#and the fact that the lyrics from beginning to end are just as beautiful as the music and the glorious vocals is just 😭💖🙌

[riversonfire]

ᴛᴏᴘ 10 sᴏɴɢs ᴏғ 2022 ⤷01. "Gold Dust" —NCT 127

Good night, my moonlight Come and embrace me deeply Lying on the ripples of the embroidered night sky Perhaps you don't know how pretty your light is

#nct 127 #gold dust #gifs by riversonfire #top 10 of 2022! #with respect to the other wonderful songs on this list as well as those that didn't make my top 10 #this was my number one the second I heard it #you ever have a song that brings tears to your eyes whenever you hear it? #yeah this is it for me #and the fact that the lyrics from beginning to end are just as beautiful as the music and the glorious vocals is just 😭💖🙌 #this song will live in my heart for all of eternity

[freedomfireflies]

Better Not Pout*

Summary: The one where Harry isn't leaving until he gets what he really came for.

You.

Word Count: 10.6k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, violence, guns, gunplay, exhibitionism (This one-shot is a bit darker, so please only read if you feel comfortable! 💞)

December 24th, 1945.

The streets of Chicago are cold. Windy. Dark. Everyone is either at home, visiting loved ones, or spending their Christmas Eve at the one place they know they’ll be welcome.

The Bees Knees – the renowned, underground speakeasy – is rather sparkling tonight. The customers continue to bustle in, some here for the booze, some here for the atmosphere and warmth, and some for the entertainment.

You.

You’re one of the establishments best performers, three nights of the week. Employed by none other than Johnny Winters himself to sing for the lost souls of Chicago as they drown their worries in a bottle of whiskey.

You quite like your job, and the people you work with. Milton, who tends the bar, always has a compliment to lend, offering you engaging small talk between sets or any new mixes he might make.

And Johnny isn’t so bad. But perhaps you’re a bit biased, seeing as he is your fiancé. But more than that, he’s one of the most powerful men in all of town. And considerably wealthy, which you suppose doesn’t exactly hurt.

But he’s also kind. Giving. And so very attentive. He spends every second he’s not working with you. Doting on you, showing you off to all of his friends. And having such a handsome man on your arm is certainly not the worst thing.

Tonight, however, Johnny is nowhere to be found. Which you don’t consider to be too terribly odd, given how much work he mentioned he’d be catching up on. 

Even still, he hates to miss your performances, and insisted that you keep a part of him with you as you take center stage tonight in the small bar.

That part happens to be in the form of a stunning red, silk dress that was gifted to you for this very occasion. It sits on your frame like it was always meant to be yours, hugging every desirable curve, and showcasing just enough skin to taunt the imagination of those in the audience.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt so beautiful, and you walk up the steps tonight with pride. Shoulders back and painted lips poised with your first song.

The few gentlemen scattered across the main floor holler when the spotlight finds you, and you offer your signature smile.

“Evening, gentleman,” you call as the pianist begins behind you. “How are you all doing tonight?”

A few whistles are offered that make you laugh, and just like that…the show begins.

Santa Claus Came in the Spring is always a favorite, and you croon the festive lyrics while the live band follows your lead.

And even though the crowd is rather dull and distracted, you have a blast. You feel comfortable in this role and in the way their eyes drink you in. Even if their attention drifts between you, their drinks, and the cigars.

In fact, you get so swept up in your act that you hardly notice the door open or the tall, lanky stranger that slinks in from the cold.

But when his head lifts, and his eyes find yours, you feel a hitch in your throat.

Unfortunately, he looks away all too quickly, pulling off his trench coat before moving along the shadows toward the far end of the bar.

He goes unnoticed by those around him, yet your attention follows him all the way to the booth that he settles in. And it stays even after he’s leaned back, gotten comfortable, and pulled a cigarette from his rather expensive looking suit pocket.

But even though your focus has drifted, you don’t miss a single beat of the song. After all, you could sing it in your sleep, and this habit serves you well as the intriguing stranger finally shifts into the light and allows you a better look at his face.

He’s…stunning. Absolutely beautiful, with his slicked back curls, sharp jaw, and pointed nose. And he’s lighting the end of a cigarette with what you can only call practiced precision before perching it between his two, crimson-colored lips. 

Rings adorn his fingers as he holds the nicotine to his mouth, inhaling a long drag before exhaling the dark smoke from his lungs.

Yet unlike the other patrons in the bar, this man seems to be rather put together. He’s not missing any teeth, his skin isn’t stained with dirt or grease, and his clothes appear to be rather new. It’s quite the upgrade from the usual appearance you’ve grown used to, and you can’t help but feel rather relaxed.

And it’s now that you realize that this striking stranger seems to be watching you much like you’re watching him. Studying your dress, your silhouette, the way you grip the microphone stand. He takes in each detail presented before him with what looks to be wonder, and your cheeks instantly grow warm.

Still, you carry on with the ballad, making your way through the final chorus and the last few notes as the band plays you out with a flourish.

The few men in front of the stage clap, and you smile gratefully as you nod your thanks and call out your appreciation.

Jingle Bells is next, and a few more people join in on the fun this time around. They clink their glasses together or belt out the lyrics a few seconds too late and wildly off-key.

Even still, it’s rather fun as you continue on with your set before finally wrapping it up with a high note that’s accompanied by a rather lively trumpet solo.

And once it’s all over, the room bursts into applause. You wave to the growing audience, taking a quick bow before gesturing toward the band. Offering them their due praise which the crowed quickly obliges.

But you notice the man in the booth keeps his expression indifferent as he continues to watch you exit the stage and make your way to the bar. He doesn’t applaud your performance or even offer a smile of encouragement. He merely takes another hit of his cigarette and throws his arm over the back of his seat. A position you imagine is intended to display dominance more than it is to find comfort.

Truth be told, you find it rather unnerving. He doesn’t seem to be here for the alcohol or the company. Perhaps he’s only here to get out of the cold or perhaps he’s avoiding his home.

Either way, his focus stays only with you, and you feel a sharp chill run down your spine as you turn to the counter and flag down Milton’s attention.

You ask for a drink and request that he tell Johnny that you’ll be waiting in his office until he arrives. 

He quickly agrees, preparing the beverage for you before jutting his chin toward the silent stranger.

“Want me to have him escorted out?” he asks, but you only smile as you shake your head.

“No need, I’m sure he’s harmless.” You take the crystal glass and tip it toward him in thanks. “Besides, the attention is rather nice.”

Milton nods his understanding and you leave it at that, taking your drink toward the hallway just off the corner of the room.

You sip leisurely as you stroll to Johnny’s office, picking up the edge of your long gown so it doesn’t drag on the floor. The sounds of the crowd grow quieter and quieter with each step you take, and soon, it’s nothing but silence.

After retrieving the key Johnny insisted you keep on you at all times, you slip open the door, and make your way inside.

It’s quite dark, given the time of night and lack of lighting. He’s only got three lamps in the room, one by the window, one on the shelf, and one on his desk.

Right beside a photo of you.

Getting your photograph taken is quite the privilege, but Johnny insisted he have a vision of you in his office at all times. And you couldn’t help but indulge him, allowing him to dress you up and place you in front of the large contraption one Sunday afternoon in spring.

It’s his favorite thing in the entire world, and he mentions it constantly. Commenting on your beauty or your ethereal outfit. You know he’s only trying to embarrass you, but it’s still rather flattering to hear.

You grin to yourself as you take a seat in the large chair behind the wooden table. Downing the rest of the contents in your glass before setting it down and taking a glance around the large space.

Vaguely, you hear footsteps approaching just outside the door. Echoing through the hall as your grin grows a bit wider. 

And as the knob turns, you expect to see the handsome face of your Johnny.

What you don’t expect, however, is the green-eyed devil and his quiet charm.

He’s followed you. You assume this immediately, and your heart leaps into your throat as he steps inside…and shuts the door behind him.

A tense silence settles between you as you slowly sit up and force in a quiet breath. “Hello,” you call quietly.

The sound of your unsteady voice seems to amuse him, the corner of his mouth curling up as the burning cigarette sits tucked between his lips. “Hello, mama.”

You feel your lashes flutter. “Can…can I help you?”

“I’m looking for your fiancé,” he says, and his voice is low. Deep. And you believe you catch just a hint of an English accent. “This is in fact his office, is it not?”

You hesitate, unsure whether or not to disclose such information to a stranger. “It…yes. Yes, but he’s not here right now. Perhaps you could come back later?”

“Later,” he repeats, almost thoughtfully as his head tilts. Then, he tsks. “See, I’m afraid later just doesn’t work for me. I need to speak with him right now. It’s quite urgent, and I’d like to finish this up and be home to my lover by midnight.”

“Oh…” You shift a bit in your seat and hope he doesn’t notice how nervous you’ve become. “Well, I would love to help, but I don’t believe I know when he’ll be in.”

He considers this for a moment before striding further into the room. Eyes tracking every tremble of your fingers and heave of your chest. “Can I tell you a secret, mama?” he murmurs, placing both hands on the desk and leaning closer.

You nod.

“Your boy Johnny owes me money,” he whispers. “And I’m here to collect.”

And now you understand. Now you know why he’s here. Because even though his tone is friendly, it can’t disguise the threat you know lingers underneath. 

“Oh,” you whisper back, and he hums.

“Exactly. And I’m a pretty reasonable guy. Decent. So, I’ll make you a deal.” He begins to smirk behind the cigarette. “If he’s not here within the next five minutes…you and I will find another way.”

The truth is, you don’t really know too much about the financial side of Johnny’s affairs and business. You know he has plenty of money, but you don’t know what he does with it. Or where he keeps it.

And if this alluring stranger seems to think you’ll be his key…you’re afraid he’ll be mistaken.

“Problem, Doll?” He seems smug, and it makes your skin crawl. “M’not scaring you, am I?”

The answer is obvious to you both, but you force yourself straighter and attempt to appear calm. “Not at all, sir. I only want to help.”

"Mm? Good girl,” he mumbles, eyes flicking down to your painted red lips. “Knew you’d behave for me.”

Your heart is hammering inside of your chest. You’re unsure what to do now. Do you ask him to leave? Do you scream for help? Do you call the police?

And where the hell is Johnny?

He should be here by now, especially after promising to wrap up his meeting early in order to catch your last performance before Christmas. He’s always here. One of your biggest fans and greatest protectors. 

The only thing you can truly think to do now is attempt to call him. You figure the police won’t get here in time, but at least if this gentleman can be assured that Johnny is on his way, he won’t be as inclined to act rashly.

However, the moment your fingers lift from the desk in order to reach for the phone, the stranger reaches for something, too.

In a matter of seconds, he’s wrapping his hand around the barrel of a gun, pulling it from his back pocket, and aiming it straight at your head. Cocking it loudly as you gasp and withdraw your arm as quickly as possible.

“What are you doin’, hm, mama?” There’s a haughty condescension in his sneer, laced with just the faintest disappointment. “Thought you were gonna be good.”

“I…I was just going to call him,” you stammer. “I know you’re in a hurry.”

The stranger studies you now, that familiar smirk beginning to fade as his attention flicks across your face. Perhaps he suspects a lie or perhaps he merely doesn’t trust you, but truth be told, you know better than to try and pull a fast one on him. 

Finally, he plucks his cigarette from between his lips before tossing it to the floor and nodding at you. “Yeah? Go on, then,” he instructs, reposition the barrel at your chest. “Call your little pretty boy. Tell him he’s got a visitor.”

With a racing pulse, you once again slowly reach for the telephone, eyeing the gun carefully as you scoot closer.

You’re careful not to make any sudden moments. Hesitant to even look at him for fear of upsetting him, but your timid demeanor only entertains him further.

He simply chuckles as he slowly makes his way over to your side of the desk. Snatching up the phone just before you can reach for it and handing it to you almost cockily.

Curious, you glance up. That soft green in his eye is almost alluring, even despite the circumstance. Still, he reeks of nicotine and expensive cologne, and you lean back in an attempt to put as much space between you as you can.

He smiles. “I’m gonna watch you dial,” he tells you calmly. “Make sure you keep your word. Okay, Doll?”

Posed like a question, although you both know you don’t exactly have a choice. And you'd likely point this out if you were just a touch braver, but nevertheless, you nod. Agreeing to his terms as you take the phone and begin to dial.

As the seconds go by, you feel him watching you closely while the line rings. Leaving you to desperately await the sound of your sweet Johnny’s voice. A sound you’ve never needed more than in this moment.

Yet his voice never comes, and your heart sinks to the cold floor blow as you return the phone to the desk.

“He…he must already be on his way,” you murmur, and the man hums.

“You think so?”

You nod weakly.

He takes a seat on the edge of the desk, just inches from your arm before leaning closer. “How much are you willing to bet, hm?” His brow raises. “How sure are you that your precious fiancé will actually save you tonight?”

You feel trapped by him now. The closer he moves, the faster your heart pounds. You have nowhere to run, no personal space to disappear into. 

But you only have to hold on for just a little longer. Johnny will come for you. He always does.

“Incredibly sure,” you respond, ignoring the slight waver in your voice. “He said he would be, so he will.”

The man considers this before clicking his tongue. “All right. Then how about I make you another deal, yeah? For every minute he’s late, and for every minute he leaves you here unattended…I’ll put an extra bullet through his head.”

A sharp chill runs down your spine, skin growing hot and prickly, but you force your expression to remain unfazed. “And why would you do that if you need him so badly?”

The gentleman laughs now. A sound that would almost be charming if he weren’t so vile. “Because I don’t need your precious Johnny,” he answers calmly. “I just need what’s in his safe.”

And despite the danger you’re in and despite your better judgment, your features scrunch into a grimace as you scoff, “Oh, how pathetic.”

Your reaction loosens his smile.

“Truly, how incredibly pathetic to come all the way down here at this time of night – and on Christmas Eve – just to break into his safe,” you huff. “Honestly. He won’t give you a damn thing. And you have absolutely no business to come storming in here and—”

You don’t get the chance to finish the rest of your furious scolding before he’s suddenly standing to his feet and wrapping his fingers around your arm.

Instantly, you’re yanked from your chair and shoved against the bookcase just behind you. Hard enough to knock the wind from your lungs as he traps you there, leaning in so close, his nose nearly brushes your own. 

“I’d be careful how you fucking speak to me, mama,” he seethes quietly, yet even still, there’s just an air of pleasure. “Because you might not get the chance to do it again.”

He’s desperate to scare you. Desperate to see you cry, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction.

Instead, you suck in a sharp breath, and do the one thing you can think to do:

You spit.

The collection of saliva just misses his eye, landing on his cheek with a rather wet splat until the amusement fades and fury takes its place.

His fingers leave your arm and find your throat, curling around the delicate skin and forcing your head up as he begins to chuckle darkly.

“So, that’s how you wanna play, hm, Doll?” Another tsk. “You wanna be bad? Wanna test my fucking patience?”

You squirm a bit in his hold, yet for some reason, you don’t feel as frightened as you did before. Because there’s this look in his eye – this hunger. And even though his grip is tight…you feel oddly safe.

“Better find a way to keep this pretty little mouth shut,” he says next, head cocking to the left almost curiously. “Or I’ll have to shut it for you.” 

His attention returns to your mouth, fingers slowly slipping up toward your chin until he can brush is thumb over the painted fibers of your lips.

Just enough to taunt you yet startle you all in the same second. 

“Maybe,” you finally breathe before jerking your head away from his cruel touch. “If you knew how.”

The cocky grin widens as his hand immediately returns to your neck. “Still disobeying me, hm?” he nearly purrs. “Guess I could always just squeeze this sweet, little throat to keep you quiet, yeah? Feel your pretty pulse beneath my fingertips. Feel the life drain from your body…watch the light go out in your eyes.”

You take in a strained inhale, and he makes a sound that almost sounds like a groan.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, moving in just a bit closer until his lips are ghosting across yours. “Or maybe…I could put my gun in your mouth. See how chatty you are then, yeah, mama?”

Your chest heaves anxiously, but you find just enough confidence to whisper, “But without your gun, how will everyone know what a tiny cock you have?”

