#also i can't get this riff out of my head

[artbyblastweave]

I've never made any connections between Worm and the Captain America mythos before. Spill some ink?

Okay, so from a purely aesthetic perspective, the gimme is Miss Militia. She's the most obvious "Captain Patriotic" in the roster, she has the power of GUN, she's the only one who actively buys into the mythology of America specifically. She's a Kurdish woman occupying an aesthetic niche generally held by a rugged squinty white guy. She's an output of the melting pot narrative. She's sort of a rendering of what a grounded superhero who somehow became very aesthetically into America might look like. Not in the craven marketing-driven way of Homelander or Comedian, not in the jingoistic maniac way of USAgent or Peacemaker. She buys it in the broadly left-liberal (USamerican connotation of that term) safe, friendly, reclamative way. Why, what a great rehabilitation of the archetype!

She's also deeply, deeply afraid of rocking the boat. She's got a deepseated childhood trauma related to the bad things that happen when she puts herself in a leadership role. She goes along to get along. When she's proactive, it's usually to point a gun at Tattletale to stop her from upsetting the status quo. She sits through a lot of situations where Steve Rogers, as commonly modeled, would probably plant himself like a tree by the river of truth and go, "Hey, this is fucked up." She more or less capitulates to Undersider domination of the city, in a way that predisposes us to think of her as a voice of reason after all these total nuts that Skitter's been up against- but would Taylor "to relinquish control is a form of ego death" Hebert really be willing to leave someone in charge of the local Protectorate branch who she thought couldn't be corralled? She looks like a beacon, but doesn't- indeed, probably can't- ever truly behave like one. I mean, you can debate the on-the-spot morality of any given one of her judgement calls, that's actually one of the less exhausting Worm Morality Debates to have- but in aggregate, a person in American flag garb who actually meaningfully criticizes the paramilitary organization they're part of is not gonna survive long in that role!

So again, she's the gimme from an aesthetic standpoint. But what I don't really see a lot of discussion of is how Cauldron plays into the riff.

Captain America is institutional, but in a comically morally uncomplicated way. The serum was originally mana from heaven, granted to a living saint, conveniently divorced from any nitty-gritty sausage-making process and even-more conveniently divorced from the horrible consequences of giving the, uh, the U.S government a replicable super soldier process. And in fairness to Captain America, this is 100 percent something the overall mythos eventually patched to my satisfaction; the sausage-making process eventually revealed as prototypical government fuckery driven by human experimentation on black servicemen, the overall Marvel Setting littered with failed attempts by the U.S. Government to recreate that golden goose so they can have their fun new jackboots. (In Ultimate Marvel, this is how almost all contemporary superhumans were created, and this is a state of affairs with a body count in the millions or billions.)

Cauldron draws you in with the same noble rhetoric about greater goods, the same one-off proprietary irreplicable formula- but you don't get the luxury afterwards of representing nothing but the dream. You aren't partnering up with a plucky crank scientist with a heart of gold. You're selling your soul to an organization with an agenda. The narrative makes no bones about the fact that everything you do is fundamentally tainted by the fact you opted into an end product created through torture, kidnapping and human experimentation. You don't get to pull a Kamen Rider by going rogue or opting out or making good use of the fruit of the poisoned tree; you are owned, and everything you do has this Damocles sword hanging over your head- when are the people who bankrolled this going to come to collect?

So that's the question of "who would willingly dress like that" covered, and the question of who creates a serum like that. What about the question of who takes a serum like that? I'd argue that Eidolon is the examination of that. Pre-Cauldron David reads to me like pre-serum Steve Rogers viewed through a significantly bleaker lens. They're both sickly kids desperate to serve, rocketed to the pinnacle of human capability by an experimental procedure. But for Steve Rogers, the crisis was that he had a specific vision of the world and was frustrated by his inability to carry it out. Before the serum he picked fights over what was right and wrong and got his ass handed to him; afterwards he picked those same fights and just started winning instead. The serum neatly solved a problem he had, and to the extent that his mindset is influenced by his pre-serum experiences, it's generally constructive; a desire to protect the weak, help the helpless, an appreciation for people who stand up for what's right even when they're clearly gonna get pancaked for their trouble. So ultimately there's no dark side, downside, or underlying neurosis ascribed to his initial impulse to take that serum.

But with David, it's not a tragic case of the spirit being willing but the flesh being weak. He isn't a preternaturally-noble soul, out to represent the best elements of the American ideal- he kind of represents the inverse, a guy who's been failed at every level while utterly convinced that he's the problem. He's actively suicidal because he's a wheelchair-bound epileptic in an economically-depressed socially-backwards rural town in the 1980s, and he's spent his 18 years of life internalizing the idea that he's worse than useless unless he can somehow find a way provide value to something larger than himself. Doctor Mother finds him in the aftermath of a suicide attempt spurred by his rejection from the army- and he didn't even want to join the army specifically, necessarily, he just needed his situation to be literally anything else, and he took what he thought he could get. And then he finds himself in a position to become a superhero, so he does that, molds himself into that, subordinates himself to that, builds his entire sense of self and values around the value he can provide in that role. No grand design or sacred principles carried over through the metamorphosis. Just relief at finally, finally having something that looks like an answer to the question of what he's supposed to do.

And you know, you know that if Steve Rogers was facing down the barrel of being depowered, he'd smile and nod, he'd Cincinnatus that shit. It's happened before. But for David, the emotional trauma and self-worth issues that caused him to roll the dice on a Steve-Rogers treatment never really went away. When would it? He's been Providing Value as a ten-ton Hammer Against Evil for thirty years. No family, no social life. Certainly, no incentive on his handler's part to lance his Atlas complex. So he barrels towards atrocity in the name of remaining useful. Admittedly, this is where the comparison breaks down in a significant way; Captain America is much more of a symbol than he is an irreplicable powerhouse, so it's not catastrophic if he's taken off the board. Eidolon is so unbelievably powerful that his myopia and self-centeredness actually do align with a real problem everyone else is gonna have if he loses his powers. But in terms of the starting points- I think that Steve Rogers embodies the myth about why you'd want to join the army that badly. Eidolon is, I think, much more closely modelling why you'd actually want to join the army that badly.

#apologies for the delay in responding #worm #wildbow #parahumans #worm meta #eidolon #thoughts #meta #miss militia

[geminimoonbeamx]

Friday I’m In Love

A/N: So jokes on me because I didn't expect to love Eddie Munson this much. @allaboardthereadingrailroad​ told me he was going to be the it girl of this season and I said absolutely not. 

Warnings: Smut, lots of it. Drug use. Judgemental teenage girls

Parings: Eddie Munson x Plus Size Reader

Summary: Eddie invites you to his show, and holy shit. You show up. 

“Remind me why the hell were here again?” 

You’d never been to The Hideout, a shitty hole in the wall off the highway outside of  town. You’ve driven by it like, a thousand times and never once had the urge to go inside. Now, as you stand next to your friend, Shelly’s, mom’s Subaru in the half empty parking lot your nerves are going haywire, over eager to walk through the doors. 

“Because, we were invited”  you answer simply. Duh. Sweeping more glittery lip gloss on and fluffing your hair before adding “plus it’s not like we had anything else to do” 

“We could literally be doing anything else then this- isn't Clair throwing a party tonight?” 

“Yeah, but all her parties are always like, major depressing. Ever since Heather you know”-you  make a gurgling choking sound and cross your eyes “Its like, why do we have to do a toast to the dead girl, every party. I get once- but it feels redundant” 

You get it. Claire and Heather were best friends. You’re also not in the mood to go hold her hand while she cries about it. Again. 

Also, Heather had put gum in your third grade. So- 

“For one- you're a horrible person” Shelly accuses, shaking her overly curly head “For two, we could’ve gone to the movies or something” 

“You think the theaters boring, plus like. Won't it be fun to try something new? Come on” you grab her hand and pull her along behind you. Sparing one last glace at the familiar van, parked idle towards the front of the lot. 

“So like, this has nothing to do with you and weirdo Munson, right?” 

“Right- and its funny the way that you only think he’s weird after he sells you weed. Asshole” 

Well- its not like you we’re expecting anything fancy from the Hideout. No expectations, no disappointment, right? The bar is the textbook definition of a dive.The lingering smell of stale beer hits you straight in the face as you walk in. Seedy lighting that makes everything look shadowy and almost green-

“Oh look! They have pool tables!” you point out because that could be fun. Maybe?

“Oh great” She replies, voice fasle sugar sweet before dropping “I want to leave” 

“Shh” you elbow her, hard. “We just got here. Play nice” 

And she does, for the most part. Sit down at one of the sticky tables with you. Avoids the looks of the bar's patrons- older. Wasted. White trash, for sure. You wouldn't talk to them, not ever but like. Whatever. You can just ignore them. That’s easy enough. 

Especially when they get on stage. The Dark Wizards, Eddie at the lead. Even though he's not singing, even though he’s off to the side with that bright cherry red guitar of his. He’s the star. 

“We’re the Dark Wizards, and we’re about to rock your mortal world” 

You don't know when this…thing you had for Eddie developed. Somewhere between smoke laced conversations and late nights glued to your phone, him fighting the shitty static of his own line to talk until one of you called uncle, the thing had taken a life of its own. 

He’s odd. Yeah. But no other guy has ever been this nice to you. Eddies odd, but he’s not cruel. He’s not like the asshole jocks or elitist math nerds. He’s not even like the rest of his leather clad D&D playing posse. 

You wish you could get everyone else to see that. Get your friends to see that. 

The singer is trash, the drummer can't keep a beat to save his life, but the guitar riffs are melodic. Smooth and sharp, and your heart catches the tune and beats in time. Blood flow slowing and stopping until your all but hypnotized. 

You clap and cheer and cant manage to tear your eyes away until the final note plays, their set is over-

“Oh my god, you're so into him” the statement is disgusted, mostly. Fascinated. Your friend looks at you like she's watching a car crash- violent and bloody, but she can't take her eyes off of it. 

You just shrug because like. Yeah. Obviously.

“Oh fuck no” she groans, face palming hard. 

Eddie hurries out from behind the stage, which is really just their supply room. Grinning from ear to ear, beaming arms spread out wide. “Look who came!” 

“You invited me, I told you I’d come” You try to contain it, but you're giddy. Even more so when he throws a gangly arm around your shoulder. “It’s no biggie” 

“No biggie? You came all the way out here to see little ol me. Huge biggie, my friend. Huge” He holds his heart with his other hand dramatically- 

Always so dramatic. Always so enamoring. 

“You deserve a drink. A real one, what is this?” He dips his pinky into your friend's drink and her nose scrunches up something fierce and offended “Sprite? Nah, that's a peasant drink. Bartender kind sir- pour us something strong. And…fruity” 

The bartender, who looks like an Ex-con, actually makes a mean Mojito. 

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

“It’s totes okay, I’ll call you when I get home, yeah?” 

You're in the parking lot, again. Except for you're not leaving in the car that you came in. 

Shelly’s tucked into the Subaru, staring out at you with all knowing eyes. 

He’s just going to drop me off at home. 

Uh Huh. 

Seriously. 

“Yeah whatever you better call me later- I want all the dirty details. Use protection- bye” she waves before her tires screech, hauling ass away from the Hideout. You flip her the bird all the way. 

“Okay let's blow this popsicle stand” you plop into the passenger side of the beat up old van, bouncing along as you go. Glad for the low cut blouse you’d donned because Eddie's eyes follow your chest, comically, animatedly. Up and down. 

“Whatever you say, mi’lady. Your house?”

“I mean- I don't have a curfew or anything on the weekend- we could go somewhere else. If you want to?”

Eddie looks pensive, lips pursed, before a light bulb goes off in his head. 

“Want to go to the end of the earth with me?” He questions as he reverses, and well. How can you say no to that offer? 

-----

The cliffs of Sattlers Quarry are jagged and high. Eddie parks too close to the edge- takes you out. Holds your hand tight as you screech, not being able to look over for more than a second. 

“Its okay,” Eddie chuckles, herding you into the open back of the van. “I come here all the time, were all good Y/L/N.”  

The seats are ripped out, posters of dragons and bare tittied ladies plastered on the metal walls. Black Sabbath plays lowly from the crappy speakers and he lays an armful of threadbare blanket down for cushioning, for the two of you to curl up on. 

You cling to him just to do it. Keep close as he rolls the cleanest joint you’ve ever seen. Spark and smoke and laugh- all attached to hip. He talks about Tolkien as fluidly as he does Karl Marx, he likes pineapple on pizza and was born the day before Valentines. Cats are superior to dogs, and he like lives off of peanut butter crunch cereal. 

His dad split when he was in eight grade and living with his Uncles not so bad, really. It’s kind of like rooming with a chill homie, but definitely nothing like having a real parent. 

“I'm boring you aren't I? Just tell me to stop, and I’ll zip my lips. Locked. Key is thrown, right off that cliff” He makes the motions, zip. Key, tossed and you lean your face into his jean clad shoulder. 

“Mmm, no. I like listening to you talk” its not a lie, not the usual shit you blow up guys ass. Everything out of Eddie’s mouth is unexpected, he tells stories with words. Vivid pictures, film on a loop. With your lungs burning and THC running through your system it's even better. 

“I like you. In general” Eddie whispers, and you hide your face even more. He shrugs you away though, turning. Face to face, no way to run from his dark eyes “I like your eyes” he leans in, and you think finally he’s gong to kiss you. Instead he gets close enough. Blinks fluttery fast, his lashes against yours. Butterfly kisses

You shake your head, cheeks burning, chest tight. 

“And your hair? I really like that- even if it is better than mine which is rude. And don't even get me started on your perfume because that? That’s my favorite. And your-” 

You slap a hand over his mouth pushing until he gives way. Until your on top thick thighs caging his waist “Stop it, jeeze I lied. I hate your voice, shuddap!” 

He makes a few muffled attempts, squirming a bit before giving up.  Going lax, bringing his hands behind his head and looking at you with dark eyes that shine and sparkle. He's enjoying this, and the long languid lick he gives to your hand shouldn't feel as good as it does. 

You like Eddie, like the way he feels. You like the way he lets you be who you want to be, do what you want to do. Other guys would’ve thrown you off, too heavy. Too dominant. They didnt want to play, but Eddie. Eddie’s wanted to play with you since you hit that doobie behind the gym. 

You unbutton your blouse slowly, letting him watch you. He can have it. All of it. Everything. You unhook your bra and those dark eyes go wide. 

“This okay?” you ask, taking your hand off of his mouth, resting on his shoulder. 

He nods, quick, adam's apple bobbing “Are you even asking me that right now? Yes, fuck yes I am a-okay. The best, really-” 

The kiss you cut him off with is messy, too much tongue. Too much want. Why had you wanted this long? Maybe it should’ve have been more romantic- but then again maybe it is? It’s own version of romance, its own courting and dating and being cared for. 

Eddies hands are everywhere, eager and exploring and its almost funny until he thumb brushes over your nipple, just on the right side of rough, making you  gasp sharp into his mouth, and grind down onto his hard lap in tight circles. Eddie pulls away, just barley. Dragging his slick mouth acros your jaw, down your chest, your hands fist tight his hair as he runs the flat of his tongue along the nub. 

It feels too good, mind numbing. Base instinct, two teenagers and in a fogged up car. Breathing eachothers air, tasting each other spit. Fumbly and needy, too fast. 

Struggling out of your clothes, you wiggle out of your tight acid washed jeans as Eddie shed’s layer after layer- Hell Fire Club Tee, Leather Jacket, Denim vest. The floor of his van littered. You’re tugging on your pink panties when he blankets himself over you, pushing you back down. The blankets rough on your bare skin. 

Eddie’s a weirdo, not a virgin. And most importantly, he’s good with his hands. The long ring donned fingers work magic. The real life kind that gets your back arching and has sounds that would embarrass you to think about later clawing their way from your throat. Feels almost too good as he rests his forehead against yours, noses bumping as he pounds his fingers in and out of you. 

He likes it, watching you squirm, watching your hips shift every time he tries to pull his hand away. 

He keeps condoms in the glove box, mostly for show. Hope. The off chance that some girl gives him a chance and wants to hook up- once in a blue moon shit. He’s glad for them now, even if it means pulling away from a whining writhing you

When he slides back between your thighs it's a heady feeling. He’s almost vibrating, shaking out of his skin, nervous excitement making him clumsy. He  misses. Doesnt slide into you easily, the two of you shifting and giggling, gasping and nosing at one and other until. 

Oh. 

There. 

The inhale you take is shaky and sharp and Eddie groans and buries his head in your neck. Breathing in your sweet perfume as his hips begin to pump. 

“O-oh my god. Eddie-” You stutter, holding on to his shoulders. He’s not the thickest guy you’ve been with, but his dicks long. Longer then average forsure. Jabbing at that place inside you, pleasure pain bursting behind your eyelids and you cling to his shoulders. There's no real pace, not from the nineteen year old, but the friction of sweaty bodies feels good, the rocking rhythmic and almost peaceful as you stare up at the van’s ceiling. You like it, the way he moans, the way he tells you how it feels- he really doesn't ever shut up. 

Its quick, you’re young and Eddie’s never been with anyone who feels so tight. You can tell when he’s close, when he speeds up to nothing more then a dirty, desperate grind. When his whole body goes taught and his arms tighten around your waist, holding onto you as he rides it out. As he shakes and shudders, needing the grounding. You hold him in the cradle of your thighs. 

He pulls out with a hiss and slumps, heavy and boneless on to you and you stroke his back, trail your fingers across his shoulders soothingly. It felt good the minutes that go by in overexerted bliss. It wasnt like you weren't used to not getting yours. Guys just had a one track mind, right? No big deal, you’ll handle it when you get home- 

Eddie's head perks up from your chest. Almost like he could read your mind, Isnt that one of his D&D elf powers or whatever?

His animated, recovered enough to have regained that mischievous look. He waggles his tongue, vulgar and pushing corny

 “Your turn, mi’lady”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson

[twisted-wonderland-but-gayer]

I like the idea of wholesome military Yuu. Probably accidentally makes people assume they're mean or scary but it's just a gym bro. During overblots they took everyone down so easily because of past trainings. Very cool scars they boast about but everyone looks at them horrified.

"Oh this from the time I got grazed with a bullet, very cool huh?"

"What.."

-also is it cool if I name myself 🍰 anon? I feel like I lurk around your ask inbox a lot, it's totally fine if I can't!

Please read all the dialouge in a fucking duke nukem voice.

This giant person approached Idia after they heard Idia mumbles self depreciating things abt himself himself under this breath. Idia is frozen and he hears boss music. "Hey man, stop putting yourself down, it's not cool. I know you can't see it but your character and strengths are pretty cool. I hope you can lean to see it in time." And refuses to walk off until Idia says something nice about himself, in which then Yuu daps him up and says "nice one dude"

"Hey man what are you? A dude, a girl a they?" "I don't have pronouns or gender. Those damn alien bastards stole them from me."

Ruggie being baffled at this mfer who makes bank back in their world be so frugal and down to earth. One day they say to Idia "you play retro games for nostalgia, i play retro games because i cannot afford new ones, we are not the same." And Ruggie tries to call them out.

"Actually I donate most of my millions to charities in need and enjoying sponsoring education for young children in less fortunate situations. Also, those damn alien bastards stole all of my newer consoles and deleted my save data."

They don't like Octavinelle. They're posers protecting a restaurant by Mediocre blackmail and threats of violence. "Booo where im from corporations make sure to stage your suicide by shooting you three times in the back of the head for speaking up about child labor"

They esp hate Azul. "Mindless corporations like yours forced me and my comrades across sea to commit atrocities on innocents and die over oil. You are not a cool dude, bro." Or just.

