he never does.

Before every home game, as team captains, you stand first in your respective line in the tunnelled corridor that leads out to the football field. This gives Rafe a nice few minutes to flirt with you and does he love to lay it on thick.

Today, finally, it’s the day of the championship game, and your college is hosting. The campus is buzzing with excitement, colorful signs in the stands, every parking lot full.

You’re waiting in your usual spot. The crowds in the stands outside are roaring and the conversations of cheerleaders and college staff are bouncing around the concrete tunnel.

The players aren’t here yet, but you know it’s only a matter of minutes before Rafe leads them down the hall, pausing next to you, messing with you like always.

It’s almost torment the way he works you up, then does nothing about it. Nonetheless, you look forward to this little routine you two have and hope he puts his money where his mouth is one day.

Rafe lives for the buzz before a home meet. The local fame he amasses, the promise of an hour-long game where he’s celebrated for his aggression, the opportunity to talk to you before he steps out onto the field… it’s electrifying.

When he saunters down the corridor towards you, all height and breadth and fucking ego, his eyes trail down your body like he’s imagining what’s underneath your cheerleading uniform.

“Damn,” he lowly mutters to you. “I swear, that skirt keeps getting shorter.” He leans back against the hard wall, waiting for his cue to rush the field.

“Wishful thinking,” you reply, crossing your arms.

Rafe soaks in the sight of your cleavage, the way your tits press together under your v-neck top when you stand like that. His blood runs hot like it always does when he sees you.

“This is a big game,” he says. He’s rolling his helmet in his big hands, his shoulder pads wide, the red of his jersey somehow making his blue eyes look even bluer. “You shouldn’t be distracting me.”

“Do you ever give it a rest?” you ask. He bites his lip, gaze dropping to your legs.

“We both know you don’t want that.” His smirk is so cocky, his dimples so taunting, that you have to look away from him. He’s almost too hot.

“Got me there, Rafe,” you say sarcastically. When you roll your eyes at him, his dirty mind immediately imagines you doing that from pleasure while he fucks you.

“Good, get used to saying my name,” he chuckles.

“Because I’ll be screaming it later, right?” you quip. “Original.” Regardless, you feel yourself flush a little when you imagine him on top of you.

“I’m just sayin’, be prepared,” he says, amused as hell. The band starts playing the familiar entrance music in the stands, prompting you to get ready to run out.

“You want me so bad, it’s embarrassing.” You kneel over to pick your pompoms off the ground, purposely perking your ass in his direction. He feels his groin tighten at the view.

“I’m not embarrassed,” he says. You meet his eyes and can’t stifle the smile on your face, shaking your head as he pulls his helmet over his head.

Goddamn, he wish he knew if he actually had a chance with you. But he hasn’t ever made a real move, sure you’d reject him in a heartbeat. It’d be too big a blow to his ego.

The game is a close one through all four periods. You and your team cheer on the sidelines as the sun starts to set, trying to weaken the thick tension that stretches across the field.

Rafe plays fast and rough like usual, but you’ve noticed he has a sudden rivalry with one of the opposing players. Every time he gets even remotely close to number 33, who’s clearly been tasked with taking Rafe down, he’s shouting at him or shoving him.

His aggression is hot. Always has been. You look away from the field as if someone can read your mind.

Of course, it’s Rafe’s touchdown that wins the game for the home team. You’re elated, the cheering and applause and energy around you magnetizing.

You and the other cheerleaders storm the field, followed by the marching band and everyone on the coaching team.

In the crowd, you see Rafe with his helmet off, smiling the biggest you’ve ever seen. The stadium lights are strong, washing him in a bright light, showcasing the handsome planes of his face.

“Don’t rub it in, huh?” you hear. You turn to see a player from the other team smirking at you, his helmet hanging off his fingers.

“Kind of my job,” you reply, gesturing to your pompoms. He laughs, nodding as he looks down. Okay, he’s cute.

Rafe’s impulse is to look for you, brag to you about his win and about how you have no choice but to cheer for him.

When his eyes land on you, you’re standing on the field looking so fucking cute with your hip cocked, smiling at…

His blood boils. You’re smiling at another guy. The guy who’s been dogging him and pissing him off the whole game. Number 33. Why the fuck are you smiling at him?

Rafe can’t control himself. He starts to push through the crowd to get you the hell away from that asshole, when the coach stops him, talking to him about their play.

He loses sight of you and it makes every sore muscle in his body tense.

When the team heads inside, Rafe doesn’t even have the patience to peel off his muddy uniform. He leaves his helmet in his locker and rushes out of the room to find you.

He’s pissed off at your lack of loyalty. He’d like to think it’s because he cares about the team that much, but no. You’re his. Some dickhead, especially one on the opposing team, isn’t going to flirt his way into your pants.

When he spots you walking through one of the hallways that surrounds the stadium, he rushes to you and grabs your wrist.

You look up to see Rafe staring down at you with hard eyes.

“Why were you talking to that asshole?” he asks over the sound of the chattering crowds surrounding you.

Excitement burns through you. Is he talking about the player who flirted with you? Damn. He’s jealous. You give him a gratified smile.

“Only asshole I talked to today was you,” you reply.

“What did he say?” he demands, voice low. What’s worse is that you fucking smiled at him, a smile that should only be reserved for him, but he won’t say that out loud.

“He was hitting on me,” you reply, smirking. “Hopefully he’ll actually do something about it. Unlike you.”

Your response throws him for a second. If you want him to follow through, to finally resolve months of sexual tension, he’ll gladly fucking do it.

He angrily yanks you towards him and you allow him to guide you through the throngs of spectators.

Rafe has one thing in mind. He knows where the visiting teams park their bus. And he’s taking you there.

He roughly pushes open the heavy door to the back parking lot, pulling you behind him. The evening air is warm and the area is dark and fenced up and all you can hear is his panting.

Hard hands find your hips and push you against the cold, metal wall of the bus. Rafe’s finally facing you again, his stare penetrating. Your heart is hammering with anticipation.

“You want me to do something about it, huh?” he rasps. He pushes his hips against yours, grinding against you.

“Fucking finally,” you breathe.

His lips are on yours as he huffs a chuckle, unable to believe that you’re crumbling for him this damn easily.

His tongue runs against yours and his body feels so firm, the smell of his sweat musky and so fucking sexy. You feel the bulge of his hardening cock against your groin and you buck against him.

His hand eagerly runs up your thigh, below your skirt. When his fingers press against your cunt, you jolt, your breath stopping for a second.

“You wet for me?” he asks, pads of his fingers pushing up against your entrance. His breath is hot, his nose nudging yours. Arousal coils in your stomach, tight and hot.

You feel so soft and moist through your panties. Rafe knows he won’t be able to simply touch you for much longer. He needs to be inside you.

“Mhm,” you can only desperately hum.

His other hand moves from your hip to your face, squeezing your cheeks together as he looks down at you.

“What’s that?” he asks.

“Yes,” you reply clearly, eyes boring into his.

Excitement pools in you when he moves his hands away to pull down his pants. You eagerly hike up your skirt and yank down your underwear.

It’s so fucking insane to be doing this out here. Someone could come through the door in a second. But the risk of it just adds to the thrill.

You revel in the sight of Rafe’s hard, curved cock in his hand. He’s fucking huge. You can admit the ego is warranted.

Rafe loves your expression, the way your lips are parted in surprise.

“Damn, look at you,” he huffs with a smirk. “You want this dick so bad.”

You eagerly lift your knee for him and he takes the invitation immediately, holding your leg up against his hip.

The feeling of him lining himself up against your cunt is mind-blowing. He pushes into you slowly, every inch feeling better than the last.

“How long have you wanted this?” he grunts once he bottoms out.

“Feels like fucking forever,” you admit breathlessly. “What took you so long?”

“Just be grateful you’re getting it,” Rafe replies. So cocky. Typical.

He pulls back then thrusts into you. Hard. You let out a strained sob and he inhales sharply at how nicely you’re squeezing around him.

“Oh, my God,” you whimper. The leg holding you up is wobbly already, making you grateful his hand is firmly hooked underneath your knee.

“You think that idiot can fuck you like this?” he says, driving in and out of you.

“No,” you say, and you mean it. You’re not sure anybody can pound into you so effortlessly, with so much passion.

You dip your head back, eyes squeezed shut while he fucks you.

“Don’t fucking talk to him again,” he orders, his hand rubbing over your chest and roughly kneading your tits.

This jealousy, this ownership, is so fucking hot. He continues to pull in and out so hard and so fast that you know you’ll be sore tomorrow.

“I won’t,” you promise. He’s so big inside you, stretching you so nicely, that you feel your stomach tightening already. “Shit. I’m gonna cum.”

“Do it loudly,” he says with a self-satisfied laugh. “And say my name.”

You obey, and when the orgasm rocks through you, your blood runs hot and sparks go off through your entire body. Rafe feels you squeezing him even tighter and he groans, cumming inside you in hot waves, twitching.

You bite your lip as he pulls out, feeling aftershocks of pleasure rocking through you.

Realizing what you’ve just done, that you’re in a fully public area, you frantically pull up your panties and readjust your skirt. Rafe looks amused by your nervousness, slowly getting dressed again.

“That was…” you begin, but you don’t have the words. Rafe leans down, capturing your face in his hands again to kiss you deeply.

A loud bang forces you apart. You see a player from the opposing team stepping out the door, trailed by the rest of his team.

A few seconds earlier, and you’d have been mortified. But Rafe takes the opportunity to kiss you again before taking your hand and pulling you through the door, past the group of guys.

“Get home safe,” Rafe mutters to them with a smirk, his tone taunting and entirely disingenuous. He spots number 33 and smiles at him with nothing but contempt.

He squeezes your hand and tilts his head towards you as the two of you walk by the sullen man.

“Looks like you lost,” Rafe half-laughs, very clearly not talking about the game.

thank you to this anon for inspiring this fic! if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

#i was gonna post a series next but i got this one-shot request and i couldn’t stop thinking about it #anyways i’ve discovered that i love college au’s? #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #obx smut #rafe x y/n #rafe x you

[doobea]

Hi, I saw your requests were open! If it hasn’t been asked already, could I please request hcs for how Rin, Shidou, and Sae (and any other characters you want to add!) flirt/get someone to like them? Thank you!

synopsis: how they would go about flirting with you

content: sfw, fluff, gn!reader, assuming reader has medium/long hair characters: rin, shidou, sae, oliver a/n: omg yes of course hehe i love coming up with these types of headcanons, i added oliver bc i love him sm...

Rin

You have to be great at picking up subtle cues just because he won't be verbally saying anything to indicate his true feelings towards you. Some small signs that he'll give away might be his prolonged stares or soft smiles whenever you walk into the room.

A tender gesture that he finds himself doing is tucking your hair back if it obstructs your face when you're focusing on something. In crowded areas, he'll walk behind you with a firm hand on your back as he guides you through.

He'll start paying super close attention to small details you like. If he happens to pick you up from somewhere, he'll make sure to put on music that you like (maybe already has a curated playlist on hand). He'll offer to buy you food from time to time, remembering the order details and adjustments by heart.

Anything regarding verbal flirting from him comes off as super awkward? Rin will think compliments will suffice as flirting so if you're really good at a hobby he'll just be like "nice" followed by his best attempt to smile. Occasionally, when he's feeling bold, he'll say something along the lines of "that looks good on you" or "you look nice today". Bonus but he probably practices saying those lines in the mirror and then cringing hard right after.

If you were to flirt with him back, honestly he wouldn't really know what to do because in his mind he didn't imagine it would get this far. Probably would try and keep his responses curt and stoic but his red ears will give it away.

Sae

Like his brother, he won't be too vocal about it but will definitely be a lot more physical in a teasing manner. In public, he'll purposefully brush his hands against yours when walking or reaching for the same object. If you're standing in front of him, he'll lean over and will make sure that he's up against your ear if he needs to ask you a simple question.

His socials are pretty much filled with professional photos from recent games or sponsorships, but he keeps it personal on his stories. As sort of a "soft launch" of his crush, he'll make sure to take photos with him in the center but you're always in the background. His followers will bombard him with questions but Sae responds back with "?" every time.

He'll start calling you by a nickname one day and just stick with it. It'll be super casual too, you could be working on something and Sae will walk by with the usual "morning" but then say a shortened version of your name.

Drops off souvenirs or small trinkets from his international matches. In the beginning, he'll lie and say that management gave him two of the same magnet but, eventually, he'll go out of his way to grab a cute keychain or two for you.