And you’re so proud of yourself. So endlessly pleased with the way you’ve managed to make his smug expression waver, even if he keeps his smirk in place.

“Oh, you think that’s funny,” he snorts as you attempt to bite back a laugh. “Well, you wanna know what I think is funny? I think it’s funny that you said Johnny would be here…and he’s not.”

“He will be,” you retort, a bit firmer. “He will.”

“See…you keep saying that,” he muses, placing one hand on the bookshelf beside your head. Truly trapping you beneath him. “And yet…your noble fiancé still isn’t here to save you.”

You tilt your head back in an attempt to appear stronger, but it doesn’t seem to fool him. 

“Are you afraid?” he whispers, chest brushing against yours. “Are you afraid your Johnny won’t be able to keep you safe from the bad man?”

It’s almost hostile, the way he goads you. And yet you can hear just the slightest concern beneath his question.

“Or maybe you’re afraid he can’t pay up,” he continues. “Maybe you’re afraid he’ll have to find another way.”

Suddenly, the grip on your throat constricts. Recapturing your attention.

“Are you gonna be my other way, mama?” he exhales. “You gonna be my consolation prize?”

You feel dizzy. The room is spinning. And you aren’t sure if that’s because of the hold on your neck or the way he’s speaking to you. 

However, before you can decide if you’re actually intrigued by his intimidation tactics…the sound of footsteps echo outside through the hall.

Johnny.

It has to be him. You almost need it to be him, and your shoulders unwind as the man glances toward the closed door curiously before finally leaning back.

Then, he grabs onto your arm for a second time, and flings you back toward the chair. Shoving you down and keeping you still.

“You’re gonna sit here and you’re gonna keep your fucking mouth shut,” he hisses softly right as the door swings open. “And then maybe…I just might reward you.”

But you don’t even mind this malicious threat because then you see him. Your fiancé, smiling brightly as his eyes find you before they flick to the man to your right.

For a moment, he seems surprised, seemingly assessing your position and the situation before his grin widens. 

“Ah, Mr. Styles,” he calls as he strides into the room, quickly removing his hat and coat. “What a pleasant surprise. Did we have a meeting tonight?”

He seems relaxed. Almost too relaxed, as though he doesn’t view this man as a threat, and you aren’t sure whether to feel relieved or wildly confused. You hadn’t exactly expected him to grab the mysterious guest by the collar and throw him out the window, but you also didn’t expect him to welcome him with open arms. 

A strange man is alone with his future wife, in his office, in the middle of the night, and that doesn’t seem to concern him even a little?

Perhaps Johnny is far too friendly for his own good.

The gentleman, in turn, straightens up while subtly slipping the gun behind his back. Tucking it into his belt just out of view before Johnny can catch it. “Not quite,” he says coolly. “I’m here to discuss a bit of unfinished business.”

Your heart sinks, yet Johnny merely nods. “Ah, I see. Well, is there any way this can wait until after Christmas? It’s been a long night, and I’d like to be getting the lovely lady home.”

Now, both of their stares turn to you, and eagerly, you begin to rise from the chair. Grateful for the opportunity to leave this unsettling stranger behind.

Yet before you can even find your footing, the man’s hand is coming down in a firm smack on your shoulder to force you back down.

“I’m afraid the lovely lady isn’t going anywhere,” he replies, and you catch Johnny’s expression fall. “And neither are you. Have a seat.”

Johnny begins to frown. “Look, Harry, whatever business we might have, I’m sure it can—”

“I said, have…a seat,” the man – Harry – repeats a bit brasher. “Yeah? Or things will get a lot worse for your darling fiancé.”

Johnny hesitates, eyes flicking to yours. But he must notice the panicked look you wear because he finally sighs and does as instructed. Taking a seat in the chair just in front of the desk before glancing toward Harry.

Harry nods, almost proudly. “There you go. S’not so hard, is it?”

Johnny’s figure slumps but his lips purse together. “What do you want?”

“Oh, I just want to talk,” Harry says, his smirk returning. “And lucky for you, your schedule just cleared up.”

“Harry—” Johnny begins, leaning closer as though getting ready to stand.

But instantly, Harry is reaching back behind him for the gun, pulling it free, and aiming the barrel straight at his head.

Johnny quickly leans back, eyeing the weapon hesitantly while you gasp and glance up at the stranger pleadingly.

Harry only looks at Johnny. “See, I’m running out of fucking patience. Eight goddamn months I’ve had to listen to you go on and on about this special fucking shipment you got. And now…it’s time to collect.”

Your sweet fiancé understands now. Realizes why this man is here and how real the threat is, and glances back at you almost apologetically.

You merely mouth, “It’s okay.”

Johnny’s eyes flick back to the gun. “I’d be careful waving that thing around. Somebody might get hurt.”

The man merely hums. “Oh, I’m fucking counting on it.”

Now, the office grows quiet. A tense, charged sort of energy that filters between the three of you as Harry begins to walk around the desk.

“So,” he continues, grabbing onto the other free chair in order to spin it around and sit in a straddle, “where’s the safe, Johnny?”

Johnny’s brow raises, but his Adam’s apple bobs with a thick swallow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you do. Down at the club, you said you just got a brand new, fancy safe to hold everything from your latest shipment. Practically bragged about it to the whole goddamn bar, yeah? So…where is it?”

With piqued interest, you look between the two men curiously as you await Johnny’s answer. You’ve never really been sure where he gets all his money. You assumed most of it came from the bar and alcohol sales, so you’re rather stumped by what sort of shipment they might be referring to.

However, Johnny isn’t so quick to divulge all his secrets. “And what is it you’re expecting to get out of my safe, Mr. Styles?”

There’s another heavy pause as Harry rests his arms over the back of the seat and whispers, “Everything.”

Instantly, Johnny scoffs. “You think you can storm into my office on Christmas Eve and threaten my fiancé? Threaten me? That you’re entitled to anything you damn well please?” A bitter scoff as he leans back. “You’ll be arrested before morning, and you’ll never see a red fucking cent.”

 His retort dangles between them for only a moment as a breath catches in your throat. Pulse racing as you watch the stranger’s reaction closely.

Yet the mystery man doesn’t so much as flinch as he suddenly repositions the gun into the air, aims it just to the left of Johnny’s head, and fires.

The sound is deafening, much like your sharp, shrill shriek as the bullet flies through the air – just missing Johnny’s ear – and lodges into the wall behind him.

Johnny immediately flinches, eyes screwing shut and muscles recoiling before he seems to realize that he remains unharmed.

And once he does, he takes a deep breath, and begins to smirk. “You missed.”

“Did I?” Harry runs his tongue over his bottom lip before re-cocking the gun. “No, see…I never fucking miss. That was your first warning.” 

Johnny simply snorts. “Yeah? Well, eat my shit.”

Things move quickly from there.

Harry is instantly on his feet, tossing the chair aside rather angrily before he’s turning to you once more. And you don’t even have a moment to think before you’re being yanked from the seat for a second time and immediately tugged to his chest as he presses the barrel of the gun into the side of your temple. 

“Where’s the fucking safe, Johnny?” he says again, and you notice Johnny’s face pale.

“Styles,” Johnny murmurs, “you don’t have to do this—”

“The safe,” he seethes. “Where is it? Or do you need a little incentive, huh? Need to see her pretty little brains all over your goddamn floor? Is that what it’s gonna take?”

Poor Johnny doesn’t know what to do. He looks from the gun, to your face, to the arm keeping you hostage.

And you almost feel bad for him, yet you aren’t even afforded the chance for empathy before Harry furiously growls and shoves you in Johnny’s direction.

You stumble across the wooden floor until Johnny can quickly take you into his embrace, keeping you safe from the bad man as you begin to sniffle.

“My love,” he whispers, tightening his hold on your trembling frame while turning you away as if to protect you. “It’s gonna be all right, I promise.”

With a quick nod and a hiccup, you look up and slip your hands around his neck for comfort. “I know.”

He smiles.

It’s Harry’s disgusted sneer that brings you attention back. “Fucking pathetic. Really, mama? This is who you choose to save you?”

Your features fall ever-so-slightly while Johnny begins to pull you behind him, shielding you from the aggravated aggressor. “If you need money so badly, there are plenty of other ways.”

“It’s not just about money,” Harry retorts calmly. “It’s about your money. Yeah? So where’s the fucking safe.”

“None of your goddamn business—”

The reply no sooner leaves his mouth before there’s another gunshot fired into the air. 

One of the paintings on the wall falls with a crack and you jump almost two feet into the air, nails scratching down Johnny’s nice shirt.

“Johnny,” you whisper faintly, refusing to let this go on any longer. “Johnny, tell him. Tell him, please. I don’t care about the money; I don’t care about any of it. I just want you. I love you, and I can’t lose you.”

The office falls silent as you request hangs in the air, and you feel Johnny take in a deep breath.

“Yeah, Johnny,” Harry adds in a condescending murmur. “She loves you. Don’t make her watch you die. It’d be such a shameful waste of her tears.”

Johnny looks to you, and your expression softens. “It’s okay,” you tell him. “It’s okay, I promise.”

Finally, he sighs. “Under the desk.”

Harry’s head whips toward the large table curiously before he frowns. “Where?” he murmurs before repositioning the gun at Johnny’s chest. “I promise you don’t wanna lie to me.”

However, Johnny’s indifferent expression remains. “Under the desk,” he repeats while thrusting his chin toward the massive piece of furniture. 

And now Harry seems to understand, although it does little to relax him as he suddenly reaches for you again and yanks you from your lovers’ arms.

“Show me,” he hisses, keeping you hostage again while ushering Johnny forward with the barrel of the weapon. “And don’t be dense.”

And Johnny can do nothing but obey, seemingly defeated while sending you one last remorseful look. Finally moving to lift the desk and pull it back.

The sound of wood scraping against wood is heavy, and it takes him quite a while to relocate the table beneath the window by himself. 

But once it’s out of the way, you notice a particular part of the flooring juts out. The rotten board almost askew.

You and Harry lean closer, both magnetized by intrigue as he bends down in order to wrench the board up, revealing the hollow hiding place underneath.

And there you find it. The large, black box with a gold dial in the middle.

He glances up toward Harry, perhaps looking for permission – which Harry quickly gives him – before reaching down to put in the correct combination.

And after a couple seconds of clicking and turning…the door swings open.

Truth be told, you were hoping to find a secret gun that might help you out of this situation, but it seems there are no weapons to be found as Harry shoves you back in order to get a better look.

He no longer seems concerned about Johnny or the possibility that he might attempt to attack because Johnny seems to have given up. 

All your dejected fiancé does is straighten up and motion you back to him, watching Harry bend over and reach inside the safe almost uninterestedly. 

Your heart aches for him, yet you can’t help feeling relieved. You’re a few steps closer to this wretched night being over, and perhaps once Harry has what he came for, you’ll be able to leave.

“Are you all right?” Johnny whispers to you now as Harry begins to unload the contents in the floor. 

You nod quickly, clinging to his strong frame as though you’re scared you might be taken again. “Yes, I’m all right. Are you?”

“I will be once I know you’re safe,” he says, and your heart sinks.

Once everything inside the safe has been shoved into a bag, Harry turns to the two of you. “That was a good start, Winters. Now where’s the rest of it?”

Johnny frowns. “I don’t know what you mean. Everything I have is in there.”

But Harry only tsks as he sets the items down and begins to stride closer, making you curl even further into Johnny’s embrace. “Come on, now,” he mumbles almost tauntingly. “You know what I really want. And you know that you’re gonna fucking tell me. Isn’t that right, mama?”

He looks to you for only a moment as you swallow. 

Johnny begins to seethe. “No. No, you can have everything else, but you won’t touch that.”

“Johnny,” you try, unnerved by the sudden look of warning in Harry’s eye. “Johnny, please…just give it to him. Whatever it is, I don’t care, just…just make him leave.”

“Smart girl,” Harry adds. “Come on, Johnny boy, your darling fiancé is scared. Don’t you wanna save her?”

Your lover simply grows stiff, eyes narrowing at the faux sincerity in the stranger’s voice.

“Johnny,” you mumble again. “Johnny, please, he’s right. I’m scared and I don’t care about what you have or what you don’t have. I just want you. And I want him to go away.”

Still, Johnny wrestles with his decision. With the choice he’s being forced to make, and as the seconds go by, Harry’s patience reaches its limit.

He grabs for you – again. Forcing the weapon under your jaw this time around as Johnny’s muscles tense and his fingers curl into his fist.

“God, look at him,” Harry whispers to you now, lips ghosting up the shell of your ear while forcing your eyes on your fiancé. “Fucking look at your pathetic excuse for a man.”

You attempt to remain indifferent – appear unafraid – but he sees right through you.

“D’you really think he cares about you, Doll?” he murmurs. “Do you really think he’ll choose your life over his own?”

“Let her go,” Johnny barks, yet it only forces the barrel even further into your skin.

Your chin is tilted up, a sharp inhale getting caught in your throat until Harry begins to chuckle.

“How about this,” he says. “I’ll let you choose, mama. I’ll let you decide if he gets to watch me kill you…or if he gets to watch me take you. All for myself.”

“Fucking piece of shit—” Johnny hisses, but Harry simply tsks.

“So, what do you say? What’ll it be? Either way, I’ll have him on his goddamn knees by the end of the night. And then we all win, yeah?”

“Enough,” Johnny yells, and a strangled silence splits the air. “Fine. Fine, I’ll tell you. Just let her go.”

Harry’s arm begins to lower but not very far. “Once it’s in my hand, she’s all yours.”

And you want to resent these men for treating you like you’re some sort of object to be traded, yet you’d happily be given back to your lover if it meant you could leave this nightmare behind.

No matter the cost.

Johnny rolls his shoulders back and flicks his unrelenting stare back to his desk. “There. The picture.”

You feel your eyebrows raise while Harry slowly begins to loosen his hold on you.

“Get it,” he instructs, and with an aggravated sigh, Johnny obliges.

He retrieves the golden frame from the table before pulling open the back and removing the picture inside.

The picture of you.

It almost breaks your heart, the look on his face. Like he’s absolutely gutted to be defiling this memory of you both, and you ache to comfort him.

Once the photo has been plucked from the glass, you catch the faintest sparkle in the soft light of the moon, and hear yourself gasp.

There, sitting snug inside the small frame, is the biggest fucking diamond you’ve ever seen.

It’s…stunning. The most gorgeous jewel you’ve ever been privileged to lay eyes on, surrounded by what you can only assume to be hundreds of tinier diamonds and rubies arranged in a delicate but intricate pattern. 

Altogether creating the most breathtaking necklace you’ve ever seen.

It has to be worth hundreds of dollars – thousands, in fact – and Harry reaches over to take it from the frame with the biggest Cheshire-like grin you’ve ever seen.

This is what he came for.

“You have it, all right? You have it, now go,” Johnny calls, already attempting to reach for you. “You got what you want.”

With an agreeable hum, Harry studies the necklace a moment longer before finally looking to you. “You’re right. We did, didn’t we?”

You both smile.

Instantly, you raise the gun that Harry had discreetly and secretly slipped into your hand only moments ago and aim it at Johnny’s chest.

Three.

Johnny’s expression shifts, eyes widening as he begins to piece together what’s really going on. Why Harry looks so proud and why you look so relieved.

Two.

His lips part. Ready to speak to you, whisper your name, ask for an explanation. And a part of you can’t help but wonder if you’ll feel any remorse for the deception you’ve put him through these past few months.

But as you stare at him now…you feel nothing but liberation.

One.

The third and final gunshot echoes through the air. Louder and far more permanent. Resolute.

Johnny stumbles back, unable to catch himself before he goes tumbling to the ground. A dark red stain expanding like watercolor across his chest, ruining the clean white shirt underneath.

You’d bought him that shirt.

And as the look of life slowly leaves his eye, you feel your muscles unwind, and your shoulders droop.

It’s over.

Harry’s got his arms around you before you can even release the deep breath you’ve been holding onto for so long. 

“Oh, good fucking girl,” he nearly groans, pressing his lips to yours for the first time in months as you sling your arms around his neck. “Fucking hell, I missed you, mama.”