"You claim to know how to fight and use magic yet only fight against those who are weaker than you. This one is for my ignihyde friend that was bullied by you." And the trio just roll their eyes before getting steamrolled by this mfer in a real fight and almost end up in the ER. This is the same person who said "those damn shrimp bastards will pay for frying my rice and trying to break into the kitchen.

They advocate equal rights and just a good dude. Everytime they speak you hear a hard-core guitar riff. They are simultaneously the smartest yet stupidest person everyone knows. Everyone agrees that they're cool as hell tho. They hand Yuu a cold one and take off their glasses to wink, but underneath their glasses, they have another pair on.

They are just a walking shitpost

2) yeah i checked my blog and dont think I have cake (slice) anon??? Your cool, welcome aboard

#not writing #not requests #yuu #twst yuu #🍰 anon #idia shroud #ruggie bucchi #octotrio #duke yuukem

[itgetsdark-x]

Hey, I have a little idea, that I just can't get out of my head.

Joel is trying to teach the reader how to play the guitar riff of "the chain" by Fleetwood Mac, but the reader gets a bit too distracted by Joels finger movements, which he notices, teases the reader with a cheeky smirk preferably like something similar to "darling you're focusing on the wrong thing". Once he sees that the reader is blushing, he sets down his guitar, takes the readers guitar and they just do it in the living room, just because they're so caught up in the moment. Then after the deed, he let's out a snarky remark on how the reader is easily distracted (honestly I don't even know how should the remark sound, like "next time focus on the strings and not the lingering fingers") [I'll just leave it up to you], but yeah the reader promises that she would be more attentive next time and they both start wheezing, because she's already making promises that she wouldn't be able to keep. The end 🥰

PS. And bless you and your writing, the writing is absolutely astounding, the way you capture pure emotions is phenomenal, the dialogues between characters too. Everything is mind-blowing, most of the time I find myself taken aback by it 😚. Thank you!!

A/N: please forgive the fact this has been sat in my inbox for literally months, I am so sorry!! <3 I’ve had so much on recently I just haven’t had the time to write so also please forgive the fact this sucks, I feel so outta touch! Nevertheless, here is your request and I hope I’ve done it justice, somewhat as the prompt was amazing!!

Summary: you love music, almost as much as you love watching your friend, Joel, play the guitar. When you’re stuck learning a song, Joel is there to lend a hand, in more ways than one.

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, it’s just smut, unprotected p in v, mentioned age gap, mild choking, oral (m receiving)

Characters: Joel Miller x (f) reader

Word Count: 3.6k

You sighed heavily, the breath from your lungs exhaling loudly in frustration as you threw your guitar down on the old couch in anger.

“What’s got you in a tiffy, darlin’?” Joel asked, peering his head round the corner so he could look at you.

“Can’t learn this fuckin’ riff in The Chain, y’know by Fleetwood Mac?” You groaned, slumping back into your seat and closing your eyes.

“Yeah, I’m from that era of music, darlin’. I’m well aware of the song.” He chuckled dryly and leant up against the wall of his lounge so he could admire you. “Would you like some help? I know the song and could teach you, if you like?” He said kindly.

“Really? Would you?” You grinned. “God, Joel! Yes! Thank you, you’d really by saving my life. I promised the band we would play it at our next show in a few day’s but actually didn’t realise the riff would be quite so hard. Sorry I know we said we would just hangout tonight and listen to music but this has got me all frustrated.”

Joel just smiled at you softly before he left the room to grab his own guitar. The two of you had been close friends for a while. Not long after you had moved to town, you stumbled into a local bar and saw this somewhat gruff-looking guy strumming his guitar at the open mic night. It took you to go to the same bar and see him three more times before you even grew the courage to say hello to him. There was an instant attraction between the two of you but you never quite built up the courage to become more than close friends, you spent a lot of time together and there always felt like more lingered in the air but you always managed to repress those feelings. Still, here you were now, you both seemed to just slot into one another’s life and routines seamlessly and without further words of your feelings for one another.

He reappeared with his, much nicer, and newer guitar; he gestured for you to scoot across the couch and pick up your own guitar. There was an evident age-gap between the two of you but you both bonded over your love or music and still, even still, it’s what you both loved the most.

“Okay, so,” Joel started and sat down on the couch next to you.

You turned yourself and crossed your legs so you could watch the male and follow his instructions. You picked up your own guitar and followed suit in Joel’s fingers positions.

He peered over at you with a soft smile, it was the sort of smile that hooked you from the instant you set your eyes on him; the kind of smile you wanted to drown yourself in forever. Just as quick as you saw yourself staring at the male, you diverted your gaze to his fingers once more and focused on your own positioning.

“You wanna put your fingers like this, strum, strum, switch, strum, switch…” Joel was instructing but your brain felt as if it had turned to mush.

This felt like it was the first time you properly took in the older male’s form and you could feel your cheeks heating up; you watched as Joel’s thick fingers moved effortlessly to play the riff that you had been struggling with. He continued to play and the soft chords filled your ears.

Your mind wandered filthily as he did so; you stopped trying to play along as you watched his fingers move, imagining what they would feel like touching you, feeling you, even what they would feel like inside of you. You shifted awkwardly in your seat as the familiar throb of lust swept through your body.

You imagined how it would feel to have Joel’s fingers tracing down your body softly, so incredibly softly until they were hooking inside your panties to gentle caress yo—

“Darlin’,” Joel coughed, drawing your attention back to the room. “Seems to me you’re focusing on the wrong thing…”

“What?!” You asked loudly, directing your gaze back to the smirking male in front of you. “Oh, I — uh — you,” you muttered. “Good technique.” You managed to get out with deeply flushed cheeks.

“Good technique, huh?” He chuckled. “You’re blushin’ quite a bit there.” Joel remarked with a smug smirk as he placed his guitar down on the floor away from the couch.

“N-no I am not!” You defended weakly, staring at the male once again with widened eyes as he took your guitar. “Wait, w-what are you doing?” You asked meekly.

“I’m doing what I shoulda done that night you first spoke to me.” Joel whispered, moving closer to you now.

He put your guitar on the floor, with his own and closed the distance between you; one of his strong hands held your face as he pressed a hungry kiss to your parted lips. You couldn’t help but gasp as your brain caught up with what was happening.

You pressed your palms to the males broad chest and gently pushed him away so you could open your mouth to speak once more.

“I don’t wanna ruin anything, Joel. D-don’t be dumb.” You whispered as you leant into the hand on your face.

“Shut up and kiss me, will you?” He laughed dryly before pulling you back in.

Joel manoeuvred your body until your were straddling his lap and you let out a contented sigh as he deepened the kiss; his tongue quickly swept along your bottom lip before it delved into your mouth to fight against your own. Any previous arguments of why you shouldn’t be doing this melted away with each kiss. Your hips shifted in the males lap, your greedy privates needing more friction than you were getting.

Joel let out a breathy laugh and toyed with the buttons on the front of your plaid shirt, he looked up at you to silently ask for permission, to which you gave a simple nod. Within seconds he was exposing your bra-clad chest, he couldn’t contain the deep groan that rumbled from his throat as his fingers fumbled with the fabric to expose more of your skin.

“Look at you, darlin’, so pretty.” He mumbled, attaching his rough lips to the skin of your neck and chest. He peppered soft kisses to the delicate skin and nipped at the doughy flesh of your breast.

You let out a soft moan, it was a small noise but it only encouraged Joel further; he unhooked your bra and let your bare breasts fall free from the constricting fabric. Your chest heaved, your skin was flushed and you wriggled in Joel’s lap; you weren’t sure what to do with your hands or even your body, you were fixed in the spot and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from Joel’s hands again. Only this time, they were massaging at your sensitive tits, he pinched his fingers over your hardening nipples and he toyed with the sensitive buds.

“Fuck, Joel. Please, I need way more than this. Please.” You breathed, watching him still.

“Yeah?” He groaned, his cock throbbing painfully in his worn jeans. “You need more? I see the way you’re still watching me, baby girl. You wanna watch as I play with your pretty pussy?”

Your breath caught in your throat at Joel’s question, you never imagined he could sound any sexier but there he was, filth falling from his lips as he played with your tits. With such nonchalance, he might as well have asked you how you like your coffee in the morning. You nodded eagerly, unable to string an answer together and Joel just chuckled.

“Get out your jeans and panties for me then. Then, just wait, since you got such a thing for watching my hands why don’t I let you watch properly?” He smirked.

You did as you were instructed, you stood from the sofa and stripped yourself of your remaining clothes and you kicked the discarded articles of clothing to the side with your waylaid guitar. You draped your arms over your chest, feeling overly exposed compared to Joel who was still fully dressed. Joel pushed the coffee table in the middle of the room until it was a further distance away from the sofa and he swiftly took the mirror off of the wall; he rested it up against the edge of the coffee table so that it was positioned opposite the sofa.

“What are you doing?” You asked a little nervously.

“You’ll see, darlin’. Now how ‘bout you come help me get outta these clothes?”

You didn’t hesitate for a second longer and you were on the male in a flash, your hands clawed at Joel’s T-shirt as you haphazardly pulled it over his head before you moved onto unbuckling his belt and helping him out of his jeans and boxers.

His cock sprung free from the restraints of his boxers and you instantly felt yourself flutter around air, you craved any part of the older male you could get your hands on.

Joel hissed softly as the cool air hit the tip of his swollen cock, the pre-cum already beading at his slit. You swallowed roughly as your eyes drank in the male in front of you, your soft hands stroked over his broad chest with a smile.

“C’mon darlin’, sit on the floor for me.” He said softly and you nodded compliantly.

You sat on the floor, a little way from the sofa and you couldn’t help but cover your modesty as you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror across from you. Joel tutted as he sat himself behind you, he spread his legs and pulled you back until you were flush against him.

“Look at you,’ Joel breathed, turning your face to look at the both of you in the mirror. “Look at how beautiful you look for me, spread your pretty little legs for me.” He held the tops of your thighs to gently pull your legs up, he stroked down your leg and pushed them open at your knees.

You wanted to close your legs, you wanted to look away but Joel had you captivated, you caught his gaze in the reflection opposite you and you smiled softly at the man.

“Don’t be shy, baby girl, you’re so beautiful, you should see yourself as I touch you.” He breathed against your neck before he peppered soft kisses there.

Your cheeks were glowing and any words you wanted to say had died long ago in your throat, you were completely hypnotised by the older male. You watched intently as his large hands stroked over your body, his fingers lightly danced over your inner thighs and you couldn’t help the way your body shook under his gentle touches.

“Stay still for me, princess.” He cooed with a soft laugh.

“C-can’t… Need you so bad and you’re teasing me.” You whined petulantly.

“No patience, huh?” He asked, nipping at your neck with a smile when you gasped.

“Joel! Please!!” You huffed as his fingers ghosted over where you wanted them the most.

You couldn’t help the way your legs instinctively spread further at his teasing fingertips which caused the older male to let out a breathy laugh.

“Atta girl, you get the idea. You wanna watch my fingers so bad, watch how they’re gonna play with your cunt.” He whispered lowly into your ear which caused your body to shudder.

Joel kept his eyes locked onto yours in the mirror’s reflection as his fingers finally fell to where you needed them most. He brushed his fingers through your damp slit, collecting your apparent arousal on them and he cocked a brow at you in the mirror.

“Hm,” he hummed happily. “This all for me, darlin’?”

You nodded weakly, just a small gasp escaping from your parted lips as Joel’s thick digits finally settled on your throbbing clit. He began to move his fingers in small circles and you were caught, entirely captivated and at his will, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the reflection unfolding in front of you.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you knew you should be ashamed, should close your legs and cover your modesty but Joel had rewired your brain; him and his stupid hands. His perfect, thick and magical hands. The hands that almost had you shaking already.

“You like that, sweetheart? Like watching my fingers play with your clit?” He asked smoothly, his breath fanning against your neck as he stared at you in the mirror.

You opened your mouth but the only sound that slipped from your lips was a shaky moan which just egged Joel on further; his fingers started to circle your sensitive bundle of nerves quicker and you felt your stomach start to flutter and tense.

He kept that same, smug smirk plastered over his face as he effortlessly sped his fingers up, he occasionally let his lips drop down and kiss at the sensitive skin of your neck. Your head began to lull back as Joel’s fingers worked quickly, to edge you closer to your release but he simply tutted at you.

“Nope, baby girl, you need to watch yourself as I make you cum, need to watch you shaking for me as you cum for me.” He whispered.

You forced your head upright, the overwhelming pleasure making your limbs feel heavy. Joel dipped his fingers lower so he could insert two into you, albeit slightly awkwardly but it was enough, you could feel his thick digits stroking your spongy walls.

With every move of his fingers, the heel of his palm nudged against your clit; the room was filled with your breathy moans, Joel’s soft encouragements and the obscene squelching of your wet pussy.

“J-Joel, I’m not gonna last. Feels, fuck.” You whimpered, your fingers clawing at the flesh on Joel’s legs. “Feels so fucking good, fuck.” You cursed.

“Atta girl, cum for me; look at me in the mirror, look into my eyes as I make you cum.” He growled possessively.

You nodded, your mouth hung agape and just as Joel curled his fingers upwards, you felt yourself clench around him. He removed his fingers from inside you and went to quickly rub over your clit as you shook through your orgasm. You felt your stomach curl as your walls clenched and then you felt the first few spurts of squirt leave your body, hearing the soft splashing noise as it hit the floor.

“Oh fuck, Joel — I’m, I’m sorry. I’ve never done that before. I’ll clean it up.” You breathed, closing your legs in embarrassment.

“Don’t you dare.” He smirked. “You don’t even realise how hot that is.”

Your cheeks flushed out of embarrassment and you smiled at the older male in the mirror, dropping your legs once again and seeing the mess you had made. No man before had ever made you feel as good as Joel did, your mind began to race just how amazing he would feel if he was in a better position and you weren’t sure if you would even be able to take it.

“Now,” Joel smiled over your shoulder, nipping at the flesh playfully. “Why don’t you sit in my lap, facing the mirror so you can see my cock sliding in and out of your tight pussy?” He challenged with a raised brow.

You nodded dumbly, you honestly couldn’t believe this was your friend, the charming gentleman who would help elderly people at the store, the one that plays gently with his niece; yet here he was, dominant and filthy.

You moved out of the way so Joel sit with his back against the sofa more and close his legs, he gave his throbbing cock and few strokes with the same hand he had inside of you moments ago. You couldn’t help but stare again, you were captivated and completely mesmerised by him; it was intoxicating.

You moved once again so you could position yourself, hovering above Joel’s cock, he held the base of his member to guide it into your tight hole and then he squeezed your hips roughly. Your eyes fluttered closed as Joel lowered you into his lap, his length felt impossibly long and thick, you could feel your walls stretching around him until you were completely bottomed out on him.

“Joel, fuck, so—“ you breathed out. “So big, Jesus.”

“I prefer being called Joel, but hey, I’ll respond to Jesus.” He teased, squeezing your hips. “So tight baby girl, so good for me.” He muttered, urging you to rise before sinking down again.

You rolled your eyes at the male but started a steady rhythm, lifting yourself and sitting back down continuously; Joel felt incredible, better than anyone you had been with before, with every time you lowered yourself, you could feel the thick tip of his cock nudge against your g-spot, you felt like you were seeing stars. Completely cock drunk on the older male.

“I can’t keep this up, my legs are shaking already and I feel like I’m gonna cum again.” You whispered, looking at Joel’s blissful, pleasured face.

“Come on, just a little bit more for me, just a bit more.” He groaned as he took his hands to hold onto your tits once again.

You shook your head, took one of his hands and wrapped it around your throat. “Like this.” You instructed.

“Fuck.” He groaned. “You’re trouble, darlin’.” He smirked and gently squeezed your throat as you continued to ride him.

You clenched around him in response, soft moans falling from your parted lips. Joel used his other hand to find your clit once again, his calloused fingers circling it expertly. You watched his fingers again in the mirror and that’s all it took; your eyes drank in the erotic scene. The older males hand around your throat, his fingers playing with your clit and his cock plunging in and out of your hole. You sank into his lap and circled your hips as you came around him, with a wrecked moan.

“Good girl, good girl, good girl.” Joel cooed in your ear, the praise sending shocks through you as you rode out your orgasm.

Joel released your throat and removed his fingers from your oversensitive clit as he let you regain your composure once again. He gently got you off his lap as you got your breath back.

“Let me sort this out.” You smirked, wrapping your hand around his cock.

“Hmm?” Joel smirked.

You spread his legs, and knelt between them and without another word, you sucked the males length into your mouth, sinking down until it hit the back of your throat.

Joel let out an animalistic groan and instinctively wrapped his fingers into your hair to steady himself from bucking up into your mouth. He looked at the reflection in front of him; his hair-covered chest was already heaving with effort as you started to bob your head in his lap. And then there was your body; your perfect body, with all its curves and lines, he watched as your ass moved with each bob and every now and then, he could catch a glimpse of your wet pussy.

You sank your mouth lower until your nose was buried in the thatch of dark hair at the base of his cock, your senses were filled with Joel, he scent was heady and intoxicating but even amongst all of that; you could taste yourself on the male, normally it would make your stomach turn but with him, you couldn’t get enough. You were eager to please him and you worked your mouth quicker, wrapping a hand around the base to move in sync with your mouth.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck, please don’t stop that, please don’t stop.” The older male moaned, his words almost sounding like a pleading whimper.

His fingers tightened in your hair as you pulled your mouth off with a pop. You looked up at the male through your lashes and flashed him a devilish grin.

“Cum on my face.” You stated bluntly as you stroked him quicker.

Joel was left speechless, he was dumbfounded as he watched you stick your tongue out, waiting to receive his load. You stroked him, your thumb brushing over the tip of his cock and that’s all he needed, his fingers still tangled in your head as his cock twitched; thick ropes of his cum hitting your tongue, painting your cheeks and chin.

You smirked at him and swallowed down his load with a soft moan. Joel’s head fell back onto the sofa and you sat back on your heels, face a total mess and feeling sticky with sweat all over.

“Fuck me.” Joel groaned, rubbing his face with his hands. “That was…”

“Unexpected?” You offered up with a soft laugh.

Joel laughed and looked back up at you, his cock twitched as he watched his load dribble down your face.

“Let me get you a cloth.” He laughed and kissed the top of your head before leaving the room.

He returned shortly after, as you were wiping your face and regaining some decorum, he put his mirror back up on the wall.

“How ‘bout we both go shower and then I actually teach you how to play that damned song? And how ‘bout this time, you don’t get distracted as easily on my fingers, hm?” He teased.

“Ugh, you’re the worst. Maybe don’t have such nice hands?” You retorted, pushing past him to run upstairs.

Maybe it was time for you to find a new guitar teacher.

———

#joel miller #joel x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal

[1-800-local-slut]

Home Is Where The Heart Is (Or Where's There's No People)

Klaus Mikaelson x Black! Fem! Shy! Reader

Reader is Klaus's girl friend. In public, she's shy the moment they get behind closed doors there's no stopping her

I don't know if this counts as a collab, but I'm going to count it as such. I couldn't have written this without @sublimecatgalaxy writing this beautiful work. Go check it out, it's so good omg. I hope you guys like this one and thanks again to @sublimecatgalaxy for letting me write this based off your work!

Warnings: Drinking, sophisticated party, nude painting, reader is horny at the end, allusions to smut, reader is really shy in public, this is a bit short, reader is a bit questionable, smutty thoughts, reader is thick, not a warning but I don't specify what the reader is, make no mistake the reader is a black woman, even tho I lowkey bully Marcel in this make no mistake that is my man, reader teases Klaus and calls him a whore lol

(No srsly, go check out this story it was actually wonderful)

Request are also open if anyone wants to send anything!