He doesn't really consider himself to be a subtle person, especially when it comes to flirting, he likes to indulge himself with little nuances and enjoys seeing your reactions out of it. If you were to ask him straight up about his intentions, Sae would probably come clean.

Shidou

Very direct and super playful in a chaotic way. It'll probably pop up mid-conversation where he'll drop the bomb and then talk about the next upcoming games. If you ask him to repeat himself, he'll say it louder for people to hear.

Shidou will do out-of-pocket things to try and elicit a reaction out of you. His signature move is playfully cornering you against the wall with his hand up, inching his face closer to yours only to pull back last minute. Another thing he'll do is undo his laces on his cleats and ask you to tie them up. He finds it absolutely hilarious to see you fumbling over your words and actions, and he will let you know.

He would never flirt without any meaning or intention behind it and he will definitely not just throw out any generic banter for the fun of it. So if he tells you that he finds you funny or attractive, he means every word he says.

Makes sure to follow you back home every single time and not in a weird creepy way. He likes to offer to walk you back home whenever you guys are out, especially when it's late out at night. He claims that if you have him around it's the same as having "scary dog privilege". Definitely boosts his ego when you take up on his offer multiple times.

Goes out of his way to say something to you every morning. Whether it be a generic question or saying hi, he'll always make sure that he talks to you first before anyone else.

Oliver

If he really likes someone, he'll try and show them that he's genuinely interested in them. That would mean him doing more acts of service rather than solely relying on playful banter. But that doesn't mean he'll give up on teasing you relentlessly. He won't have any issues calling you "cute" every time he sees you.

Extremely touchy to a fault but will only use it when necessary. If you're walking slower than he is, he'll have no problem hoisting you over his shoulders or carrying you bridal style, saying that he's not planning to wait on you. If you guys are riding on a subway or in the backseat of a car, he'll make sure to lean his body against yours and say "whoops too crowded in here".

Loves to show off on the field, especially when he was captain of the U-20 team. Makes sure that you can hear his voice from the stands and will put extra effort into his trick shots and goals. His fangirls will be crowding him after the matches but he'll ignore them to meet up with you.

Will be visibly pouty if he sees anyone else flirting with you. After eavesdropping on the conversation, he'll walk over to you and complain about how cheesy and lame the other person was. "Stay away from perverts" is something he'll always warn.

Some smaller things that Oliver will find himself doing is wholeheartedly giving away his hoodies or shirts to you if you're cold or need something quick to wear. If you're ever sore from working hard or coming back from the gym, he'll offer to give a massage (it's actually pretty good and not sexual surprisingly). This one is a shocker, but he'll soon find himself in the kitchen cooking things that you like.

#blue lock #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock x reader #doobea writing #blue lock headcanons #oliver aiku #oliver aiku x reader #rin itoshi #itoshi rin #rin itoshi x reader #sae itoshi #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi sae x reader #shidou ryusei #shidou ryuusei x reader #doobea requests #blue lock x you #blue lock x gn reader #blue lock fluff

[nunalastor]

I figure it’s about time I start to shout in the void(your ask box)

So here’s some HC I have:

Alastor has high pain tolerance. He’s good at knowing when to heal but he tends not to because he doesn’t notice it, so surely it’s not that bad. Vox, Husk and Rosie usually have an immediate reaction if he says he’s in any sort of pain. Rosie because they’re friends and she knows how Alastor is, Husk because he cares for Alastor on the down low(he still hates the guy but he’s a little fond of him) and Vox because he’s used to it from when he and Alastor were friends. They all know that if Al’s “sore” he’s actually dying. (Cue immediate bells for Husk when Al says he’s too tired to do something for Charlie after the Adam situation).

Alastor actually came to hell with white hair(deer genes). Hated it so he dyed it red. He accidentally set his hair on fire while trying to style it immediately after dying it so he had to emergency cut it hence the bob. Seems like the type to become fond of things quickly, so the bob stuck to the horror of literally everyone around him.

Husk can only speak the 7 languages fluently when he’s drunk. When he’s sober he can only speak 2 fluently; English and French. Ties in with my hc that Husk grew up in Louisiana before his family moved to Las Vegas. (purely so I can have him sing Friends on the Other Side to the hotel crew in my head).

Husk sneaks in more modern music into Alastor’s radio playlists that sound older than they are. This includes Tom Lehrer and medieval versions of modern music; Alastor knows all the lyrics to Montero but only the medieval version.

Charlie and Lucifer get weirdly territorial of the junk food in the house. It’s a remnant from when they would fight over the cereal when Charlie was younger, which was a fun game then but slowly got more serious as Charlie got older. It’s especially bad when they’re tired and/or hungry. Angel and Vaggie are the only ones allowed to take the food away when they’re fighting, Vaggie for obvious reasons and Angel because he can run fast. Husk can too technically, since he can just fly, but he doesn’t really want to(lazy). Same goes for Alastor(enjoys the show).

Vaggie gets really embarrassed when someone points out something nice she did or when her outfit is cute. Heaven expects everyone to always do good and look good no matter what so it’s only noticed when you aren’t. She doesn’t know how to respond to compliments or thanks so just freezes.

Niffty likes helping cook food, though she isn’t actually allowed to come close to the stove(she knocked a pot of soup over once, never again). She’s always happy to cut vegetables or deconstruct poultry.

Angel “anonymously” gives the hotel residents gifts as thanks for letting him hang around. They’re usually hand made and he tends to throw them at the person saying that “someone gave it to him and he doesn’t want it”. He thinks he’s slick but he’s not.

And of course, a cursed one: Alastor had a serving cunt era when he first arrived, where he kept with the times for like 1 year and wore scandalous clothes(like idk a backless blouse or, god forbid, an ankle length skirt) and a corset for his back problems. He got immediately embarrassed after he got over it and killed everyone who ever saw him, hence the overlord killing spree. He doesn’t wear a corset anymore, instead opting for a more discreet ensemble involving silk lines(like rope but flat?) that doesn’t impede his movements as much as a corset. His 7 year break was because he found an old photo of himself online and hid himself in shame. He eventually made a deal with someone to erase any trace of his phase from everything but his own memory. It’d be funny if that person was Velvette lol

👀👀

#hazbin hotel #alastor #nunalastor asks #husk #charlie morningstar #lucifer morningstar #vaggie #angel dust #niffty #velvette #that was the most tamed cursed thing we've ever received

[lovelytsunoda]

uptown girl // mickey "fanboy" garcia

soft kisses shared in the bar light after a game of pool

she would do anything for her nerd boy. except maybe meet his friends in a crowded bar with a pool table where she can make a fool of herself in front of all of her boyfriend's friends. it's a good thing that mickey is a good teacher.

pairing: mickey "fanboy" garcia x female! reader

author's note: he had like four lines and i was prepared to go to war for this man.

the hard deck hummed with activity as she parked her car, flicking off the manual headlights before glancing at her phone, which was pinned to it's magnetic holder on the dashboard.

it wasn't too late to text mickey and tell him something had come up, was it?

as she was thinking it, as if mickey could hear her, her phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with a text message from her beloved.

mickey: hey sweet girl, are you almost here? everyone is so excited to meet you!

she sighed, switching the music off and cutting the engine, sitting in the dark car and waiting for the heated seat to lose its warmth. her relationship with mickey garcia was still very new.

they had only been together for a few months, having met at an eighties rock-and-glow dance night. she was standing by the stage, dressed in skinny jeans and a white t-shirt that glowed fluorescent in the blacklight, an old-timey glass sprite bottle in her hands as she sang bonnie tyler at the top of her lungs. he was the best dancer there, with a goofy personality that captivated her from the moment he grabbed her hand and pulled her into a slow dance to 'heaven in your eyes'.

deciding to rip the band-aid off, she grabbed her tote bag from the passenger seat and slipped out of the car, sea breeze cutting deep and sending a chill down her spine as she walked up the weathered steps to fightertown's navy bar.

her sweet boy was impossible to miss, his smile lighting up the whole bar as he stood next to the pool table, his short-sleeved button shirt untucked from his crisp blue jeans.

as nervous as she was, it was hard not to smile when she saw him, watching as he leaned over the table to delicately knock a striped ball into one of the pockets in the corner of the table. after the shot, he looked up, and infectious grin breaking out over his face when he saw her.

"hey, pretty girl." he beamed, passing his pool cue to a woman in a black turtleneck and jeans before he sidestepped the table and pulled his lover into an embrace. "i'm glad you came."

"hi, mickey." she smiled, kissing him softly. "i've missed you."

"are you ready to meet everyone? or do you want something to eat first? i can order you a plate of onion rings-"

she laughed softly, taking his hand in hers. she loved how attentive and sweet he was, always trying to dote on her whenever he could. when they were together, he hated letting her pay for things, even if it meant dipping into his not-enormous navy salary "mickey, it's okay. i have time to meet your friends before i order."

with a soft kiss to the side of her head, mickey looped his arm around her shoulders and they headed towards the pool table. "guys, this is y/n. my girlfriend."

she underestimated how much her heart would swell at hearing mickey say those words. hearing someone declare to the world that they had chosen her.

"y/n, this is natasha, jake, robert, bradley, hallie and javy."

"hello!" she squeaked, waving at the group. "nice to finally meet you guys, mickey has told me so much about you guys."

robert laughed, reaching out to shake her hand. "and mickey has told us even more about you. fanboy loves to talk."

she never though she'd meet someone who talked as much as she did until she met mickey. they could talk for hours, about anything and everything. when they were together, she suspected it would drive the people around them insane. except she didn't know how his friends would react, what they would think of her.

they made small talk for a little, while some of the guys and natasha all took their turns at the pool table. it was team game, although the teams seemed to be a little unbalanced in terms of skill level. mickey had pulled her into his lap, gently rubbing circles on the skin underneath her peasant top.

jake leaned over the table, his pool cue hitting the white ball, white harmlessly dusted the side of the ball he was aiming for, plunking down in the basket.

"god damn it, hangman!" javy groaned

natasha laughed, high-fiving bradley. "sucks to suck, bagman!"

mickey shifted in his chair, hands running up her sides. "our turn, pretty girl. do you want to try?"

she turned back to him, a small glint of panic in her eyes as she took his hand in hers. "i'm not very good."

bradley snorted, taking a sip of his budweiser. "we're miles ahead of hangman, you could break the table and we'd still be ahead of them."

"go on." mickey encouraged, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder blade. "i'll guide you."

she stood up, still clutching his hand in hers as she moved towards the pool table. hallie passed her a pool cue, and she stood nervously by the table until mickey came up behind her. his hands were warm through her jeans, his back against hers as he guided her into the correct position.

"you got this, sweet girl." he said quietly, kissing the side of her head gently, his hands over hers on the cue. "it's a straight shot into the basket."

mickey stepped back, his hands still on her waist as she took the shot, hitting with just enough force for the white ball to send the orange solid ball into the basket.

one fell swoop.

mickey's side of the pool table started to cheer, and her cheeks flushed pink as she turned around to wrap her arms around mickey, hiding her face from the crowd.

"great job, my darling girl." mickey laughed, kissing her softly. "are you sure you haven't played pool before."

"my grandfather had a table in his basement." she said sheepishly, leaning the cue against the table to she could slip her hands into mickey's back pockets. "but i haven't played a proper game since I was twelve. he sold the table when they sold the house."

"maybe you'll have to play more often." mickey said, leaning in to kiss her softly. "i love you."

"i love you too."

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @thatsdemko @lorarri @sidcrosbyspuck @cartierre @httpiastri

#mickey garcia x reader #mickey fanboy garcia x reader #top gun imagine #top gun x reader #top gun maverick x reader #fanboy x reader #fools in love! event

[iron-sparrow]

FIVE SONGS I'M INTO RIGHT NOW °⊹♫∘｡⁺₊🎧⁺⋆

Oh, this is my shit. I am rarely not listening to music. Thank you so much for the tag, @gatheredfates!

‣ This Is A Life by Son Lux, Mitski & David Byrne

This is a life, slow and sudden miracles View of other worlds from our window sills With the weight of eternity at the speed of light

Man, this song has kept the Everything Everywhere All At Once soundtrack in my Spotify annual summaries every year since 2022. It's also my default Yein music, and it gets placed on repeat when I wanna pose or write for them.

‣ WE GOT THE MOVES by Electric Callboy

OH FUCK YEAH, LET'S DO IT AGAIN!