If Harry had had it his way, Johnny would have been dead months ago. He never liked this plan – not because he thought you couldn’t handle it, but because the idea of going without you for so long nearly killed him.

But it was the only way to gain Johnny’s trust. And to find his true weakness. He never would have given you the location of the safe or the necklace if you’d simply held him at gunpoint from the get-go.

No, he needed a reason to cave, a reason to put his possessions on the line in order to save something else he truly cared about.

And that’s where you came in.

Sure, it was hard to be without Harry, but you knew it had to be done. Getting these items would set you up for years. You’d never have to work in sleazy bars again. You could simply be with him…forever.

And perhaps pretending to be a stranger to him and appear frightened of his intentions wasn’t quite necessary, but you happen to like the roleplaying aspect. 

The way he threatened your life as though he wouldn’t do everything in his power to protect it. The way he taunted you, teased you, scared you…when he knew deep down how much you fucking loved it.

You can still feel his fingers around your neck. The pressure of his hand against your throat, holding you still, keeping you close. You hadn’t felt it in months and a part of you wanted to keep the game going for just a bit longer if it meant you could have him.

You weren’t able to run into his arms and kiss him the way you can now and it’s…perfect. Absolutely perfect.

“Did he hurt you?” he whispers, leaving a trail of kisses along your jaw. “Did he fucking touch you—”

“No,” you’re quick to assure him. “No, never. He wanted to, but I never let him.”

“Good.” He takes hold of your hip and gives it a firm squeeze. “Good girl, knew you’d be on your best behavior, yeah?”

You grin. “Of course. Only ever thought about you.”

“Is that right, doll?”

“Mhm.” You tuck your lip between your teeth and nuzzle your nose to his. “How could it ever be him?”

His lashes flutter, and you can see the edges of his frayed sanity coming loose. He’s had to pretend for far too long, and you don’t imagine he can do it much longer.

“Yeah?” he murmurs, nearly clawing at your dress. “Then, maybe I’ll—”

“What…did you do?”

The sound of Milton’s confusion pulls you apart instantly. He’s standing in the doorway, eyes wide, expression horrified. Looking from his boss, to you, to Harry, and back.

He sees the necklace on the desk, sees the gun in your hand, sees the bag of gold and cash lying at Harry’s feet.

He understands, and your heart almost sinks. Milton was one of the good ones.

Quickly, Harry takes the weapon from you and points it in Milton’s direction.

Milton only leans back with a soft inhale while you turn to your lover and whisper, “No. No, not him.”

Harry’s pursed lips and furrowed brows never waver. “What?”

“Not him,” you repeat, as firmly as you can.

And he hesitates for only a moment before dropping the weapon and nodding his chin at you. “Grab the bag and go out the window.”

You nod your understanding before stealing one last glance at the bartender by the door.

He’s heartbroken and terrified…but his features grow softer as he finally mumbles, “…five minutes. I’ll give you five minutes.”

And you can’t help but smile.

You rush to grab what you came for and hurry to the window, with Harry right behind you. You don’t have a lot of time. Once Milton makes the call to the police, you’ll need to be far enough away that they can’t find you.

You know they’ll be looking. Know they won’t stop until they find you both – after all, they’ve been searching for you for years.

But you don’t mind a life that’s on the run, as long as it’s with him. 

And the pleased smile he offers you now only confirms this.

You quickly lift the hem of your dress and begin over the ledge, with Harry right beside you to help. He takes your hand for support, keeping you steady until you can safely drop to the ground outside before he’s following suit.

The moment his feet hit the ground, you both run. The Chicago air is cold – frigid. You don’t have enough clothes to truly cover you and your feet are sore from having to wear these outrageous shoes all night.

But you somehow feel…alive. Invigorated and so very free. You have everything you’ve ever wanted.

You have him.

You both slip along the shadows as you make your way through town, leaving the speakeasy and Johnny Winters behind. After a minute or two, you hear the sirens in the distance, and the stakes are raised. They grow louder and louder the closer they get, and it’s then that Harry recaptures your hand and tugs you into a dark alleyway for cover.

This is where you stay until the cars have zipped down the street and proceeded without you. They don’t even think to look for you here and you’re rather impressed with your lover’s quick thinking.

Harry, however, isn’t as quick to revel in the success. Continuingly peeking around the corner in order to watch for anything unusual. Ignoring your amused laughter and giddy grin of accomplishment.

He’s on edge. Alert. Ready to run again if need be, and while you rather admire his practiced precision, you hope to put it to better use. 

You drop the bag near the wall and make your way for him, palms quickly finding his cheeks in order to pull his attention to you.

He grunts. “What?”

But you don’t answer with words. You answer with a kiss. A kiss that makes your stomach flip and your mind grow fuzzy.

And this seems to be explanation enough as he groans with approval and wraps his arms around your middle to keep you against his chest. Nipping and licking at you as though his life depends on it.

Perhaps it does.

He shoves you back against the brick after only a few seconds, finding the leverage he needs in order to deepen the kiss and truly claim you. In a way he’d been desperate to the moment he saw you sitting in that office in such a beautiful dress.

“Trying to distract me, hm?” he murmurs, and you can’t help but smile. “Yeah? Or did you just need me that badly?”

He spins you around, pressing your cheek to the cold blocks of clay before dancing his fingers down your spine. Indulging in you.

It makes your insides twist.

You feel the hem of your dress gather in his fist as he finally gets a proper look at what he’s been missing for months. And the sound he makes goes straight to your cunt.

“You filthy fucking thing,” he whispers, rather delightedly while moving in to trail his mouth along your neck. “Look at you. Look at how perfect you are.”

His fingers find your pussy, stroking over your covered slit once or twice before plucking the covering from your hips and dragging it down your thighs. 

“Just dripping for me, yeah? All fucking night.” He drags his palm up the inside of your leg. “Power makes you weak, doesn’t it, mama?”

You nod desperately, unable to answer with words.

But he understands, smirking to himself rather deviously before his hands are tangling in your hair in order to yank your head back. Just to hear you choke on a whine. “I’ve waited months for this. Yeah? M’gonna take my time with you…gonna make it worth it.”

And you don’t doubt that you will.

You nod again as the sound of his leather belt coming undone echoes between your ears. You’re trembling with anticipation, body aching for the feel of his cock. It’s been far too long, and you’ve nearly withered away without him.

You imagine he feels about the same, already fisting himself in one hand and readjusting your dress in the other. You hear him mumble something under his breath – you’re not quite sure what. But you suppose it doesn’t matter. He can say whatever he likes as long as he gives you what you need. 

Normally, he’d take his time. He loves to make a show out of ruining you, but there’s no chance for that tonight. No patience. So, he kicks your feet apart, grabs your hip, and eases himself in all before you can take a breath.

And it’s perfect. Exactly the way you remember. The stretch, the scratch, the desperation. Nobody feels the way he does, and you both know it.

He’s still for a moment, merely pushing himself in and watching your pussy swallow him whole. As if so overcome by the sensation that he can’t do much else. As if losing control over his own body.

So, you push against his chest to remind him you’re here while your fingers reach back for his hair in order to tug it softly.

You feel him smile against your cheek. “All fucking night,” he whispers the moment he’s buried to the hilt. “Knew exactly what you were doing, didn’t you?”

You grin as well. You’re rather happy he noticed.

“Spitting in my fucking face,” he continues. “Challenging me. Acting like a fucking brat. S’all cause you were so fucking needy for me, wasn’t it, mama?”

“Maybe,” you can’t help but retort. “Maybe I knew you’d like it.”

He laughs now. A low, deep, sadistic sound from the back of his throat. Using his hold on your scalp to force your head into his shoulder. “Is that right, hm?”

You only nod.”

“Yeah? Then say it,” he hisses. “Tell me you missed me. Tell me you missed my cock. That nobody fucks you like I do—”

He accompanies this request with his first, sharp thrust. Pulling back only to drive himself in so hard, the air is nearly knocked from your lungs.

“Because they can’t, can they?” he coos, yet it’s angry. Fingers moving from your hair to your neck. Squeezing until you gasp. “Nobody knows how to treat this little pussy like I do. Do they?”

You fall mute. Going limp in his hold as the pleasure begins to build.

“You love it when I fuck you like this.” His nose presses to your cheek as he breathes, your delicate throat a plaything in his touch. “Love it when I kill for you. Love it when I make you mine—”

You gasp at the ecstasy, hardly able to hear him, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You love me,” he murmurs, and you just about disappear into his embrace.

“I do,” you gasp, almost too loudly. “I do, Harry, please—"

“Quiet,” he hisses, glancing now toward the street in order to make sure the police haven’t found their way to you. “You know better than that. You’ll take me and you’ll do it quietly. Understood?”

Your only response is to whimper pitifully while your nails scratch down the brick walls of the alley.

In turn, he grasps onto your jaw, forcing your head to the side until your eyes can meet. “I said, is that fucking understood?”

“I thought you said to be quiet,” you can’t help but retort, and he hums.

“Oh, is that how you wanna play it?” He releases your throat only to take hold of your hips once more and spin you around between thrusts. Quickly returning to his place between your thighs before lifting one of your legs and hiking it around his waist.

“What…” you begin, chest heaving as the tip of his cock drags down your clit. “What are you—” 

“Had to see you,” is his gritted response. “Had to see this pretty, bratty face as I ruined you.”

You imagine you’d smile if you weren’t so close to coming apart, but he understands. Pressing his forehead to yours before reaching up toward the top of your dress and ripping the fabric down to reveal your chest. 

You can tell he’s been wanting to do this all night. Know he’s been ogling your tits from behind the expensive fabric since the moment he walked in, and truth be told, that’s the real reason you wore it. 

Not because Johnny loves you in red.

But because Harry deserved to look at something pretty.

The cold air meets your skin with an unforgiving fervor, and you squirm against the brick as Harry’s eyes fall to the tattered fabric lying so pathetically on your chest.

Instantly, his head dips, mouth leaving open and sloppy kisses to the beautiful pair before him. Tongue stroking the hardened nipples rather respectfully, all things considered.

In turn, you run a hand through his dark curls as he does this to you. As you watch him take whatever he wants. Feeling the way his hair moves like butter between your fingers. The way he hums against you. The way his lashes flutter.

You’ve missed this.

Then, your grip tightens, and you yank his head up until his lips can meet yours. And you take. Take the taste of him, the taste of you, and the taste of victory.

His palm comes up to rest against the wall beside your head. Steadying himself as he works to find that perfect rhythm again. Over and over and over.

And all you can do is move your anxious kisses to his throat as he fucks into you. Whispering, “Nobody, baby. Nobody feels like you do. Nobody.”

Your fingers trail down his strong back, feeling each muscle that dips and flexes as he moves. The way he grunts when you scratch your nails down his spine. The way he consumes you and succumbs to you all at once.

Johnny was beautiful, but Harry is a beast. You’ve never seen a man like this before – never felt a man like this before. Every curve of his body is ethereal. Every detail, every touch.

Your touch continues to move lower and lower down his strong frame until you find something at the base of his spine.

And it makes you grin.

You slip it from his belt with ease, feeling the way it sits firmly in your hand as though it were made for it.

Harry doesn’t seem to notice. Or perhaps he just doesn’t care with the way he’s so deep into you. Emotionally, physically.

But he’s quickly pulled from his pleasured trance the moment he feels the familiar, cool touch of his gun sweeping across his jaw.

He stills. Straightening up ever-so-slightly, eyes finding yours.

But you’re too busy gazing at the barrel that dances across that beautiful face. 

After all, he got to have his fun this evening.

Now it’s your turn.

You bring it to a stop just under his chin, tilting his head up exactly the way he’d done to you earlier as he releases a deep breath.

“Mama…” he warns, but you only hum.

This isn’t the first time this deadly weapon has made this an unofficial threesome, but it is certainly the first time you’ve been the one to wield it.

You hate guns. You do. But you love Harry’s. The way he holds it. The way he handles it. The way he uses great care and great power.

Because there’s something about seeing him with it. Seeing the way he controls it, controls the room. The way he holds someone’s life in the palm of his hand…

Perhaps you should be concerned by how enamored you are by it. By him.

But not tonight. Tonight, you simply enjoy.

And from the look in his eye, he seems to be enjoying it, too.

After all, you know he loved watching you use it on Johnny. Know he almost had you right then and there, on Johnny’s desk, before the mission was even through.

He’s endlessly pleased with you, and you can’t help but use this to your advantage.

So, with the weapon still taut to his clenched jaw, you lean forward and ghost your lips over his. “What’s the matter, Daddy? Does power make you weak?”

The twitch of his cock is answer enough.

You go in for the kill. With your fingers dancing over the trigger button, you lean back and dip down before dragging your tongue up the length of the barrel.

His eyes nearly roll back, and the sound that leaves his chest is euphoric. You think you might just kill him.

Because you’re slow. Meticulous. Licking every inch of the weapon until you finally reach the tip still tucked just beneath his chin.

Then…you kiss him.

And he’s so overwhelmed that he growls into your mouth, no longer threatened by the gun at his throat. Instead grabbing onto the back of your neck in order to squeeze it tight and keep you close. Devour you the way he’s been so frantic to.

You don’t even realize that you’ve begun to lower the gun until you feel it snatched from your grasp.

And pressed tightly to your clit.

The cold surface of the weapon against the warmest part of your body has you arching your back with a whimper. He has the upper hand once more, and he’s certainly not about to waste it. Mouth curling up into a satisfied, smug grin at the way your expression has gone hazy.

You’ve never looked at another man the way you look at him and he knows it.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asks softly, adding just enough pressure to make you whine. “All fucking night? The moment you saw me? Saw my gun? Wanted me to fuck you with it?”

Your nails meet your chest, scratching down the frigid skin in a desperate attempt to find something to ground you.

His only response is to drag the tip of the weapon down just a bit further. Until he can watch it glisten in you.

“Fucking looking at you,” he muses beneath a strained exhale, enamored by the way you subconsciously begin to grind on it. “So desperate to feel it. To be fucked by it. And what if I do, hm? What if I fuck you with my gun right here in this alleyway?”

You only whisper his name and an airy, “Please…”

“I thought about it,” he continues quietly, nose brushing yours as he slips the soaked barrel back up your cunt. “Thought about ripping off this pathetic little dress and fucking you right in front of your precious fiancé.”

You wish he had.

“You’d have liked that, wouldn’t you, mama?” His fingers drum against the handle. “Yeah? I know you would. Would have loved to watch him watch me.”

And he’s not wrong. He hardly ever is when it comes to your darkest fantasies, and it’s just one of the many reasons why you love him.

“But I had to wait,” he tells you now, finally pulling the gun away from your dripping clit until you nearly crumple to the cold concrete below. “Because after all this time…I’m the only thing that gets to fill you tonight, yeah?”

You simply nod again as he brings the gun back to your mouth with a proud grin.

And you know exactly what he wants, swiping your tongue all along the barrel and tasting every drop, every indication of your need for him. Swallowing it all as he watches proudly.

The moment you’re finished, he takes the gun and returns it to his pocket, tucking it away safely. Because he’s right again, and you need to feel him far more than you’ve ever needed anything else.

So, you grasp onto his face and bring his lips to yours, allowing him to pick up right where he left off.

Because as much as you love the power…you love being weak for him more.

At least in moments like this.

He fills you and fucks you until you’re dizzy. Until you can taste the pleasure and the unraveling. 

You make a show of it. A way to apologize for all the time lost. Trailing the tips of your fingers along your own chest and down your sternum until you notice you have his attention.

He watches you take your tit into your palm before you’re tweaking the hardened nipple with a soft whine. Allowing your head to drop back into the wall while you do it again and again.

And he’s an angry sort of infatuated. Groaning almost pitifully before kissing you again and easily swatting your hand away in order to do it himself.

But that’s still not enough. So, you play your ace, and move your touch down to your clit in order to pinch it exactly the way he likes.

And it’s beautiful. The most exhilarating feeling, and this is what sends him over. The feel of your pussy clamping down on his cock, the sight of your fingers against your clit, the sound of your pathetic whimpers and pants as you cry out his name.