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"I just wanted a burger." She frowned, staring at the mirror while Klaus helped slide her body into her dress. Deep sadness and exhaustion reflected in her eyeballs, the same sadness that had been ever-present since Klaus reminded her of their party.

A peace offering with Marcel, which she argued was pointless and declared she could miss. Klaus naturally needed to object! How could he show up to such an event and not bring the most gorgeous person in the world with him? That and he needed another person who could agree with (mostly) all his judgments

"Once we make our way through the riff-raff we can stop on the way home." The custom gown was slid onto her body now, and it highlighted all the best parts of her. All the parts Klaus loved.

"I won't want to stop on the way home, I don't want to go outside in the first place. I hate these parties and I don't want to see Miss Tagrot. Oh God, I can't stand that woman, why does Marcel invite her everywhere? Don't tell me he's sleeping with that thing."

He smirked, smugly, once he turned out of her line of sight to button his sleeves properly. She didn't want to be around anyone besides him and selfish as Klaus was he was overjoyed by this.

She stepped off the small platform she was on that was surrounded by mirrors after a quick look over herself. She looked stunning like she was straight out of history. The dress hugged her figure, and her wig was styled into a gorgeous updo with two pieces of hair framing her gorgeous features.

Klaus needed to call their driver. He stole a glance out of their large bedroom windows after leaving their walk-in closet. Ass hitting the sheets, he shut his eyes for a brief moment to inhale. He could still smell the mix of their scents. A mixture of sweetness and the forest. Once he grabbed his phone off the dresser he let his mind wander.

His ears focused on the sound of the cars outside in his city. The people going about their business, the vampires hunting for a meal. How many of those cars were driving to the very place he was soon to be? How many would be at Marcel's little gathering (which is certainly pointless knowing Marcel and Klaus) tonight?

Suddenly her arms wrapped around his broad chest, and she overtook him. The bed sunk as she crawled onto it, and he felt her soft, long gloves snake around him. Her scent, her feel, everything. She was whispering in his ear, pressing soft kisses to his neck.

How was a man to resist in the face of such beautiful temptation? Don't ask Klaus, he could hardly manage right now.

"Klaus, let's stay home. I'll let you paint me naked again." She whined in his ear, bringing her nails up to his head. Scratching the back of his ears, she wanted to stay home.

"You don't have to lie, I know you like it when I look at you naked." Turning his head, his eyes connected with hers. His eyes found their way to her full lips, and he knew what needed to be done. A soft kiss to her lips and the idea of missing all the possible chaos and creating issues was looking more and more enticing. Staying home and stripping that gown off her sounded so, so much better.

He wouldn't be Klaus Mikaelson if he didn't show up fashionably late, and make an entrance. Blue eyes met dark ones with a buzz of excitement. Klaus fixed their bodies onto the mattress, where she was now flat on her back and Klaus towered over her. The spark in her eyes and the smirk across her lips told Klaus that she won. She won and she knew it, the little minx.

When her arms wrapped around his neck, Klaus dipped down to kiss her again. She ghosted her fingers over the nape of his neck drawing a little pattern.

He couldn't help himself and took advantage of the slit in her dress. While he ran his hand up her thigh and gave a healthy squeeze, Klaus's mind and heart were racing. How could have even thought about going to this party when his girlfriend was here, looking like a gorgeous blast from the past? As if she came straight out of the 1920s with improvements made to the dress that suited her style.

Her hands took a small squeeze at his ass, and Klaus chuckled. Then he was lying down right on top of her, grinding his hips into hers. He could taste tongue as they continued their foreplay.

She overwhelmed his senses so well that Klaus didn't hear Elijah walking up the steps until he knocked on the door. At first, he thought he was having an auditory hallucination but then she cut her eyes sharply to the door.

"What?" She snipped. That just made his suit pants even tighter.

"Sorry to interrupt, but there's a driver here for you two." Elijah chuckled. Of course, Elijah probably heard their passionate kisses and shared shuddered breaths.

"Of all the bloody things, I can never just stay home. Tell him we'll be out in a moment." Klaus crawled off her, wiping the smears of lipgloss off his face. He certainly smears her colored lip makeup all over his face.

"What happened to just wanting to stay home?" Klaus chuckled while she tried to fix the back of her hair.

"We can't just be rude, the drivers already come. It would be different if Elijah never told us but now I feel bad. The poor man is just trying to do his job." She muttered and ran her fingers across his chest. Klaus was perched at the edge of their mattress, and she was sitting up against the pillows, pulling him in like a spider catching a fly. That wicked smirk came across her face again and she brought her face closer to his.

Her eyes met his while she admired the smeared makeup on his face.

"You look like a whore. My whore." She snickered in his ear, running a hand over his thighs just short of where he needed her. He smiled, knowing this was going to be a hard night. Pun intended.

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She gripped him like a bad habit that you couldn't shake no matter what you tried the moment they stepped out of the car. She was Klaus's girlfriend, his wild card who couldn't be tamed, a bear who was standing outside its cave. But once they got somewhere with too many people, the bear went into hibernation and slept until it was time to leave. Not from fear, but simply from sheer kindness.

And Klaus loved knowing she was only quiet for the sake of others. For the sake of not wanting to make enemies of the entire city. Sadly, that was one of Klaus's favorite things to do.

The party was a typical Marcel party. It was moderately loud, there were flashing lights, and crowds of the elite mingled. Live performers and tantalizing meals were off to the side, and Klaus glanced up at the ceiling, seeing people mingling on the upper balconies. Other vampires, of course, Marcel didn't just let anyone up there. Klaus himself finally arrived, so the party could start.

They pushed through the crowds of people. Hello's, compliments, and well wishes were exchanged though Klaus met none of them. Like always, everyone took notice of Klaus's stunning companion no matter how badly she wished they didn't.

She didn't want to be standing in the center of the room (ironic considering that she was dating the man himself, Klaus Mikaelson) but there she was.

"There's the man of the century," Marcel called, making his way down the steps. Stopping before the two, she bristled slightly.

"Marcel." She greeted him curtly. All that needed to be said was said to him. He smiled at her, his grin reminding Klaus of a hunter about to shoot his prey.

"Ma belle." He took the gloved hand that wasn't latching onto Klaus and pressed a soft kiss to it. Deep down inside, Klaus was thrilled to know that this disgusted her. How long did it take for her to allow Klaus to hold her?

"Hm." She smiled politely but took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter who she grabbed with such strength that it showed how badly she wanted to leave. The only time anyone would grab someone for a drink with such ferocity was when that person wanted to be anywhere else.

"Marcel, thank you for inviting us to dinner." Klaus joked as the three of them eyed a woman who walked past them. Klaus hadn't eaten before they left like he usually does so he could hear the thrumming of blood all around him. Marcel let out his usual hearty chuckle and she stuck closer to him.

"Speaking of dinner," Drawing the two's attention back to him. Marcel ran his hands down the front of his suit, Klaus couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. It seemed like the drama Klaus lived for was finally starting.

"Can I show you something, Klaus?" Marcel asked in a more hushed tone. It was that time of night when Klaus sadly had to leave her alone for a bit to handle business. If it were up to him, Klaus would have her superglued to his side.

But alas, sometimes even Klaus Mikaelson couldn't have everything go his way.

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Finding her again was like finding a beacon of light in a dark room. Like a blind man seeing for the first time, Klaus's heart instantly became lighter when he found his beacon again.

Marcel was still upstairs, sleeping off the punch Klaus decided he needed and Klaus happily skipped his way down the steps. His eyes cleared the room once he identified everything he needed.

A random person (or two) for dinner and his light at the end of the tunnel. Thankfully they just happened to be bunched together in one perfect little conversation circle for Klaus to wiggle into. With long steps, Klaus felt a thrill building at being close to her again.

She stood politely, sipping on her drink, and pushed a strand of hair behind her ears. He could hear her heartbeat jumping in her chest and heard an uncharacteristic giggle. Klaus could tell she'd been attempting to drink away her discomfort, the discomfort that followed with his absence.

A piece of chocolate (he made a mental at how it was the same color as her but he refrained from telling her this, as she often expressed annoyance at being compared to food) slipped into her mouth that she grabbed from the treats table, the white lights that shone around the room made her look even more like an angel.

A flash of light came over her brown eyes and Klaus felt his breath stop for just a second. She was too perfect and Klaus wanted to just grab her and go instantly.

The closer he got the happier he got to see her. Sure it was a bit odd how it made him want to jump for joy to know she didn't want to be around anyone else but who was about to say anything to him about it?

"Klaus! Oh, it's great to see you, I wasn't expecting you to come but once I saw this one I knew you couldn't be far behind." Miss Targot, the bane of his girlfriend's existence. She pulled Klaus into a friendly hug, the fur of her collar almost getting into his mouth.

Of course, that tight grip returned to Klaus's side the moment he was free. She was holding his arm once more, and Klaus shook his head slightly. Glancing down, he saw that she was on the verge of being tipsy but thankfully coherent enough to give Klaus little to no issue tonight.

But alcohol did make her more frisky than usual, so it was probably best they made their exit soon before they accidentally shamed themselves in front of all of New Orleans. Or before Klaus decided to pull her into a random room.

Either way, he heard the sound of furniture splintering, and to his left caught a view of some of Marcel's friends pointing down at him. Certainly time for an exit. After all, he still owed her that hamburger.

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"Every time I see that bitch she sounds more and more obnoxious. It's all 'Oh Paris was wonderful' and 'I just adored my trip to Dominican Republic' bitch why are you not home with your children?" Klaus barked out a laugh as she perched onto her vanity seat and slid two earrings into her ears.

She rubbed cocoa butter onto her dark skin, while Klaus placed his paint brushes into his mouth and pulled the curtains wide open to let in the sunlight.

It was the next day now, the two had slept well into the afternoon. They were only woken up by someone throwing a brick through their living room window and this turned out to be someone with some grievances with Rebekah. Now they were sitting in their bedroom, while Elijah and Hayley prepared for the cleaners Klaus sent for to come. Hiding bodies and whatnot while Rebekah dashed around the city, a woman on a mission.

It was finally time for that painting she offered Klaus last night.

In her natural form, he could see her confidence, the fire that resided within her. Barren of heavy makeup, only a touch of blush and lipgloss with some clear mascara for her lashes Klaus felt like he almost didn't deserve to be around her right now.

She was so beautiful and perfect that with all Klaus had done, he didn't deserve to have her posing for him let alone dating him.

"They're probably paying for those trips, the miserable trollop she is I doubt they want her home very often." Klaus joked as he went back to his easel and resumed setting up his paints. Red, browns, deep greens (for the fainting couch she would be lying on), and the color of her large fancy robe. Klaus thought it made her look like a really pretty bird. A really pretty bird that would take out one of your eyes without much hesitation.

After all, it would be rude to snatch someone's eye from their socket.

She snorted, as she slid seductively onto the couch.

"I wouldn't." Klaus watched her get comfortable, with her well-practiced pose (the one Klaus always envisioned in his mind) and prepare to be drawn.

"You wouldn't want to be anywhere with her." Adjusting his easel, it was almost time for him to truly focus.

"No, I don't want to be anywhere without you. You literally know I don't like people, you make them tolerable. I know I'll have an eyewitness to the absurdity I see. Now enough about her, draw me like one of your French girls." Her brows wiggled and they both took a pause. Silence and then laughter.

The line from that ridiculous movie that Klaus was really mad that he actually enjoyed (and that admittedly turned him on) made him and her cackle. His sides hurt and the sides of his eyes crinkled. She was trying not to roll off the couch from how hard she was laughing, cackling actually, so loud that it was probably heard down the street along with Klaus's loud bellows.

The sound that came from their bedroom so often, usually induced by her, eventually settled from Klaus's doubled-over form. She somehow rolled onto her stomach and they both calmed down.

Eventually, the silence settled and they fell back into their usual conversation. Things about the baby, when she would be born, how much she liked snacks, Klaus teasing her and her telling him to lick her ass, Klaus of course thrilled to do so.

His pencil ran over the easel, the first sketch being perfectly designed while his mind wandered. She began to sing (horribly off-key though intentional) and Klaus lightly scolded her to hold still.

She was Klaus's girlfriend. His girlfriend who, for the sake of others, held her tongue in public but when it was just the two of them she was a shining star. A force of unstoppable grace and nature. His girlfriend, whom Klaus could just be a regular guy with and just laugh as loud as he pleased at nothing in particular.

Above all though, she was Klaus's. And deep down inside nothing else mattered more to him than that.

#black reader #x reader #x black reader #fem reader #klaus mikealson x reader #klaus mikaelson x black reader #tvdu #the originals #requests open #pls send request #multifandom account #elijah mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #hayley marshall

[moralesmilesanhour]

"I was briefly a runway model."

Summary: uhhh you go to a small concert and bump into the artist after you know how it goes 🔥🔥

genre: first meeting. again. [CROWD BOOS]

wc: ~600-700

A/N: I wanted this to be longer but eh maybe next time. You get another drabble instead 👍🏾enjoy!

The odor of sweat and cigarette smoke choked the air as your friend gripped your hand amongst the swaying cluster of bodies.

You didn’t recognize the band she had taken you to see, a rare instance now that you visited the small venue every Friday night. There’s a young white girl with half-shaved blonde hair and peachy ends playing her heart out on the drums, a big pink sweater tied around her waist.

The main guitarist and frontman managed to be an even more colorful sight; he wore plaid slacks with patches woven into them, held up by a shiny spike-studded black belt. His bright red knee-high boots should’ve clashed with his attire, but the way he propped it up on a stage speaker to play a nasty riff made them go together. He was tall and lean, but there was a bounce in his walk that told you that he was likely closer to your age.

These guys must be new, you think to yourself.

He said something crude on his electric guitar, the sound coming out jagged and crunchy. Large wicks radiated from his head, blocking out the overhead stage lights as he made his way to your section. You could hardly make out his face as he stood directly above you with the light shining in between the gaps in his wicks, resembling something like an angel.

After the concert, your friend would swear up and down that he was staring directly at you as you left the venue.

The dim lights of the pub reflected off of the wooden interior. It gave everything a golden glow, including the mahogany skin of the young man sitting next to you. 

The wicks and pants instantly gave him away as the night's frontman. The improved lighting situation allowed you to stare in awe at his sharp cheekbones and deep-set, somber eyes. You also recognized him from somewhere. Before you could gather up the courage to ask first, he addresses you with a sidelong glance.

"I got something on my face?"

You jump, and this makes him burst into breathy laughter.

"Sorry," you smile timidly, "I just thought I'd seen you somewhere before." The man’s pierced brow quirks up. 

"Lots of places where you could've seen me. You're gonna have to narrow it down."

"It was a magazine. Editorial, or something. Have you ever modeled?"

"I have, believe it or not. For a time."

"You've certainly got the face for it," you said quietly. The man heard it anyway, judging by the smirk spreading across his lips, so you quickly change the subject.

"Where you from?"

"Wouldn't you like to know, hm?"

You shrugged. "I just figured, lotta models are African."

"I think we're all African," he stuck a finger up in the air comically like a professor, making you snort.

"But...Haitian, if you've got to be specific about it."

Your eyes lit up.

“Oh shit, sak pase!”

Hobie chuckled. It was deep, and warm-sounding. Like an old friend.

“Nap boule. Can't speak much more than that, though.”

You leaned forward over the counter and started twirling the ends of your braids around your finger absentmindedly. 

“So, how’d you end up here? Having a pretty face must pay well.”

The man’s expression darkened for a moment. His tongue darted out to mess with the ring on his lip before his smile returned with less force than before. 

“Wasn’t for me,” he shrugged. “Didn’t pay too well, either. Had me scurryin’ around trying to catch a cab on an empty stomach at seventeen.”

You winced. “Yikes, sorry I asked.”

"It's all good," Hobie said. He watched you toy with your hair with a grin. 

"My face still comes in handy, though, for playing gigs."

"How so?"

"I get to meet pretty people like you."

-

Second hobie fic let's give it up for my second hobie fic whoooo

#hobie brown x black!reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #atsv hobie #spiderman across the spiderverse #moralesanhour

[tobyfoxfacts]

How to compose like Toby Fox

I analyzed Toby's music... here's the backbones to his songs, and various Toby techniques! I included ways to get started with recording your music! Read more to see 👀

Battle themes

For the music Toby uses in his battle themes, he starts with a 1-2 measure long riff. He gradually adds in more instruments, looping the original track from the intro. A simple tune you can hum to. After adding in several instruments, he adds the bridge of the song. He removes the beginning melody and lets the background music continue for a measure. Then he slows down the song and keeps one instrument. After that he adds a buildup and changes the octave, or adds harmony to the final chorus. At the very end, he adds a finale that ties the beginning to the end of the song.

Background music

For the background music during exploring, he makes the songs easily "loopable" so the beginning fades into the end. He uses orchestra sound fonts and ambient noise. During emotional short cut scenes he uses faint opera vocals as well. Don't forget the random wind whooshing sounds.

Instruments used

Undertale mostly focused on chiptune synthesizers and 8 bit sounds. Toby branched out to orchestra instruments in chapter 1 of Deltarune, and emphasized his piano skills. In chapter 2, he fell in love with the harpsichord that he'd romanced many years ago in his homestuck side gig. Thank goodness he left the weird overused synth pitch bending in his past. Good grief, that was... creative. Toby's been experimenting with brass instruments, which makes sense. Toby played trumpet in jazz band during high school. After his work on Pokémon, Toby's music has become diverse, and each song has a unique twist. Working with other artists was definitely a great step for him! Don't be afraid to reach out to other beginner musicians and collaborate!

Making music like Toby

To make music like Toby... experiment! Create a long-term relationship with the harpsichord and mash notes together until you find yourself playing them over and over, nodding your head in satisfaction. You gotta quickly record the track and tweak it later so you remember what it sounds like.

Simple ways to record music

Music professionals will K1LL me for this one. Here's some ways to begin recording music without buying that 1999$ springo bingo synth board with the doodoofart pro vst producing sound bit 2000.

Using these tips, you can record and change sound fonts! Once you record your track, you can mess around with the sound on your recording device! That's how Toby has so many instruments 👀

Look up videos on YouTube about converting music into wav and mp3 files. Toby didn't know what a wav file was when he began music production! Don't be scared of all these fancy weird words. You'll catch on! There's no shame in going on the web for help. Music production can get very complicated with random errors and shit. (I have cried over my piano before) That's what reddit is for! Frustration is inevitable. Just take a deep breath and STAY DETERMINED. Even if you can't play piano? Watch tutorials and practice! Toby is self taught and doesn't write sheet music!

If you have an electric piano keyboard, you can hook it up to a computer with a cable that's easily found on Amazon. You can also use an iPad pro, hook THAT up and record it in a program like garage band. I recommend investing in studio one 5 on your computer! If you've got studio one... get a vocaloid software bundle and mess around with piapro studio 👀 add vocals!!! There's some cheap vocaloids out there! Toby's worked with some vocaloid producers in the past! Mess around and have fun!

Get creative!

The keyboard is your playground. Toby says that simplicity is important. He mentioned this in the annotations included on the sheet music that came with the undertale collectors edition. You don't need to go overboard with advanced shit to sound professional. Some of the best songs are simple and catchy!

Toby would want you to be kind to yourself and your hands. Be patient. Music takes time! Make your own songs and follow your own path. Create your own style so when people hear your music they know it's you!

Good luck!

#toby fox #toby fox facts #indiedev #undertale #gamedev #video games #gaming #toby fox my beloved #tobyfox #tobyfoxfacts #musicindustry #music #musician #song #music tips #deltarune

[thirstbxtch]

Limb from Limb

Rated: Explicit. 18+ only.