This is a power anthem. I play it on raid reclears, and it's usually looping in my head when I'm trying to hype myself up for a big (dead)lift. The above line is simple, but the way it's screamed has become a powerful mental cue for me to brace and pull.

‣ Seize the Power by YONAKA

Woke up this morning, I feel so fucking important I looked in the mirror, I'm different, I finally made a decision

The whole song is a banger. Good lyrics and a satisfying heavy bass.

‣ Kitchen Sink by twenty one pilots

No one else is dealing with your demons Meaning maybe defeating them Could be the beginning of your meaning, friend

Look, sometimes you just need to scream with a song and cry it out.

‣ These Days by Foo Fighters

Easy for you to say; Your heart has never been broken Your pride has never been stolen

I really like Foo Fighters. Always have, always will.

Tagging @nolcro @sporebat @oneiroy @verysmallcyborg @archaiclumina @thefreelanceangel @seinthood @sparrowsong-7 and any other music enjoyers out there.

This has been a nice little break from the OC Basics I still gotta do for my alts. Please look forward to those.

#tag game #ooc post #music #no pressure y'all #just tagging some chill folks #as always tried to avoid dupes #an excuse to pose Yein again

[shakirawastaken]

dsmp if... they were teachers!

they are all high school teachers 

dream: stats - gives his class random stats facts about each exam they take - “the median was 25.8% and the mean was 50% and the mode was 72% andt he t-test showed the results were statistically significant” - wears a green button up formal shirt . every day. with different shades of green  - tries to tame his hair every morning but we’ve all seen that shit. its a mess its so fluffy - you try to fix it in the morning but by the time he gets to school its fucked - “whats the probability mr wastaken’s hair is gonna be tamed today? i bet 5 dollars on 13.2%” “...i hear you guys you know” - is always 20 minutes early - never more than that tho - speedruns grading tests  - if a kid is slacking in class, he makes sure that reflects on his grade - he has this big project each year where he asks all the kids to make a project that relates stats to their real life - his favorite thing ever - he’ll come home and be like “dear, tubbo had this amazing idea, the kids are so innovative”  - tearing up cause his students - best friends with sapnap - u make him a lunch every day and he just trades it with sapnap - everyone thinks hes in an affair with george but he tells them everytime that he has a lovely s/o at home  - one of the teachers everyone has a crush on  - is always standing at his desk like in front of it and leaning back - does not use the whiteboard he just has slideshows  - the room is sparsely decorated - its mainly old projects that people did - has a wall with all the cards and stuff kids gave him, its behind his desk 

sapnap: pe/ basketball + football coach - bro - he’s the type of coach/teacher that when he has one of his atheletes in his class he’s RUTHLESS - “pick it up tommy!! is this how you’re gonna be in the game on friday!!! i hope not!!” - jokingly ofc - if ur not one of his athletes he’s nice dw  - still makes everyone call him coach tho - how on earth do u spell athletes i think that’s right - will let you sit out if he can tell ur hurting - knows when a kid is faking it - BUT if you use the “im on my period” trick he doesn’t even question it - “coach im on my period” “okay ur good sit out for today” - likes giving romance advice for some reason - “coach :((( jared blh blah [insert problem]” “omg okay here’s what u do” - pretends he’s in a relationship with karl (u know about it ofc) - so when u show up to one of his games and kiss him all the players are like - “YOURE NOT DATING MR JACOBS” and he just laughs and kisses you again - wears shorts or sweats with a tshirt no matter what - “im a pe teacher fuck professional”  - makes fun of dream for like no reason  - his favorite unit is the flag football unit and his least favorite is the line dance one - but uses it as an opportunity to play country music and visit his roots amen - just imagine sapnap teaching u line dancing HAAHAH okay im done here 

george: comp sci - doesnt give a shit about lesson planning - shows up, glances at the syllabus and just jumps into it - it ends up working in the end - believes in a work to learn method - he doesnt teach, he assigns projects and helps the kids out - so if the kid is like comp sci EXPERT they can just pop off and george doesnt have to worry - but if the kid struggles a bit heres there to help :] - the whole room is blue cause thats all he can see - he looks so uncomfortable when he wears like long sleeve button ups so you unbutton the first one every morning before he leaves  - refuses to wear casual clothing to school ever  - unless its pajama day ayeeee - once he was teaching the whole class how to download something or some shit and forgot to stop sharing his screen  - so he went to text you he was like “doing good love? see you later :]” - and everyone was like - “MR NOTFOUND??” and he was like “wot.” “YOURE NOT DATING MR WASTAKEN??” “no ofc not mr wastaken is ugly” - cue the sounds of breaking glass from mr wastaken’s room  - he has a tv on display outside his classroom where he showcases his student’s work - for his final he just gives them a theme and says “go off” - they could make a video, a game, a simulator - whatever they want - 1) its less work for george 2) its more entertaining - once made them all code valentine’s day gifts for you - you teared up ngl  - seems like he doesnt care but wants all his kids to succeed - is REALLY good at being patient and helping a kid out but loses all that patience when it comes to other teachers (sapnap, quackity)

karl: chem - absolutely loves the science goggles look. has them on his head always - also lab coats with sweater vest period ahh period uhh  - only doesnt give a second shit about any other science but chemistry - loves lab days like on GOD - the man lives for the one lab where u put sticks w diff elements in the fire and watch the fire change color - guys i swear im a stem major - sapnap comes to watch that lab everytime. every period. even if he has a class - knows sapnap pretends to date him and reciprocates it all through the year - but theres that one kid who remembers his “get to know me” slideshow at the beginning of the year where he had a picture of you two - “mr jacobs..i dont believe ur dating coach sapanp” “whaaaat, pshhh, u lying” - makes so many chemistry jokes with you - “hey baby i think we got chemistry” *giggles manically* “why did you say that” “its literally my job”  - cue a thumbs up from u and an eye roll from him - genuinely loves being a teacher tho - the interaction he gets with students >>>  - he loves the feeling when a student comes up to him after class or even after theyre finished with his classes and go “hey what you taught me really helped” - loves it when a student keeps in contact with him, making him tear up and shi

quackity: spanish - this one was quite..obvious - chaotic teaching style, it doesnt work for everyone - but ITS FUN - lives on teaching through games - kahoots, quiz, scavenger hunt, anything to get out of a slideshow he’ll do - and he figures it out - his quizzes and tests are generally harder than what the games cover but hes a fair grader like he gets that he made it harder - LMFAO HAS A UNIT WHERE HE TEACHES FLIRTS AND SHIT IN SPANISH - brings u in to teach - LMFAOOO “hola amor” “hi?” “what does that mean class” “hi love” “wtf” - laughs maniacally  - also this scenario - “hey mr q can i get extra credit for this” “for what” “ *student swears agressively in spanish*”  “....yeah ill give u some points dont tell principal phil” - jokingly pines over both coach sapnap and mr jacobs - “guys coach sapnap *heart eyes* and mr jacobs *heart eyes*” “please just teach us spanish” - but everyone knows its a joke and ur it for him - he LOVES the food unit - he borrows the kitchens from the home ec room to teach people how to make traditional spanish foods - but GODDAMN he cant cook  - so it ends badly - also he has a thing on his wall for the fifa world cup where its like an elimination thing - face painted his face the mexican flag when the game happened - was this close to cancelling class when mexico was out

wilbur: theater  - i wish he was MY theater teacher in high school - one of the only non-toxic teachers - wears a long ass coat i forgot the name - TRENCHCOAT. for dramatics. its giving severus snape  - always wants to put on musicals but phil said  “you can only do one musical per year” - does that tik tok trend where he has a wall of musicals and rips one off each day and the last one standing is the one they put on - tries so so so hard to get the rights to hamilton, doesnt obviously - so he does stuff like in the heights, dear evan hansen, etc - IF A KID WRITES A MUSICAL AND APPROACHES HIM YOU BEST KNOW HES ALREADY SAYING YES TO PUTTING IT ON WITHOUT A SECOND *THOUGHT* - he loves supporting his students in stuff theyre passionate about even if it isnt music/theater related - once went to the schools water polo game cause one his student mentioned offhandedly in class that they didnt have anyone coming - tommy is his teacher’s assistant person  - he runs the improv lessons while wil observes him teaching - “okay kids youre all aliens and ur abducting mr soot” “tommy..” - its so funny when theyre together  - rumor has it theyre brothers along with mr blade and phil is their dad - “class please, philza minecraft is not my father.” “okay son” “PHIL WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE” - brings u in one day with the excuse of teaching them how to be in love - in reality just has a whole class sing a long to disney love songs while u sit there like why am i here - you pressure him to put on shows YOU want to see - “wil put on high school musical” “nO! WHAT AM I in high school thats so basic” “yes. you are in high school. technically” - puts on high school musical - HES THE TEACHER WHO SHIPS KIDS TOGETHER in the form of making them play love interests  - its giving mrs darbus from high school musical - i was in high school musical i played sharpay 

lmk if u want to see more members as teachers!! :D and what else u want to see period sorry it was so long okay BYEEE

#dreamwastaken x reader #georgenotfound x reader #sapnap x reader #wilbur soot x reader #karl jacobs x reader #quackity x reader #dsmp if... #shakira shakira writes #mcyt x reader #dsmp x reader #mcyt school au #dsmp school au

[cowgurrrl]

When The Sun Goes Down

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

Author’s note: cue Diet Mountain Dew by Lana Del Rey

Summary: Your first date with Joel doesn’t go exactly as planned [2.6k]

Warnings: Joel being an asshole, reader being (rightfully) mean to Joel, fake dating, a little (a lot) smoochy smooch

There's a knock on your door at 7:15. You think about giving him shit about being fifteen minutes late, but when you open the door, he has a bouquet of red roses in his hand. You take a deep breath as you glance between him and the flowers. He cleans up nicely. He's wearing a sleek white shirt tucked into a pair of slacks and a gold chain peeking from his collar. "You look nice," he compliments with a smile. You glance around and spot a black van down the block with the unmistakable round lens of a camera up to the window. "Ready to go?" He asks, pulling your attention back to him. You smile and nod.

"Let me put these in water first, and then we can go," you say, turning on your heels to walk back into the kitchen. You hear him grumble and you roll your eyes the second you hear the door close behind him. "Did you buy these of your own volition, or was it contractually obligated?"

"It was my manager's idea." He says, stuffing his hands in his pocket as he watches you move around the kitchen. You pull a vase down from the top shelf of your cabinet, your black dress riding up just a little bit. You turn to the sink and catch his eyes on your legs.

"Well, tell Pauly I said thank you." You say, ignoring the unexpected attention.

"Don't call him Pauly."

"Why not? He's the only one who showed me an ounce of kindness yesterday."

"We really don't have to do this. Especially if you're gonna act like this."

"If you don't like the way I act, I'm sure we can find someone else who would happily take your place," you say, repeating his words from the day before. His jaw works as he grinds his teeth together, but he stays silent. You cut the stems on the roses and place them in the crystal vase before resting your elbows on the counter. "We need to set some ground rules before we actually start this."

"Ground rules?" He asks

"I don't care if you kiss me, hold my hand, or whatever PDA our team wants. I'm trusting you with that much," you say. You expect him to say something snarky, but he doesn't. He fiddles with his keys in his pocket and nods. "And I don't want you to touch me anywhere inappropriate. In public and in private."

"I wasn't going to."

"Good." You grab your purse off the counter and walk to the front door without anything further. He follows behind you and opens the door before you can even touch the handle and plaster on a sticky sweet smile for the cameras. He walks you to his expensive-looking car and opens the passenger side door for you. You smile and squeeze his bicep.

The car ride is silent except for the low hum of his radio. It's set on a classic rock station, and he taps along to the drum line on his steering wheel. You watch the movement with curious eyes, and he catches you staring. He doesn't seem annoyed, but he doesn't smile at you, either. He just stares at you with his deep brown eyes like he's trying to figure you out. You look away first and mess with the chain of your necklace.

"How long have you been playing music?" You ask.

"We don't have to keep pretending when there are no cameras." He says, his tone suddenly harsh, and you roll your eyes.

"Jesus Christ, all I did was ask you a fucking question."

"My whole life. I've been playin' music my whole life," he finally relents. It's just enough information to satisfy you and just vague enough for him to be comfortable. You're surprised he even answered you. "How long have you been acting?"