He fills you before he can stop himself, kissing you quickly as he releases into your aching, abused cunt. 

Claiming you in more ways than one until you have no choice but to follow.

It rips you apart in the same way he ripped the dress. Until you see stars, and your back arches, and your toes curl. And everything makes sense.

He works to make it last for as long as he can, and once it’s all over, there’s a soft, tender moment of silence as you work to catch your breath.

You forget about everything else. The sirens, the lies, the deceit. Even Johnny. You forget about it all.

Because you got more than a diamond necklace tonight.

You got Harry back.

After a second or two more, you lazily reach up to sweep some of his rogue curls from his forehead. Wanting to really see his eyes as he holds you tonight.

“Harry?” you whisper into the cold, dark alley.

He hums. “Yes, mama?”

“I love you.”

And you’ve never seen him so happy. “I love you more,” he breathes, kiss you again as if to cement this vow.

Eventually, the moment comes to pass, and you have to drop your leg back down to the floor and part from him. You find that your muscles are sore, and just a touch achey, but you don’t even mind. Because it’s somehow just as deliciously pleasurable.

Harry works to readjust your dress and keep you covered; despite the way he’s ruin the expensive fabric. He offers you his jacket – insists on it. Wrapping it around your shoulders before you can even argue.

You smile as you snuggle into the warm material, feeling calmed by the familiar smell of him.

“There,” he says as he looks at you before his head tilts. “Just missing one thing.”

Curious, you watch as he slips his hand back into his pant pocket in order to fish something out.

The necklace.

He hadn’t told you about it before the mission. Only about the safe, and now you think you’re beginning to realize why.

He places it around your neck and readjusts the clasp until it can sit comfortably over your heart. 

And you both look down as it sparkles from your chest, smiling together as though you truly can’t believe it’s real.

“You like it?” he whispers.

You grin so wide, your cheeks hurt. “I love it.”

He kisses you again, and it’s perfect.

Everything. All of it.

Him.

Suddenly, a loud toll echoes through the small town. The sharp chime coming from the clocktower in the town square.

Once, twice, three times. 

Midnight.

“It’s Christmas,” you realize aloud as you and Harry both glance toward the clock. 

His expression softens, and it makes your heart soar. “I guess it is.”

And then…you feel it. The first drop of something cold on your cheek. And then another. And another. And another. Gathering in your hair, getting stuck on his lashes.

Snow.

With a gasp, you look up into the dark sky as it dances down onto the quiet Chicago streets.

A rather perfect ending to a perfectly imperfect day.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

With a soft giggle, you curl yourself under his arm and press your lips to his cheek. “Merry Christmas, Harry.”

He laughs, and you’ve never been so happy.

“Merry Christmas, Mama.”

I'M SORRY THIS ONE GOT A BIT DARKER, IT WAS FUN BUT MOSTLY JUST FOR THE ERA ASPECT!! Thank you for reading if you did and letting me write something a little weirder 😭💞

~ Main Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs

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[eggonthemoon]

Alien Stage Round 6 Character Analysis and Lyrics Breakdown

Okay so obviously spoilers, don't click Keep Reading if you haven't watched Round 6.

God fuck it's so fucking beautiful, where do I start?

I don't even know what is going on with those rapid shots of what I assume is some form of experiment that Till was involved in. I have no clue what the goal was or if it succeeded but somehow (for no real reason other than that one image of Luka standing behind Till ominously) I feel that Luka is involved with it.

Was this an attempt by Heperu's (Luka's guardian) rival to make a human capable of going up against Luka? Till being the youngest and Luka being the oldest also means that Till's guardian could have caught on to what Heperu was planning to do with Luka and then start experimenting on humans shortly after and it would still somewhat line up with the timeline.

But I'm getting into conspiracy territory, back to suffering!!

Allow me, to the tips of your fingers

Allow me, to the ends of your feet

Dissolve me in your gaze

I don't want to let you go

Oh this hurts. Seeing him look so defeated and exhausted, you can tell that even though to the public it's not certain whether Mizi died or not it doesn't matter to him. Because she's still gone away from his world, where he is unable to reach her. He wants to dissolve and die but he also doesn't want to let her go if there is even a sliver of hope that she lives.

Please, leave me scars

Please, hurt me so that

Not a single drop of me remains

Let me drown in you

The footage that plays to these lyrics really show how defeated he is. He refuses to sing, his passion for the art completely dead and buried. And (his guardian I assume) when someone shoves the fact that Mizi is gone in his face he lashes out and punches one of the aliens near him.

Until these falling stars

Are buried in the blur of time

However his heart isn't entirely in it and is quickly apprehended.

He is beyond exhausted and doesn't even protest or put up a fight while (the same alien he punched btw) another alien runs their fingers through his hair.

On your icy lips

Read my soul

Yes, my soul

He hopes that even if Mizi is dead that her spirit watches over him, seeing his soul and by extension, Him, for all that he is. Every thought and breath until he falls asleep is for Mizi.

But didn't we already know this is how he'd be like? Time for something juicier~

Even if your cold words

Carve scars beneath my eyes

May they linger on your tongue

You can break me apart

God this is heart shattering. Even if Till doesn't care for him, even if Till throws hurtful words his way, Ivan will still lie awake at night, cherishing what sliver of attention he is given. It doesn't matter if Till hates him, because as long as he is on Till's mind Ivan is happy. He is entirely in Till's hands, capable of being build up or torn down depending on how much (or how little) he is perceived by him.

Notice my pain

And mend me right now

To quiet my fears

I'll drown in you

He wants so deeply to be seen by Till, noticed. Till who doesn't let anything hold him down and always picks himself back up became a pillar of hope and strength to Ivan. It didn't matter how or in what context he gets to be seen, so he went out of his way to provoke him just to get Till to look at him even for a moment.

This was mentioned a while back on VIVINOS Patreon but the entire incident where Mizi and Till got attacked by that hound monster was orchestrated by him. I feel like there is two possible reasons for this depending on when in the timeline this takes place.

Either he wanted to test Till's resolve in hopes of being proven wrong about his courage (after all your hopes can't be dashed on the rocks, if you never had hopes to begin with) only for his obsession to end up growing even stronger than before.

Or he tried to let Till get roughed up enough that he'd be transferred (solitary confinement? emergency room?) somewhere else away from the others at Anakt, so they could escape together.

But we all know how that turned out.

Either way what Ivan wants isn't freedom, he's long since given up on that. There's no point in his freedom if the person that inspired him to yearn for it isn't by his side. He needs Till there, his very presence to reassure him that no matter what Till won't falter. But he failed to take account of the one thing that weakens Till's resolve.

Mizi.

Mizi is to Till what Till is to Ivan. And so without Mizi in his world Till crumbles. Since Till will only go where Mizi is and Mizi already gave away her heart to someone else, it's impossible for Ivan to be free while keeping Till in his world.

And so he follows him, resigning himself to a life without freedom.

Sick of these nights to come

To be engulfed in silence

But the distance between them is killing him, and each and every day they come closer to their inevitable doom.

It doesn't matter if they believe the lie the aliens told them, that if they die singing they will be blessed. Because what is the point in that? How can going somewhere far away from the people they love be a blessing?

In your gaze where I am seen

Consume me

Yes, me

His desires mirror Till's. He wants his soul to be seen by him, recognized for his undying love for him. He wants Till to see that he can give him all that Till yearns for in Mizi and more.

To this everlasting melody

Face to face we dance

And yet Till still refuses to look Ivan in the eyes.

Things get a little unclear but since they aren't shown singing here and there's no flashback to accompany the lyrics, we can assume that at this moment Till most likely gave up on singing.

With our story

Lost in forever's embrace

I'm not sure if Ivan intended this from the start or if it's a decision he made then and there but one thing is certain. If Till stops singing then that would mean he forfeits, he'll lose. Till has never once given up. Even when he went back for Mizi that night, he never intended to leave her in the first place. But now without her he crumbles.

And Ivan can't let that happen, not like this.

Moral grey area aside, this scene is so deeply moving to me

And I don't say that in a romantic context, absolutely not. This is something much deeper than just love. This is the culmination of everything they've been through, all those moments lead up to this.

Because this isn't a kiss.

This is Ivan throwing his life away for Till.

Till was going to loose, the only thing that could overturn that is if his opponent attacks him. The kiss was to distract Till and keep him from catching up to what Ivan was planning.

Just look at the contrast between their first and second kiss. As soon as the score board shows Till is in the lead, he gives him a gentle peck on the lips. The contrast is stark and full of meaning. This was the genuine kiss, hidden behind a smokescreen of aggressive bravado created from the previous one.

And it worked. Till was completely convinced that Ivan's intentions was to kill him, and he was fully intent on letting him.

I know a lot of people doubted his intentions. Because he didn't let go of Till's neck the minute he saw their scores, a lot of people assume that this was Ivan trying to drag Till down with him.

But the minute he coughed up blood what does he do?

He smiles.

and let's Till go.

He's only human. He might know logically that Till has won the match. But emotionally he refuses to let go until he is certain.

Until he knows for a fact that he is the one bleeding and dying he'll keep up his charade.

And then.

And only then.

Till truly sees Ivan.

As he dissolves in his gaze.

#THEY RUINED MY LIFE /POS #I FUCKING HATE THEM /AFFECTIONATE #ivantill #alnst till #alnst ivan #alnst mizi #alnst #alien stage #에이스테 #ramble rumble #I don't know what happened #I had a thought and a neuron activated #I think I might have ascended #alnst spoilers #alnst round 6

[cinnamon-galaxies]

Unspoken Feelings

Pairings: Alastor x gn!Reader

Warnings/Tags: gn!reader, tension, lots of tension, unspoken feelings, hurt but also comfort?, Alastor is bad at feelings, inner conflict, suppressed feelings, does the ending count as (light) angst?, bittersweet ending, I'm bad at tagging

Summary: Loving you is hard, but being with you is harder. And being with Alastor is dangerous.

Wordcount: 1.9k

A/N: This one is very short compared to my other fic but full of (heartbreaking) tension.

*****

{Masterlist}

───*✱*.｡:｡*✱*.:｡.*✧*.:｡*✰*｡:.*✧*.｡:.*✱*｡: ｡.*✱*───

You sat at the grand piano in the dimly lit lounge of the hotel. Your fingers glided gracefully across the keys, seamlessly transitioning between the notes with a captivating elegance. With closed eyes you surrendered to the enchanting melody, completely entranced by its spell. Your soft voice sang along, a subtle sound that harmonized with heartbreaking lyrics of the ballad that had such a special place in your heart, reminding you of bittersweet moments and cherished dreams.

   Alastor sat not far from you in an armchair with a glass of whiskey in his hand. His crimson eyes remained fixed on you, captivated by your fervent performance that fully caught his attention. Though he heard you play before he had never witnessed such a fiery passion put into the music that came from your fingers. Your singing voice was enchanting, echoed from the high ceiling like a siren’s song casting a spell on every person who could hear you. It was as though you were revealing a concealed message and opening your heart to whatever you had in mind.

   He closed his eyes while he let himself get bewitched by your spell, fully succumbing to your beautiful performance. Were you even aware that he was watching you? Listened to you singing and playing like a muse? He didn’t know it but also he didn’t care as long as you kept playing and filled the hole in his heart with the sound of your song, as a clenching feeling tugged on his stomach, clouded by a pang of longing. He knew exactly what he felt right now. How he felt about you, but expressing those emotions was a different story. He wasn’t good at feelings, let alone at admitting them. It was hard to even admit them to himself, just to begin with. He found himself caught up in denial for far too long and had blamed it on his mind playing tricks on him – he even preferred to diagnose himself as mentally ill than to just accept the fact that he had grown  fond of you. Way too fond.

   That he started longing for you.

   Loved you.

   Love.

   He let out a dismissive laugh that was far too quiet for you to hear over the sound of the piano.

   Love was a feeling he had never felt before. At least not in this way. He had loved his mother unconditionally. She had been the closest and dearest person to him that ever existed in his whole lifetime. And there were other people who were close to him and who he cared about. A lot. But nothing like this could be compared to what he felt in your presence. What feelings you evoke deep inside of him as he looked you in the eyes, felt your lingering gaze on him, listened to you talk and laugh with all your heart. The way his thoughts about you occupied his every breath and kept him awake at night because otherwise if he closed his eyes all he could see was your beautiful face haunting his mind like a tormenting ghost. Oh sweet hells, he even dreamed about you. Was this really the love people were so obsessed with and that was considered the most beautiful thing in the world? There was no way he could comprehend this; no matter how hard he tried. You possessed his every thought and made him question his sanity. It was an uncomfortable feeling that tugged on him, almost completely tore him apart. He hated it. But yet he didn’t want to miss it.

   He opened his eyes again, watching your graceful silhouette moving in front of the grand piano and couldn’t help himself but smile contendly, his eyes glowing with sparks of joy. Though no matter how many feelings of happiness tingled in his guts, he felt heartbroken at the same time. Your relationship has always been complicated. You danced around each other, both too far to take the leap. There was so much on you that Alastor admired. Your view on life and your admiration for the smaller things. The way you animatedly gestured around while you told him a story and how your eyes sparkled with anticipation whenever you were about to do the things you adored the most. He admired your creativity and your talent, the passion you put into your music when you played one of your instruments and used your powerful voice to sing along. The way you danced with him as if you were a graceful swan. He also admired your strength and independence, your self-confidence, your stubbornness, your abnormal sense of humor and psychotic tendencies that always reminded him that you were in hell for a reason. He admired the way you weren’t afraid to show off your insanity, even implemented some of your sickest fantasies on hell’s worst spawns. He admired you.

   Alastor took a sip of his whiskey. His thoughts made him sound like a fool – an immature and cheesy teenager – whenever he tried to unravel the clot that every oh so normal person considered love.

   By now he was aware that he himself had become a victim of this cruel but also beautiful torture. But no matter how confident he was of his actions his own demons held him back to fully committing to you and the feelings he harbored in his chest, carefully tucked away in a heart shaped box. He was everything but a saint. He’d never be enough for you because he knew that he would never change. All he could give you was sorrow and pain and if there was one thing he didn’t want you to bear, it was you suffering from his incapabilities of being the lover you deserved.

   The song came to an end and that was when Alastor noticed that he had swallowed his whole drink within the shortest amount of time. Not good, as he already felt the effects of the alcohol starting to cloud his senses.

   Through the corner of his eye he saw you move and when he turned his face towards you, you caught him by surprise as he met your gaze. Time stood still for a short moment, his heart pounded in his chest as he returned your startled gaze. You obviously hadn’t been aware of his presence until now.

   Alastors smile widened in amusement at your dumbfounded expression but he didn’t laugh. Instead, his voice was calm and smooth as he said, “That was quite the performance, my dear.”

   You forced yourself to smile, trying hard to hide your embarrassment in front of him – unsuccessfully. What a cute sight, Alastor thought but shook off the thought as soon as it entered his mind.

   “Thank you, Alastor,” you responded to him, your voice much more confident than your startled body language expressed. A wave of reassurance overcame you and you calmed down, recovering from the surprise of your unexpected listener. “It’s always nice to have a captive audience. Even though I would’ve preferred to be aware of it,” you then added with a soft voice, a genuine smile forming on your lips.

   Alastor chuckled softly. “Well, consider me captivated, indeed.”

   The room became silent for a moment as you and Alastor exchanged glances, the air heavy with unspoken words. There was a moment of silent understanding between you, a shared acknowledgement of the unspoken feelings that lingered beneath the surface. Alastor knew he had to say something, to break the tension between you, but the words caught in his throat, unable to be spoken out loud. It was one of those moments when he should have risen from his seat and approached you, embracing your delicate presence and pulling you in a tender kiss. It was what he had dreamed about for weeks, one of those perfect moments that needed no words but mere actions to confess your feelings for each other. There was no doubt that you felt the same for him. Alastor knew that you returned his feelings (at least in some similar way). You had to. Otherwise you would have acted differently in his presence, less nervous, less attentive in his personal needs, less affectionate. You would’ve maintained less eye contact with him, not lingering your gaze longer on him than necessary and not secretly stealing glances. Yes, he knew about it but not only because he could feel it when he was watched, but also because people had told him. Not only Charlie had tried to confront him about the supposed ‘tension’ between the both of you, but also Angel couldn’t help but joke loudly about it. Alastor was told how much you smiled in his presence, how much more vivid you behaved in his presence, that subtle tries of yours to catch his attention without raising suspicion. Well, your attempt to remain inconspicuous seemed to have failed – at least in the eyes of the other residents. If no one had told Alastor about it and he wouldn’t have spent time actively paying attention to your changes in behavior around him, he would have never noticed. Never guessed it. You were truly bad at concealing your feelings. Did you even try?