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Gareth's Sister!Reader. No Y/N.

Summary: Harsh, cruel words babe/They're gonna cut me like knife.

Warnings: Drug Use, Hate Sex, Mild Degradation because hate sex but not too much because it's not really my thing, Spitting, Blowjobs, Multiple Orgasms, and a Dash of Angst at the end but I plan on writing a follow up.

Notes: Title and summary taken from the Motorhead's Limb from Limb (give a listen, it's so hot for real). Some italicized text is meant to be Eddie's own internal monologue and other text is italicized for emphasis, you should be able to differentiate based on context, but if it's confusing I can change it. Okay also, I was doing some "research" and Eddie doesn't have a headboard or footboard so he doesn't even have anything to handcuff people to on his bed, like smh.

Comments and Reblogs are appreciated <333

Eddie's a little early for their first band practice of the summer he realizes, parking his van on the street. He walks up the driveway, guitar case in hand. The garage door is open and Gareth's drum kit is setup, but he doesn't see Gareth. He's thinking about some new riffs he wants to share with the band. He fully intends on writing some kick ass material this summer. Maybe he can save enough money for them to do a demo.

He walks into the garage, wandering over to the inside door to let himself in when the door is pulled inwards for him.

You. Gareth's sister.

"Ugh, god Munson, what are you doing here?" You sneer.

You had graduated high school last year with a reputation for being the cheerleader with a bad girl streak.

"What are you doing here?" Eddie shoots back. "Aren't you supposed to be in college or something?"

"Or something? I'm home for the summer, dumbass."

Christ, you're such a bitch, that much hasn't changed, although he thinks you've somehow managed to get hotter during your year away, briefly eyeing your denim cutoffs and thin cropped t-shirt. You're different in a way he can't exactly put his finger on. Maybe it's just the mysterious allure of college girls, unexplored territory for him.

"And I'm here for band practice. Is Gareth around or have you already sacrificed him to your evil whore overlord?" Eddie asks, giving you a close lipped smile and a tilt of his head.

"Don't talk about sacrifices to me, freak," you say, narrowing your eyes before turning your head over your shoulder to call inside the house. "Gareth, Munson is here for your little, loser band practice."

There's a muffled shout from inside.

You push past Eddie, stepping over to the deepfreeze in the garage. Eddie is powerless to watch as you reach in, cutoffs riding up, revealing the curve of your ass as they do so.

It would so easy for him to just walk up behind you, press his hips against your ass--

You straighten and close the lid to the deep freeze, popsicle in hand--cherry. Your nipples are hard from the cold air and they push against the thin fabric of your shirt.

He picks you up, sets you down roughly on the deep freeze, hands gripping your hips, stands between the v of your spread legs and sucks at your tits just like that, right through your damn shirt, his tongue--

"See something you like, Munson?" You coo softly, unwrapping the icy treat and giving him a smirk before popping the tip in your mouth.

Eddie is saved the embarrassment of having to retort because Gareth comes out into the garage.

"Have fun, losers," you say, sauntering back inside.

Gareth sighs and rolls his eyes.

"She's the fucking worst, man, I swear."

"Yeah, totally dude," Eddie agrees, "the worst".

The next few weeks continue in much the same way. The summer allows them more time together as a band, so Eddie is over at Gareth's more often, leading to more quips and heated exchanges between you. Meanwhile Eddie's mind falls in the gutter whenever he sees you, when you reach into the fridge to get a beer, in the deep freeze to get more damn popsicles, the wicked little twist of your mouth as you insult him--he thinks about kissing the sneer right off your face. A hot, open mouthed kiss; maybe you would actually be quiet for once.

And it's after a few of those weeks, one night--quite literally the middle of the night--there's a sharp, persistent rapping on Eddie's trailer door. He's kind of high and it takes moment for the sound to break through the haze of drugs, but once he realizes it's real, he curses, rolling off of his bed, pulling on a shirt at least--he'd just been in his boxers.

He quickly goes to the door, where the rapping is still occurring, then pauses, what if it's the cops? Who knocks like that except for the fucking cops?

Here we go.

 But when he pulls the door open it's only you.

"Jesus Christ, what the fuck do you want?" He asks, demanding, mouth set in a line.

You're greeted by the sight of Eddie in an oversized band tee and a pair of soft looking black boxers. Long hair slightly more disheveled than usual. He looks good, you hate to admit it, he always looks good. Hell, you don't even think the band is that bad. More than once you've imagined Eddie bruising you with the same aggression as the music he plays. More than once you've thought about plucking one of his dumb little cigarettes out of his mouth as he sings softly to himself, writing and rewriting on frantic pieces of paper, just to finish it off yourself in one smooth, long drag, just so your lips can touch the same filter, just so you can have him look at you with those soft, dark eyes.

"I'm out of the drugs I brought with me and you're only dealer I know of in this godforsaken shithole," you say, pushing past him and into the trailer.

Eddie blinks, looking at the space where you used to be, then at you.

"Sure, yeah, just let yourself in."

He contemplates kicking you out, but he can't exactly afford to turn away a paying customer.

"What do you want?" Eddie asks again, walking past you and to his room.

"Pot, obviously," you counter.

Decidedly not obvious.

Eddie looks at you over his shoulder. No way, you're entirely too high strung to be a smoker.

"Didn't take you for the type."

"As if you know anything about me."

O-kay.

"How much do you want?"

You're in his room now. You've never been here before. Sure you did drugs in high school but you always made whatever jock boyfriend you had at the time buy for you. You had to wring Gareth's little neck for directions before you headed out tonight.

It smells like pot and cigarettes and stale beer and dirty laundry, but it's kind of comforting in a weird way. The walls are covered with band posters and whatever other nerdy shit he's into--Dungeons and Dragons.

You pull $50 out of the back pocket of your cut offs, glancing around.

"How much will this get me?"

Eddie counts the bills.

"Well for you, there's a special bitch tax, so let's say half an ounce." Eddie replies smugly, happy for the opportunity to hold the upper hand.

You set your jaw and glare at him.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Munson? That's enough for an ounce and then some."  You huff.

Eddie shrugs openly.

"Like I said, special bitch tax for you sweetheart."

He watches you bite the inside of your cheek and look at the floor before your expression completely changes to a soft pout.

"I'm sorry, Eddie, I'll be nicer I promise." You lie sweetly.

It's almost comical. He knows you're lying and you know he knows you're lying.

"I have a lot going on that you don't know about ok? Please, I really need this," you offer more sincerely.

Eddie sighs and looks away. Life must be so easy for you. All you have to do is bat your lashes and say pretty please. But he doesn't like to judge. Maybe you do have something going on.

"Fine, an ounce."

He looks at you and you give him a smirk.

"Better," you say with all the confidence of a cat who's won the cream.

He turns away, pocketing the cash and rummaging through his drawers and measuring out an ounce.

Eddie turns around, drugs in hand, and notices your gaze absentmindedly locked on his handcuffs.

"See something you like?" He lilts, giving you a wicked grin.

You scoff and roll your eyes.

"Please, Munson." You reply, tone dismissive.

Eddies grin only widens. He's high, his impulse control is decidedly lower than usual--like he really has any to begin with, and he can't resist the urge to wind you up.

"Please what? Cuff you on my bed?"

You take a step towards him, crossing your arms over your chest and raising a brow.

"You wouldn't even know where to begin with a girl like me."

"Oh, I know exactly where I'd begin with a little slut like you, princess."  Eddie returns, also taking a step forward.

"Yeah? You think you can show me a good time, Munson? Let's see it then." You challenge meeting his gaze.

Without really thinking, Eddie drops the weed and instinctively pushes you against the wall of his room. Hands gripping your hips like he's so often thought of and crushes his mouth to yours, mildly surprised when you return the kiss without hesitation, your arms locking around his neck. It's heated, teeth and noses bumping as you both fight for dominance, but Eddie manages  to lick into your mouth, stroking your tongue with his, biting at your bottom lip and drawing it into his mouth and releasing. His hand grips your jaw, tilting it upwards before you can close your mouth.

He knows he's taking a risk, but he's willing to take it, it'll be totally worth it. He gathers the saliva in his mouth, angling his lips above yours, and spits deliberately into your open mouth.

Your eyes flicker with anger, but when he covers your lips with his, you only moan and press against him. He licks into your mouth once again, thoroughly tasting you, sin and bittersweet.

"So the rumors are true," he murmurs, breaking the kiss, and bringing his mouth to your throat. "You are a slut."

"Fuck you," you spit, hating how this feels better than anything has in a long time.

"Whatever you want sweetheart," Eddie says lowly, nipping and kissing your throat.

While you're distracted, Eddie reaches for the cuffs behind you, removing them with a soft clink. Your hands are at his stomach now, palming his ribcage, so it only takes a little slight of hand to slip one cuff over your wrist, and then the other, clicking them into place.

You still and Eddie can't read your expression--part anger, part want, and Eddie is suddenly unsure.

"I can take them off ok? We don't have to do anything you don't want to," he says breaking, voice going gentle.

You only sneer in response.

"I can take it Munson. Do your worst."

Christ you're impossible. Instead he says, "Get on your knees then, sweetheart."

You sink to your knees slowly, obediently, hands cuffed in front of you, keeping eye contact. Eddie towers over you once your knees finally hit the floor. You can see the bulge in his boxers where he's hard.

"You like this, freak? You like seeing me on my knees?" You taunt.

"Not as much as you like being there," Eddie retorts in the same tone, palming himself through the thin fabric of his boxers.

"Suck me off?" It still holds the slightest inflection of a question.

We don't have to do anything you don't want to.

"Whatever you want sweetheart," you reply, throwing his own words back at him.

Eddie bites his lip, pushing down his boxers.

Your eyes widen and flicker at the sight of his hardened length, his perfect mushroom tip, your core clenching.

"Not bad, Munson," you tease through lowered lashes. "Might have fucked you before now if I knew you had such a pretty dick."

Eddie only pushes the tip against your lips and you open, sucking him in. He tosses his head back with a groan, one hand resting against the wall, and the other in your hair.

"Nothing to say now, huh?" Eddie asks rhetorically, hand tightening in your hair as you suck slowly at the head of his cock, completely aware that you're still the one with the actual power. He tastes strong and undefinably masculine. Your tongue teases the slit.

Eddie bites back a curse and looks down at you. You've got those big, blow job eyes and your cheeks are hollow. You only suck harder at his head, swirling your tongue around it and then letting it go with a pop. You look up at him, spit sticking your lips, and suck the tip into your mouth again, deliberately putting on a show, a show that Eddie watches transfixed as you swallow half his length, then all of it, your eyes closed now. He moans, cock twitching on your tongue.

You release him slowly, smirking up at him.

"You wanna fuck my pretty little mouth don't you, freak?"

"Your pretty little mouth was made for fucking, whore," Eddie returns, reaching down and cupping your jaw in one hand, swiping a thumb along your bottom lip.

You open for him and then he's pushing into your mouth, rolling his hips slowly at first, shaft sliding over your tongue, still watching with darkened eyes. He's already so close.

He thrusts into your mouth earnestly now, hand at the back of your head. Feels so good. Want simmering beneath his high. He loses himself, tip hitting the back of your throat. He isn't going to last long, but that's the point.

His hips start to falter.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

And then he's spilling down your throat, watching you swallow it all or so he thinks as he pulls his boxers back up. When he pulls out, you don't say anything, only stand and push him towards the edge of the bed until he's sitting on it, gripping his jaw with your cupped hands, slipping a thumb over his bottom lip, mouth just touching his, he opens and you spit some of his own cum in his mouth.

So fucking gross. Eddie loves it. He kisses you hungrily.

He grabs you by the waist and sets you down on the bed next to him, then stands, pushing the middle of your chest with one ringed hand so you fall back.

You look up at him from the bed through lowered lashes.

"How do you want me?"

"In the middle, sweetheart," Eddie says taking off his shirt, but leaving his boxers on for now.

You toe off your shoes and maneuver yourself to lie in the middle of the bed, placing your cuffed hands above your head.

"Like this?"

You bat your lashes.

"Just like that," Eddie replies, unable to keep the anticipation out of his voice.

He kneels on the bed next to you, deftly unbuttoning your shorts and drawing them down your legs.

There's a noticeable wet spot at the front of your silk and lace trimmed panties.

Oh.

"So wet for me already, baby." Eddie straddles your hips. "Do I turn you on? Ruining your panties for a loser like me? A freak like me?" Eddie leans down, lips brushing the shell of your ear and then nipping at the lobe.

You don't reply, unwilling to give him the satisfaction. That's ok, he's willing to pick his battles. You'll be begging before the night is over.

His hands cup your tits through the fabric of your shirt--no bra, of course, but he wanted to double check just in case.

Eddie brings his face to your chest, thumb finding and flicking over a nipple. Pleased when it tightens beneath the fabric.

He kisses it, tongue licking out, and then drawing it into his mouth, dampening your shirt. You sigh and arch your back, pushing your chest into the touch. Eddie obliges, sucking harder, teasing the other nipple with the pad of his thumb, before bringing his hand down to your panties, fingers ghosting over the silk. He sucks the other nipple into his mouth and adds some pressure with his hand, just lightly petting you now.

Eddie stays like that for awhile, teasing and sucking at your clothed tits, stroking you over your panties, occasionally bumping your clit, but nothing to give you any really satisfaction, until you're squirming beneath him, trying to press your hips up against his hand, but Eddie only grins, intentionally moving his hand away when you do so.

He stares up at your heated expression.

"Something wrong?" He teases, feigning innocence.

You huff, frustrated.

"Are you going to get me off or what, Munson? Or probably you don't know how."

"Oh, you wanna cum princess?"

He watches you bite the inside of your cheek.

"You're gonna have to use your words and ask nicely."

Another huff.

"Fuck that, I'll just go home and finish it myself."

Eddie sits back and moves off of your hips.

"What are you doing?" You ask heatedly.

"You're free to leave," Eddie replies, calling your bluff, "should I take the cuffs off?"

You curse under your breath, all too aware of Eddie's gaze and grit your teeth.

"Please," you offer grudgingly.

"Please what? Take the cuffs off?"

He's enjoying this too god damn much, but the almost unbearable ache between your legs is enough to make you choke down a little pride, so you bite your lip.

"Please Eddie, please make me cum, I want to cum for you like the good little slut that I am," you say, pitching your voice to faux neediness, nearly mocking.

And Eddie doesn't care, it still sounds hot as fuck.

"Now, was that so hard?" Eddie practically purrs.

You're rewarded with Eddie resuming his place, straddle your hips once again, but lifting your shirt this time, exposing your tits.

He mouths at them roughly and places two fingers over your clit, still outside of your panties, but applying pressure now, rubbing tight little motions, and you half gasp, half moan with relief.

You're already so wound up from Eddie's teasing that you cum suddenly, panting and gasping, grinding up against Eddie's hand through your now ruined panties.

He barely gives you time to recover before he's yanking your panties down the length of your legs, then leans over to tuck them in between the mattress and the box spring.

"You are not keeping my panties."

"Oh I absolutely am." Eddie returns smoothly, and you don't have time to argue about it because he's pushing your thighs apart, making space for himself, slipping his shoulders beneath them and licking your pussy without hesitation.

He groans, nuzzling deeper to devour you. You can't help but moan and the sound goes straight to Eddie's cock, half hard again.

He slips two fingers into you and starts fucking you with them, hard. The rings on his long fingers half disappearing with every thrust. You bring your still cuffed hands down from over your head to bury in his hair as he licks and sucks at your clit, your thighs starting to clench. He angles his fingers slightly upward, hitting that spot repeatedly, still sensitive from your orgasm not even two minutes ago and Eddie doesn't relent, your fingers tightening in his hair when you cum again just as sharp and sudden as the first time, his name falling loudly from your lips--Eddie, not your usual sneery "Munson", but Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

It's the sweetest thing he's ever heard and he's fully hard in his boxers, shifting his hips against to get some sort of friction but he doesn't stop finger fucking you until you're oversensitive and keening for him to stop. Only then does he pull his fingers out, gently kissing the inside of your thighs.

He shifts again on the bed and you think he's finally going to withdraw but he only returns to your pussy, lapping at you gently now, carefully aware of your oversensitivity and honestly you start to space out, kind of second hand high off of all the pot smoke lingering in the air, going lax, content to let him continue eating you out.

And Eddie can't get enough, the taste of you, the scent of you, thrilled with the thought of being behind enemy lines, your folds so wet and slick against his tongue, taking his time, mentally cataloging every caught breath and sigh. He wants you to cum again though so he begins licking and nuzzling with more intent. You still when at the touch of his fingers, but he's gentle this time, easing them in, lazily stroking and curling them.

You begin to feel that familiar ache. Eddie looks at you from between your thighs, eyes dark, knowing. He can be patient when he wants to be and right now he's being very patient, eyes slipping shut again as he quickens his motions and you start to grind against his face.

This time when you cum, it washes over you slowly and again Eddie laps at you until you're whimpering and oversensitive, pressing the heel of your hand against his forehead, trying to writhe away from him, but he wants to hear you say it so he continues.

"Eddie--Eddie, please," you say weakly.

There it is.

He finally stops, placing a last lingering kiss over your clit, and pulls his face away, resting his head on one of your thighs. His lips and chin wet and shiny.

For once there's silence between the two of you.

Eddie is however, painfully aware of his second hard on for the night and moves from between your legs. He reaches over, rummaging around in his nightstand drawer until he finds the handcuff key and undoes the cuffs, setting them to the side. He also reaches for a condom and your brows raise.

"I'm on the pill," you offer sugar sweet.

Eddie drops the condom back on the nightstand.

"So, how am I doing for a total loser? Still think I wouldn't know where to begin?" Eddie croons against your throat.

"Shut up," you reply, pushing a hand against his shoulder.

"Ready to take back what you said earlier?"

"You wish."

 Eddie only tsks in response.

"We're not even at the main event yet, Munson. It's taking you long enough."

He laughs now.

"That's right, princess. We're not even at the main event yet and I've already made you cum three times."

Eddie rocks back on his heels to take his boxers off before laying over you.

"Missionary? How vanilla of you, Munson," you taunt, although you hardly have the energy for anything else.

"Let's call it a litmus test, shall we?" He says rhetorically, lining himself up and thrusting into you, one, deep movement watching your mouth drop open.

One leg hooks around his waist and your hands roam over his shoulders and the expanse of his back.

He fucks you slow, kissing you languidly. It's nice--it's not something guys his age do very often or ever.

The head of his cock, the slide of him, feels so good, you kiss him back deeply, clinging to him.

"You wanna cum for me again?" Eddie says softly.

You pant out a "No".

"I'm sorry, that wasn't an actual question sweetheart," Eddie replies wicked as ever.

"You're the worst."

"Mmm, I am," he hums. "Just the worst, making you cum so many times for me. Have any of your prep boyfriends ever even made you cum? Or do you fake it for them?"

That manages to hit a little too close to home and your nails bite into his back.

"Fucking hate you," you exhale.

"Same here darling."

He's fucking you harder now, with the roughness you've imagined him capable of and when he kisses you, biting at your bottom lip, you cum again, blacking out as you clench weakly around him.

Eddie let's out a moan, almost a whine, white heat curling around his spine and spills inside you.

You stay entwined for long moments after. Eddie doesn't know if this is going to happen again and he wants to savor it. Finally he flops back on the bed next to you, breathless.

"Jesus," he sighs.

You lay limp on the bed, exhausted, trying to summon the will to move, but decide it can't hurt to lay here for a minute or two.