"I've been in the industry for about four years now, but I was acting way before that." You say, and he hums. He doesn't follow up with a question, and you decide to quit while you're ahead. When you get to the restaurant, he makes a show of dutifully escorting you inside and giving his keys to the valet. The hostess gives you a hidden table in the back. It's out of earshot of anyone else, and there are lit candles in the middle. It's all very romantic, and you gush about it in front of the host so she has something to report back to news outlets when they find out about this. Joel thanks the host and pulls your chair out for you before he can cross the table. If this was an actual date, he would win major points for having such good manners.

You order a cocktail, and he orders some kind of whiskey before you guys scan the menu in silence. You're debating whether to get the Rissoto or the margarita pizza when Joel's foot bumps yours under the table. You look up and see him glancing at something behind you. You don't have to turn around to know that you two have an audience. You smile and reach for his hand across the table, his calloused palms sliding against yours. He doesn't hesitate to squeeze your hand and bring it to his lips, pressing a sweet kiss to your skin. "That tickles!" You giggle in a high pitch. He laughs, too, and rests your hands back on the table as the waitress comes over with your drinks. She takes your orders before disappearing to the back again, leaving you and Joel alone.

You two move closer and closer together until you're sitting on the same side of the table, your head in your hand as you gaze at him. You have to admit, he's very handsome up close. His salt-and-pepper beard is full except for a few patchy parts that you could find endearing. His nose is prominent and bumpy, and his lips are curled in a crooked smirk. Not to mention the fluffy curls that fall over his forehead just so. You understand why people throw themselves at him. He smiles and puts a hand on your knee as he nurses his drink.

"You're staring," he mumbles, and you scoff.

"I'm supposed to be madly in love with you. I think it's okay," you say so only he can hear, and he shrugs. You slip his drink out of his hand and take a sip, the dark brown liquor burning the whole way down. "What would you rather me do?"

"Where are you from?"

"Twenty questions? That's what you do on a first date?" You ask, and he laughs. For a second, you think it sounds real.

"Humor me, would ya?" His face is relaxed, and his hand is warm on your knee, and it might be the alcohol, but you decide to oblige. You tell him about your hometown, and he actually listens before telling you he's from Texas. You go back and forth even after the food comes out, asking about first loves, college, and even your worst talk show experiences.

"No, I don't believe you for a second!" You say, crossing your arms over your chest.

"You don't have to believe me 'cause it still happened."

"You were hungover when you did that summer concert for the Today Show?"

"Deathly. Even had to get an IV when we got off stage," he says, and you can't help but laugh at the image of him getting hooked up to a saline solution because of how sick he was. "What? What's so funny about that?"

"Everything! Don't you know the cardinal sin of morning talk shows is showing up hungover?"

"I know people who've shown up still drunk."

"Really?" You ask, and he hums. You glance around the restaurant and realize it's mostly empty, and the only people left are you and Joel. You uncross your arms and rest one on the back of his chair, turning to look at something behind you so you can whisper in his ear. "When you see the waitress coming back to the table, kiss me." He turns his head to look around before placing a hand on your jaw and turning your face toward his. His lips are on yours a second later. His mustache scratches you, and he tastes like whiskey and something dangerous. He's gentle and firm, but he doesn't push any boundaries. His hand stays on your face, his fingers grazing the skin of your neck, making your breath hitch. You faintly hear footsteps approach, and Joel turns away from you to look at the bright red waitress. You pretend to be embarrassed about getting caught and hide your face in Joel's shoulder.

"I'm so sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to drop off your bill and let you know that we will be closing soon." She apologizes, but Joel shakes his head and tells her not to worry. He hands her his black debit card without even looking at the bill, and she's off. You smile as you pick your head up and look at him.

"Alright, I have another question for you," you say. He raises his eyebrows like he's telling you to go on, and you glance over your shoulder to make sure nobody's lurking. "Why'd you punch that guy?"

"What guy?"

"The guy that's the whole reason I'm here." You say quietly. A muscle in his jaw jumps as he thinks, but he schools his expression when the waitress returns with his card. He's silent as he signs the bill, leaving a 25% tip, and you bump him under the table to get his attention.

"I'm done playing this game." He snaps, his attitude completely changing. You're taken aback by his response and even more confused when he stands and pulls your chair out for you once more. You stand, and he shrugs out of his jacket to wrap it around your shoulders before escorting you to the front of the restaurant, both of you wishing the staff a good night. Cameras flash, and people yell questions at you the second you two step onto the sidewalk, and you grip Joel's arm as he steers you to the car. You can practically hear E! News gushing about how cute you look together when in reality your picture-perfect date just got ruined.

The entire drive back to your house, he doesn't say anything. You try to say something about how good that went, and you're sure the waitress will have a story to sell to whatever news outlet wants it. He doesn't even acknowledge you. By the time he pulls into your driveway, you're more than annoyed with how childish he's being over a perfectly fair question. It's not like you asked for his Social Security number. You asked a legitimate question about something that happened not even thirty-six hours ago. Hell, his knuckles are still swollen from the force of the punch. The second the car rolls to a stop, you unlock the door and get out.

"Have a good night, Joel." You say, ready to slam the door in his face, but he's already unbuckling his seatbelt.

"Will you, at least, let me walk you to the door?"

"I thought you said we didn't have to keep pretending when there aren't any cameras," you say. You're being a little dramatic, and you'll be the first to admit it, but after the way he acted yesterday, you think you're allowed to. You fish your keys from your purse and walk to your front door. Joel calls your name and you roll your eyes. "Is there a reason you don't like me, or are you just an asshole to everyone?" You ask as you turn to look at him, the arms of his jacket swinging around you.

"Is this because I didn't answer your stupid question?"

"Or because of pretty much everything that led to tonight. The way you talked to me in the office, not answering my question, ignoring me the whole way home when I thought we had a pretty decent night. Do you even realize how fucking frustrating you are?"

"Right back atcha, sweetheart," he says, and you huff as you grip your keys. "Look, I don't wanna do this anymore than you do. The faster we get this over with, the faster I can go back to my life, and you can go back to whatever big wig you had to sleep with to get here." You take two big steps to get in his face, your chests touching as rage rolls through you.

"Let's get one thing fucking clear: I've never slept with anyone to get anywhere. I studied, and I worked shitty jobs, and I went to every audition, and I lost years of my fucking life to be where I am now. I don't care if you think I'm some bitch who puts on dresses and plays pretend for a living, but you will not accuse me of fucking my way to the top. Do you understand me?" Your words are precise and cutthroat and hit right where you want them to as you stare at him. You worked your ass off to get here. You deserve to be here, and you will not let a man like Joel Miller tell you otherwise. Something flickers behind his eyes, and he swallows.

"Yes."

"Good, because if you ever say anything like that to me again, I will ruin your fucking life and have fun doing it," you say. Before you can get one last word in, you catch a pair of tires squealing down your block, and something deep in your chest tells you it's photographers trying to catch a goodnight kiss. Joel seems to have the same thought because he quickly crowds you against your front door, and you let him, despite the burning anger in your chest. You bite the inside of your cheek until you can taste blood. "You better make this worth it, Miller."

His last name gets cut off as he kisses you. This kiss is starkly different from the one at the restaurant. This one is bruising and clashing teeth as his hands splay across your ribs. You're almost sure he can feel your heartbeat through the fabric of your dress. You pull him closer when you hear breaks squeak to a stop and know that the paparazzi are right behind you. His hand slides down your side, past your hip, and encourages your leg up to his hip. He bites at your lip a little too harshly, and you pull at the hair at the nape of his neck, a deep groan rumbling in his chest at the feeling. He dips his head to mouth at your jaw, low enough to look like he's kissing your neck from far away but high enough for you to allow it. His teeth scrape at your pulse, and your body involuntarily arches into him. You think you hear him chuckle as the photographer's car speeds away.

You can imagine how the photos will be captioned in the morning, how they'll all praise what a good couple you already are, and some will even make jokes about how they wish they could be either of us. But this doesn't feel romantic or dreamy like they imagine it does. This feels like war.

#rockstar!joel miller #one for the money two for the show #joel miller drabble #joel miller series #joel miller au #joel miller the last of us #the last of us #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel tlou #the last of us x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller x female reader #the last of us au #tlou au

[ventismacchiato]

16 just playing the part — enemies with benefits !

scaramouche x g!n reader

miscellaneous: i wanted to mention hair in this chapter 😭 i didn’t specify the length or anything but just an fyi yn is not bald in this au 😍‼️ also they don’t fuck i just thought it was a funny title ☠️

You’d arrived before Scaramouche, which you and Xiao shared a laugh on, whilst you drank the smoothie he’d brought you. It was refreshing on your tongue and you had easily drained more than half of it. You and Xiao were currently sitting across from one another, one leg outstretched to prepare yourself for the upcoming workout you would have to go through. Dance was always the most work with productions in your opinion, memorizing lines was far easier.

“How are things with Aether?” you teased, giggling as the bloom of red on Xiao’s cheeks as he grumbled at you.

“Good,” he mutters, “Why, did he say anything?”

“He wants to make it official so hurry your ass up,” you offer, wincing as the cold temperature of the drink. Watching Aether and Xiao dance around one another was getting to be troublesome, your group chat grew accustomed to Aether’s constant complaining on how dense Xiao seemed to be.

Before Xiao could reply the door to the studio opened and in came Scaramouche, tossing his bag to the side and joining you both on the floor, grabbing at the last smoothie left in the carton Xiao had brought.

“Nice of you to join us,” Xiao hums, kicking Scaramouche with his foot.

“At least I’m here,” Scaramouche says back, already draining a quarter of his smoothie, sounding out of breath, “Are we doing this or not?”

“Stretch first,” Xiao huffs, getting up and making his way to the speakers in the back, connecting his phone to it.

“You guys are slow dancing today,” Xiao explains, scrolling through his phone for what you assumed was a playlist, “Don’t be annoying about it.”

You and Scaramouche share a look, narrowing your eyes at one another.

“I won’t, but he might,” you remark, earning yourself an eye roll from Scaramouche. His lips turn up in a smile, which is quickly hidden as he busies himself with stretching.

“Stop stepping on my feet!”

“Stop stepping on my feet!”

“Can you both shut up,” Xiao lectures, separating you both from your pathetic attempt at slow dancing, “Come here.”

Xiao places his hand on your waist and his other in your palm, pulling your body closer as he started explaining the steps out loud for you and Scaramouche to hear.

“One, two, three, four,” he counted, guiding you seamlessly through the choreography, muttering the next step in your ears as he spun you around. The focus on not messing up while dancing with him left you with little to no room to focus on the intimate position you guys were dancing in. But that vanished when Xiao let go and let Scaramouche take his place.

You felt yourself unable to form words, breath stuck in your throat as Scaramouche tugged your body closer to his. It was different than with Xiao, whether it was in a good or bad way was something you couldn’t comprehend.

Xiao started up the song once more and your brain picked up the cue as the note you two were keeping an ear out for played out. Suddenly you were moving, your arms flailing above as Scaramouche guided you through the dance. The grip on your waist tightened as you were lifted into the sweat-stained air, legs pointing out as the room spun around you.

You were back on the ground, feet moving in sync with Scaramouche’s as the two of you moved across the dance floor. Foot forward. Back. To the right.

A hand grabbed your own and you were swung backward, dipped low, the blinding white lights adorning the studio’s ceiling momentarily blinding you as the tip of your hair grazed the wooden floor, Scaramouche’s face mere inches away from yours as your guys’ movements skidded to a stop. The music faded out as both of you were panting, out of breath as Scaramouche pulled you from your dipped position.

“Damn,” Xiao whistled, applauding you both, “There were little to no mistakes in that set, only took you both the entire time slot we had.”

You both hastily let go of each other, averting eye contact as you take in Xiao’s compliment.

Your legs were sore but the only thing you could focus on was the erratic beat of Scaramouche’s heart when his body was pressed up against yours. Was it due to the incessant dancing Xiao put you through…or something else?