   Normally Alastor would’ve laughed at this thought. But in this moment there was nothing to laugh about as the tension between you burned with a subtle passion, drawing the both of you to each other in an unspoken longing.

   You loved him at least as much as he loved you.

   You wanted him at least as much as he wanted you.

   And you needed him at least as much as he needed you.

   At least that’s what Rosie had told him when he had spent a whole afternoon conversing with her about that peculiar demoness that made him feel things he never thought possible. But yet, Alastor remained in his armchair, returning your loving expression with unveiled eyes. His breath was heavy and his heart pounded in his chest like a drum on a battlefield.

   Oh, how much he wanted to touch you.

   To get close to you.

   To hug you.

   To kiss you.

   To make him his. For the rest of eternity.

   But he knew his inner demons would show you no mercy. That he would just hurt you to a point of no return. And that was something he was determined not to allow under any circumstances. Something he would never forgive himself for. And he would hurt you. He knew that.

   Alastor felt a lump building in his throat and held his breath as it was too painful to continue breathing with that pressure clenching his chest. 

   The both of you stood there for a moment longer, staring at each other but remained in your unmoved state, silently confessing to each other without a spoken word.

   Without making a sound Alastor stood up, his hand wrapped tightly around his empty whiskey glass, knuckles whitening under the pressure. He offered you a small, toothless smile before turning around to leave. His heart was heavy from unspoken desires and the pain of his decision tore his heart into shreds as he left you alone. The door swung close behind him and Alastor couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss wash over him. He knew that loving you was hard. And being without you was even harder.

   Cruel.

   But it was for the best.

   He could never love you the way he wanted to – the way you deserved it. And if protecting you meant tearing himself apart in the most gruesome ways possible, so it should be.

*****

#alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #alastor imagine #alastor fanfiction #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #reader fic #reader insert #gn reader #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x oc #hazbin alastor #radio demon #hazbin hotel oneshots #oneshot #i'm bad at tagging #fanfic #hurt/comfort #angst #heartbreak #bittersweet

[earlgreytea68]

The Fall Out Boy Year in Review

Because did anything else happen in 2023?????

This was a band that started this year with a bunch of people with all these theories that they were going to announce their retirement and they ended the year rejuvenated, reenergized, ready to go.

Let me count the ways Fall Out Boy was amazing this year:

At the very beginning of the year, they gave a performance, and Pete and Patrick did a pre-show interview, and Pete leaned his hand on Patrick’s shoulder and they grinned and grinned at each other and it was amazing and it was like, “Is this how the year is going to go????” AND LO, THAT’S HOW THE YEAR WENT.

The show at the Metro, when they threw Calm Before the Storm into the setlist and it felt so extraordinary and the crowd just shouted every word at them and then they played their first “Saturday” of the year and Patrick said how it always means a lot to them but it means more at home, YOU SEE, THE WHOLE YEAR WAS LIKE THIS.

They went to a gay bar and Pete and Patrick approvingly joked about sucking dick, so YEAH, THEN THAT HAPPENED.

Pete said that at least once a week he was told by people that their faces would melt off if they played this song live, so he wanted to see faces melting off, and then Patrick barreled into Headfirst Slide and the crowd was so loud at him that he let them take the “get unique” line, grinning the whole time, EVERYTHING WAS LIKE THIS ALL THE TIME.

I’m five points in and just getting to the fact that they released a new album and it was incredible from start to finish, every single song was amazing and extraordinary and so very them and so very what it’s like to be alive in 2023. THE ALBUM WAS GREAT AND WOULD HAVE BEEN ENOUGH ON ITS OWN BUT THEN SO MUCH MORE STUFF HAPPENED.

Then they ran around promoting this album and Patrick said that Pete is his reason for getting out of bed in the morning and that’s one of, like, sixteen different proclamations of adoration about Pete that he made in a span of a week BECAUSE THE WHOLE YEAR WAS JUST LIKE THIS.

Then they went on tour and somehow got it into their heads to play a new song every night, just, like, why not, right, just pulling all the most meaningful songs of their career out of their back pockets as if they had never given the impression that they would never, ever play that song, BUCKLE UP, THE WHOLE RIDE WAS JUST BEGINNING.

Pete gave a speech about how he doesn’t lay under a blanket thinking about being dead anymore, oh my god, these boys who figured out finally how much they’re loved, HOW THIS ALL HAPPENED IS AMAZING.

We got to watch Pete grow and develop all of his little concert speeches and then Pete was like, “Oh, also, I’ve decided to add in this feature called Riff with Patrick,” and all this segment was was them grinning at each other, because WHY NOT JUST ADD THIS TO EVERYTHING ELSE THAT HAPPENED THIS YEAR.

They released an updated version of “We Didn’t Start the Fire” and it’s fantastic and was a big hit for them and anyone who likes to think Fall Out Boy doesn’t know how to write lyrics because it’s not chronological needs to just think for two seconds about it, THE SONG IS GREAT AND THE YEAR ALREADY HAD SO MUCH AND THEN ANOTHER SONG!!!

Patrick. Played. “Spotlight.” Like. Unthinkable. Absolutely unthinkable. He played “Spotlight” and the crowd sang with him and he looked out and laughed and said, “That’s a lot of lights,” AND THEN THE YEAR COULD HAVE ENDED BUT IT DID NOT.

PATRICK PLAYED THE DRUMS, sorry, I will never be over that, ever, ever, ever, ever.

At some point in there Pete gave an interview with a rabbit puppet on his hand? And Patrick petted the puppet very carefully???? WHY WAS THIS YEAR LIKE THIS??????

Patrick sang “I’ve Got a Dark Alley” so gentle, so beautiful, so gorgeous, that it was like kintsugi being done right in front of our eyes, it still makes me cry to think of his version of that song, ALL THE GENTLENESS AND HOPE IN THIS EMO BAND THIS YEAR.

Patrick heard Pete struggling and turned to him to play “Bob Dylan” directly at him until he found his place, BECAUSE THAT WAS JUST HOW THIS YEAR WENT.

Meanwhile Patrick went stumbling over unfamiliar lyrics and Pete careened across the stage to get to him to rescue him, BECAUSE, AGAIN, THIS IS THEM IN 2023.

I went to a concert personally and they played me “Sweet Caroline” and “I’m Shipping Up to Boston” so THAT ALSO HAPPENED THIS YEAR AND IT WAS AMAZING AND PERFECT.

Patrick suggested they play “Pavlove.” ??? Hang on, read that again. Patrick. Suggested. They. Play. “Pavlove.” And then they. Played it. Like, yup, ALSO THAT HAPPENED.

Patrick said, quick and sincere in an unplanned aside, that he’s pretty sure this is the best tour they’ve ever done, EVERYONE WAS SO IN LOVE ALL YEAR.

Patrick suddenly decided to grow his hair long?????? Still don’t even know what that was all about, he was just like, 2023, FOLKS!!!

They played a Halloween show in the most Them costumes ever chosen BECAUSE WHY NOT?????

Then to close the year out Patrick dragged out “Yule Shoot Your Eye Out” ????? Like, again, WHY NOT???????

AND THEN “PAVLOVE” SHOWED UP ON STREAMING SERVICES, BECAUSE WHY NOT??????

#fall out boy #fob #sorry there are no links #i was being very lazy

[freak-accident419]

Ya Ne Prava

Derek Danforth x GN!Reader

Summary: Because everyone seemed to fail him, Derek Danforth decided to call you up to kill Mr. Clay. You are an assassin that had an intimate, yet complicated relationship with Derek in the past, sharing a bittersweet history together. You realize that you’re going against a Beekeeper, and felt obligated to spend one last night with your old lover, as this mission doesn’t guarantee your survival. But you’d do anything for him—even if it meant dying for him.

WC: 4.4k

Content: 18+ smut, MDNI, gender neutral reader, unspecified genitals for reader (vague penetration), more plot than porn tbh, cursing, smoking, drinking, mentions of death, slight spoilers for The Beekeeper but nothing too drastic

(A/n: title translates to “I was wrong”/“I messed up”, in which I grabbed that lyric from the Russian song “My Marmalade” by Katya Lel !! Thank you guys for showing me so much support lately. I hope you guys enjoy this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it :) love you all !!)

-

You raised your glass to your lips, letting the rich, smooth liquid of scotch graze your tongue and go down your throat seamlessly after your brief sip.

You look at the man behind the office desk in front of you. It wasn’t like you haven’t seen him in a ridiculously long time, probably just for a couple of months to a year, more or less. But you never got tired of looking at him when you could. He was an incorrigible asshole, but his beautiful, hazel eyes would convey otherwise. He was an immoral, selfish dick, but the way his lips formed into a smile could convince anybody with basic cognition that he was an angel.

The silence was awkward, indubitably because of the complicated past you shared, but the eye contact really wasn’t—if anything, it was subtly bittersweet. And instead of being at his office inside Danforth Enterprises, you were at his office inside his mansion, which already revealed the secrecy and urgency of his request: he wanted you to kill for him again.

“Nobody has a name for this guy, no leads, no info, no nothing, he is off the fucking grid,” he explained to you sternly. “I was gonna make fuckin’… Wallace fix shit up, but his incompetent fucking men keep failing me, so—”

“You’re taking manners into your own hands and your last resort was hiring me? After, like, months of radio silence from me?”

He perked up at your words, then nodded, taking a lazy sip of his drink. “Precisely.”

“Okay,” you nodded accordingly. It was second nature, instantly agreeing to something this morbid, but you were an assassin after all, and Derek had hired you quite frequently in the past to take care of things. It was actually how you two initially met and eventually became intimate through—for a while, at least. “What’re you offering?” You ask, taking a cigarette out from one small box in your pocket.

“One million,” he answered briefly. However, you scoffed in disbelief, which almost immediately gained a perplexed reaction from him. “What?”

“Let’s go over the facts,” you begin, leisurely crossing your legs by resting your ankle onto your other knee. “This guy burned down your thirty million dollar call center. He could’ve definitely been related to the goddamn gas station explosion, killed all the guys you sent, and you were the last to hear from Garnett before he died at the hands of this man.” You took out your lighter and placed the cigarette in your mouth. “This guy is fucking intense. He is out for blood, your blood, Derek. It looks like he’s going to kill anyone who gets in his way, and if that’s gonna be me, I expect a higher fucking payment.” Your voice was slightly raised at the end of your sentence as you lit your cigarette, taking a long drag.

Derek sighed as he realized that you had a point. You always did, actually, in fact, he nearly always obeyed you. It was like you were the only person who could control that firecracker of a man. “Fuck… Fucking fine. Three million.”

You give a smug smile, blowing out the smoke from your drag and letting your cigarette rest between your fingers once you moved it out of your mouth. “See how easy that was?” You tease cheekily, seeing his brows knit in impatience and exasperation. You pursed your lips before asking, “What’s this guy’s deal anyway? Like, what do you know about him so far?”

Derek huffed with agitation. “Fuck, I don’t know, he… He just fucks around with all my shit, apparently he’s a-a fuckin’ beekeeper, and—”

“Wait, what?” Your eyes widen, heart practically racing as you heard those words come out of his mouth. Was it purely coincidental, or…

“What?” He asked as he noticed how exceedingly pale your face went. You never had this expression on your face, at least not in front of him. You were always seen by him as perpetually unafraid, but in this very moment, you seemed to be unusually apprehensive. “Fuck, Y/n, what is it?”

“Did you say he was a beekeeper?” You inquired silently, fidgeting with your fingers.

“Yeah, that’s the only fucking thing we know about him. Why?” Derek seemed to appear gruff and utterly pissed on the outside, but internally and authentically, he was fundamentally solicitous, especially for you. Why were you, if anything, afraid?

“Yeah, that can’t be a fucking coincidence,” you mumble thoughtfully to yourself as you take an anxious drag from your cigarette. “The Beekeepers is some kind of secret organization, completely off the goddamn grid that consists of professionally trained assassins. And let me tell you, Danforth, these guys are hard-fucking-core. You thought I was terrible? These guys are fucking worse,” you stress, waving your cigarette around as the trail of smoke followed your hand gestures. “If this guy is a part of them, then holy shit, the both of us are dead.”

Derek processes your words, however only growing antsy and disgruntled. “So what? You can handle another fucking cocksucker. I know you, your skills are off the charts.”

“Hey, I know myself more than anybody does, including you. And I know that I have a very advanced skillset, but maybe not as advanced as fucking Beekeepers. Look, Danforth, I will definitely put up a fight, but this man could definitely—”

“Y/n, you’re the best fucking assassin I fucking know, just—just do the fucking job,” he demanded relentlessly, displeased with your insistent, yet assertively spoken doubt.

You glared at him with agitation for a few seconds, before speaking again.

“Five million,” you state bluntly.

“What?”

“Five fucking million, Danforth. If you want me to kill this man, let alone a fucking beekeeper, I expect higher pay,” you argue tactfully.

You sense a sort of irked frustration in him, his face contorted, teeth gritting behind his closed lips, and dark eyes, in which you’ve seen on several previous occasions.

“Goddamnit, Y/n, he’s just another fucking guy! Just, fuck, snipe him if you have to, or whatever,” he insisted tiredly. “You’re the best killer I know. This guy doesn’t have shit on you, just—”

“Danforth, I’m not a hundred percent sure that I’ll come back from this mission alive, so five million or no deal!” You exclaimed, trying to emphasize how dangerous this job would be.

“Jesus! Fuck! Fine!” he conceded aggressively, leaning back in his chair. “Five million it is,” he grumbled.

You feel your eyes soften and your eyebrows relax pleasantly the moment you heard those words. You grinned mischievously, taking another drag from your cigarette. “Pleasure doing business with you.” Derek rolled his eyes in response, displeased by the amount of money he was going to give you just to kill one guy.

“Sure, whatever,” he replies lazily. “I trust you, so whoever—”

You scoffed amusedly, interrupting him. “You shouldn’t,” you say.

“What?” He was extremely baffled as he heard your response.

“You shouldn’t trust me,” you repeat.

“Umm, okay, and why-why the fuck not?” Derek was frustratingly oblivious, too ignorant to comprehend the contentious situation between you two that resulted in a long period of desolated avoidance.

“You are aware that I have tried to kill you, yes?”

A piercing silence.

It was true, unfortunately. Back when you were constantly doing jobs for Derek, an anonymous hire suddenly offered more than $80 million for you to assassinate him. Back then, you were marginally involved with Derek in an intimate setting. You worked for him as his executioner, and soon enough, your charm led to you sleeping together on several occasions and exchanging some sweet kisses and words, alongside the establishment of affectionate pet names. What hurt the most about it was that it was all authentic, his feelings and yours. However, you were weak and selfish and overall blinded with greed. Eighty million was drastically more than any amount you were ever hired with. So you took up the offer to assassinate President Jessica Danforth’s young, foolish son.

You were going to pull the trigger once your eyes locked on the target, but the second you did, you missed, causing severe lockdowns and the anticipated presence of the secret service. And when it all died down, Derek caught you with his own eyes as you attempted to escape, yet shockingly, he let you go. And you barely kept in contact ever again—until now.

“It—It doesn’t matter, Y/n, okay, I don’t see you pointing a gun at my head anymore, so it’s all in the past, alright?” He raised his glass to his lips, drinking the remaining bourbon (he preferred it more than scotch).

“Wh—? Okay, why the fuck are you so calm about it? I tried to kill you, don’t you understand that?” You stressed, continuing to frustratingly watch his nonchalant reaction to you.