And then you're warm, everything is black, but you're warm and heavy. Something soft covers you, you try to turn over but you can't. There's something behind you, someone, their arm wrapped around your middle. This is hardly the first time you've woken in pre dawn hours in a strange bed, normally you disentangle yourself and go back to sleep, but you freeze when you realize whose bed this is.

It feels good, better than you would ever admit--warm, safe, secure. But you've been around long enough now to know how this goes and you feel suddenly empty.

"What the fuck, Munson? Are you trying to abduct me or some shit?" You ask, annoyed, moving his arm off of you and getting out of bed.

"Mmm, what?" Eddie responds half asleep, nuzzling against the pillow.

You're wearing his shirt from earlier, no idea when that happened.

Your eyes haven't adjusted and you click on the lamp on his nightstand so you can find the rest of your clothes.

"Hey, what?" Eddie says more awake this time, wincing away from the light.

"The fuck is this?" You ask motioning to his band shirt and the now empty space next to him on the bed.

"You passed out?" Eddie replies confused. "What? What's the problem?"

"I passed out so you thought I would just want to stay the night instead of trying to wake me up? You dressed me?"

Eddie gives a toss of his head. He's shirtless and his long hair falls over his bare shoulders.

"I just handed it to you, you put it on yourself when you were still half awake! And yeah, seeing as we just fucked each other's brains out, letting you be didn't seem outside the realm of possibility," he argues.

You sigh annoyed that you had let your guard drop, picking your shorts up off the floor.

"Fuck, sorry for trying to be nice I guess."  He apologizes sarcastically putting a hand up.

 You're willing to forgo your panties for time's sake. Shirt, drugs, shoes, keys.

"You gonna give it back?"

You're still wearing his shirt.

"Mine now," you answer cheerily. It's petty, you know.

Eddie rolls his eyes.

"Great." He replies tight lipped.

You turn heel and walk out of his room. Eddie watching you leave. The trailer door slams, your car starts outside. Eddie reaches over and clicks off the lamp with a huff.

#this whole thing is so extra #i love it so much #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut

[silverskye13]

okok i've another question but not an in-universe one; were there any rules or patterns you followed when coming up with the appearances of the helsmets for RnS? :V or are they all moreso based on What Seemed Right for each individual character :0

Mostly just what seemed right, to be honest! A lot of it is based on what I'm trying to do with them as character themes.

Tanguish started out as more of a riff on Tango as a fire-related character. Then I decided Tango would be fire/redstone, ergo his double would be ice/sculk. That eventually kinda balooned into his personality. He's contained, isolated, secretive, sneaky. But he seeps into things. If you've ever had to deal with your road deteriorating over winter, because water keeps freezing in the cracks and breaking the asphalt apart, that's his vibe. You almost don't know he's there until he's cracked you open.

Helsknight has a canon design, but his 110% was just me designing something that looked cool. My first Wels/Hels designs had Wels as a Ottoman inspired knight, with a focus on short, blocky shapes. Meanwhile Helsknight was more of a pointy anglo-saxon knight style, with a lot of triangles and sharp lines. Eventually when RnS started to reform my ideas, I decided Wels was a more caricatured english knight, with a lot of modern crusader/paladin vibes, and focused on making Hels a dark mirror of that. Giving him sharp, unapproachable armor was a visualization of him being an angry, brooding character [which is why, as a lot of people have noted, he opens up a lot more when he starts taking the armor off. That's also why, when he's feeling vulnerable, his nervous ticks have to do with the buckles on his gloves, or the hilt of his sword. He's trying to decide if he's going to open up about something.]

Martyn and Red both have canon designs as well, technically, since they're the 3rd Life versions of their characters, just a little to the left. The crown the Red King has, which covers his eyes, is a direct reference to Ren's quote, "The blood is dripping into my eyes. I can't see. I've been blinded by the violence." He's been blinded by violence, and finds it hard to keep his humanity intact when the crown is off. It binds him to his purpose as The Red King -- protecting people. Martyn in my head looks almost exactly like his 3L red life skin, and that's purposeful. He wants to keep a low profile. He doesn't want his other half to know he's his own entity that exists.

EB's design has a lot to do with his past and not his present. [I feel like I keep alluding to him having a backstory,,,, we'll get there someday.] The way I've put EB and EX as characters in relation to Xisuma, is they represent different struggles he's had at different points in his life. EX was the hubris of being a server admin, the desire for limitless control. EB was the pride of success, and the white knuckle grip it required to keep it. He used to be a very prideful, and very dangerous, person. And stung pride [ha! bee jokes] can lead to some very angry outbursts. So he looks very waspish, long and thin, and sharp angled. The fact that he's an android is 110% just because I headcanon Xisuma is a robot. Sorry doomguy I've fallen in love with the AI headcanon.

The Demon is a take on ImpulseSV's character trait of sharing that turns into exploitation. One of his big collab points with other people is the fact that he makes farms, and in 3L there was an entire plot point around how he kept giving people things, and all of those people individually agreed because he kept giving everyone things, he was on nobody's side, so, you couldn't really betray him, could you? The Demon therefore is a character who is determined not to be used or exploited in any way. He hoards his wealth like a dragon, makes pacts and bargains that only benefit him, like a demon, and his eye is always watching for a knife in the dark [don't think too hard about Tanguish taking knife lessons]. The man has, to put it bluntly, trust issues. So his design echoes that idea of a monstrous person so busy armoring himself he's forgotten how to connect with people. Bright golden eyes, impenetrable scales, armor and tools disproportionately strong compared to what he should ever be expected to use them for. He's daring someone to betray him, so he can be justified in destroying them for it.

I'm trying to think of other characters that've popped up.

Evil Sausage [I think the fandom calls him Bratwurst??] is mostly just a parody of some of his appearances in Empires. I liked how linked he was to Xornoth, so I imagine the shadow that makes his elytra wings is what's left of his union with Xornoth the demon.

Hels!Watcher Grian is both a reference and a handwave at the fact that Grian is an instigator. It makes sense that a fear, or mirror, for that would be someone who refuses to interact with the world, or maybe wants to but physically can't. Eye themes abound.

[loud shrugging]

Yeah, that's it. It's whatever seems right for what the characters are doing.

#answering asks #redstone and skulk #yayforstuffs #good question! #i like getting to talk about all the silly things that go into character design choices #rns asks

[earlgreytea68]

Every once in a while I get this twinge of guilt over the swan song books and how terrible I have been about making myself work on them and this morning during my commute I was renewing my vow to just sit down and DO THEM and it suddenly occurred to me, like --

I joined fall out boy fandom from inception, a wonderful, A+ fandom that has had no new canon in fifteen years and that was AWESOME tbh lol, and then I showed up in fall out boy just as mania was winding down and then honestly they did mostly nothing for years and I barely noticed because I was so used to quiet fandoms and so I thought I could just go about making plans for my life that were not about fall out boy.

And then we had, like, this astonishing year of our lives??????? Who knew this was coming????? I felt most of the time like the top of my head had been sliced off by these silly boys and everything they kept doing, and I think I *forgot* what an active fandom is like and how it eats your time. Which is not to say that I would trade a single second of this past year but more to say that I have decided to give myself grace hahaha how was I supposed to know this was suddenly going to happen?????

Anyway. I can't be too hard on myself when I spent this past year making sure to enjoy every single minute of it. And I did. I just finished a fic where Pete is so worried about living in the moment to remember all of it when it's over and I feel like that's what we all did for a full year, we just lived right here, in whatever absurd thing had happened now. Who could make plans? You never knew when Patrick might suddenly be playing the drums, or sliding up to pete to dissolve him into helpless giggles, or playing soul punk or pavlove or legendary or eowyg and whatever, how was I supposed to get novels edited in this environment hahahaha

Anyway, Pete Wentz, if you're still on Tumblr, thank you for the last year, which has been a blast from start to finish. I think you know we loved it but I'm just saying it again: We loved it. Not just the music, which was also great, and thank you especially for whatever you did to convince Patrick to have A Moment with his piano during the set. But also a special thanks from me for the gift of nightly Riff with Patrick, like, I will never get over that that just happened, over and over, and probably that really was about filling dead air while Patrick got ready for medley but whatever, it was a treasure trove of endless delight, thanks for that. Tell Patrick for us. (Also the interviews were all gold, too.)

Now maybe I'll get some work done???? Unclear lol

#fall out boy #fob

[shelbgrey]

I was hoping you could write a Jack Hodgins x reader fic if it's not an inconvenience. :)

Can't buy me love(Jack Hodgins)

-Based on season 8 episode 23 later on. This isn't the exact episode just a similar dialog and plot.

Paring: Jack Hodgins x Booth!Reader

Summary: after Wendell cheats on the reader with Angela, she thinks she's pregnant As Wendell trys to makes his relationship work with Angie, y/n finds comfort In Jack Hodgins. To get back at Wendell and Angela, Hodgins suggest fake dating so Wendell can see what he lost.

A/n: I plan on doing some headcanons for the king soon :) sorry this is so long and it's definitely not edited so sorry for that too.

MasterList

Everyone at the Jeffersonian knew that Jack Hodgins and y/n Booth had a different type of relationship, they were both Entomologist and boned it over it. They also seemed to always compete against each other (to Cam's demise), to a blind eye people might think they hate each other, with the insults they throw at each other. people besides them didn't know they were jokes are not, but then no one can insult her beside him.

When Wendell cheated on her, a riff was formed in the Jeffersonian. Y/n not only lost a boyfriend but her trust in Angela Montenegro, she loved Angela like a sister but after that event she could hardly look at her.

Hodgins was beyond pissed, it had nothing to do with Angela though. The two had been broken up for over two years and were good friends, there was no Jealousy. He was pissed that two people made the sweetest and kindest person cry. To Hodgins, y/n was pure and innocent... She wouldn't to crap to anybody.

A week went on and Angela didn't know if she was pregnant or not, y/n felt sick to her stomach when she heard. She played it off, pretending she was fine but the people closest to her saw right through her. They knew not to push y/n into talking, but Hodgins was the only one who had the guts to keep offering help.

~~~~~~~~(1st pov)~~~~~~~~

“enough Jack” I said swiping my card to get in the Lab platform, Hodgins quickly followed before it could close and I sighed refusing to look at him.

“well, I know what he did to you... And it's obvious your not okay” Hodgins stated seriously.

“I don't know what your talking about” I said gulping. I tried not to think about Angela and Wendell. Lately everytime I did I would just get angry and if I get angry I cry.

“what if there was a way to show him what he lost? Beacuse it looks like he lost somthing special. He's either too stupid to see that or too chicken to admit he's wrong”

“maybe both” I mumbled under my breath.

“how about we fake date” Hodgins said nonchalantly. My head shot towrds him bewildered he'd even suggest.

“excuse me? After all that's happening you want to get in bed with me?” I said jumping to conclusions.

Hodgins quickly shook his head. “don't flater yourself, I just want to help a buddy out” Hodgins said so plainly I almost believed him.

Hodgins sighed. “he's never looked at Angela the way he looks at you and I don't want him to screw up something great... If he sees what he lost maybe he'll snapped out of this little world where he thinks him and Angela will be okay”

Hodgins swiped his card and left as Wendell and Angela both walked in, he bumped Wendell's shoulder as he left. “think about it Little Booth” he said loud enough that Wendell and Angela looked up and watched us part ways as the elevator closed.

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

Later that night I went to the founding fathers with Temperance and Seeley. After awhile the two went off to do their own thing leaving me alone at the bar. I refuse to drink so I just sat there like an idiot. The bartender would often pass by and hand me different flavors of Pop and have small talk.

“Wisky, please” a voice said suddenly. I looked up and it was Jack Hodgins. I rolled my eyes as he took a seat two stools down from mine.

After a moment of silence I sighed and looked at him. He raised an eyebrow and smirked.

“fine I'll play your stupid game” I said rolling my eyes.

Hodgins smirked and scooted to the stool next to mine. He was about to get closer but I pointed at him. “but! If we're doing this there's gonna be some ground rules”

“your joking?” Hodgins said suprised.

I looked at him like I was dead serious. He nodded as I grabed a napkin from the bar. “using this” I said snatching the pen that was in his flannel pocket, he probably forgot to leave at the Jeffersonian.

“Rule number one, absolutely NO sex” I said giving him a stern look after writing it down. He rolled his eyes nodding.

“Rule number Two, never break rule number one” he gave me a weird look.

“I get it, you don't need to have the same rule twice” Hodgins said snatching the napkin and pen. I crossed my arms. “just making sure we're clear”

“Rule number three, you gotta help with experience when I need you” he said with a shit eating grin. I shook my head.

“Rule number four, ignor rule number three because You get me in trouble with Cam when I help.” I mocked.

“how else are we gonna figure out how a victim died?” Hodgins said scribbling over rule #4.

I nodded knowing he was right. I took the pen from him. “Rule five, no kissing or touching” I said, writing it down.

Hodgins looked confused and held his hands out on the table. “people are gonna find it strange I don't get to touch you when we're dating”

He took the pen before I could snatch it again. “Fine we can hold hands and you can't touch anything below the waist. If you have to kiss me it's gonna be on the cheek... And definitely don't touch my boobs” I wrote down the expectations and gave Hodgins the pen so he can decide the next rule.

“what about the forehead, your pretty short” he joked. I kicked him in the shin. He chucked flashing a smile that made me blush. I was thankful he missed it due to the dark room.

“no forehead” I said getting serious. “why? It's not your lips or neck” he asked.

“because I said” no one could kiss me like that except Wendell. It was one of those things that was so loving and pure that we had between us.

Hodgins was about to write something down but stoped and looked at me. His bright blue eyes studied me a bit as he suffered writers block for the next rule. He softly smiled. “your Beautiful, you know? I don't know why Wendell would be so stupid to give up someone like you”

I raised an eyebrow as I tried to cover the fact his words sunk deep. I chuckled and looked down. It was the first serious thing he's ever said to me. Our eyes met for a moment and in that time the bar went silent and there was nothing but us, God I loved how blue his eyes were.

I cleared my throat and Hodgins quickly looked down handing me the pen and napkin. “so what rule?”

“Rule Six... Yeah six I think” he said.

“you can't tell my brother because he'll probably kill you, he can't know it's an act” I said. Hodgins nodded, he knew how protective Seeley was. “as much as I hate to admit it, but your right”

“Rule number seven, I'm always right” I joked. Hodgins laughed not expecting me to actually write it down. He quickly grabed my arm. “hey, hey, your wasting room that can't be an actual rule”

I laughed and pushed him slightly. “too late” I joked. Hodgins snatched the pen. “Rule number eight, I can ignore rule number seven”

“okay seriously... Rule number eight, you have to go on dates with me” Hodgins said writing it down. I took the pen. “Rule nine, I get to pick the music and you shut your cakewhole about it”

He didn't write it down but I crossed my arms. “Rule number nine, skip rule eight and always listen to rule number seven” I said making Hodgins laughed.

“and rule number ten, you drive me to work every morning because I'm tired of being stuck in a car with Bones and my brother's love sick eyes every morning”

“fair enough” Hodgins said as I hand him the napkin. “last rule, you want to do the honers?” he took it, feeling of it vulnerable.

He didn't want this to end and this encounter was the most he's laughed with someone on a long time. Dispite all the rules and dangerous game he roped me into he did care about her and Wendell. He didn't want Wendell to have his girl back, he screwed up.

“Rule eleven, we can't fall in love with each other... Or hurt each other” Hodgins said writing it down.

Taking it as a joke(clearly it wasn't) I said. “that won't be a problem” I quickly singed it and so did he.

Hodgins' demeanor changed in seconds once again. “kiss to seal the deal?” he leaned in but I scoffed and got up.

“can't hate a guy for trying” he called out. “see you bright and early tomorrow sweetheart” he called out as I left the bar with the napkin of rules in my pocket.

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

The morning before work me and Hodgins went to the Diner for breakfast. We didn't say much just talked about the case and tarantula we got as a new lab pet, his name was Gus if you want to know. It's almost been a week since we started this whole charade and it was slowly getting out of control but at the sametime so comfortable.

What I mean by that is, Jack was the most easiest person to be around. He knew how to make me laugh and he was such gentman, with his child like manner you wouldn't really expect it.

With Wendell he was very stand off-ish and would be too nervous to do anything with me. But with Jack he took the part of being a fake boyfriend a little too serious, he would hold doors for me, make sure I ate something, and was always checking on me during work. Wendell wouldn't do that, I was pretty much on my own in the relationship.

The down fall was my best friend Arastoo Vaziri wasn't buying it, me and him had been best friends for as long as I could remember. The down fall is he could read me like a book.

“Hey Arastoo” I smiled when he came over and sat with us. Arastoo smiled at me then shot Hodgins a questionable look. I kicked him under the table, telling him to knock it off.

The three of us continued small, as Hodgins was gulping down his coffee Arastoo looked at me and cleared his throat. “y/n, I need to ask you something”

I was about to ask what was up, but all of our phones when off. “the remains are at the lab” I said.

“Brennan Said we had to be careful going in and to make sure the vires don't get spread, we taking major precautions” Hodgins added grabbing his jacket. He was the first to head for the exit of the diner, as I left Arastoo cought up to me so we were walking shoulder to shoulder.

“can we talk later?” he asked sweetly, I nodded and walked to the door Hodgins held open for us.

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~

Jack and I walked into the lab holding hands, at this point I didn't care that he always made a point of doing it...it was nice really.

Anyway, when we walked in people were sealing up the lap platform with plastic that said biohazard in big red letters. “I feel like I'm stuck in the same hospital ET was in” I said as we walked around people who were runing around frantically.

“I want all the venting double checked for leaks” Temperance said as we walked up to her.

“are we gonna have enough hazman suits for everyone?” I asked, Arastoo came back to me as he pushed a cart full of tool.

“we'll have just enough I think” he said, “the last three are for us” he told me and jack.

“the CDC is downstairs in holding, waiting intill we get all set up” Temperance explained.

The four of us followed Temperance into Cam's office, all the space suit that we had to wear was in there. Wendell and Angela were already in there suiting up. Temperance told us to get ready, so we quickly got the suits on while Cam fed us information about the case.

“the CDC sent over preliminary photos from the body find, they were inspecting a facility in Maryland that disposed of biohazard waste” she explained.

“and the remains were found with veterinary water?” I asked. “yeah” Cam nodded.

“do they have any idea what the infection is?” Jack asked as he helped me zip up the suit.

“they initially suspected necrotizing fasciities” Temperance said, turing awake from the computer.

“flash-eating disease?” me and Aristoo said in sync.

“Yes, but the decomposition was too rapid.” Temperance said. “and it wouldn't have damaged the bone so severely”

Wendell sat there silently as he watched me ramble about the case. “damage that advanced from fasciities would normally take at least 3-4 days”

“well, so far we don't know if it's viral or bacterial” Temperance said. “so we could be looking at some outbreak disease situation?” Angela asked.

“basically” I said putting on the 'astronaut helmet' on and walked towards the lab.

“we have a mass spec up there?” Jack asked as we entered the biohazarded platform, Cam quickly answered 'yes' before Jack continued to ramble.

“and a centerifuge?”

“Yes, Hodgins it's all up there” Cam said intruping. After that the team surrounded the remains with precaution.

Usually remains and skeletons don't bother me, but this was sick. It was the this big box full of what looked like jell-o that hadn't fully formed, and the Skelton was stained red and covered in a slimy substance.

“looks like the nervous system was hit, were they tortured or something?” I asked.

“looks like the victim was a 25 - 35 year old female” Arastoo added.

“We're dealing with a singal strands rna virus” the CDC guy explained. “a mutation that doesn't depend on the cell cycls do replicate”

“that explains the bone damge” Wendell said, finally speaking up.

“here's some larvy, Jack” I said grabbing the creature with some tweezers. “that could help us find out where she was dumped and how long” Jack added.

“we need to ID the victim as soon as possible” CDC spoke up.”

We continued to work, studying the remains and cleaning the Bones. There wasn't enough to find out who she was, what we did find out thst this virus was intentional and we could be looking at bioterism.

We worked into the day and even found a possible suspect after Angela and Temperance photo-ID the victim. After awhile I got the word Seeley and Lance was questioning the possible killer, we still didn't know enough so we got the okay to go home after we got cleaned up and sanitized properly.

The Cdc dude suggested the team stayed close to together and not go to public places incase of an outbreak, or at least that's what Jack said. I was too tired to argue so we went to my Seeley and Temperance's place to watch a movie.

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

“here” I said handing him a bowl of popcorn then turning to the dvd player Seeley brought when I moved in. “so what a we watching?”

“We're watching Harry Potter” I clicked the on button and turned to him. “new rule, you have to watch this franchise with me and no complaints” I joked.

Hodgins chuckled as I unintentionally put my hand on his knee as I sat down. “which one are we watching? Isn't there like a dozen now?”

“there's 8 movies and we're watching the third one... It's the best one” I said shoving some popcorn in my mouth.

After about thirty minutes in Hodgins started to get bored, he set the empty bowl of popcorn on the coffee table and looked at me. “What did Vaziri want? I knew he wanted to talk to you today”

Not looking away from the the TV and spoke. “He's was just worried about me and wanted to talk”

Hodginssighed and I think there was a hint of worry. “oh yeah... You okay?”

I sighed and looked down. “I don't know... Arastoo is my best friend and I can't lie to him” I looked down.

“you told him” Hodgins said sighing, he looked at me again. “it's okay”

“he said he won't say anything, but maybe we shouldn't be doing this... We're hurting Wendell and Angela... that's not okay”

“but him hurting you is okay?” Hodgins asked serious. I looked at him with sad eyes.

“Angela hurt you too” Hodgins sighed and looked into my eyes. “that was a long time ago...I don't care about that anymore”

He looked down the back up, his blue eyes locking with mine. “if you were mine I'd never do that to you”

His words ran through my head like a tornado. I didn't know what I was doing anymore, Angela was one of my best friends and I'm here playing a practical joke with her ex. I didn't want to fall in love again, but with Jack everything was so brighter and genuine.

I don't know what possessed me but I turned to him and planted a quick kiss on his lips. Hodgins' eyes widened and slightly pulled back. I gulped feeling I made a big mistake.

“I'm sor-” I was cut off as his hand cupped the back of my neck pulling me closer. Our lips coiled in feverish kiss.

I swang my leg over him and stratled his lap as our lips locked. His hands fell and grip my waist, our eyes locked as I grind against his hard erection which strains against his jeans, I move my hands to the back of his neck, running my fingers though his hair. His hands moved the the back of my neck pushing his lips harder to mine. His toung gently touched my bottom lip asking for entrance. I granted him entrance as my hands fell to his belt.

“Wait” he sighs lowly, grabbing a hold of my hands before they are able to unbuckle his belt.

I pulled away and pressed my forehead to his catching my breath. “are you sure you want to do this? This breaks every single rule”

I shook my head pressing my lips back to his. “screw it” I said against his lips.

Throwing out all logic we both had out the window, I slowly melted into him as he leaned down to my neck, kissing down it as the scruff of his beared tickled me softly. My soft giggle was interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing, he groaned and picked It up

“yeah?” he stoped for a second and nodded along. “we'll be there”

I sighed knowing we had to make a late night trip to the Jeffersonian.

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

Once we got back to work I had to get to the lab and help with the body. Me and Aristoo had to help Temperance bag the remains.

It all happened so fast, as Arastoo lifted our side of the Skelton he winced in pain and jerked back. When caught the Skelton I felt something shank the palm of my hand.

“ow” I hissed and Temperance raced to the two of us with the CDC guy behind.

“we need get the both of you sterilized and fast” he said as he pushed the two of us to the sink. Arastoo winched in pain as the water and alcohol poured into his cut. Temperance was doing the same with me but I refused to look at the cut on my palm.

“what happened?” Cam asked, coming in with Jack. that's when I made the mistake of looking, my eyes widened and I felt a shiver roll down my spine when I saw my blood run down the drain.

Iifted up my drinched hand as is shook. “oh shit”

My eyes rolled back and fell to the cold floor. “y/n!” I hear Jack shout.

Yeah, I don't like the sight of my own blood...

I don't remember much after that, I felt Jack lift me up and shake me while Arastoo shouted at me to wake up as Cam ordered for a bunch of medical Mama jumbo. I swear I heard me and Arastoo were under quarantine though...

I woke up feeling a sickening pain in my stomach and head, I gulped and quickly set up as I felt my face dripping with sweat, when I sat up the pain shot through my legs but I wasn't bad. I sat Inian style on the medical bed as I looked around.

“Arastoo” I gasped as he looked just as bad, he winced and looked over to me, he tied to smile but failed. It hurt to do much of anything. wined and doubled over, feeling my whole insides getting boiled alive.

“I'm right here, your okay... W-we'll fix this” Jack rambled as he raced to my side and started rubbing my back. I looked up at him with tears in my eyes, but felt so relived to see his ocean blue eyes.

“you shouldn't be here, you could catch this crap” I wined as Jack helped me lay back down. “I don't care” he whispered.

“none of us do, we just want to make sure your both safe” Cam said, I looked over and saw her holding Arastoo hand. I smiled at her softly, she had always had our backs especially mine. She was the closet female friend I had during my break up, Temperance ment well, but Cam really just let me feel the heart break and was my shoulder to cry on.

As the hours went on it felt like we were just getting worse and worse. Arastoo's heart rate was decreasing while I felt like my appendix was exploding every ten seconds.

I was in and out most of those hours, I heared shouting and tears... Lots of tears. I would feel Jack holding my hand everynow and then, but the bright lights of the room made my head pound every time I would open my eyes to look.

“Arastoo...” mumbled once the pain became almost too much to handle. I turned my head and saw him painting as sweat beaded his forehead.

He slowly turned is head and looked at me, he smiled softly as I spoke. “We're gonna get through this, promos me you won't die”

“you promise first” he said horsely as he held his hand out to me. It shook as he stretched it out. Before it could fall I linked my hand with his.

It went dark again and couldn't feel his touch anymore as my arm went limp. “y/n? Y/n!”

--(3rd pov)--

Jack and Temperance came runing into the room where Arastoo and y/n where. Jack's eyes widened as he saw the state of the woman he loved. The tray he held shook as tried to keep it together.

There was so much arguing and fighting, when Seeley found out about who let the vires out he was beyond pissed, especially when he found out his little sister fell victim. The criminal fought tooth and nail and even tried to stop Jack and Temperance from using what could possibly be a cure.

Jack sent over to y/n's bed side, the guy tried to stop him but Seeley slammed him against the wall.

“if you try to stop me from saving the woman I love, I will kill you” Jack said through his teeth.

“that won't be nessasary, do it Dr. Hodgins” Temperance said as Seeley tackled him to the ground and cuffed him, this was very much personal for him but he couldn't lose his cool.

Seeley dragged the guy out while Arastoo and Y/n both got the cure, Arastoo's heart rate regulated and he could finally take a breath without hurting. He looked over at his best friend and waited impatiently for her too wake up, it was taking longer to take effect.

“come on n/n...” he sighed.

Jack held her hand and tried to keep his cool, tears pricked the corners of his eyes as her heart rate stablized. She let out a cough with made the room sigh with realife.

Jack let out a happy cry and held her in his arms. “thank God”