You force yourself to get rid of those useless thoughts. How utterly absurd!

just playing the part !

masterlist — prev | next

SORRY IF YOU KNOW HOW TO USE CHOPSTICKS 😭 MY ASIAN ASS STILL CANT FIGURE THEM OUT SO I INCLUDED IT

also i wanted to slide in scara feeding you so ur welcome 🙄

the entire dinner is just you and scara bickering and xiao sighing like a disappointed mother

also i used the wrong xiao account for a tweet ignore that pleek 😇

synopsis: you and scaramouche are both drama majors and have been at each other’s throats vying for the same lead roles since high school. but when you’re both cast as each other’s love interest in your second year you’re forced to be civil with your academic rival and see him in a new light. are his feelings for you true or is he just playing the part?

taglist—CLOSED!!: @monochromaticelliot @kaedear @stxrgxzxr @shirmxie @elakari @lacy-lady @linn-a-a @one-offmind @kithewanderingme @quepasoash @leathernourishingshoepolish @mangobee @lxry-chxn @dameofthorns @scarasaver @kythe1a @elysiasbae @hikaru-exe @tokkishouse @raiihoshii @cherrybeomgyu @kunikuzushiit @thenightsflower @lilneps @goodthingimsam @lovelyiez @euhla @beriiov @abvolat @kittycasie @b0bafl0wer @bubblyclouds @atlatcaheart @artssleepy @baelloraa @tartagli-yuh @satowaluverr @hangesextra @scaranaris-lil-niko @caffinatedcoma @wheneverthesunrise @hajimeseyo @itsyourgirlria @hyunrei @redactedhimbo @caliginous-skies @vinskyspuff @miissfortune @criminalinthemaking @scaramouches-girlfriend

author’s note: i don’t think anyone reads these endnotes but i am updating this smau a lot to cope with the fact irl college is not the dream like wdym i have ten assignments due at 11:59 bffr 🧌 pls tell me ur thoughts in asks, rbs, or comments i love reading them yall r funny 😭🫶

#genshin imagines #genshin fluff #genshin impact #genshin impact au #genshin au #genshin impact smau #genshin drabbles #genshin headcanons #scaramouche drabble #scaramouche smau #scaramouche x gender neutral reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x oc #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you #kunikuzushi smau #kunikuzushi x you #kunikuzushi x reader #genshin impact scaramouche #just playing the part smau

[changingplumbob]

Romero Household: Chapter 1, Part 6

🎵🎶We're going to the chapel and we're, gonna get married 🎵🎶

Formal photos in the next part, this was all about the ceremony.

Marta’s first language is Spanish so she is teaching Keira (and me) some common Spanish words/phrases Abuelo/Abuela: Grandfather/Grandmother Buenas tardes : Good afternoon Carino: Term of endearment for a loved one Lo siento: Sorry Mi familia: My family Padre: Father Te amo: I love you

Wednesday starts off grey and rainy. Marta is determined to have her barista shift before the wedding, but Keira already has Wednesdays off work. After checking what she can harvest she decides to spend some time at the rec centre working on her handiness. She needs to level up in logic and handiness for her next promotion and some mean watcher has made skill gain harder since her last rotation. When more sims arrive she gets tense and leaves, can’t be too early to her own wedding.

Keira: It’s sunny! Oh thank the watcher

Joey: You alright

Keira: It was pouring in San Sequoia, I was certain we wouldn’t be able to get any photos after the ceremony

Joey: *laughs* different places, different weather. Or maybe the watcher just cheated it (I didn't Joey what are you implying?) Okay, you ready to sign your life away

Keira: *laughs* You would say it like that. Come on, I still need to get in my dress

The wedding gets underway with Harvey escorting Keira up the aisle.

Harvey: *sniffles*

Keira: Dad... are you crying

Harvey: You used to practice your bride walk around the house when you were a kid, now look at you

Keira: *laughs* I remember

Harvey: I'm so happy for you Keira

Keira: Look dad, everyone got here without problems. That’s got to be a good sign

Harvey: Yes, let’s hope it lasts. I want you to have the wedding of your dreams

Keira: If my bride shows up then that is what I’ll have

Harvey: I’ll leave you here then. Very good luck my darling. I’ll go collect your bride. Remember, no peeking

Keira: *laughs* she has made me promise not to look early

Harvey: See you soon

And so Harvey heads back down the aisle to where Marta has entered the church. She has no sims to give her away so the couple decided it would be nice for Harvey to escort both brides.

Harvey: Are you ready Marta

Marta: *sniffles* I’m so ready to be married to your daughter *smiles*

Harvey: Hey now, we better get you up there before you wash away

They wait until the music cue then Harvey and Marta begin the journey up the aisle.

Slowly they walk down the aisle and Keira can feel her nerves increase. She wants to turn before Marta is there but knows today is about promises. She needs to let Marta know she’ll respect her wishes. So Keira waits with baited breath as she hears people in the church murmur, clearly impressed with something.

Marta: Oh Harvey, you talk of me washing away. You might wash with me

Harvey: *sniffles* I’m fine. I’m just so... so... happy

Marta: Me to

They approach the altar and Harvey releases Marta, returning to his seat sniffling away. Marta tiptoes and taps Keira on the shoulder.

Marta: Carino, I’m here, you can turn now

Keira turns and is mesmerised. She knows Marta is a beautiful woman but the person in front of her takes her breath away. Marta looks angelic with her hair cascading over her shoulder and seems to be radiating love.

Marta: *whispers* Buenas tardes carino

Keira: Hola sweetheart. Watcher you look… gorgeous *sniffles*

Marta: *giggles* That was the effect I was going for. You are beautiful, I knew you’d look even better than I imagined

Keira: *sniffles* Want to get married

Marta: With my whole heart

The officiant steps up and the group sing a few hymns before the vows get underway. Keira is up first.

Keira: Sweetheart, I can still remember the first time I saw you. I was supposed to be studying for some test or other and into the music room below walked one of the prettiest women I have ever seen. You seemed nervous, as we now know that was because you were breaking in

At this line the crowd lets out a quiet chuckle and Marta sniffles.

Keira: When you sang it was like you became larger than life. I couldn’t hear all the way up there but I wanted to. You became my favourite show, and meeting you was better than any season premiere. I have always dreamed of finding my soulmate, my partner in life, and sweetheart *sniffles* in my wildest dreams I couldn’t have imagined someone as real... and perfect for me... as you

Marta lets out a small sob and Keira leans forwards to wipe the tear away.

Keira: Te amo. I understand now why Anakin turned the galaxy upside down for Padme and why Mal couldn’t stop himself standing up for Inara. Your love helps me be the best version of myself. One that takes risks, one that doesn’t run from challenges, and one that is absolutely completely in love with you

Marta: *sniffles* carino

Keira: Life with you has become my favourite saga, one that I hope will carry on for years to come. Your courage inspires me *sniffles* and your heart is where I feel safe. I am so excited to find out what life has in store for us. I’m not afraid of it because I know, come what may, I need only look to my side and you’ll be there

Marta: *sniffles* Lo siento, I just need a handkerchief

The crowd lets out a collective giggle and sniffle as Keira helps Marta dab away some of the pools under her eyes.

Marta: My turn. Carino *clears throat* I was returning to life when I met you. Somehow you made all the mantras I repeated to myself real. Suddenly I did feel worthy... and strong... and that *sniffles* I am enough. For so long I only saw what was wrong with me but getting to know you, seeing how hesitant you were to claim your strengths when I wanted to shout them from the rooftops... it showed me I needed to embrace all of me. You make me proud. Proud to be me and to have won your heart.

Marta: Before you, life was a song I could never figure out the tune of with the melodies and bridges throwing me off track. I know now why I was never in sync. My life was always meant to be a duet, one of me and you *sniffles* and I am so happy to be promising my forever to you

Keira: *mouthing* I love you

Marta: *sniffles* My abuela and abuelo were followed quickly to the forever save by my padre and mama but... in this church I feel they are with us, and I know in my heart they all would love you. Ma familia, if you can hear me, know I am the happiest I have ever been. Carino, I feel as though the watcher sculpted us for each other, and every day I give thanks for finding you, and you loving me. You will always be my favourite song, the one I cannot get out of my head

Keira takes the first ring from Joey and holds it over Marta’s finger.

Keira: I, Keira Foster, take you, Marta Aymee Romero, to be my watcherly wed wife. I solemnly swear I shall be your best friend, your shelter in a tempest and the wind in your wings. In front of our familia, our friends, and the watcher, I promise to love and cherish you, for as long as our souls exist. Te amo sweetheart

With her vows complete Keira slides Marta’s ring on, feeling so happy she’s sure she’ll explode.

Marta wipes some more tears and does her best to compose herself, taking Keira's ring from Alexander.

Marta: I, Marta Aymee Romero, take you, Keira Foster, to be my watcherly wed wife. I solemnly swear I shall be your best friend, your shelter in a tempest and the wind in your wings. In front of our familia, our friends, and the watcher, I promise to love and cherish you, for as long as our souls exist. Te amo carino

The brides can’t take their eyes off each other and the rest of the service is a blur.

Officiant: By the power invested in me by the watcher I now pronounce you, wife and wife

Keira sweeps Marta into her arms, dipping her low before pulling her in for a kiss. The church erupts in cheers but the two women hardly notice it, they’re full of love.

Previous ... Next

#sims 4 #the sims #the sims 4 #simblr #my sims #ChangingPlumbobStorytime #R0903 #KeiraFoster #JoeyYork #HarveyFoster #MartaRomero #KeiraRomero

[marvel-starwarsfangirl]

Episode 9 "The Harbinger" Review

Ah Jennifer, Jennifer, Jennifer... you love to watch us get all worked up don't you? But in all seriousness, I really enjoyed this episode. It's so beautifully animated and scored. I need the Kiners to drop the OST asap because man was the music stunning. (This episode also further proves that Echo clearly was the braincell of the group and I'm cackling).

As always, spoilers below:

BEHOLD! THE RETURN OF OUR QUEEN VENTRESS! I loved how she was utilized. I was surprised to see her actually be there on Pabu, but it makes sense since Fennec told her to find them. However, I am wondering how she did find Pabu. My guess is that Ventress was given Hunter's photo and meditated with it until she felt his presence... somewhere. Or she knew a guy who knew a guy who knew Phee. Everything from Ventress' design to voice acting was perfection. The animators really popped off with her Dark Disciple look. But, how did she survive? Nightsister magic? There's probably some explanation, but it'll be left ambiguous for reasons.

Her relationship with Omega was very well done. She's changed so much since her first appearance in CW. I liked the balance between her ability to still kick butt while also being a good person at heart as shown with Omega. She doesn't kill the Batch even though they got defensive (and I understand why they did). The scene where she calms the giant kraken-like creature was so so good. It's a nice way of showing how Ventress has found the light with the Force. Her line about being on a side of her own was also good and pretty much sums up her character perfectly. She's neither dark nor light, she's just right.

It's also obvious from the title that she's the harbinger. Harbingers are people that herald the approach of someone or danger. For the Batch, she's a harbinger of doom. That doesn't mean she herself brings the danger, but she tells them that their time is up. Repeatedly, she tells the Batch that they aren't safe even on Pabu. Which means that Pabu is gonna go down next week *cue sad yaying*. Even the lighting this episode signified doom. Pabu is shrouded in fog and the only light we see is from a sunset, indicating the end of the Batch's peace and safety.

Speaking of the Batch, they really do share one braincell and even then, it's usually with Echo. It's so awesome to see them work together again in combat. And we got to hear their theme again!! It was so triumphant and such a great moment! I know we'll hear it again, but this was such a good moment. I love that most of their moments were them just watching out for Omega. I know we all joke about the Jango Fett Mandalorian dad genes, but it's so true. Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair love their sister so much. Every time Cross was like "we're not handing her over," I got excited. Omega aside, the smaller moments like Wrecker teasing Crosshair or Wrecker mimicking his brothers were gold.

My favorite moment with the three was when Crosshair threw Hunter and Wrecker's weapons to them. The music went hard and the camaraderie between them is so heartfelt. These brothers will always have each others' backs. (Also, this is the first time we hear Cross call Tech by his name. Tech is still with them, even if it's in their hearts).

And of course there's our sweet bean, Omega. Next week will definitely be about her conflicted over the possibility of being Force Sensitive. It breaks my heart to see her so lost and confused. The Batch can try and help, but they're so out of their depth. I honestly think Omega will go back to Tantiss simply to see if she is capable of using the Force. There are so many questions about her identity. Why was she created? Why is she so important? I know a lot of people now think that she will off with Ventress in the finale if we do get a confirmation that she is force sensitive. Honestly, I hope she stays with her brothers. If they kill the Batch off, then I can see the Ventress end working, but I really hope that's not the case.

I wonder how the Empire will find Pabu. They could get really lucky, find a bounty hunter to track them, or even have a brainwashed Tech. I know the theory about Cross having a tracker or something was popular, but if that was true, then the Empire would've already descended upon them. Maybe Palpatine finds them through the Force; that I would believe. Either way, it will be very angsty and Pabu is doomed. But what do you guys think?