He set his glass back down on the table, not even bothering to put it on the actual coaster, which was literally just about an inch away. “It’s because I know you, Y/n. I know that you’re the best fucking assassin I’ve ever hired and you never miss a shot. You’re, like, completely flawless at what you do. And because you’re that perfect at it, it amuses me that you missed when you had such a clear shot at me.” You glared at him as he spoke, plainly vexed.

“You were fucking afraid,” he continued, making you huff in disbelief. “You didn’t wanna kill me. Sure, eighty million seemed promising, but it didn’t live up to the sex and passionate admiration we had for each other. I trust you because I know now that if you were offered all the diamonds and golds in the entire fucking world, you still wouldn’t kill me for any of it.”

You hated how much this was true. You couldn’t kill him if you had the chance. Which was what mainly pissed you off, because he had to be the most annoying, arrogant, egotistical bastard you knew. And yet, you had a soft spot for him. And he had a soft spot for you. You were way too fond of him.

You sigh afterwards, knowing that he was completely right, whether you’d like it or not. “Well… Okay, do you trust me when I say that there is no guarantee that I’m coming back alive—”

“Goddamnit, Y/n, enough about this!” Derek interjected. “I trust that you’ll get the job done—”

“Danforth, I—”

“You know my name,” he snarled. “Use it.”

You groan impatiently, unabashed. “Okay, Derek, well as I said, The Beekeepers is a very elite organization. There is a reason why this guy was able to take down all your men at UDG—”

“It’s because they were fucking incompetent! You, howev—”

“Holy shit, Derek, just shut up for once!” You blurt. “If I don’t make it out alive, then what are you gonna do? Hm?”

“You’re… Y/n, you are going to make it out alive,” he grumbled, tired of your claims.

“Derek, I swear to fucking god—”

“If he fucking kills you, I’ll make sure to rain fucking hell on that bastard and the whole fucking Beekeeper organization itself. Okay?”

And it was clear that he was still so very fond of you.

You gave a slight chuckle, putting out your cigarette on a nearby ashtray. Your hands clasped together in front of you on the surface of the wooden desk, which was also presented in front of him. And so suddenly, Derek placed his hands over yours, lightly grazing the back of your hands and fingers with his fingertips and palms. It was comforting, to say the least, as well as nostalgic.

“I missed you,” you muttered softly, watching the two of your hands fidget with each other, soft, warm skin moving against coarse, cold skin.

“I’ve missed you too,” he mumbled, watching your hands on the table until he moved his eyes up to yours.

“You can deny it all you want, Derek, but I’m not going to get out of this alive or untouched,” you say in the silence of the room.

“I don’t want to believe that,” he simply replied, not wanting to accept the clear reality.

“Well, when you see my obituary in the papers, you’re gonna have to,” you articulate softly as his thumb rubs against yours.

He scoffs in disbelief. “As I said, you’re the best assassin I know. You can easily take out this stupid fucking asshole.” You nod modestly. “I’m serious!”

“Derek, are you trying to flatter me?” You raise an eyebrow with a light chuckle, watching his face gradually turn rosy.

“No, I’m—I’m just pointing out the fuckin’ facts,” he claimed.

“Well… Just in case this is going to be our last night together—”

“It’s not.”

“Well, hypothetically, if—”

“It’s not.”

“Derek!” You exclaim, laughing afterwards. “Just… All I want is for us to spend one night together, as if it’s our last. C’mon, Derek… Let me take care of you.”

It took a short while for him to process your proposal, until he gently held onto your hands to bring them to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “Okay. Fine,” he answered indifferently. However, you knew that he had a soft spot for you.

***

His gentle, soft lips moved with yours as his rough hands gripped your sides tenderly. It’s been months since you’ve been like this with him, extremely vulnerable with each other physically, ever since your attempt to assassinate him caused mere estrangement. Your back was against the cushiony mattress, your hands cupping his face as your tongue began to clash with his, nearly gracefully as the familiarity of his taste burdened your mouth. The nostalgia creeped behind your mind until it penetrated your brain, making you remember all the ways he used to touch you and pleasure you. But in this very moment, he and you were taking your time with each other. To feel the warm, soft skin against fingertips and fingernails that one another missed.

“You should’ve stopped this when I told you to,” you nearly whispered after you pulled away from his lips, while your eyes explored his hazel irises once again.

He seemed to have no care, or at least no reaction, tucking his head down to nip at your sensitive neck, leaving soft kisses along your throat. “My mom probably wouldn’t have won the presidential election without it,” he remarked, lips trailing up from your collarbone to your jaw.

You scoff silently, moving your hands behind his head to tangle his bleached curls in your fingers. “I’m sure she had it all under control. She’s a remarkable woman,” you reply, feeling his lips against yours again, feeling him tug on your bottom lip right before pulling away again.

“Sure, yes, but… you’ve seen the shitty stats… Without the money we earned, she probably wouldn’t be sitting cozy in the damn White House.” Derek was very persistent about his role and reasons for the continuous phishing scam.

“Well… It doesn’t even matter,” you sigh dismally. “You didn’t stop when I warned you, and now look, you’ve got a whole fucking Beekeeper after you.” Your voice was heavy in disappointment and shame. You couldn’t believe that your old lover would possibly meet his demise if you aren’t proficient enough in your mission.

“Y/n. C’mon. We’ve got it all under control,” he affirmed, pressing some reassuring kisses all over your face. “You just have to kill this one dickhead, and things will go back to the way they were.”

Your eyes meet again, feeling your heart race for a split second as you felt utterly captivated by his beauty and concealed love for you. “I should’ve killed you when I had the chance,” you lamented under your breath.

The way his eyes gazed into yours had communicated something you never thought he would ever have: regret. “I know,” he mumbles as you kiss again, a more passionate and accelerated movement that you sensed was becoming intense.

He took off his blazer, throwing it somewhere down on the floor as you discard your jacket. The two of you could barely separate from each other for too long, so you would desperately kiss each time a new article of clothing is removed. You lift off your shirt and Derek goes down on you again to kiss at your neck once more, leaving hickeys on your collarbone and tracing his lips down to your chest. He looks up at you with affection, kissing your lips once again until he would remove his own shirt.

He cradled your face, crashing his lips onto your passionately, instantly moving his tongue with yours through parted lips. “Everything that we had…” you began in a small whisper between ardent kisses. “Was it all real? Or was it just a way for us to…. to blow off steam? To feel something?”

“No, no, no,” he breathed as you could feel his hand sensibly caress your bare sides. “You’re fucking everything to me.”

Essentially, you were terrified. You knew that eventually, you two were going to lose each other. That’s why you were taking time with this, making sure to not take even a millisecond for granted. And deep down, Derek knew that you were right and that there was no certain guarantee that you could kill the Beekeeper. So he cherished this moment with you. Because in the end, he really loves you.

It was never said out loud, but the two of you loved each other immensely. After years of knowing each other, working together, the ‘one-night-stands’ with ‘no strings attached,’ you two fell for each other faster than the bodies that you shot for him. You were practically the only person he could be stable and decent around. It was always seen through abruptly softened eyes at even the smallest mention of your name.

Once you two were completely naked, your bare bodies attached to each other throughout each deep kiss. His hands graciously moved up and down the skin of your waist as your fingers lost itself in his soft hair, bodies radiating warmth against the other.

His eyes locked with yours, and there was some kind of poignant, desperation in them, looking at you as if you were going to disappear the moment he looked away. “Promise me you’ll come back from this mission alive,” he commanded softly in the cold silence of the room.

“I’ve told you already, Derek,” you sigh wistfully. “He’s a few more steps ahead of me.”

There was something almost so pathetic and contradictory about his distraught mannerisms. “Then I give you full permission to abort,” he proposed, “when things get too risky. If you seriously think you’re going to get killed, then forget about the entire fucking mission, forget about me, okay?”

“You know I can’t do that.” You stroke his hair tenderly between your fingertips, pushing his curls away from disorder. “It’s either go with the mission or not at all. There’s no point in getting myself into deep shit just to abort.”

The man sighed as he knew you were right, again. But also… “I don’t care,” he blurts. “I don’t fucking care. You can go as far as you’d like with him, but when shit hits the fan, I need you to at least beg for mercy, get on your fucking knees if you have to. I need you to get out of the situation immediately, Y/n, okay? I can’t lose you. Shit, I can’t fucking lose you, okay, not again.”

Your heart sank.

He really did care for you.

“Do you love me?” You ask quietly.

The hesitation in his response would give the impression that he had to think about your question, but the truth was that he always knew—he always knew the answer. He loved you, indisputably.

“Yes,” he answered silently. Then, with more confidence, “I love you. I love you so much that I cannot afford to lose you. I can’t fucking lose you. I just got you back, you can’t leave me again.”

A small smile appeared at the corner of your lips. “I’m still here, my marmalade,” he shivered pleasantly at your use of your old, affectionate nickname for him. “And I love you too. All of me is here for you. That’s the point of all this.”

After a shared, enamored look, his lips attached to yours, and the two of you couldn’t help but whimper as you felt the aching head of his cock begin to enter you, already stretching you with his size. It wasn’t until his length was pushed fully inside you, making your breath hitch as the warm, complete feeling had sparked bittersweet memories of the two of you doing this together in the past. Most of the times they were faster-paced and rougher. But this? It was all foreignly vanilla to you; this was straight-up making love at its fibrous roots.

Your face was flushed, feeling tingly as he slowly began to move in and out, his hands hooked under your shoulders in a grip as you held his forearms, locking his legs down with your own. He kissed your lips softly, then down to your neck as his thrusts slowly increased, putting all his weight on you as your chests were pressed against each other.

The two of you let out soft moans once every overlapping feeling intensified, breath quickening every snap of Derek’s hips. You moved your hand to the back of his head, tangling his hair in your fingers again as you deepened the kiss, the two of you only parting to breathe.

“Fuck,” he rasped, sinking into you deeper. Your bodies were so close together, nearly merging as you felt each passionate thrust filling you up. “You feel as good as I remembered.” You let his head be buried into your neck as you felt him gently nip the skin, your fingers still wrapped in his curls and you let your eyes rest, completely indulging in the pleasure he offered. “You were right,” Derek breathed softly. “You should’ve killed me when you had the chance.”

You raise an eyebrow at his remark. “Yeah? And why’s that?”

“Because I don’t even want you to do this job anymore. If I’m gonna die because I’ll end up not hiring you, then so be it,” Derek husked, continuing to move inside you, making your fleshy walls flutter in exhilaration. “At this point, I’d rather have me die than you.”

You stutter out a quiet moan as you feel his movements quicken. “Damn. The sex is that good?” You joked, letting out a breathy chuckle.

He rolled his eyes playfully and snickered lowly. “Yes, the sex is that good,” he reciprocated, mumbling in your lips as he thrusted artfully.

It was like he was no longer selfish with it anymore. Sure, the sex you had in the past with him had equally distributed pleasure, but you would find him focusing on his own release sometimes. However, in this very moment, you could tell that he moved generously and patiently, fucking you carefully—‘fucking,’ however, seemed like a more aggressive approach to describe what was happening, which was plainly the opposite of everything entirely; this was pure lovemaking.

You felt yourself tighten around him as he increases his pace, lips no longer focused on kissing you, but driving the two of you to your release. His cock pushed faster and deeper, in and out, his throat withdrawing stuttered, low grunts and loud, quick breaths. You felt a knot in your stomach, your gut stirring in anticipation. “F-fuck,” he murmured as you felt his hot breath on the side of your face. “Y/n, I’m close.”

Your desperate panting became louder as your legs locked down on his even tighter, threatening to bend further. He lifts his head back up to make eye contact with you, seeing the other’s heated faces and loving gaze. “M-me too, baby.”

He kissed your lips deeply once again, thrusting into you at a rhythm that began to falter, quickening with every soft moan you crooned, repeatedly muttering his name with yearn.

Your cries had crescendoed, hearing desperate, higher-pitched grunts escaping Derek’s pretty mouth, as your bodies stayed warm against each other, building sweat from the intensity’s heat. The sound of skin slapping against skin amplified, wet, squelching noises emitting from each fast action of slipping in and out. You felt an overwhelming feeling of pleasure, feeling yourself come closer to your orgasm as your thighs begin to twitch and body begin to ache. It’s almost like you can’t breathe, the way his length fills you up perfectly and caresses your walls sensually.

“D-Derek, I—” Your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head, but you shut them once you feel your lips attached to his. “I’m—fuck—I’m cumming!” You announce, feeling the entirety of your body tense up, already feeling the sensitivity you would feel post-orgasm.

“Hold on, baby, just wait a little longer for me, that’s good, that’s it, fuck,” he breathed frantically, nearly praising your patience and obedience. Derek’s moans becomes louder, practically in unison with yours, and he moaned out your name passionately once the two of you finally came together. Your voice cracks as you call him, hips jolting as you release, feeling yourself become fragile once you clench around him more intensely, back nearly arching in ecstasy. With one last slam of his hips, he came deeply inside you, spilling his warm cum through enraptured and euphoric spurts, making yourself feel entirely filled as his hips remained against yours, cock still utterly inside of you.

The two of you caught your breaths, just to kiss each other again, your arms wrapping tightly around his neck. Because once all the euphoria slowly died down, you remembered the reality of everything: you or him were going to die at the hands of a compulsive vigilante, and not everything you had together was going to last forever.

His head was buried in your neck, placing lazy pecks on it as the two of you held each other comfortably and safely.

“I just got you back,” he muttered. You were the only person that Derek was the most vulnerable around. “I don’t want to lose you again. Please be careful.”

“You know me,” you reassure softly, disregarding everything you had warned him about. You knew you couldn’t stand a chance against this man. But you’d do it anyway, for Derek. “I’ve killed over fifty men throughout my entire job. I’ve got this.”

Suddenly, he remembered everything you said about the Beekeeper, and how you even doubted yourself and your abilities. “But, you said—”

“Forget what I said,” you interrupt. “I’ve got a real drive to kill him, okay, and that’s you. As long as I have you in my head, he doesn’t stand a chance.” You hated lying to him. But at this point, it wasn’t even about the five million dollars or him hiring you at that; it was about protecting him.

“Are you sure? Because you were very persistent—”

You shut him up with a sweet, deep kiss. “Don’t you worry about it, my marmalade. I’ll take care of it.” You lied straight through your tender, flushed lips that he kissed back.

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

#derek danforth #derek danforth x gn!reader #derek danforth x you #derek danforth x reader #the beekeeper #the beekeeper fanfic #the beekeeper movie #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson x gn!reader #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson x you #josh hutcherson smut #mike schmidt x reader #clapton davis x reader #josh futturman x reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader

[goginaporter]

lyrical analysis of love you forever

or, breaking down ricky's love (confession) for gina

we're a little under three months out from the series finale of high school musical: the musical: the series. I've spent those months freaking out over rina and appreciating the beautiful arc they got in s4 that closed out their story over the course of the series. there are a million special moments that rina has in s4 (I mean, a rain kiss? can I have this dance? a duet together about their commitment to each other despite uncertainty? we really got it all) but one definitely stands out among the rest. love you forever is ricky's declaration of love for gina that he sings to her at her press conference for her new movie that, as far as he knows, is about to send her across the world. this post is gonna be a line by line analysis of the lyrics, as well as talking about everything that brought them to that moment and that made it special. enjoy <33

I've been wishing on a falling star for too long

this line opens the song and is such a beautiful callback to when there was me and you, the song ricky all but serenades gina with in 1.06 (the lines it references: I thought you were my fairy tale / A dream when I'm not sleeping / A wish upon a star / That's coming true). wtwmay is a song that gabriella sings after troy's betrayal in hsm and when ricky sings this line, to me, it represents a callback to his past relationship with nini. he was holding on to nini and that relationship too tight, wishing on a falling star. as gabriella says, wishes on stars just "don't come true" and for ricky, this relationship ultimately ended in failure. however, as much as this line signifies the crash and burn nature of that relationship, it's also a reference to the start of his relationship with gina in that bunker room as he strummed on a guitar, in a similar fashion to love you forever, to these lyrics.