~~~~~~~~(1st pov)~~~~~~~~

The Paramedics had to come by to make sure me and Arastoo were healthy, Jack never left my side which I was greatful for.

During the events where I was passed out cold I heard everything, call it an out of body experience that Temperance wouldn't believe. But I never relized my feelings for Jack until he said he loved me. I relized it's always been him from the very beginning.

“you ment it right? That you loved me” I asked as I was being wheel to the exit of the Jeffersonian, the medic left to get Arastoo leaving us alone.

“of course... I love you” he said looking at me with those beautiful blue eyes.

“I would kiss you but I might still be contagious” I said with a smile, Jack chuckled and kissed my forehead softly.

That night never left my side and for the first time I felt completely content, he made me feel things I never felt beofere and it was no longer some kinda joke, it was true.

#Jack Hodgins #Jack Hodgins x reader #Jack Hodgins imagines #Tj thyne #Bones imagines #Bones x reader #BONES #Seeley Booth x reader #Jeffersonian #Arastoo Vaziri #Arastoo Vaziri x reader #King of the lab

[vanfleeter]

i’m back to be a menace about dad!jake once again 🤍

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTLMh6Axg/

Anon,

I love you. Don't ever stop sending me these 🤍

But imagine with me, shall we? Something similar to this video.

🩷

Jake makes breakfast for him and Lily (using my own oc's here). He makes her favorite Mickey Mouse shaped pancakes and mixes together strawberry milk. He wakes her up with a gentle kiss to her forehead, brings her down for breakfast.

After breakfast, he gets her in the bath and all the while she babbles on about how excited she is to have a daddy-daughter day with him and also all of her uncles.

He'll brush her hair out and pull it back into a braid so she can look just like Daddy when he has his hair braided. He'll let her pick out her outfit, which consists of pink leggings, her unicorn shirt, and a pink tutu to match.

She's in tutu phase.

Then he'll help her put her shoes before strapping into her car seat.

She hangs off of his shoulders on his back while he plays a riff that flows with Sam's bass. She'll try to sing the high notes like Uncle Joshy but it really only sounds like she's screaming. But, "Hey, she's trying." Uncle Joshy will say.

Rose, Uncle Sammy's dog, will then come into the living room and even though she's met her a million times, her size still freaks out Lily who clings to Jake and hides behind him, asking him to "keep the big doggie away." "She's very loving," He's gently speak as he pets Rose behind her ear. "She won't hurt you, she loves you."

They'll all eventually retreat out to the backyard of Uncle Sammy's house, toss around a frisbee with Rose. Kick around a soccer ball that Lily can't quite kick up with so Jake shortens his strides and kicks it soft enough that she can keep up. He'll stand in front of the goal, pretending to be goalie but lets her kick the ball into the net before cheering, "Lilian Kiszka with her first goal of the season!" All four of them will hoop and holler, making her laugh loudly and bury her face into Jake's shirt.

Soon the time comes where it's time to head home. It's oddly quiet in the back of the car as Jake drives. Usually Lily will be back excitedly talking a mile a minute about her day, recounting all of the events and making mental notes on what to do the next tome they have a daddy-daughter day. So when he looks in the rearview mirror when coming to a red light, he finds her knocked out in her carseat. He'll smile and chuckle with a little shake of his head.

And when they get home, he'll carry her inside and up to her room for a short nap before dinner. She'll flutter her eyes open as he flicks off her bedside lamp and call out to him. She'll say she had a fun day with him and wants to do it again.

He'll smile and kiss her cheek before insisting that she can get some rest before dinner, only for her to beg to lay with her until she falls asleep. He can't say no when she pouts and bats her eyes. "Alright," He sighs before carefully laying down beside her. He'll hum a little tune, a made up melody he came up with which soon turned into her song, Lily's Song.

Soon he'll find himself giving in to sleep and falling into a slumber with Lily cuddled up against him still with her tutu on.

#jake kiszka #greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fanfic #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka fic #gvf #dad!jake #jake kiszka fluff

[lord-ofthe-bands]

Interview [12/05/82]

[00:00]

Interviewer: Alright Mr.Merridew, ready when you are.

Jack: Just Jack is fine.

Interviewer: Alright Jack, mind if we get started?

Jack: No, not at all.

Interviewer: Perfect! Now, the people are curious. How did your band "Lord of the Flies" come to be?

Jack: Well, it actually started with me and my good friend Ralph Allabach-

Interviewer: Ah yes! Ralph. He was in here a few days ago with that Peter kid.

Jack: [clears throat] As I was saying, Ralph taught me how to play guitar about 2 years ago. It really was just us and his sister Raven in a small, town-home garage. The rest is history I guess you could say. Me 'n Roger have been friends for ever so he started tagging along when he picked up bass. Me and Ralphie met Simon and the twins at the start of the next school semester in our geometry class. From there we just kinda formed our bands with our people. We are all very close. I mean, life's borin without some friendly companion, amirite?

Interviewer: [chuckling] Did you say Ralphie?

Jack: Of course darlin.

Interviewer: I see you have a thing for nicknames. Tell me more about yourself, Jack.

Jack: [note, Jack seems to get anxious after being asked this question] Well, what'chya wanna know?

Interviewer: Let's start simple, how's your school life? If I'm not mistaken, you're sixteen, correct?

Jack: Yup, born in '66

Interviewer: Ah, good times. So you're in...

Jack: 10th grade. I'm a sophomore. Back to your previous question, school sucks ass to be honest. But I can't complain too much. I'm passing and that's all that really matters.

Interviewer: Highschool wasn't the worst years of my life but they certainly weren't the best. I do remember my girlfriend my senior year. Jenny Thompson. Do you have a girlfriend, Jack?

Jack: [chokes on the drink he was previously sipping, his cheeks get noticeably red] No, sir.

Interviewer: Ah that's all right. You've got plenty of time. Tell me Jack, why did you pick electric guitar out of everything?

Jack: I knew it would piss my mom off. I also heard Ralph practicing one day and, I don't know, kinda decided that I wanted to do that too.

Interviewer: I see. Now, why rock? I'm more of a Beatle's fan myself so I'm not familiar with the rock genre.

Jack: Hey, the Beatles are awesome. I've loved rock ever since Ralph and Raven got me into it. My parents are...uptight, so we mainly listen to classical and country in my house. Anyways, I just love the pure, raw emotion in rock, you know? Plus, I love a good riff to play. Simon is, like, insanely good at drums so it's fun to play stuff with him.

Interviewer: [chuckles] I didn't picture you as much of a Beatles fan. Your folks like Johnny Cash?

Jack: No, not really.

Interviewer: Damn shame. I can't help but ask, your hair. Is there a reason you keep it so long?

Jack: Ralph likes it and my mom hates it.

Interviewer: I see. You seem to have a lot of teen angst. Any reason to that?

Jack: My parents are assholes. My mom is an entrepreneur and needs things to be perfect and done her way. My old man's got a thing for cigs and isn't home often. I don't mind really, I'm usually at Ralph's house anyways.

Interviewer: I'm sorry to hear about that. Your folks seem to be busy trying to manage work and home time. Now Ralph, you guys been friends for long?

Jack: I've known of him for a while but we became friends 8th grade year in english.

Interviewer: Ah, I see. That's cool, it's good to have close friends. I have just a few more questions written down here Jack. Sound good?

Jack: Hit me.

Interviewer: [snickers] Alright then. Who inspired your style of music?

Jack: Oh boy. Uhhhh let's see...Queen, for sure. ACDC as well. Billy Idol, Metallica, Talking Heads, Heart, Judas Priest, Pink Floyd, KISS, Ozzy, stuff like that.

Interviewer: You've got great taste from what I know, young man.

Jack: Thank you!

Interviewer: Alright, we are running out of time but I do have room for one last question. What do you hope the future of your band looks like?

Jack: Oh, that's a good question. I uh..I don't know to be honest. I just sorta take things one day at a time. I haven't thought that far ahead.

Interviewer: That's a shame. Well Jack, thanks for your time. It was a pleasure meeting you.

Jack: Same to you sir.

[The two stand up and shake hands]

[Video cuts]

[10:48]

#lord of the bands #tw:implied child abuse #lotf au #jack lord of the bands #lord of the band interviews #the start of the au #lotb #band au #celebrity interviews #jalph #implied jalph

[takemealivelh]

heart is gonna flatline || l.h.

tour puts luke and lucy's feelings to the test. addiction to sex, alcohol and weed for when things get hard. SMUT.

this was so fun to write ! loved to participate in the @5sos-fic-fest this year. hope you enjoy this. here's the ao3 link.

7.1 k

FEEDBACK IS ENCOURAGED AND APPRECIATED

Prompt Au where the characters are both famous musicians with their own projects who have a well-documented public friendship. When they announce a tour together fans go crazy, as do the shippers. As the tour progresses, maybe the shippers are on to something…

Pop-rockers 5SOS and Latina indie-rocker Lucía Huerta announce tour together Last year, there were rumors about the frontman of the Australian band -Luke Hemmings, 27- and relatively new sensation Lucía "Lucy" Huerta, 28. They'd been caught leaving West Hollywood bars together, late at night, on numerous occasions. They put the speculation to a stop when in June 2023 Lucy uploaded an Instagram story of her and the blond having a drink. She tagged Hemmings and wrote "that's the homie", to which Luke replied in his own stories "that's me :)". They've been seen hanging out repeatedly since then, but it doesn't seem any more platonic than work friends. And speaking of work friends, 5 Seconds of Summer and Huerta just announced a 2024 tour that definitely excited fans, not just because of the vibrant shows they expect to see later in the year, but also because they want to see how the relationship of the two stars will develop during the four-month North American dates. Here at Music Getaway, we'll definitely keep a close eye on them.

-

"i'm not ready to tell them yet," lucy says to his boyfriend as she leaves the coffee cup on the kitchen counter next to them. they've been dating for eight months. it's been hard to hide their relationship from the press, and luke isn't too keen on the idea. he actually hates it. but he loves lucy. he loves that she's a talented musician, her laugh, her jokes and her business smarts. and he just can't enjoy this in peace, not with being so secretive.

"you've been saying that for months now. when are you gonna be okay with this? with us?" luke doesn't get it. why hide when they go out on dates and he can finally press a hand on her ass in public to stop the thirst traps people seem to tag her on. hoping to get a chance with her? fuck no. the blond wants her all to himself, he can't deny that.

lucy twists her lips, stalling. the smell of freshly brewed breakfast coffee dancing around them. "you don't understand." she finally says, reaching a hand to touch his arm for a few seconds. the thought of being out in the open with luke would change everything. "people will treat me differently. they might not respect me anymore."

"what are you talking about?"

"luke, come on. i got my own interview with kelly clarkson and then i played the iheartradio festival." they'd been incredible opportunities. "all of my hard work goes away the minute they know we're together. they'll say oh she was fucking the rockstar and he got her those big breaks. i don't want that. i don't want people to minimize my efforts."

luke sighs and shakes his head. "is that what's more important?" lucy shrugs. "okay," he finally says.

"okay?"

"yeah. it's fine. i get it. i won't bring it up again."

lucy throws her arms around his neck. "thank you," she whispers before kissing his lips softly. "i love you."

-

luke sits with ashton outside the rehearsal room. they've been playing for nearly two hours and they need a breather, especially because luke's mind is spinning. "i don't know, man. it sucks." they hear chattering on the other side of the door, a few guitar riffs and then laughter.

"of course it sucks, mate," ashton tells his friend. "she doesn't want to be in your shadow. it really fucking sucks and you better not fuck this up for her. you know how hard she's been working." he had grown fond of lucy. she was as much of a fan of drums as he was. he taught her a few fills and she invited him to do yoga and get high, ending up talking about how the unconscious force of creativity is beyond any of us. ashton doesn't want to see her heartbroken because of her boyfriend's, his best friend's inability to trust someone who really loves him.

-

luke's insecure, there's no question about that. after his marriage fell apart, he fell into a depression. and when he got better, he found this woman in the venue of the iheartradio festival, she was wearing cool sunglasses and stevie nicks-looking clothes. hippie goth he would've dared to say. they were watching the soundcheck of another band and started talking after she took out a cigarette from her backpack and asked him for a lighter.

"sorry, no. i don't smoke."