Anyways, that's all I have for now. Let's all prepare mentally for next week. Our little family is gonna need all the therapy and support they can get.

#star wars #the bad batch #tbb crosshair #tbb hunter #tbb wrecker #tbb omega #asajj ventress #tbb spoilers

[l0serloki]

okay so i was thinking how valo agents are where they’re kid is now more older like 3-8 years old, idk but the thought of it is so??😖😖

Valorant Parent Headcanons

(Chamber, Reyna, Sova, Viper)

CW : GN!Reader, uhhh viper being a bad bitch as she should

A/N : YOU ARE SO RIGHT. I love soft family valorant agents <3 

ALSO K/N is kids name!!

Chamber : 

He’s the type of dad to enroll his kid in every sport or music class

‘K/N has to learn about the world! They’ll find a great hobby’

100% makes coffee and breakfast in the morning and reads the paper while his kid cries (we love the robe mom chamber look)

He makes time to go to every school recital and records it no matter how long it is

‘Our kid is so perfect Y/N. They get it from me’ (cue you punching him)

He spoils the kid rotten, taking you all on family trips

You walked into the kitchen to see your loving husband sipping away at his coffee as your children screamed. “Vincent, really?” You sighed making your way over to the twins. “It is fine, my love. Let them get it out and they’ll stop.” You loved the man but you didn’t know how he stood the noise.

“Hey kiddos, let’s calm down. Breakfast is made and we have to get ready for school.” The kids calmed down, leaning into your touch. You sat them at the table, placing their trays in front of them. Your son began talking about his violin lessons and how he had learned a new song. 

Chamber hummed, smiling at his little prodigy. “You will have to show me later. I am excited to see your progress.” He smiled towards the boy while your daughter pulled at his arm. “You too K/N, you are just as talented.” He kissed her head, picking up the dirty plates. “Have a good day at school, you two. Be nice to Y/N.” 

Reyna : 

She’s the aggressive soccer mom 100%

‘Touch my kid and you’re dead’

She would be the mom to pick up her kid from school when they got in trouble and be proud of them

‘Your kid threw a chair at another student’ ‘Good’ headass

She will hang up any drawings on the fridge and always be proud of her child

“Y/N, come here. Look at what our daughter drew. She is so talented.” Reyna’s voice sounded out as you walked into the backyard. Your wife stood smiling with a scribbled piece of paper in hand. Your daughter sat beside her, face gleaming with pride. “That’s right! I drew it.” Your daughter shot a finger gun and you could only laugh.

“Wow, this looks amazing. We have an artist in the family!” You leaned down to give Reyna a kiss, your daughter screeching. “EW, that’s gross! Stoooop.” The two of you laughed as you kissed her on the head. You loved your little family.

Sova : 

He’s such a soft dad

He will read stories to the kids to put them to bed (sometimes falling asleep himself)

Buys them little stuffed animals and trinkets whenever he has to travel for work

Your kid made him a bracelet at camp and he hasn’t taken it off since (it’s his good luck charm)

Sits and watches any disney movie for the 100th time with your kid because it makes them happy

“Papa, you kinda look like Ariel.” Your daughter spoke, making you laugh at the thought. “Ariel? You mean Eric?” Sova asked and she shook her head. “You both have long pretty hair! I think you are a mermaid, Papa.” He turned to meet your hues, confusion on his face. Your body shook as you continued to chuckle at the situation. 

“Right? He looks like Ariel.” You could only hum in agreement to your daughter. “He really does. My little princess.” You kissed Sova’s cheek as your daughter rested her head against your leg. Precious moments like these meant the world to you.

Viper : 

Bad bitch mom fr

She will curbstomp someone if they cut in line of the daycare check-in

‘Maybe learn some manners before you cut.’

She makes sure to always be there to support you and the kid, buying whatever you need (sugar mama viper)

‘I got the groceries and some toys for K/N.’ ‘You just got them a toy last week.’ ‘Oh.’

She likes doing little science experiments with your kid (like the volcano one that I feel like everyone does)

She loves taking you out to little theater shows or simple dates like ice skating

Your son screamed as Viper shoveled him in the car.

“K/N, would you stop? I told you I am going to get your toy! Just wait here.” Viper sighed as she made her way into the house to look for said toy. All three of you were going out to dinner and ice-skating. Viper said it would be a “Good family excursion and memory for K/N”. You agreed with her but K/N was not having a good time even buckling up. 

Finally after what felt like an endless abyss of tantrums, K/N calmed down and you all arrived. “K/N, are you ready to go skating? There’s pretty lights too.” Viper cooed as she helped your kid out of the baby seat. The two of you held onto your son's hand as you walked to the rink, happy to finally be out of the house. Viper was right, today would be a day to remember.

#valorant chamber #chamber #chamber valorant #chamber x reader #chamber x reader fluff #vincent fabron #valorant sova #sova x reader fluff #sova x reader #sova valorant #sova #reyna valorant #reyna x reader #reyna x you #reyna x reader fluff #viper x you #viper x reader #viper #valorant viper #valorant x reader #valorant x you #valorant #valorant imagines #valorant headcanons

[dingochef]

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x You (OFC)

Warnings: Swearing, Smut (MDNI 18+ Only), Angst with a Happy Ending, Stalking, P in V, oral (female and male receiving), Semi-public sex, light spanking,

Word Count 2.0k

Summary: Phoenix is convinced Jake is in love with you and Rooster reveals an earth shattering truth. (Here comes the angst, find your emotional support aviator.)

Masterlist

Chapter 10

Chapter 11: Burning In

“Shit, my squadron is here.”

Jake looks slightly panicked in the parking lot of the Hard Deck. He leans out to see through the windows to where the pool table is. Inside is the group of people who you recognize from that first night.

“Is that a problem? Embarrassed to be seen with me?” you joke.

Jake seems nervous and replies, “You are not the issue, I’m proud as hell to have you on my arm. It’s just those asshats aren’t going to play nice because it’s me.”

"I can handle myself, Jake. You all people should know that.”

He grins and shrugs,

“Touche, alright let’s go in and face the music.”

Taking his hand you walk in and join the group already at the pool table. You remember names like Coyote, Fanboy, and Payback, but you can't match anyone to their call sign right away except Phoenix. As the only woman in the group she’s easy to remember. Rooster is there also, no one can forget that mustache. You remember that Lydia is out of town this weekend for a work conference so you won't be seeing her around the Hard Deck tonight. Jake reintroduces them all in quick order, enough for you to slightly remember their names. Bob is the only missing from the original group and you bet that he's with Beth somewhere.

“I’ll go grab drinks, your usual? I’ll get some fish tacos ordered too, hun,” Jake asks and you nod in agreement. He then starts to walk over to the bar. He is no more than 10 feet away you when Rooster advances.

“So, Elsa, can I call you Ice Queen?” he asks with a smirk, he leaning over you a bit, using his height to tower above you.

You take a step back to look Rooster in the eye.

“I wouldn’t recommend it if you value the current location of your balls,” you say demurely through your eyelashes. Phoenix barks out a delighted laugh, from where she is lining up her next pool shot, and says,

“Oh sweetie, you’re going to fit in just fine.”

Rooster jumps back into the conversation and says,

“Feisty, I can work with that."

He takes a swig of his beer and leans in again, apparently his lack of personal space applies to everyone.

"So tell us, just how good is Hangman in the sack for you to put up with him outside the bedroom?” he asks, smirk on display.

“Who says it stays in the bedroom? I’m a lady and I don’t kiss and tell, but I can tell you that I am a very, very, very, satisfied woman,” you reply.

A very abrupt, “Rooster!" comes from the direction of the bar as Jake returns with your drinks.

"Just because yours is out of town and fucking range, doesn’t give you the right to move in on mine,” Jake barks as he gets back with your drinks. He puts them down on the small hightop next to you and stands behind you in an obvious territorial move, his hand on your hip.

“Honey,” you lean back and reach up to pat his cheek, “You don’t have to worry about a thing, I’m not really into guys with half a dead rodent on their upper lip.”

Rooster twitches his mustache and shrugs,

“Your loss, baby girl."

Jake looks satisfied with the retort and gives you a kiss on the cheek.

"Mind if I play a round, babe?" he asks, pointing to the pool table. "Perfectly fine with me," you reply. Rooster takes the opportunity to needle Jake,

"We'll take good care of her, Hangman, don't worry about a thing."

Jake narrows his eyes at Rooster as he grabs his beer and a cue stick to join the next game. Phoenix rolls her eyes at their display, you have the feeling it is a constant back and forth between Rooster and Jake.

"Elsa and I will be fine without you Jake, now leave us alone so we can have some girl time," Phoenix says, dismissively waving her hand at Jake in a "Go Play" gesture. You nod at Jake to let him know you're fine and he nods in return as he grabs his beer and the cue stick from Phoenix.

Phoenix leans against the wall next to you and you start the conversation,

“It's good to see the token woman of the group again,” you say.

She laughs and you continue, “Coming from the usual token woman in the room at work.” You clink each other's glasses on solidarity.

“What do you do?” she asks, taking a sip of her cocktail, a vodka and cranberry it looks like.

“I work for Lockheed Martin, mostly projects out of the Skunk Works in Bakersfield. I'm an aerospace engineer.”

“Cool, I gotta say, you’re a little different than the girls Hangman usually has around.”

“You mean someone with an IQ bigger than their bra size?,” she snickers and nods, "I gathered that.”

“We didn’t think he’d actually have the guts to go after you again after that epic crash and burn you gave him. He is way too much a vain asshole to take an ego bruising like that and stay interested. Whatever you’re about he is very much into.” she says.

Jake looks up from the pool game at the moment to catch your eye and you smile back to see a wide grin bloom on his face before he turns his attention back to the pool game.

Phoenix watches the interaction, a wry smile on her face.

“He is so into you and it looks like it's mutual. I’ve got to ask, what happens when this mission is over?” she asks.

You sigh,

“I wish I knew, I know he’s only here for another week or two, so I’m just trying to have some fun while he’s around. Nothing serious.”

Phoenix snorts.

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that. I’ve flown with Hangman for a good 10 years now and he has never talked about a girl as much as he has you. Sometimes he can’t remember a hook up’s name. He’s my wingman and I can tell you he is L-O-V-E.”

Phoenix's declaration brings the feelings and thoughts you had let fade into the background from earlier up to the forefront of your brain.

“Well, I’m keeping it light for both of us. He’s fun to hang around with, sexy as hell, and can cook like a master chef. What more do you need in a fuck buddy?” you say, almost trying to convince yourself that it's still only physical.

Jake approaches you from behind and you startle at his sudden presence. You think he heard your last sentence and is thinking about it before he brushes it aside and asks,

“What awful things is Phoenix telling you about me? I can attest only half of them are true.”

Phoenix tells a few stories, nothing too damning or salacious, about Jake's antics in flight school and their past deployments.

Your dinner arrives and you take a break to eat some of the best fish tacos in San Diego before returning back to the group. You float in and out of the group talking with the others as Jake plays another pool game.

Rooster rotates out of the game and comes to lean up against the wall next to you. He's silent for a few minutes, slowly sipping on his beer. You're not really bothered to start a conversation.

“So, you’re literally a rocket scientist?” he asks, finally breaking the silence.

“No, I just play one on tv,” you respond. He snorts his beer slightly and you continue,

“An aerospace engineer to be more exact, my last job I was a rocket engineer, but never a scientist.”

He laughs and says,

“It just doesn’t register, from what Lydia has told me about you and what I know about Hangman, you must have a secret thing for assholes.”

“Why does everybody keep saying that? I’m starting to get a Dr Jekyl Mr Hyde vibe here.”

Rooster leans over and says, his eyes deadly serious,

“Because he is an asshole, he's a smug, arrogant, selfish, brat who is so high on himself that he can’t see past his ego to be a team player. And up there," he points upward, jamming his index finger skyward,

"It is a life and death scenario. That’s what I see and know of him; flying a fighter jet like we do cuts to the true character of who a person is. I don’t know if he’s been playing loverboy to you perfectly to win the bet or if his heart has actually grown three sizes that day.”

“Wait, what bet?” you ask, your blood starting to run cold. A sickly sweet smile forms on Rooster's face, one you'd imagine on the Devil making a bargain with you.

“Hah, didn’t think he had told you. When you left that first night we all bet $500 he couldn’t get his way into your bed in a week. Had to pay up on that one when Phoenix smelled the strawberry shampoo and he didn’t come home that one night.”