I've been running, I don't know what from

this line references the conversation that ricky had with ej in 4.05 when ej forces ricky to reckon with the fact that he runs away from those he loves when faced with hard realities and that this tendency hurts both those around him, but also hurts him. it's incredibly full circle when you pair this with the fact that ricky is singing the song on the guitar ej gave him after they sang speak out, where ej tells him that "you'll probably get more use outta this than me" (4.05). i think it's really cool that this line also references gina's similar character flaw of running when things get hard, which she also sings about in second chance (Maybe I'm safer when I'm on the run / No time to open up my heart / Maybe I'll hide behind my walls again / Instead of tearing them apart) (also important to note that second chance is non-digetic and ricky has never heard gina sing these lyrics). so fascinating that ricky and gina have the same habit of running, with ricky running back to things that are familiar and gina pushing forward to leave things in the past before they can hurt her.

But you and I've become a sacred kinda home

this is one of my favorite lines of the song, especially because this theme of finding a home is such a critical cornerstone for both ricky and gina's arcs throughout the show. ricky's home life in s1 turns on its head when he discovers that his parents are separating. pairing this with his breakup with nini nearly sends him into a spiral, but he finds a new home of sorts in the theater program, telling gina "it's just nice to have somewhere to go after school every day, y'know" (1.05), which she herself resonates with, affirming his feelings.

of course, at the beginning of s2, we find out that ricky and his dad are moving to an apartment after his mom moves out. this drastic shift, the loss of his childhood home, is again disorienting, and again paired with changes with nini, what with her moving to denver. in 2.02, he tells nini that she is his home, which is really interesting, placing that kind of pressure on her. but what's even more interesting is that he knows he's moving, knows from the beginning of 2.01, and yet nini does not find out about his new home until 2.03 on valentine's day, months later. this is juxtaposed to gina showing up to his apartment that same episode. it's especially special that ricky is placed in the same situation that gina typically faces, the unpacking and getting accustomed to a new space. it is those undertones that serve as the undercurrent for their conversation. the apartment is in disarray when gina arrives, and remains that way for much of the season. gina, however, is endeared by the messy environment of the apartment and jokes along with ricky to put him at ease. by the time we return to it in s4, it's (naturally) much more lived in, with clothes strewn about, pictures of gina, and aptly placed posters lining the wall of ricky's room.

as I mentioned earlier, ricky calls nini his home in s2. this line says that he and gina together have become a home of sorts for each other. singing this to gina is important for ricky, but it also speaks to the unpredictable nature of gina's childhood, where she moved from city to city, never staying in one place for more than a few months, which she tells ricky in 1.05. by the end of s1, we think that she has to move again, something that's harder for her now that she's made connections with the wildcats, namely with ricky. as we see in the flashback scene in 2.06, she tells ricky that she wouldn't quit on them if not for her move, that they would essentially remain close if she weren't leaving salt lake. of course, she doesn't leave and instead moves in with ashlyn. it's her first taste of stability that she can really remember, but as she tells carlos in 2.04, she feels out of place living in a house she doesn't own and with a family that isn't hers. these feelings culminate in gina wanting to leave, a subplot we see primarily in 2.05 and 2.06. after revealing to ashlyn what she said to ricky opening night of hsm, ashlyn sings home from beauty and the beast to gina, telling her that she has a home with ashlyn, not just physically, but within their friendship. there is so much symbolism in that one scene that we don't have time to get into but this moment definitely shifts gina's perception of what a home can look like. in s3, we learn that her mom is moving back to salt lake city where she'll be staying long-term to allow gina to complete her time at east high. in fact, it's in this very house that we get our first scene of rina in s4, with ricky sneaking into her window. one's room is a reflection of oneself, and ricky and gina are all over each other's rooms, both literally and figuratively, throughout the season. combining this with the connection between the two that only strengthens over the course of the season, it comes as no surprise that ricky sees his and gina's relationship as a sacred home.

I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love and I know it / No net, no fear, right here in this moment

my twitter account was littered with theories and thoughts and hopes for ricky's love confession to gina, but whether it was public or private, planned or spontaneous, the one thing that I knew I wanted was for ricky to say that he is in love with gina. so on august 9th when ricky got to the chorus of love you forever, tears started pooling in my eyes because the confession, which was already literally perfect, delivered my biggest wish. one of my favorite aspects of the song is how much it reflects their journey because these are all the words that ricky would tell gina in some big speech, evidenced by him practicing all throughout 4.07. but when it comes down to it, after references to moments between them and beautiful metaphors, it builds to him telling gina not only does he love her, but that he's in love with her. there's no doubt in his mind of this fact. the sky is blue, the sun shines, and ricky bowen loves gina porter. so much of ricky's love for nini was tied to fear, especially a fear of change. that his love for gina transcends fear, that he is confident in what he tells her both shows his growth in romantic relationships but also in how much gina has redefined what it means to love someone for him.

I've never been more sure of what I got, yeah / Cause this is so much more than puppy love, so

continuing with the theme of confidence, ricky tells gina that he's never been more sure of what he's got in their relationship. I know I'm bringing rini up a lot but that relationship is a perfect frame of reference for how much ricky has changed when it comes to love. both his singing of I think I kinda you know in 1.01 and his love confession to nini in 1.10, while genuine, are riddled with stuttering and uncertainty ("I think", "I don't know", etc.). when you compare the ricky of 1.01 and the ricky of 4.08 and how he attempts to use song to profess his love, the differences are stark, and that's the point. as he all but said in 3.08, everything he's known about love has been changed by gina and that is reflected in love you forever. I love the puppy love nod and think it's narratively important for so many reasons. for one, it's a reference to their first date, as well as to gina's childhood. in that vein, it seems to mirror what gina tells ricky in 4.02, that mack was a crush of her childhood. calling what they have "more than puppy love" also nods to their growth, not just over the course of the series, but even throughout the season. from dealing with scrutiny in the fallout of the documentary to gina's increasingly busy schedule to their temporary pause to gina nearly moving across the world, they've been faced with many problems, and while they didn't handle all of them perfectly, they handled them together and came out that much stronger.

I'll say it first, no matter what the cost / Here I am full heart, full stop / I love you

in 3.05, ricky talks to jet following the fallout of the real campers of shallow lake drama. he asks jet what he's running from and tells him that sometimes when feelings are hard to articulate, it helps to sing instead. with love you forever, we see ricky taking his own advice. I love that ricky is insistent that he tells gina "I love you" first, both because he wants to rectify mistakes from his last relationship, but also because gina says, in a talking head, that she doesn't want to be the first to say "I love you," (4.06) further cementing the connection that rina has. it also affirms that there is no doubt in either of their minds that they love each other and want to say it to each other. it's also important to note that ricky understands the risk of singing this song at this point in time. for all he knows, gina is about to board a plane that will be taking her to the other side of the world for six months. however, he sings this song, affirms his love for her, no matter the cost, because he just wants her to know. he loves her in salt lake, he loves her in new zealand, and he loves her forever. ricky sings that he is there with a full heart, full stop I love you. in an interview after s3's finale, tim federle, the showrunner, states that while nini will always have a small part of ricky's heart, gina has a way of making hearts race. this line, to me, symbolizes the notion that gina is his heart, that his love for her encompasses it. there's a beautiful analysis of ricky being gina's heart canonically that I think helps tie all of this together, establishing that gina is ricky's heart, just like he is hers.

of course, I would be remiss to not talk about the full stop of it all. as we see in a flashback in 4.06, ricky opens up to gina in their first meeting about how he struggled saying I love you to nini, his ex. after hearing this, gina presents him with a possibility you can tell he's never considered: "maybe you just don't love her, full stop." ricky stutters in response, but doesn't fully negate gina's statement, in fact telling her that he's "kinda" planning on telling nini through song later that night outside her window (ironic that this plan doesn't pan out for him twice in the show, both here and in 2.03). that he brings up this notion of full stop, where there's no room for doubt, in his confession for gina further proves how deep and real and true their love is for each other. super small thing before I move on but I love how "I love you" gets its own special moment of pause in the song to fully communicate the gravity of such a statement.

I never knew that I could feel so sure and so strong /How can three old words feel so brand new?

Again, this idea of being sure comes up again in this second verse/buildup to the chorus. ricky has done the love confession before. he's been in love before. but again, with gina, it's different. it's deeper, more strong, more secure. and so when he says these words, in a situation that mirrors his audition for hsm, of course it feels different. in that auditon, he was singing nini's words back to her. love you forever, in contrast, is all ricky. those three words do feel new because now he's singing them to gina and for gina, where previously he sang them for himself. also a really cool note about the parallels between ricky's audition and love you forever is that tim federle released the initial script for love you forever, and one of the descriptions writes that ricky "launches into the audition of a lifetime." this song, this confession, is the start of his forever with gina. of course these words feel new.

Mm, so rare, so real right here in this moment / And I'm starin' at the only thing I want, so

I tear up hearing ricky say that the love that he has for gina is both rare and real. both ricky and gina, at different points throughout the show, cast doubt on love. ricky says in a talking head in 1.01 that love is dead (fun fact: ricky is wearing the same denim jacket from that talking head during love you forever teehee). gina, in the 4.06 flashback, calls love lame. their faith in love ebbs and flows throughout the show, but once they are together, there's no question. it's why ricky encourages the seblos reconciliation in 4.06 or why gina tells jet to confess his feelings for kourtney in 4.08. if they've found this beautiful love in each other, where they got a second chance on love in every sense of the words, why wouldn't they want that for everyone else, for the people that they love?

the second half of this lyric, of ricky "staring at the only thing he wants," is my absolute favorite line of love you forever. ricky's eyes are naturally drawn to gina in nearly every episode of the show, whether she's looking at him or not, whether they're speaking or not. even before he recognized those feelings in himself, we could see it because she was always the apple of his eye. this rings especially true during love you forever, where ricky does not take his eyes off of gina the entire song, except when miss jenn turns the lights on. gina is the center of his universe and who he has been drawn to since she entered his life. there was a tweet after s4 aired that stated that ricky looks at gina as though he's falling deeper in love with her every time and this line captures that.

I wanna finish what we started in the stairwell where we met

the bridge opens with this line and it's so fitting. to suggest that committing to loving each other forever is finishing what they started when they had that first conversation in the stairwell is so insane and will always make me spiral when I think about it. this line all but confirms that ricky and gina began to fall for each other in that moment. that their conversation in the stairwell is what catalyzed their respective character arcs also all but confirms that they're soulmates, that there was an invisible string that connected them, inexplicably tying their fates together forever.

I wanna live like I have never even heard the word regret

both ricky and gina have instances that they look back on and wish they had done things differently. gina says so explicitly in 2.05 when speaking to kourtney. she alludes to her goodbye to ricky after hsm's opening night, stating that it was something she wishes she could take back. in 3.06, ricky tells jet that he wishes that he didn't let color war gina slip through his fingers, suggesting that he would've done things differently if he were more cognizant of his feelings for her. ricky never wants to feel like that again, that he's missed his chance with gina due to fear. he wholeheartedly embraces his love for her because he knows what it was like to live without it and doesn't want to live in a world where gina isn't his reality.

I wanna scream what's in my heart and I won't ever take it back

ricky and ej's duet in 4.05 is about speaking your truth and speaking even when it's hard. the song even has a line about "screaming out." where in speak out, screaming out solicits no sound, ricky singing this line in love you forever is him being able to vocalize the feelings in his heart. he also commits to never taking these words back. his feelings for gina are eternal and everlasting. this is important for gina to hear because words have always been unreliable to her. people that she cares about, whether her mom or jamie or even e.j., have made verbal commitments to her at one point or another, and each one of them has later reneged on that commitment, whether intentionally or not. ricky can say these words, can say "I love you" to gina, because he's been saying it through his actions the entire show. gina doesn't always trust words, but she trusts actions. ricky has more than proven his love for her, and it's this continued declaration through his works that allows these words to ring true for her.

'Cause I love you feels a lot like high school and forever after that

I made this observation a couple weeks ago but this line is so fascinating. when the season first dropped and I heard the line, I was a tad confused. what does it mean for love to feel like high school? I was listening to the hsm3 soundtrack when it all clicked for me. in high school musical, the final song they sing in hsm3, the last line is "I want the rest of my life to feel just like a / High school musical" with this line, ricky is basically saying that he will love gina for the rest of his life. throwing in a hsm reference is also incredibly fitting given that they've just completed the first night of their run as troyella, further cementing their legacy as the troyella of the show. i love that, even when the bridge is repeated, ricky and gina are the only ones to sing these lines. when the bridge is sung for the third and final time, ricky and gina are now together on stage singing the words "I"m in love, I'm in love, I'm in love" to each other in between the lines of the bridge. the song closes with ricky singing "I love you feels a lot like high school" with gina singing "and forever after that." I love this ending for two reasons: ending the song with rina singing together re-emphasizes that they're in love, and in love together (for the first time), as tim mentions in an interview. I also love it because even as the wildcats join to sing the bridge near the end of the song, ricky and gina are the only people to sing the lines "I'm in love x3" and "I love you feels a lot like high school." even though their friends step in to sing some lines, ultimately, the song is a love song for gina, about gina, and that's why it ends with her. as tim (love how much I'm referencing him) mentioned in an interview, rina is the beating heart of the romance of the show, and their friends coming in to sing along to ricky's love song for gina fully solidifies this.

#hsmtmts #ricky x gina #gina porter #ricky bowen #rina #rina hsmtmts #gina x ricky #my loves #gina porter x ricky bowen #hsmtmts spoilers #love you forever #lyric analysis #high school musical the musical the series #wow this got so long #like crazy long #i wasn't expecting it to get this long #but i'm not surprised #given that i could talk about rina for hours #i hope at least one person reads this #cause it took forever LMAO

[topgun-imagines]

Clock Don’t Stop

Requested: no

Summary: After a big fight, you need some time away from Jake. A song that you are listening to reminds you of a very important lesson. Can you and Jake fix things? 

Word count: 1.7k 

Warnings: Angst. Mentions of fighting and arguments. 

Note: Loosely based off of the song ‘Clock Don’t Stop’ by Carrie Underwood. Part Two of ‘Try Losing One’.

Pairings: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x fem!reader 

The door slammed behind you as you ran for your car. You jumped in and started it faster than you ever had before, desperately needing to get away from the place in front of you. Slamming on the gas, you sped away from your house. Away from Jake. 

It was a stupid fight. Something that grew out of control soon after it started, neither one of you wanting to admit you were wrong. You had been out doing some wedding planning, what exactly you couldn’t remember at this point, when some blonde had wandered up to Jake. You had instantly become jealous. Why, you didn’t know. What you did know was that instead of talking it out with him like a mature adult, you chose to give your fiancé the cold shoulder. You were silent the rest of the way home. 

It had spiralled from there. One thing lead to another and suddenly you were screaming at Jake. The fact that he had acted as if he had no idea what you were talking about didn’t help any. If anything it made it worse, leading to you leaving him in your empty home. 

You needed to get out of there. Arguing back and forth with Jake was tiring, to say the least. Honestly, at that moment you didn’t care where you ended up as long as it was away from Jake. You loved him. Of course you did. It was just moments like this where it was damn near impossible to be in the same room as him. You two rarely fought and when you did it was never this bad. This was a special occasion. One that you hoped would never happen again. So long as the two of you patched things up. 

Slowing down, you parked your car. You had pulled into the Hard Deck parking lot. Hopping out, you headed into the rowdy bar silently. There were groups of people all around you, some with familiar faces and others with complete strangers. Bob, Rooster, and Phoenix were gathered around the pool table in the far corner but you paid them no mind as you walked up to Penny. Ordering a few beers, you tried to ignore the concerned look that the older woman was sending you. You paid for your drinks quickly and rushed out of the bar.

Once you were outside you began walking down the beach. The sun was just dipping below the horizon as you reached the water line. The beach was one of your favorite places to be. Something that you learned when you first moved to North Island was that there was a beautiful part of the beach behind the bar. Usually, it was just the aviators that occupied it and since you saw most of them inside, there was a good chance that you would be alone. 