"that's okay," she smiled. 

that was all she said before looking for -and eventually finding- a lighter in the outside pocket of her small backpack.

the man looked up at the sky, the sun shining bright and the warm air of the field. he squinted one eye and turned to her. "they sound pretty good," he said of the band that was talking onstage, between songs. she nodded her head. "do you know them?"

"not personally, no," she replied and blew smoke out in a thin line. "but i've been a fan of them for a while now. they're one of my favorite indie bands."

that got them talking, eventually introducing themselves and catching up later after each other’s set. there was chemistry and flirting. luke's band immediately caught up to what was happening, when he said he was gonna congratulate lucy and be right back. but he didn't and it took them a full while to find him, thirty minutes before they went up and played.

-

"you got a lighter?"

calum nods and lights the cigarette for her. the smoking area of the building being a small parking lot.

"thanks," she breathes out. "you out here on your own?"

the bassist nods. "it's a good place to think."

lucy smiles and rolls her eyes. “cheesy,” she says with a grin.

"where's loverboy?" he asks, a cheeky smile on his face. calum was the first one to see them kissing. it was an afterparty at his band photographer's place. he'd gone to the kitchen when everyone started leaving, eight in the morning. when he went back to the living room with a cup of coffee, he saw lucy snuggled up to luke, smiling at him. luke smiled back and leaned in to kiss her. "aren't you guys glued to the hip anymore?"

lucy chuckles, "i don't know. there's... a lot happening."

"i'm listening."

"uh... okay. so... we decided to not tell everyone yet that we're dating. Not even with the tour. and i think he's mad at me."

"why do you say that?"

"he's been more... distant. and i don't know if that's what i wanted but it feels like... payback. like, you banned us and now i'm gonna make sure you feel it type of thing."

"i'm sure it's not that."

a bitter chuckle leaves her lips. "helpful as usual, cal."

-

cincinatti, first stop of the you don't go to parties tour. lucy had laughed when they first told her the name of the tour, but she eventually grew to like it and even embrace it. it's 6 pm and her soundcheck just ended. security lets fans in for a q&a with 5sos. she walks over to her boyfriend and smiles at him, wanting to kiss him good luck, or maybe just because she loves him. but luke stops her before she can even tilt her head up to reach his lips.

"we can't now. remember?"

it leaves her heart sore. she stands still as luke enters the stage and is greeted with the cheering of the fans. the rest of the guys are already seated on the small stairs of the set. she watches him ignore her and the questions about her. michael replies to one of them by saying she's our friend and we care for her and we're pretty inspired by her work as well, so it seemed like a good idea to, like, join forces and do this tour together.

lucy hopes luke will acknowledge her at some point, but he doesn't. when they start playing talk fast for the few lucky seventy fans in the audience, she twists her lips and leaves, heading backstage.

-

he doesn't see her until she's onstage again, playing her set of amazing songs for the 16,000 people attending the show. they dance and scream the lyrics back to her. she plays her guitar and sings with her raspy grunge-style voice over the indie-pop-rock arrangements her backing band provides. his heart beats faster as she approaches the microphone and starts talking.

"and thank you to my friends in 5sos who have been kind enough to invite me to co-headline this tour. the you don't go to parties tour seemed a little odd to me at first because this is definitely a party, isn't it?" she smiles as the crowd cheers. "so thank you guys," lucy turns to the left of the stage and sees luke standing next to her guitar tech. "i really fucking love you."

-

because of technical issues, the band can't perform the whole setlist. sometimes it happens. ashton is always pissed. "they're missing the whole experience!"

"yeah, well. nothing we can do. venue told us we could do the whole hour and a half but because of the issue with the speakers, they can't last that long. you have to cut two songs."

the tour manager tries to hold this thing together as ashton and michael complain. calum offers suggestions.

"i guess we could lose um... we could lose babylon, right? just this once and... flatline maybe?" the bassist looks over at luke.

flatline is the one song they had never played live before and it’d be a surprise for the audience. especially because lucy would come onstage to sing it with them. play the rhythmic guitar while luke walks around, hyping up the crowd. they'd rehearsed it several times and she was excited about it. they both were. allegedly.

"sure," luke replies as he drinks a glass of tequila, setting it down on a table and making sure his guitar is properly tuned. "let's cut them."

michael and ashton look at each other and then at luke. the frontman shrugs and his friends tell the tour manager that they will cut babylon and flatline.

-

all of the musicians have separate rooms in the hotels. even luke and lucy. she'd insisted it'd be easier. luke hated it. and he didn't expect her to show up at his room, unannounced, with a frown on her forehead and breathing hard.

"you cut our song," she steps inside the white room with the white walls, white bed and white comforter. looking at luke, the woman crosses her arms.

"we had to," he simply states. as if he wasn't the one greenlighting the whole thing.

"you could've told me, though. i was looking stupid next to the stage, waiting for you to introduce me. and it never happened."

"is that all that matters to you? how you look in front of other people? we had to cut two songs, lucy. the surprise's gonna be even bigger in the next show. fans will appreciate that."

lucy twists her lips and walks straight past him towards the door. "you're an asshole," she says before closing it behind her.

-

the beginning of the flight to boston is awkward. the whole twelve -the bands and the crew- can sense the tension inside the plane. it stems from luke and lucy, obviously. when did everything get so uneasy?

twenty minutes into the duration of the flight, though, luke slides into the seat next to his girlfriend. she doesn't look at him.

"i should've told you."

"yeah, you should've."

her heart beats faster as he places a hand on her cheek, guiding her eyes towards his own. he looks inside the brown hues and decides he can't keep hurting her. but she hurt him first. he wants to grow up and let it go. it's proving to be harder than he thought. maturity hasn't caught up to him easily yet. "i'm sorry." she closes her eyes and luke leans in to kiss her. "i'm sorry," he repeats.

a hand on his wrist, lucy is sad. looking into his eyes makes her sad. "it's okay," she finally says.

-

"and now we've got a pretty special surprise for you," michael grins into the microphone as the whole venue screams. "it's time to invite lucy huerta back on stage!" he shouts with a smile.

luke thinks lucy looks so fucking edible in those tight pants and that see-through top. her smile is big as she waves to the audience and settles on the center of the stage, where luke usually is. he gets another microphone from one of the roadies before ashton counts to four with his hi-hat.

should've seen me like a year ago, year ago/i was someone you don't even know, even know/dark times kept me all alone, all alone/you were shining like a heart of gold, heart of gold

he steals glances at her as she smiles into the crowd that’s going wild, her acoustic guitar hanging from her shoulders. 

luke was depressed after the divorce, staying home and drinking himself to sleep. then he got his shit together (half of it at least), went to the studio and worked through his issues by writing songs. when he met lucy, luke thought she was the most wonderful person on the planet. she had the kindest heart and was an overall joy to have around. he sings the pre-chorus and is taken aback by her strong voice as she takes over the song with her playing and her singing.

ooh, i'm falling for the first time/heart is gonna flatline/now i can't even look at you/you're like staring at the sunshine, burning into my mind/now i can't even look at you

and she doesn't. she doesn't look at him as she sings, unlike rehearsals when they couldn't stop singing to each other. it breaks his heart, considering it's their song. he wrote this for her.

"thank you!" lucy shouts and then leaves the stage waving everybody goodbye.

-

after the show, luke showed up to her hotel room. the bands were out clubbing and when he heard lucy wasn’t gonna join them, he immediately took an uber back to where they were staying. 

“let me in, please,” he says after knocking on her door three times. when she finally appears, she’s wearing a towel around her body and another one around her hair. she looks tired. “can i come in?”

without saying a word, lucy steps aside and luke walks into her room. she closes the door behind her and approaches him. 

“talk to me,” he basically begs. reading her mind is like an unsolvable sudoku, the man can’t get his head around it. “I love you.”

“i love you, too,” she whispers, looking down at his messy converse sneakers. 

luke quickly grabs her face and kisses her. it’s passionate and arousing and she can feel herself melting under his touch. she knows they should actually talk about it, instead of making out and falling on the bed, her towels discarded somewhere on the floor. she can’t help it. they’re both sex addicts. lucy rips his thin black shirt open and kisses down his chest, leaving his skin wet with the droplets that run down her hair. his breathing grows heavier and his pants grow tighter in the crotch area. he closes his eyes as she trails the kisses back up to his face. “take it off,” she pleads and sits next to him. luke quickly reincorporates himself to toss his shirt, his slacks and his underwear out of the way. he’s big and pulsating and lucy swallows hard, he turns her on so much. 

when the last item of clothing hits the floor, one of his shoes, the man licks his upper lip and straddles her body, hovering over her. “you really want me, huh?” his smirk is cocky, as if he’s forgotten everything about these past few days. it’s like nothing ever happened and they’re still in their love bubble. she so desperately wants to go back to it, so she nods and wraps her arms around his neck, bringing him to her lips as she parts her legs. luke hooks an elbow on her knee and spreads her wider, watching her folds throb for him. so slick and ready. he kisses her once more before carefully dropping her leg onto the bed. “condom,” he says. “i need to fuck you now.”

lucy reaches out to the bag she keeps on the nightstand. eyeliner, pills and condoms. she hands him one and it doesn’t take long before his cock is ready. luke smirks and kisses her, lining himself against her entrance with one hand, he takes a deep breath and penetrates her.

her gasp shouldn’t come as a surprise, given that it’s the same sound every time, not at all used to having him being so big and thick yet, even after all these months. she closes her eyes and bites her lower lip as luke runs a hand through his damp curls, letting her adjust to his size. he groans as he feels her walls engulfing him. “i want you so much,” he offers a low moan and starts picking up the pace of his thrusts. bringing one of her legs over his shoulder, the man reaches a deeper spot that makes her moan out. 

“fuck,” she pants as the bed bounces underneath their bodies. luke’s strength and determination to fuck her stupid works. her eyes roll to the back and she digs her short nails into his naked back. “more,” she begs and is immediately met with a hand around her throat. “more,” her plead is inaudible as she feels like she can’t breathe from the pleasure.

luke’s pupils are dilated in a way she’s never seen before. he tightens her grip around her throat and around her leg. gulping down at the sight of his girl falling apart under him, he tries to restrain louder moans but how can he? how can he fuck her quietly when she looks and feels so fucking good? “say you’re mine,” he orders. “say you’re mine.”

-

the morning sun shines through the window and rests its light on lucy’s face. She scrunches her nose and opens her eyes. she’s lying on luke’s chest, they’re both naked. he doesn’t seem to notice her shifting. the woman looks up at him, wondering when things got so complicated. she loves him. she truly loves him. he’s the first man she’s ever loved, in a real way, not a platonic crush way. the fact that he makes her laugh and his skills when making music and also in bed are extraordinary. he’s a sensitive soul and it’s such a wonder when he lowers down the walls he builds up around people. letting them in but not all the way. not in the way he does with her. or did. “why can’t you trust me with your thoughts anymore?” lucy wonders in a soft whisper before pressing a kiss to his sternum and getting up. she goes to the bathroom and takes a shower. when she opens the door that leads to the bedroom, luke is up and scrolling through his phone. “hi,” she smiles softly. her boyfriend’s hair is a mess and there’s still sleep inside his eyes. 

“hey,” the man smiles back, putting his phone away. “flight’s at 6. you wanna do something today?”

lucy leans against the frame of the bathroom door. she crosses her arms in front of her chest and thinks for a moment while twisting her lips. “what do you have in mind?”

-

they both go down in the elevator, not touching, and it’s killing them. when they reach the hotel’s diner, they find calum and ashton sitting at one of the tables, drinking orange juice and eating bagels.

“you guys had fun last night,” calum smirks as the couple sits down with a plate of waffles and two cups of coffee.

lucy blushes and luke has to stop every inch of his urgent body to wrap an arm around her shoulders. “shut up,” they both say in unison. there’s a soft smile on their faces.

after michael drops by to have a quick breakfast and then leaves to facetime his wife and his baby daughter, the rest of them decide that it would be cool to go out and explore the city. so they do that. they go to a park and sit around, smoking and drinking warm water because of the summer heat upon them. a couple of fans stumble across them and ask for pictures. they stay for around ten minutes before leaving off to continue their day, the musicians keep on enjoying the sun and the fresh air. if you ignore calum and lucy’s cigarettes, that is.

they go to lunch at a nearby restaurant and order pasta salads. lucy looks over at luke across the table, he’s laughing at one of ashton’s jokes and she sighs almost imperceptibly, looking down at her empty plate. there’s a single ravioli and two tomato slices on it. she looks up when she feels a foot against her ankle and sees luke smiling softly at her.

they can’t help but fuck in the restaurant’s bathroom. locked into a single stall, she drops to her knees and sucks him off. luke pins her against the door and buries his head on her neck to muffle the sounds when he slides into her. she’s got a leg wrapped around his waist and she swallows hard to hush the sounds she wants to make.

when they reach back the table, they find that ashton and calum have deserted them, leaving them with the bill. “assholes,” she says and luke laughs.

-

Seen out: Luke Hemmings and Lucía Huerta have an off day in Boston

The pair walked out of the Intercontinental Hotel with Ashton Irwin (5SOS’ drummer) and Calum Hood (5SOS’ bassist). They were seen by fans at Fenway Park and they took pictures with them. Luke looks tired in the photos, but he seems happy. He wears roughed-up sneakers and a white tank top. Lucy wears short denim shorts and a black top with flowy sleeves. The fans that tagged them in the Instagram posts spoke about how nice they were and how exciting it was to meet them. Hemmings and Huerta were both seen leaving Tenderoni’s Fenway restaurant and getting into an Uber. According to inside sources, the pair haven’t been able to keep their hands off each other during this tour so far. We hope it stays that way.

-

“fuck,” lucy’s frustration about the latest hollywood gossip blog post seems to go unnoticed on the plane. but luke can tell, and he wraps an arm around her the minute they both sit down. “they know. they seem to know,” she hands him her phone so he can read the writing piece. she hates it. she hates it so much. “inside sources can suck my dick.” this statement makes luke giggle. “what’s so funny?” she asks, annoyed.

“nothing.”

-

the next cities go by in a time whirlwind. lucy’s been distant since the article and it breaks luke’s heart. she refused to hold his hand and kiss him outside hotel rooms. even concerts’ backstages.

a few months after they met, they attended a house party in santa monica. the sparks between them were something everybody noticed, but they didn’t seem to think much of it. they’re rockstars, they’re the same age, of course they’re gonna flirt. luke fucked her in the spare bedroom, door locked. she gasped when she felt his cock for the first time, knowing he’d just made her addicted to it. he’d ruined every other man for her.

“we should head back downstairs.”

“i wanna stay here with you.”

“luke.” his name was rough against her lips as she hooked her bra back on.

“alright, i’m up.”

looking back, that should’ve been a red flag for him, but he chose to ignore it. because she made him feel good and he didn’t want her to leave him for somebody else. he didn’t want to be left again. he’d loved his ex-wife, and it was hard to get over her after she cheated on him. lucy had never been in a relationship, just random hookups, a friend with benefits and two weeks of winter love. she feared intimacy and luke could tell after the second time they had sex. spend the night, he’d said. lucy shook her head and told him she needed to get up early in the morning for an interview, which was a lie.

-

by the time the first month rolls around, they’re barely talking. It’s all sex and pretending onstage. pretending to have fun, pretending that they’re not hurt. their hearts break in silence. well, sort of.

“i told you not to fuck it up.”

“she won’t let me in. she won’t talk to me about it.”

“fix it.”

-

someone just like you, no one else/lights will guide you so, run like hell

the screaming fans can’t get enough of the energy onstage. michael jumping around, calum throwing his head back to expose his neck to the crowd, ashton beasting out on the drums. luke crouches in front of the crowd with a wide smile and lucy plays guitar while she sings her heart out. the lights radiate orange and red colors on the stage, the bass resonates in their bodies and there’s so much adrenaline going on that she has a moment of weakness. she looks over at luke, who has walked over to michael’s side of the stage as he sings the second verse. he wears a silver shirt that makes his shoulders look so spectacularly broad. she looks at him a little too long and when the camera pans over to her, showing her true feelings on the giant screen, fans seem to lose it even more. luke walks back to her and sings directly into her eyes, as if he can feel his way back to his girl. finally. a sad smile appears on her face for a split second before she starts dancing while playing the post-chorus instrumental outro. her long wavy hair hides her face and no one notices a single tear rolling down her cheek. when the song ends, she pretends to be emotional about the crowd, about how much they seem to love the show. which she is very grateful for. but on the other side of the coin, she just fucked up everything for herself. her career. and it’s clear when luke approaches her with a reassuring smile and one fan screams KISS! KISS! and then the whole venue is yelling the same word over and over again. michael and calum look at each other, ashton wipes off the sweat from his forehead and when the chanting doesn’t seem to stop, he grabs his mic. 

“alright, alright. calm your asses down,” the drummer laughs and the crowd follows suit. a distraction. he starts talking about how they recorded the song and thanking lucy for putting on a fantastic show with them for the beautiful souls in the audience.

lucy twists her lips, trying not to break down in front of thousands of people. so, she just waves and quickly exits the stage. luke takes a deep breath. he wants to run after her, make sure she’s okay. but she would never forgive him for giving the fans more reasons to speculate about their relationship. 

-

lucy cries backstage, alone. she takes off her makeup and sees dark circles underneath her eyes. why the fuck is she such a mess? why can’t she be in love like a normal person?

-

the show ends and the first person to knock on her dressing room is, obviously, luke. “are you okay?” he opens the door and sees his girlfriend lying on the sofa, sleeping. her makeup’s off and he can better appreciate the freckles on her nose that she gets in the summer. he stays with her, sitting on the chair in front of the mirror. the man looks at her as she wrinkles her nose in her sleep. he loves her so much. but what if this it? what if this is the end for them? 

michael opens the door, “what’s going on? is she okay?”

“she’s okay,” luke smiles weakly. “she’s sleeping.” 

lucy holds a pillow to her chest. she’s covered by luke’s jacket. michael decides he should probably leave them alone. “good luck, man,” he says as he pats luke’s shoulder, then he leaves the door closed after stepping back out.

luke could really use a joint right now. all these thoughts and feelings. wondering what she may be dreaming. or what she does with her days when they’re not together. he hates being so possessive, it makes him feel like a child. but how can you blame him?

“good luck with what?” lucy’s yawn startles him. she rubs one eye open.

michael meant well, but he also wanted to protect luke from heartbreak. lucy’s given him that for months now. all the guys -at least in the bands- knew lucy has a bit of… issues. she believes in things to be too black or white, good or bad, yes or no. no space for grey areas in her life. and that’s frustrating to deal with, but luke had fallen in love because she was so intense and so hardheaded when it came to defending her values. He admired that about her. “I honestly have no idea,” he lies behind a chuckle, playing it off as usual band nonsense. “do you wanna go back to the hotel and sleep?”

she’s too tired to get into an argument about taking separate cars, so she just nods. “Yeah.”

-

when they get to the hotel room, luke tucks her in and pours her a glass of water that he leaves on her nightstand. he looks for ibuprofen in her small bag with pills and condoms and sets two next to the water. 

“i’m sorry for being such a bitch to you,” lucy says with her eyes closed, lying on her side. 

she looks so out of it. as if she’d just drank an entire bottle of vodka and then smoked weed. he feels bad. he never meant for her to feel like this when they got into a relationship. but touring always makes things hard. especially if you’re playing shows every night with the person you love. the man sighs and sits next to her. “don’t worry about me. get some sleep,” he whispers and kisses her temple.

before he can stand up, lucy grabs his arm. “can you stay with me? please.”

a soft smile sets on his lips. “of course.”

-

after landing in the next city, lucy calls her mom.