Time starts to move slowly as you comprehend his words,

“There was a fucking bet to see if he could bag me like some fucking trophy?”

Rooster is looking satisfied,

“Yup, and I don’t think this is the rom-com where he actually falls in love sweetheart, sorry to break it to you.” He walks away with a light swagger in his step.

The information Rooster has just told you overwhelms every part of your brain as you try to process it. You're on the edge of losing it and you catch Phoenix’s eye and say to her,

“Umm, come to the bathroom with me.”

She sees the panic in your face and follows you quickly.

You hear the usual jokes about girls going to the bathroom in packs as you walk away. As soon as the door swings shut, you ask her with deadly seriousness,

“Phoenix, I know you’re a straight shooter and won’t lie directly to me. Was there a bet to see if Jake could get into my pants? “

She sighs and pinches her nose,

“You’re right I won’t lie to you, but know that everything else I said out there was the God’s honest truth. Yes, there was a bet. But he technically won it that day I smelled your shampoo on him in training. If you were just a conquest, he wouldn’t have stuck around, he sure as hell wouldn’t have cooked you his nonna’s secret recipe, and he wouldn’t have put in nearly the effort he has with you. I think it's the real deal, but you’re going to have to ask him that.”

You start to feel the tears forming and you take a deep breath and blink them back like you've practiced so many times before. You turn to leave the bathroom, and Phoenix calls out,

"He didn't take the money, if that means anything to you, Elsa."

You shake your head and walk out of the bathroom and see Jake has Rooster pinned against the wall with a pool cue and is screaming,

“You told her that? What kind of psycho are you? For once in my life I find something worth holding onto and you deliberately go and shit on that.”

He drops the pool cue on the table and stabs Rooster in the chest with his finger,

“You better watch your ass up there.”

He turns to see you and can tell that his house of cards is tumbling down. The warmth you had thinking of Jake in your chest has now just dulled to a cold hard weight. You catch his eyes one last time and turn to leave, pushing the door open into the cool night. You start walking home as the tears start to fall. At the edge of the parking lot you hear Jake call out,

"Elsa! Talk to me please, baby. Elsa!"

Your only acknowledgement that you hear him is to raise your middle finger to him and keep walking. Phoenix is holding him back and telling him,

"She's going to want space to think. I know you want to run after her, dude, but she will eat you alive and you'll kill any chance you have. Give her some time."

You snort with the thought Phoenix is the smartest out of that whole group.

It takes the usual few minutes to get home. You unlock your door and step inside, shut the door, lean against it and cry. You're angry at Jake, but mostly you're angry at yourself for letting him worm his way and not keeping him at arm's length like your gut told you. From letting yourself get in so deep that you were starting to develop feelings for him. You haul yourself off to bed and pass out from the overwhelming exhaustion of having your world tilted on its axis.

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered

Chapter 12

@mayhemmanaged

@callmemana

@dempy

@hangmanscoming

@lanie-k

@callsign-viper

@senjoritanana

@djs8891

@atarmychick007

#top gun maverick #hangman fanfiction #hangman #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x you #jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin fanfiction #top gun fanfiction #jake seresin x you #top gun smut

[brabe]

The Anatomy of the Bar Scene

the more i think about it, the more i’m leaning towards them being ex-something rather than them only ever having been on the cusp of it.

and the way hangman sets the scene has me in a fit. how it screams SCORNED LOVER from the top of the mountains.

the way he sees that rooster is here now at last, because of course he is—no one has ever believed in rooster more than hangman, that’s kind of the problem—and sneaks to the jukebox to select just the right soundtrack for his grand entrance. the song choice. the fact that he is so dramatic about it that he feels the need to announce his presence via song in the first place. an honest to god sex song. 'slow ride, take it easy. slow down, go down, got to get your lovin' one more time. hold me, roll me, slow ridin' woman you're so fine. i'm in the mood, the rhythm is right, move to the music, we can roll all night'. how he selects nr. 86 without a second of hesitation, muscle memory, like this song speaks of history between them, an echo of a long-standing inside joke recalling once-upon-a-time familiarity and intimacy.

rooster looks up before hangman even calls his name. he hears the opening riff, and already knows what’s about to go down, could do this song and dance with his eyes closed and his shoestrings tied up together.

now god help him, hangman is going to play this cool as a cucumber. you know when you have a chance encounter with your ex whom you are absolutely, 100%, no questions asked over (shut up, you are), and you are going to make it extremely loud and spectacularly clear how you are doing swimmingly, thanks for asking, and how they are sorely missing out.

thing is, rooster still looks like a fucking million bucks, all golden and glowing. heads turning like on a string as he struts in like he owns the place by birthright, like everything until now was just the supporting act to his one-man show, hawaiian print and aviators like limelights on a background of khaki. impossible to miss, impossible to look away from. like maybe he too carefully curated his stage entrance, fashionably late and effortlessly cool as can be.  

gain the home turf. the best defense is a good offense. one-up. one-up. one-up. 

thing is, hangman is just a man, after all, and a few beers deep to boot, and god help him, but he still looks at rooster like he wants to eat him alive, because he does, can’t imagine ever not wanting. lip bite.

like an apex predator establishing eye contact with its prey (who is who, though?), he prowls in, swipes bob’s cue stick, bends himself over the pool table, takes the shot blind looking up at rooster from underneath his eyelashes. the kicker is that he wasn’t even in the game. earlier when hangman left to order more beers phoenix said, ‘rack ‘em’ to bob as they started a new game. he just dive-bombs in, putting on his own little one-man show for his one-man audience.  

‘bradshaw, as i live and breathe.’ bradshaw, not rooster and definitely not bradley. distance. so here we are after all, after everything. ball in your court.

‘hangman, you look...good.’ rooster blatantly checks him out right back, always looking back, hasn’t even the decency to be subtle about it. tone lock, missile shot and landed. and hangman takes a split second to absorb the hit and recalibrate because rooster was supposed to take the bait for what it was, wasn’t supposed to be nice, how dare he? he has no right to say that, not anymore, by his own doing.  

‘well, i am good, rooster. i’m very good [bats his eyelashes]. in fact, i’m too good to be true.’ nailed it. or something. i like to think that hangman internally cringed at that final line, god that was cheesy, talk about acting so chill it circles right back to supremely unchill, transparent, chink in the armour.

rooster shakes his head, holds back a half grin, and looks over to phoenix like, ‘can you believe him?’ but it’s half exasperated and half, dare i say, fond. like, there he is, as insufferably and maddeningly wonderful as always. and phoenix knows enough, not everything, but about there being something to know in the first place. it’s been two minutes tops and now the whole detachment does as well. cue payback, ‘sooo...’

and let’s talk coyote and phoenix for a moment. their entire earlier interaction, but especially that little pointed, ‘hey, coyote.’ / ‘hey.’ how it screams of ‘we used to hang out because our best friends were dating, but the breakup was messy, and we loyally took to each side of the divorce. for the public record my best friend is totally in the right and yours a total asshole.’

thing is, the back and fort still flows between hangman and rooster too much like foreplay, like it doesn’t know how to be anything else. too close to slipping into jake and bradley’s territory for comfort. they were always so good at this.  

so hangman doubles down, and keeps figuratively shooting spitballs at the back of rooster’s head from the back of the classroom until he’s going to take the damn bait. drop the niceties and let the temper aflame. hangman got it down to an art after all. more peacocking, more bending over the pool table, more holding eye contact while slighting his leadership prowess and smiling condescendingly as he does so. BINGO.

and rooster does try, looks to the side like, ‘i know you. i know what you’re doing.’

but oh well, here goes nothing.  

rooster looks down, charges up. ‘hangman, the only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave.’ rooster looks back up and half the destructive force of this hit comes from his eyes, from his closed-off stare locked onto hangman, devoid of any lingering warmth now.  

trying and keeping up with you and all of your crazy, in the air, or otherwise, will drive a man insane. he would know.

coyote obviously hears it too. the look on his face is a whole picture. he looks seconds away from leaping over the pool table and making rooster regret all of his life’s choices that led him to this very moment. he’s saved by the bell by fanboy’s whooping that redirects coyote’s death glare momentarily. the camera pans to phoenix, who for all intents and purposes is on rooster’s side of the feud, and whose expression clearly reads, ‘well, fuck’. she doesn’t know the whole story, not like coyote does, rooster not one to kiss and tell. payback in the background obviously asking himself, again, whichever soap opera did he just walk into.

direct hit. hangman is frozen in place for a moment too long, his shark-like smirk brittle. it’s just his luck that his whole life has been one decades-long exercise in breaking down and building himself back up in the blink of an eye, blink-and-you'll-miss-it, like you’re supposed to. but bradley never looked away (until he did, at least), and it’s a daunting process he’s witnessed too many times. it never fails to be heartbreaking, seeing hangman emerge on the other side with a new shiny layer to his glamour.

there it is, hotheaded bradshaw, making it too damn easy to firmly put the gilded armour back into place. they were even better at this; shooting to kill, almost like their lives depended on it.

hangman short of barrels into phoenix on his way to deliver his own fatal blow, almost daring her to intervene in defense of her wingman.

hangman completes his prowl, the cutting edge of his smirk more lethal close range, closer than he’s been in years, ‘anyone who follows you is just gonna...run out of fuel,’ hangman looks down, charges up, locks him in his chilling stare, ‘but that’s just you, ain’t it, rooster? you’re snug on that perch. waiting for the right moment...that never comes.’

trying and waiting for you to catch up, to take the next step, to take that leap of faith, in the air, or otherwise, will be a man’s downfall. he would know. 

‘i love this song.’ a final acknowledgement of everything that was, a parting dare.

coyote looks as smug as he looked outraged before. he was there picking up the pieces in the destruction of the aftermath. his best friend surviving once more, albeit coming too close for comfort.

direct hit. and rooster just sits back and takes it. his whole demeanor changes and subdues. he knows that hangman got him there, and he walked right into that one, has nothing to say for himself. he has this strained fixed little smile, he is nodding along minutely like, 'so are you really going there...fair enough.’ he looks down at hangman's lips when he gets too close, closer than he’s been in years, because he’s just a man, and he still hasn’t ever wanted anyone more. he’s effectively stunned into silence. the fortifying little sigh he takes after hangman makes his exit and leaves him planted there like, 'shit. he went there alright. it's been years, why does it still hit bullseye?' (he knows why). that deflated, resigned, 'nope, sure hasn't' and then the 10-hour long stare watching him walk away.

how the turntables.

#hangster #hangman x rooster #top gun: maverick #top gun #olivia rodrigo's good 4 u was blasting inside hangman's head the whole time #the anatomy of their microexpressions!!!!! #i've replayed this scene ad infinitum till it felt like a fever dream #miles and glen literally invented YEARNING

[fritz-federleicht]

hey! i really love your slipknot fics/headcanons and i was wondering if i could get some headcanons for mick, joey and paul of what they’d be like dating a girl that’s in a band similar to babymetal? like very cutesy but also kinda brutal. no worries if you don’t want to! <3

... with a girlfriend who is sweet but also 'brutal' (Joey, Paul, Mick & Corey)

Notes: I've added Corey because I love this man so much it's unbelievable

Words: 947

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

JOEY:

- he often accompanies you to video shoots

- when you go to him styled he always compliments you

- "Wow you look like an angel." You wear a short white dress, similar to a wedding dress

- while you stand in front of a wall with your band's logo emblazoned on it, Joey sits down on a chair with your name on it

- the music starts playing, you walk slowly to the microphone, you look at the ground

- only when your cue comes, you look directly into the camera and go from singing to yelling

- Joey nods his head to the beat of the music, his face contorted in appreciation

- After the scene is over Joey comes up to you with his arms outstretched, "That sounded wonderful doll." He kisses the top of your head

- "Thanks." You mumble against his shoulder

- after the video shoot your band has a fan meeting

- you wear a sweater from your merch

- people line up to take pictures with you, talk to you or ask for your autograph

- of course you are as nice as possible to everyone

- you say goodbye to a fan and turn around to greet a new fan, but in front of you is Joey

- "Hello beautiful lady, may I ask for a selfie?" He asks you with a grin

- "Of course beautiful man." Joey stands next to you and raises his phone in front of him

- "Smile." You smile and press a kiss to his cheek

- Joey blushes. He looks at the photo he snapped. "Cute." He says and says goodbye to you with a kiss. "See ya later."