-

there are three knocks on his hotel room door. “luke?” her voice is soft. as if she’s embarrassed. she doesn’t want her mother’s words to haunt her. the man opens the door without his shirt. just sweatpants. he was probably gonna go to bed. she might as well ruin his night too. 

“hey.” there’s a small pause. “what’s up?” he steps aside so she can come in. the tv’s on in the background and there’s a tray with an empty plate and a glass of tequila, just resting on his nightstand. 

lucy nods her head and walks inside. “i wanna talk.”

“okay…”

“about us.”

-

Love Is All Around: It’s Insta-Official

Two months ago, the You Don’t Go To Parties Tour hit the stage. And last night, Lucía Huerta and Luke Hemmings provided some much-needed proof of their romance. “Ten months with you feel like a second. Magic. I love you.”

-

lucy sighs as she reads the article.

“are you okay?” luke asks her.

“yeah,” she replies. “just… scared, i guess.”

“it’s gonna be okay, love,” he kisses the top of her head and sits next to her on the sofa. “everything’s gonna be alright.” the dressing room is big and no one else is around. it’s noon.

tons of notifications have been hitting their phones for the past fourteen hours. some are mean comments, others are encouraging words from fans. either way, it makes lucy anxious. “do you wanna get high?” she asks her boyfriend. maybe weed isn’t the solution to every problem ever, but it helps. 

the man smiles. “sure,” he says.

they go to the private parking lot of the venue. luke rolls a joint while lucy smokes a cigarette. she flicks the ashes onto the concrete, fidgeting her fingers around the cancer stick. luke isn’t the biggest fan of her smoking. and she's been smoking more as the days go by. but he understands she’s going through a lot, so he says nothing. he gets a text from calum, wondering where he and his girlfriend are. we’re gonna have lunch, join us? but the blond dismisses the message and lights the joint. he takes two hits before handing it to lucy. she brings it immediately to her lips, the slightly spicy smoke going down her throat smoothly. 

it’s so easy to talk to each other. sometimes. but their words have been stunted lately. they don’t know what the other’s thinking. and yes, last night they had a good conversation. but now what? does everything go back to normal now? how? they both feel anxious around each other, and that’s never ever happened before. they both hate it.

“what do you…”

“do you ever…”

they open their mouths simultaneously, quickly chuckling at the awkwardness of their interaction. lucy nods her head, letting him know that he can finish his thought.

luke smiles. “i was gonna ask you if you ever feel like… like things are going so good between us and suddenly we get so quiet and you worry? is that… is that something you feel?”

lucy smiles back. “yeah,” she says. “i don’t really know how to explain it. i mean, i love you. you know i really fucking love you, luke. but sometimes i worry we get too inside our heads. because i think we’re really similar like that. and i… i wanna be someone you can count on…”

“i want that too,” he replies. she hands him back the joint and he smokes some more.

“and sometimes i worry i’m not that someone you deserve,” she finally confesses.

it makes him sad to hear her say that, because there’s no better person for him than her. no one has made him feel this way before. the ups and downs seem to be heightened and it’s a beautiful way to live, he doesn’t want anyone else. there’s only room in his heart for this woman. this is the hardest he’s ever fallen in love, and he can’t imagine his life without her. a bit dramatic, but hey, that’s just who he is. “i don’t deserve anyone, lucy. i just want to be with you,” he says and takes her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. “all the time. every single fucking day.”

the woman looks down at their hands. matching red nail polish and silver-colored rings. this is scary. it’s scary to love and need someone so much that you feel like you’d die if they ever left you. please, don’t leave me. ever. lucy sighs and squeezes his hand in hers. “right back at ya,” she smiles softly and looks up to find his baby blues staring at her with so much love in them that she can’t help the weakness she feels in her knees.

the silence is barely uncomfortable anymore. unlike the ones they’ve been experiencing for countless weeks now. it’s all out in the open. their love for each other burning brighter than ever. neither want this moment to end. and since there’s only one way to stop time, they lean into each other and kiss. it’s soft at first, like a goodnight kiss. and it escalates quickly to an i-never-wanna-be-without-you one. she grabs fistfuls of his shirt, bringing him closer to her body. luke places both hands on her face as his tongue traces her bottom lip. their eyes are red and their hunger is raw.

-

they can’t get to his hotel room fast enough. fuck having lunch with friends, they need to satiate this urge so they can go on for the rest of the day. “i want you so bad,” she whines against his throat, leaving wet and sloppy kisses along his jawline. he’s already big and leaking with precum, grinding his hips against hers. unhooking her bra, luke immediately buries his head between her breasts and she whines again. those beautiful sounds he can’t get enough of.

“ride me, babe. i wanna see these titties bounce,” he whispers against her skin. hands gripping her hips. bulge so hard he feels like he’s gonna explode. they’re naked and he already has a condom wrapping his shaft. lucy bites her lower lip and lines him against her slit. he’s throbbing in her hand and that drives her insane. the moan he drags out as she strokes him is paradise. The filthiest love they’ve ever experienced. Both always wanting to fuck each other. It’s her waist, it’s his broad shoulders. The way they move on stage, wanting to look sexy for the other. 

lucy sinks into his cock and lets out a whine, “fuuck.” his thick size feels so good. luke grabs her ass and spreads her cheeks open so he can penetrate her better. 

“you like that?”

“yes.” her mouth hangs open and her eyes roll to the back of her head. luke has always thought of her as his pretty little pornstar. even before they started dating, the way she danced with him at the club. her back pressed to his body as his hands rested on her hips and stomach. both sweaty and a bit embarrassed when they went back to the booth with their friends. 

the woman, as per requested, starts bouncing on his cock. titties moving up and down. “fuck, girl.”

-

“is it better to feel this or feel nothing at all?”

ever since the news got out about their relationship, lucy’s been a mess. interviewers can be assholes. they suddenly stopped asking about her music, her achievements. all they wanted to know about was her clothes and her boyfriend. like everything she worked for just disappeared in the blink of an eye.

she lays on her side on the hotel bed after playing a festival in latin america. luke spoons her, holding her close to his body. he doesn’t know what to say. he’s surprised by the outcome. hadn’t expected people to diminish her work, to ignore she just played the 6 pm slot, which is a hard spot to get. you need a lot of people to stay for the whole set. and she’d killed it. 

“i don’t understand what happened,” luke sighs against her neck and squeezes her tighter. “i’m really sorry.”

lucy closes her eyes, feeling a bit less anxious with him. “it’s okay. the industry’s fucked up.”

“yeah,” he chuckles weakly. “it is.”

-

“so it’s true? you and luke are engaged?”

the questions about her relationship don’t seem to cease. even a year later. they go together to events and people seem to be more excited about them together than their work. it’s annoying, but what are you gonna do? “yeah, we are,” lucy smiles. “we’re also dropping a new song together next month.”

“ooh, tell us about it.”

lucy has become good at deflecting. luke taught her that. 

-

“how was the interview?” luke asks after he greets his fianceé with a kiss and hands her a cup of coffee from her favorite shop.

“it was alright,” lucy shrugs. it’s definitely been a learning experience, dodging questions about her personal life. but luke has been so supportive and sweet throughout the whole thing. she’s grateful to marry her man in six months. “how was the recording session?” she asks as she sips the hot beverage.

the blond had written things throughout the tour. enough things to make an ep. “it was good,” he smiles softly.

-

the song luke and lucy release is a hit. a 90s-inspired track with her raspy vocals and his whiny ones make for an interesting texture that captures hearts everywhere. they play it on several shows, the crowds go insane every time.

a month later, lucy releases her second album. it's a hit. she's invited to play festivals and there are rumors of a grammy nomination.

"here's to my girl," luke smiles as he raises a glass of wine in front of her and their friends. "she showed the world she's a powerhouse, an amazing songwriter and performer. she's the best thing that's ever happened to me and i'm so proud of you." his gaze sets on lucy, who's blushing like crazy and smiling like an idiot. "i really fucking love you."

"right back at ya," the woman grins and stands up from the table to kiss her man. everyone cheers.

the night goes by fast. the celebration turns into a party in luke and lucy's new place in west hollywood. but the couple soon disappears into their shared bedroom. fucking until the sun comes up and their friends leave.

luke pants as his orgasm washes over him. "fuck," he breathes out, collapsing next to her on their bed.

"yeah," lucy chuckles. her body is sweaty and she wraps an arm around his torso as she snuggles up to him. looking up at his face, the man's glistening. he's the most beautiful man. he's got the biggest heart and he's never been jealous or threatened by her successes. she appreciates that. "wanna eat me out?" lucy smirks, her leg now over his, her wet pussy making contact with his thigh and she grinds into him.

"give me a second," luke lets out a soft laugh. "you really wore me out. my pretty slutty angel." he strokes her hair, hand soon trailing down to her ass. a small slap to it that makes her bite down on her lip. "okay, come on. legs spread, i'm diving in," he grins.

she does what she's told. opening her legs so luke can attach his lips to her swollen clit and start licking her folds. so sloppy. so fucking nasty. lucy groans as her breath hitches. "you're so good."

he smirks against her entrance before exploring her walls with his tongue. so fucking skilled.

-

grammy nominations announcement. luke and lucy's song gets one for song of the year. her album gets one for album of the year. they're ecstatic. it's all happening.

#5sosficfest2024 #luke hemmings #luke hemming fic #luke hemming smut #i absolutely loved writing this and feeling *pain* #lmfaoo

[faejilly]

so I wanted to riff off of @alexanderlightweight's response to the Alec/Bow/Quiver/summoning meta post by @ralfstrashcan that I reblogged recently, but also I didn't want it to get lost in an increasingly long reblog chain, so I'm gonna quote and start over here:

100%

my headcanon is that it's alec's shadowhunter ability like clary's rune ability and apparently the herondale ghost talking ability(??)

if we really want to take it a step further. we can even talk about how izzy has specially made weapons that have to be super tricky to use which means weapons ability

but that's just my brain. which made that one scene where alec goes back to the institute make no sense, to retrieve his bow because literally every other time he doesn't need to (they just wanted to give clace the training moment and set up the whole hodge thing)

1: I also think Alec's 'have to go get a bow' is just an excuse, but he's using it to a) get away from Jace behaving incomprehensibly & Clary being So Very Clary, AND b) to cover their tracks now that he's realized just HOW comprehensively his siblings are going to go off the rails in the next day or so. (And on a narrative level I really like the scene with Hodge so I'm glad it exists. 😅)

2: I headcanon that part of the reason Alec (& to a lesser extent but still noticeably so, Izzy) can get away with pushing so many Clave/Nephilim boundaries without actually getting deruned despite their parents being on Thin Fucking Ice™️ with well, everyone, is that they have inherited both Family Traits and that's valuable enough (especially after all the losses during and after the Uprising) that the Clave really really doesn't want to get rid of them.

(Similarly, there's some hope that Jace and/or his expected children might show signs of the Wayland traits coming to life again as they've died out otherwise. Obviously that goes a bit sideways once they finally pick up on How Very Herondale he is, but luckily he's Herondale so that's still a benefit.)

Truebloods: very literally truth-tellers. Variations on their skills include the ability to recognize lies, off the charts charisma when they are invoking what they believe to be the truth, and an ability to make the most awkward truths palatable to audiences that normally wouldn't want to engage with them. They were traditionally the guardians of the Soul Sword whenever it left the City of Bones, but that honor faded away over the years as the Council with the Consul/Inquisitor as heads centralized power in their own hands.

Izzy can be seen doing this during her trial, because even when her personal behavior has included digs & microaggressions against Downworlders, she believes that they as a people can and should do better and her speech clearly works in-universe because of that resonance of truth.

(She even occasionally manages the sincere/heart-felt clunky dialogue that works despite being clunky that Alec's so good at, and poor Jace doesn't, despite his best attempts, because for all he's a Lightwood in every other way that matters, he's not actually part Trueblood.)

Maryse has several hints of Alec's same blunt (inexplicably successful) sincerity once she lets herself stop hiding behind Politics & Expectations. When she's upset with Izzy about spending time with the Seelie in s1, she has a line that always felt very self-recriminating to me; (I'm paraphrasing here since I'm too lazy to pull up the script or episode): 'never trust a people who can't lie, they'll find more imaginative ways to stab you in the back'. She knows this about the Seelie because it's what she's always done.

(Alec's shock at his parents being in the Circle can't be because it's against their politics as they've never really tried to behave better. Perhaps it's because it never occurred to him that they could lie that well. Especially his mother, since he has a much better relationship with her than Robert.)

This means that Maryse buying into Valentine's rhetoric was invaluable to him, because she could back him up and help make sure people would fall for it, because she was a Trueblood. Equally, when she turns, that is part of why the Clave lets them back in. Her vow to now toe the party line is completely believable, because she promised on her children... who are also Truebloods.

This also means that their bloodline is one that would not always be popular since they can call out power when it's behaving badly; thus the apparent decline of Trueblood standing in the way that the show refuses to ever really acknowledge it in the present day timeline, and instead talks about Lightwood honor.

(But countered in the way The Clave doesn't move directly against Alec Lightwood, HotI, despite gay and living with a Downworlder, despite how much clear disdain he has for so many of them and their policies. They aren't willing to risk what a Trueblood could do if pushed into active rebellion.)

Lightwoods have a much more palatable martial gift. Their affinity for the adamas in their weapons means they can bond with them, sometimes strongly enough to summon them, manipulate them in the field, adapt them and rune them and enhance them in ways most Shadowhunters can't. (We never see anyone doing anything resembling Alec runing his arrows in s1 after all. What if most of them can't?)

As shown by Izzy in s3 as Weapon's Master, in Alec's ability to beat his parabatai (the supposed best fighter of a generation) when they're sparring with weapons even if he loses once they get to hand-to-hand, Izzy's unique skill with a whip, Alec fighting with everything he gets his hands on, from seraph blades to his signature bow to actual arrows for stabbing. (As seen in everything in ralf's original meta post and delightful fic.)

There's even something in the fact that Izzy was interested in joining the Iron Sisters (which while prestigious also involves even more sacrifice from a people who have to sacrifice a lot already and are thus vital enough that they let Cleophas join despite her past because they needed her) and yet Izzy stayed active duty -- and presumably eventually marriageable.

(I frequently wonder if part of why she chose to make herself as unpalatable as possible for a traditional/political match was a lingering bit of awareness that that was what The Clave most wanted from her, regardless of who she wanted to be.)

ALSO! There has to be a reason that Robert Lightwood was valuable enough to keep even when they got rid of Maryse, a reason the show reiterates Lightwood honor over and over again, a reason he & Maryse got to be co-Heads of an Institute (even if the general fanon that they were more constrained than most Proper Heads does fit what little we see), and we never actually see Robert fighting or sparring, but we are repeatedly told that his children are the best of the best.

But it's seldom mentioned as a compliment, is it? More like an expectation. They're Lightwoods, they have to be the best with their weapons, or what is the point of them? It's just another weight added to Alec's so-called crown, another expectation Izzy has to both flaunt and fight against every day so she can have at least a little bit of herself left to hold onto.

(The one thing Jace is good at, the one bit of the monster his father built that helps; he's as good with a blade as a Lightwood. It's the only thing that gives him hope for redemption, the only thing that gives him enough conviction to ask Alec to be his parabatai and protect his soul from himself.)

#my sh rambling #jilly metas #shadowhunters #alec lightwood #isabelle lightwood #maryse trueblood #robert lightwood #jace lightwood #almost #and now I'm sad #in a lighter note: #everyone thinks Max Lightwood has no Trueblood traits #because everyone can always tell when he's lying #but actually he DOES #he just always knew he was lying #and thought it was hilarious #so it's not 'til he's older #that he really invokes the Trueblood Thing™️ #and he totally shocks everyone and Alec & Izzy & Maryse are So Proud #and Jace agrees that the previous terrible lying was in fact hilarious and a great idea #fandom friday #totally gonna be a thing maybe? #we'll see if I manage to figure out a post for it later

[ghosttownwherenoonegoes]

EDDIE MUNSON MUSIC LOVE LANGUAGE ESSAY PLEASE AND THANK YOU!!! 💚💚💚

I MADE THIS POST A MONTH AGO AND FORGOT TO ACTUALLY WRITE THE ESSAY 😂😂😂😂😂

Thank you for reminding me and for your enthusiasm! Made me giggle & makes me feel better about having so many thoughts about Eddie that I forget to finish them when they get posted as half-drafted rambles!💕💕💕

Okay, so AS I WAS SAYING,

I think Eddie has several love languages. Off the top of my head, these are: touch (poor sweet boy is so touch starved), food (if he lets you take a pretzel from his lunch, you are special), acts of service, quality time, aaaand his biggest one, music.

It starts off subtly.

If he catches you humming or tapping out a beat with your fingers, he'll pick up on the rhythm quite quickly and join in with you, giving you a smile as he does so, or his fingers will be the accompaniment to your beat so you create more noise together.

It's his way of saying, I hear you and I want to share this with you.

If there's a song stuck in your head and you keep singing that one line but you can't remember anything else about it and you can't even hum it because somehow that's eluding you too, Eddie will write it down, trawl through records in his bedroom, and somehow, he finds it. Don't ask him how many hours he spent skipping through songs and thumbing through lyric booklets, because he'll lie to you. The light rose blush dusting across his cheeks, tips of his ears and his neck tells you everything you need to know, though.

It's his way of saying, this matters to you so therefore it matters to me.

So it becomes that Eddie is the person you go to when there's a song stuck in your head, and he thrives off it. Music is one of his biggest passions, and he's bouncing all over the place from being able to share it with you.

Next, he begins to play your favourite songs when he drives you around or when you go for a late night drive together. Even and especially if you have different music tastes, he'll still play your favourites. That excited over-dramatic gasp you have, that smile which threatens to take over your face, the way you squeal and bounce in your seat, the way you come alive under the first few chords of your favourite songs makes Eddie's heart thrum in his chest and he thinks, this is why I'm alive. Music says everything we can't, and he listens for you in your favourite songs; bonds with you, gets to know you. Finds you in those guitar riffs which make your heart bleed.

It's his way of showing that he thinks about you, that he knows what you like, that you matter to him.

He'll learn your favourite songs on guitar, learn the lyrics so he can hum them in your ear when the grocery store gets too loud and he finds you huddling into yourself, your hands beginning to tremble from anxiety or overstimulation. He'll make sure to keep a mixtape of all your favourite songs in his van, next to some bags of your favourite snacks as an "emergency Y/N" stash for when you need a serious pick me up. You tell him that he's all you need, but Eddie emphatically shakes his head, tells you that he wants all of your favourite things next to his favourite things too. So he can listen to them when he misses you but also so you can listen to them when you want to.

You know what he's trying to say.

Dates at the record store, long nights spent curled up on his bed listening to a mixtape he made of your favourite songs and his favourite songs (the symphony of Eddie & Y/N is what he titles it, with a very crooked black heart drawn so enthusiastically that the ink bleeds into the edges of the label), shoulders, knees and ankles pressed together, even later hours spent in his van, spending time together sprawled out in the back. Remembering what you're working so hard for, with whatever you have going on in your life.

Once, you had told Eddie that all you had had in your life to make you feel was music.

And now?

Now, that's still true, but you also have Eddie.

Now it's his turn to understand what you're trying to say and the way he kisses you tells you that he feels much the same.

In conclusion... music is one of Eddie's main love languages.

eddie baby @eddiebunson @hersweetrevenge @sweetpeapod @sabbathsworld @hawkinsroyaloutcast @seidenbros @bakerstreethound @eddiemunsonshoney @potatos-library @gemstone-roses @hellfire1986baby @jslittlebirdie @comfortcharactercraze @heydreamchild @mywinterivy @corrodedcoffeen @m00nlight101

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #stranger things 4 x reader