PAUL:

- he loves this contrast between your innocent looks and your brutal music

- at every gig you wear a different outfit (for example a short skirt with a crop top), he loves every one of them

- when you start screaming into the mic, Paul can't help but adore you

- he stands at the side of the stage, hearts in his eyes and tells everyone that you're a couple

- when the concert is over you go to him, he greets you with a kiss and assures you with a smile that you have an angel voice, which you laugh at

- after you have changed your clothes you make your way to your hotel room

- once there you lie cuddled together in bed

- "I'm amazed every time how someone so cute can be so scary at the same time."

- you smile at him, "It's just like you, you're also sweet and at the same time in a scary band."

- he replied, "You're also really gorgeous.... I just love your brutal side."

- he smiles at you mischievously and winks at you

- you punch him on the arm, "I can show this side more often."

- "Oh yes please." He replies. You just shake your head

MICK:

- you want to leave the house to go to rehearsals

- before you can open the door a big shadow falls on you

- you turn around with a crooked grin

- in front of you rises your friend Mick, he looks down at you

- "Aren't you going to say goodbye to me my cute little monster?" You grin at this nickname

- you cross your arms behind your back, "Nope."

- he asks you again, "Are you sure?"

- you nod innocently

- Mick pulls you to him by your waist and kisses you desirously

- you break away from him, "I gotta go now. See you later." You kiss him goodbye and leave the house

- "Be careful... oh forget it, if you yell at the attackers they will run away anyway."

- you turn to him once more, "Everyone shows his true face sometime. Love you." "Love you too."

COREY:

- he thinks it's great that you sing in a metal band

- 100% you will release several songs together

- at the beginning you were reluctant, you didn't want to record a song with Corey, you know that many people don't take your band seriously because most of them think that metal singers have to look bad, not like cute girls who can't hurt a fly

- Corey is of a different opinion and has persuaded you to go into the studio with him

- of course Corey knows that you can scream really good, nevertheless he stood there with open mouth and admired you

- he can't believe what a wonderful girlfriend he has, beautiful and still badass

- Corey never misses a chance to tell you how happy he is with you

- when the song is released, the cover is designed by you (it has two black roses on it, both of your names jagged and squiggled over it so it's almost unreadable)

- you both hear the finished song for the first time

- "I love you so much baby." "I love you too." Both of your voices can be heard. After that Corey starts to shout, you join in shortly after.

- Corey is excited, you are too, but you still have some doubts

- Corey tries to convince you and reads out a comment from a fan:

"This song is so fucking good. I never thought that these two voices would harmonize so well. And in the beginning the declaration of love and the cut to Corey who suddenly starts screaming. More of those two, please."

- Corey grins at you, "See I told you. People love women who look cute but are dangerous at the same time." He winks at you.

- "Don't say that babe. I'm nice to everyone." You bat your eyelashes exaggeratedly and smile

- "That's cute." Corey strokes your head, pulls you close and kisses you, smiling

#corey taylor x y/n #corey taylor headcanons #corey taylor one shot #corey taylor x reader #corey taylor imagine #corey taylor #mick thomson x y/n #mick thomson one shot #mick thomson headcanons #mick thomson x reader #mick thomson imagine #mick thomson #joey jordison x reader #joey jordison one shot #joey jordison headcanons #joey jordison x reader #joey jordison imagine #joey jordison x y/n #paul gray x y/n #paul gray headcanons #paul gray one shot #paul gray imagine #paul gray x reader #paul gray #slipknot headcanons #slipknot imagine #slipknot one shot #slipknot #slipknot x reader #slipknot x y/n

[just-horrible-things]

Chewtoy - Christmas Party

The evening's a blur and it isn't even midnight. Ari's danced with pretty much everyone, blotting out reality with music and alcohol and the brush of other disinhibited bodies against hers.

She doesn't see Riven pick his way over to her. He's just there at her shoulder putting another drink into her hand. Orange juice and something. Ari wrinkles her nose.

“I don't think I need any more yet,” she grumbles, conscious of the shape of each individual word in her mouth.

“What's the point of a Christmas party if you can't get drunk?” Riven returns.

“I'm already drunk.”

“C’mon, I can't take it back to the bar.”

Ari takes a sip. She can't quite tell what’s in it – probably vodka. 

“I’d rather have sherry,” she grouses.

“Then drink up, and you can have a sherry next.”

His hand bumps her elbow up, hard enough to send droplets of orange-and-vodka leaping. Reluctantly Ari drinks. 

She could probably get away with saying no… but maybe getting blackout drunk tonight wouldn't be the worst thing.

The next drink he brings her is sherry, as promised. Ari downs it without protest.

The one after that finds her at the side of the room. The dancing has lulled – maybe never to recover, and Ari’s taking the cue to take a rest. 

She's drunk enough not to care that the back of the plastic chair digs into her stripes, or that more than one person has already nearly tripped on her untidily outstretched legs.

Riven tries to hand her another glass of sherry, and Ari doesn't lift a hand to take it.

So he pulls up the chair next to her, chiding “Don't be ungrateful.”

“I don't want it,” Ari grumbles.

Riven’s hand snakes behind her back, slipping under the edge of her shirt. When Ari stiffens and starts to pull away, his fingernails catch on a line of scabs.

“Let's have a nice, friendly Christmas, hey?” he murmurs, leaning in close. “Don't make a scene.”

“What are you gonna do?” Ari returns sourly – but quietly. “Hit me in front of everyone?”

“No,” he smiles, intimate as a lover. “You can do what you like tonight, you're right. You’ll just pay for it later.”

His fingers stroke almost delicately over the tender, sensitive skin either side of the scabs. With the other hand, he pushes the glass at her again.

“Don't you want a break for Christmas? C’mon, it's helping you relax.”

Against her better judgement, Ari takes the glass and drinks. Riven's hand doesn't leave her back, but he hums approval.

“What's the game?” she asks plaintively. “What’re you planning?”

“Maybe I just want to see you loosen up for once.”

He means he's going to take advantage once she's too drunk to resist. But Ari sighs and takes another, deeper swig. 

With any luck, she won't even remember. Do does it really matter?

They stay like that, pantomiming affection, until the glass is empty. Only then does Riven release Ari and stand to take his leave.

“I should take my shirt off,” Ari gripes, almost under her breath, “and show everyone.”

Riven does pause in his tracks, she gets that much satisfaction. But his scrutiny turns into a smirk as he studies Ari’s face, and she shrinks under his disdain.

“Go ahead,” he tells her. “Give it a try.”

“Maybe I will,” she snaps back, but he doesn't pause again.

He's so sure she won't. Maybe she will, just to spite him. Maybe she'll make the biggest scene she can, and fuck his consequences.

Maybe it'd even get her out of this fucking trap she lives in. Riven doesn't think that's a risk – but Riven can be wrong.

Ari glowers around the room, trying to guess how many of the people here might be sympathetic. 

How many would laugh. How many already know. How many would want to touch. How many would disapprove, but ultimately say nothing.

She can't name a single person she's sure would stand up for her. And if no one does…

She shudders at the thought of a dozen hands on her exposed skin. All Riven’s friends are here.

He's right, damn him. She's not going to willingly take anything off in front of them.

A couple more drinks into the night, a few people start to filter back onto the dance floor. Ari’s not sure she can stay upright long enough to dance anymore, but Riven pulls her up by the hands and drags her out to join them.

He thinks he'll make her uncomfortable getting all handsy, but the alcohol has numbed both the pain and the shame. Rather than flinch from him, Ari meets his challenge, gyrating wilfully against his body as if he’s a lover in truth until eventually he gets bored and passes her into someone else's hands.

From there, Ari almost starts to enjoy herself. The music vibrates through her ribcage, and the people she's stumbling into are friendly, and for a little while she forgets she ever didn't want to be here.

Riven's not the only one putting drinks into her hands. People are starting to laugh at how drunk she's getting, but it doesn't feel like it matters. The bastard is right again. The alcohol lets her loosen up. And if she isn't quite having a good time, it isn't a bad one either.

Even when she has to stumble to the toilets to throw up, Taylor follows her with a hand towel for her face and a glass of much-needed water.

Somewhere around then, any coherent stream of thought disintegrates into a jumble of moments and impressions. Several of them involve puking in the bathroom.

There's a series of shots, not all of which are flavours she can name.

She falls over on Gasker and he helps her to the side of the room to lay her down across three or four of the plastic chairs. It's intolerably uncomfortable, but for some reason she just languishes there until Riven appears to drag her back to her feet.

At midnight, church bells play over the radio. Ari kisses Lian on a whim.

Later, Maxin kisses her, up against the window. He leans hard on her, pressing her back into the sill until she squirms and makes pained noises into his mouth.

Then she throws up all down his shirt, and he shoves her away in disgust.

Eventually, after everyone has given up on talking to or dancing with her, she finds herself on the floor, staring up at the lights and the blue-orange ghosts of them that linger in her eyes. She's not totally sure if she collapsed or if she put herself here. It doesn't seem to matter.

The tail end of the party swirls around her. Fewer people now, much fewer, but the music thrums and the conversation flows and if she focuses her eyes deliberately in one spot after another she can make lines and squares out of the afterimages in her vision.

Then Riven's silhouette blocks the light. Ari can't see his face for the glare, which for some reason strikes her as highly entertaining. He nudges her in the ribs with a toe, but she only laughs harder, which makes him chuckle too.

She tries to ask him the time, but can't quite string the words together. He nudges her again and she manages an approximation of a “what?”

He's still chuckling as he rolls her over with a foot, not entirely without her cooperation. She complains with a wordless mumble of discomfort. But the carpet is fuzzy under her cheek, and honestly it's more comfortable – if more vulnerable – lying on her front.

It could be five minutes or half an hour later that she hears him calling her name. She's not sure how many times he's called finally. He grins when he finally gets her attention. He looks drunk, if nowhere near as wasted as Ari. When he clicks his fingers at her it takes him two attempts to get a sound.

She mumbles another incoherent query. He whistles at her like at a dog, and gestures by his feet. 

After a brief effort to find a hand, Ari flips him the bird. 

He laughs, and repeats his gesture.

She doesn't move. She makes him come over and haul her by the back of the shirt, and even as it bunches under her armpits and half chokes her round her throat she remains dead weight, floppy with even her arms dragging along the floor beside her. 

The ridiculousness of it attracts laughs and heckling – mostly at Ari’s expense, but a few jeers at Riven too.

He dumps her back onto the carpet where he wants her. Then he plants a boot on her back and grinds it into her stripes. Ari screeches and claws at the carpet, caught off guard. When he lets up she pushes up to her hands and knees, searching the room for someone reacting to the obvious fact that he just hurt her –

– but everyone is just laughing at her reaction.

It's a cold bucket of water, and for a secret Ari almost feels sober.

But when she tries to get away from Riven, her limbs betray her. She can't figure out how to stand, and he hooks one of her knees with a foot to stop her crawling. When he yanks on her waistband to pull her back, she gives up the fight.

She barely fucking knows which way is up, what's she supposed to do to fight him?

Satisfied, he sits back down. The plastic chair creaks under him as he leans back and swings his feet up to rest on Ari’s back.

Ari groans, defeated, to another round of laughter.

The heels of Riven's boots are twin points of heat on her back, just barely over the threshold into pain. Hotter is the pulse throbbing in her cheeks, her ears, the tips of her fingers.

She turns her face down against the carpet, unsure if she’s hiding or just seeking something cool to press against. She stays there a long time before she remembers that it's a bad idea, that having your face turned down is a great way to get your nose broken.

The voices and laughter seem to have turned away from Ari, at least. Apparently she's fucking furniture now. Riven's still chatting away, but she doesn't think any of it's about her.. 

The heat of humiliation fades. Even like this, with pain just a twitch of Riven's foot away, she's starting to fall asleep just from lying still. She still feels the weight of his feet, but if it hurts, it doesn't hurt enough to matter.

She even wonders vaguely if what she needs is another drink. Unconsciousness seems like the inevitable conclusion, maybe it'd be best to speed it on its way.

“Jesus Christ,” someone says, almost above her head as they lean over to pull out a chair. “How much has she had?”

“Way too much,” Riven answers, easy humour in his voice. “I'll bet you anything she doesn't remember a thing by tomorrow.”

#my writing #verse: resistance #au: chewtoy #chewtoy!ari #riven maclauren #I have been threatening to write this one for I think literal years #posted from my phone so not formatted how I'd like #ah well