Being in that part of the beach brought back a lot of memories. That was where your first date with Jake was. Somehow, he had convinced you to give him a shot. He had held your hand the entire walk there, laid out a blanket, and unpacked the picnic he had brought. That date led to three which led to seven which eventually led to Jake proposing. It was by far one of the best days of your life. 

You set the bottles in the sand and sat down on a log. Pulling out your phone, you pressed shuffle on the first playlist you came across. Nearly ten minutes later and you were at the beginning of the fourth song. It was a familiar song but hearing the lyrics now caused you to get lost in thought. “Red dress, spilled wine, caught in a stupid fight, He’s wrong, she’s right, no kiss goodnight.” That’s all that tonight was. A stupid fight with drastic consequences. 

Watching the sunset, you let the words fill your mind. “Ring-ring, telephone, Act like I’m not home, Can’t hear the tears cry on the other end of the line.” That made you wonder. Was Jake crying over this? Was he letting this fight affect him the same way you were? Here you were, sitting alone, crying over someone who might not even care. Tears gathered on your lashes. 

“And the minutes turn to hours, and they’re flying like a jet plane, And we’ll make it right tomorrow, but tomorrow not a sure thing.” A single tear rolled down your cheek. Instantly, your mind wandered to your first big fight with Jake.

It was years ago now, so long ago that you couldn’t even remember what it was about. It had escalated quickly, much like this one, eventually ending in you retreating into your shared bedroom and slamming the door in his face. The door stayed locked for the rest of the night. Jake had slept on the couch, or attempted to anyways. The both of you never slept well when you were apart. It was something that you learned during his first deployment while you were together. 

When you walked down the stairs at four in the morning you expected him to be sound asleep, not sitting at your kitchen table with a glass of water, staring blankly into the dark. You had approached him slowly, not bothering to turn on the lights when you spoke. “Ya know, there was this thing that my mum told me all the time,” He remind stoic. So still, in fact, that you wondered if he was just sleeping with his eyes open. You continued quietly. “She told me that you should never leave someone angry because there’s no promise of tomorrow,” You could hear the hitch in his breath. “Something could happen,” you murmured, sitting next to him. “You could go, and when you come back they're gone. They could be gone forever.” 

You spent that morning crying into each other's arms. It was no secret that Jake’s job was dangerous; you often found yourself thinking of the worst possible outcomes when he was in the air. That day, you made a promise to each other that whatever should happen, you would never leave the other angry. You would always make time to work it out. Tonight that promise was broken. 

The song continued. “Head’s scared, hearts broke, burned from a band of gold, rather just be alone, Burns, just a bad joke,” Your eyes wandered to the ring on your finger. You loved Jake. You were planning to spend the rest of your life with him. There was no way that you were willing to give that up over some stupid fight. More tears fell. 

“Red dress, spilled wine, caught in a stupid fight, I’m wrong, you’re right, Kiss me goodnight.” You had made up your mind. Standing, you brushed off the sand from your jeans and headed back to your car. You quickly pulled out of the parking lot and began the drive home, desperately hoping that Jake would be there when you got there. 

Minutes later you were pulling into your driveway. Jake’s truck was parked next to yours. Hopefully, that meant he was home. Hurriedly, you yanked open the door and walked inside. A pit of dread settled in your stomach when you found it dead silent. The living room was empty; there was no noise from the TV, and there was no music playing. It almost seemed as if no one lived there. You walked into the house, holding back your tears as best as possible. Surely he would be here. Right? 

In the kitchen, you found the lights turned off. A heavy breath escaped your lungs when your eyes landed on the kitchen table. Jake was sitting in front of you with a glass of water clasped between his shaking hands. There were tears leaking down his cheeks as he stared at the wall in front of him. “Ya know,” You called softly. “My mum had this saying. That you were never supposed to leave angry after a fight,” You pulled out the chair and sat next to him. Jake released a trembling breath as you continued. “Because you never know what could happen.” It was choked out through a sob, your tears falling steadily as you watched your fiancé. 

Jake let out a watery chuckle, eyes finally meeting yours. “I’m so sorry.” You whispered sniffling He just shook his head and opened his arms. You fell into them as you sobbed into his chest. You could feel the light kisses he was pressing into your hair causing you to sob harder. How could you have jeopardized this? 

You kept mumbling into his shirt, repeating how sorry you were and how much you loved him. Jake shushed you quietly. “It’s okay, baby. I’m sorry too,” His voice was soft and soothing. His southern drawl was thicker when he was emotional, something that you always loved. “I love you, baby. So much.” You could practically hear the tears in his voice. Pulling back, you were met with the sight of Jake wiping tears from his eyes. He was never one to cry, so seeing him this upset was something new. 

You glanced down and saw the tear stains on his shirt. Before you could start apologizing, Jake grabbed your cheeks with his hands gently and tilted it up to meet his eyes. They were bloodshot and still full of tears but he was staring at you with so much love and adoration that you lost all other thoughts. His thumbs began tracing your cheekbones softly, wiping away any tears. Jake smiled down at you, kissing you softly before pressing his lips to your forehead. 

“I love you.” His words were soft. They were spoken with such certainty that it brought a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. In that moment, you realized just how much Jake Seresin loved you. It was clear in his eyes, his words, the gentleness when he held you. His words were a promise. A vow that no matter what happened, you would always have each other. Sure, there would be more fights and the road wouldn’t always be easy. But you loved each other. And that’s all that matters.

a/n: Thank you for reading! requests for mood boards and fic’s are open. 

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake seresin fic #jake seresin imagine #hangman x reader #hangman #hangman fanfiction #hangman fic #top gun #top gun fanfiction #top gun x reader #top gun x female reader #top gun angst #top gun fluff #hangman top gun #Maverick

[beyondthesefourwalls]

I Don't Love You Like I Used To

Summary: After so many years with you, Javy Machado doesn't love you like he used to. He loves you so much more.

Notes: A short little one shot for the Love Is In The Air TGM challenge created and hosted by @roosterforme. This was so fun to write! Javy deserves all the love.

Song Inspiration: I Don't Love You Like I Used To by John Legend. Some of the lyrics definitely make their way into the story near the end.

Pairing: Javy Machado x Reader (no use of y/n, can be read as unnamed OC)

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: It's a fluff fest.

---------

You’re sixteen the first time you meet, and Javy is gone for you instantly. He locks eyes on you when he’s running toward the end zone and is so distracted that the football he was meant to catch hits him straight in the head, bouncing off his helmet and into the hands of someone from the other team. Your pom-poms shake when it happens, and that’s when he realizes you’re standing on the opposing team’s sideline in their colors. 

When the game is over three minutes later, definitely because of the interception he caused, he wastes no time in ripping his helmet off and running over to you. 

“Hey!” He yells, trying to grab your attention when he sees you turn to make your way back to the team bus you arrived on. You don’t realize he’s calling after you specifically, so he sprints faster than he had run all night so he can swing himself in front of you. You jump, stopping in your tracks with barely enough time to stop yourself from running straight into his padded chest and sweaty jersey. The little yelp you let out is the cutest sound he had ever heard. 

“Sorry,” he pants in apology, “I didn’t mean to startle you.” 

“Can I help you with something?” you ask. Your voice mesmerized him. He finds himself going a little cross eyed the longer he looks at you, but shakes himself out of it when you raise an eyebrow expectantly. He realizes he ran over here with no plan in mind. How were you making him so nervous already?

“You’re beautiful,” he blurts out. 

You let out a laugh, and he changed his mind. That was the cutest sound he had never heard. 

“Did that ball you took to the head hit you harder than it looked?” you ask, and Javy shook his head so fast he was surprised he didn’t crack his neck. 

“It was why I took the ball to the head. You took my breath away, baby.” 

You smile at him, giggling happily. You shift your pom poms into one hand and hold out the other to him, introducing yourself. Javy takes it and swears he feels electricity go through his entire body.

“I’m Javy,” he says, “but I’ll be whoever you want me to be.”

He takes you for beignets that weekend, holding your hand as you make your way through the French Quarter, and he hasn’t let go of it since. 

Two years later, he decides that getting into the Naval Academy is the best thing and the hardest thing to ever happen to him. You’re sitting beside him on his front porch when he opens the letter. You throw your arms around him and keep saying how proud you are, over and over and over again. But he feels the tears as they seep into his collar and he knows they aren’t just because of how happy you are that he’s part of the slim 8% acceptance rate. 

Because you had been accepted to Tulane, and he knew the scholarship you received there wasn’t something you would ever be able to turn down, no matter how much he wanted you close to him. He would never hold you back like that, anyway. 

“We’ll be okay,” he promises, pulling back to kiss your tears away and stare into the eyes that had captivated him from the very beginning. 

He would marry you tomorrow if it wasn’t for the fact that the academy prohibited him from doing so. He doesn’t have the money for a diamond, so he does the next best thing and slips his class ring off his finger and places it on your own. He’d replace it when he could. 

--------

They’re the longest four years of his life, but he makes it. You both make it, individually and together. You get your degree, and you’re there tapping him out as he earns his place in the Navy two days later. 

He still has flight school and a long way to go, but now you can be next to him. He wants you to be able to go anywhere with him, and you want the exact same. He had put a little bit of money aside from his stipend check every month for the last four years, and it’s enough to buy you the ring you deserve. His class ring stays on a chain around your neck. 

You buy a white dress from a department store and he’s in his dress uniform when you get married in the courthouse in New Orleans the weekend before he leaves for more training. Everything the two of you own is packed in the back of the car you’ve had since your 16th birthday, ready to make the drive to Pensacola with him in the driver’s side. It’s only your immediate family there, and he promises that one day, he’ll give you the big wedding of your dreams. 

“I don’t need that,” you assure him, standing in the hallway waiting for the judge to call you in. You cup his face in your hands, smoothing your thumb back and forth across his cleanly shaven chin. “All I need is you and me, baby. Always and forever.” 

He knows that you mean it, but he swears to himself that this won’t be the last time the two of you say “I Do” to one another, and the next time will be in front of everyone you know. 

It’s not always easy. You’re left alone a lot while he trains, and then when he finally earns his wings, the deployments start almost right away. The first one lasts nearly 6 months, and he feels like he’s missing half of his soul the entire time he’s away. He hates the thought of you in the small little apartment the two of you share all alone. It’s never been easy for you to make friends, and your family is hundreds of miles away. You sound sad on the few chances the two of you get to talk even if you’re trying to be chipper for him. He knows you well enough to know the difference. 

Holding you in his arms when he gets off the ship is the best feeling he’s ever had. He hopes that he’d never have to leave you again, but both of you know that won’t be the case. 

He comes home the next day with a small bundle of fluff with a pink ribbon tied around her neck. You fling yourself off the couch, rushing toward him. 

“Oh my god, Javy! It’s a puppy! Hi, sweetheart!” you coo, and Javy is beaming as he transfers the little one into your waiting arms. 

It’s not the same, he knows, but at least now you won’t be totally alone when he’s gone. 

---------

You had been married for four years the first time he’s seriously injured. He wakes up in a hospital bed in Germany to you sleeping curled up in a chair, holding his hand. There are tear stains on your face and your eyes look puffy, even in sleep.

Hangman, someone who has become his best friend in the last few years, is on his other side. He looks tired, too, but he has his signature smirk on his face. 

“Morning, sleeping beauty.” 

His voice is quieter than Javy had ever heard it, used to the blonde being loud and boisterous at any opportunity. It says a lot about who Jake really is that he’s being quiet now, knowing that the sleep you’re getting is fitful and light. In the back of his hazy mind, Javy wishes other people got to see this side of him.

“Is she alright?”

His wingman huffs out a laugh, shaking his head in amused disbelief. “Unreal. You wake up from almost getting blown out of the sky and the first thing you do is ask if she’s okay? You’re whipped, man.”

“Jake,” he croaks, and the blonde sobers up from his teasing instantly at the use of his first name. 

He heaves out a long sigh, scratching at his chin, “I called her as soon as I could, like you asked. The Navy beat me to it though and she was already boarding a flight. I was there when she landed and brought her here safely. I force some water and some food down her throat every few hours. May have had to pull the ‘it’s what Javy would want’ card a few times for that one, though. She hasn’t slept much, but she’s been out for about an hour this time. When I asked if she wanted to go check into a hotel, I thought her glare was going to actually kill me, no weapons or even words necessary.”

Javy manages a grin, knowing exactly what the other man was talking about. “She’s a little scary sometimes,”

“Yeah, no shit,” Jake snorts, shaking his head. “But she’s been as okay as she can be, man. Worried like hell about you. You got yourself a good one, you know?”

“Yeah,” Javy breathes out, “I know I do. Thank you, man. For looking out for her.” 

Jake gives him a single nod, not saying anything, because he really didn’t have to. It was something the two of them had discussed only once, shortly after realizing the friendship between them. If anything ever happened to the other, they’d step up. Javy would make sure Jake’s mom and sisters were taken care of, and Jake would make sure you were okay. The pact made Javy feel better every time he went up in the sky. 

You startle in your chair, blinking awake from your restless sleep with a gasp. Your eyes find his instantly, and Javy feels a dampness in his eyes that reflects that in yours. 

“Hey baby” he whispers, already reaching his hand out for yours. Jake standing up and excusing himself to go find a doctor doesn’t even register to him, his focus entirely on you. 

“Javy,” you cry, grasping his hand tightly as you stand to lean over him. “Oh, baby.” 

You kiss him gently, mindful of the cuts on his cheek and the stitches on his hairline. A tear drips onto his face and he breathes through the pain to bring a hand up to cup your face in his palm. “Hey now. None of that, pretty girl.” 

“It’s so good to see you,” you choke out, pressing another kiss to his lips. 

“Missed you, baby,” he murmurs, stroking his hand through your hair before he tugs gently on you, wanting you to lay with him. You protest, afraid of disrupting his injuries, but he shakes his head at you adamantly. He wants to hold you. He needs to. It had been too long, and he knew it would help your frazzled nerves along with his. 

“I’m okay,” he promises, “come here, please.” 

When you gently crawl into the bed beside him, the pain becomes an afterthought. He hurts all over, sure, but you’re here with him, and that has always made everything better. 

_______

The two of you spend your 8 year wedding anniversary packing up your apartment in Sigonella, Italy. It’s the fourth duty station he’s had, and by far your favorite. You’re both going to miss it, but a full time opportunity at Top Gun was next on the docket and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to what that meant for his career. Plus, seeing you in the California sun everyday would be an added perk. 

“Look at this!” 

You’re sitting on the living room floor, surrounded by boxes and old newspapers to wrap things in. Javy crawls over to settle beside you, his arm braced behind your back. It’s a scrapbook from your senior year of high school. You’re giggling as you flip through it, seeing picture after picture of the two of you looking over ten years younger. Football games in opposing colors, homecoming and prom, both his and yours, and your weekly breakfast dates over beignets in the French Quarter. It’s filled with all the memories that defined the beginning of your relationship. 

“Do you still love me like you did back then?” you tease, leaning toward him with a faux innocent expression on your face. Javy thinks he falls in love with you all over again at that moment, like he has every day for the last 14 years you have been together. He knows that the love struck look on his face in all of those pictures had nothing on what it looked like now. 

The truth was, he did love you differently. It wasn’t the same juvenile love he had felt the two years you were together in high school, or the longing love he felt during the academy. It had changed as the two of you grew. It was something you both worked at every single day, not without its challenges. You’d been through so much together and you get a little closer as you get closer to your forever. You weren’t in a honeymoon phase anymore and had gone through so many different stages of life. But if he had the chance, he wouldn’t change a single thing. 

He’d been in too deep to run away from you from the very moment he saw you on the sidelines cheering for another team. After all the years together, he knew without a doubt that he couldn’t live without you now. 

“Nah,” he shakes his head, and kisses your lips gently when you raise your eyebrows at him, “I love you so much more, baby.”

-------

Notes: This may be the softest thing I've ever written. Leave it some love if you enjoyed it! 💚😊

#love is in the air tgm #javy machado x reader #javy machado x you #javy machado imagine #javy machado fluff #javy machado x oc #javy machado #coyote x reader #coyote x you #javy coyote machado #tgm fanfiction

[chirpsythismorning]

My favorite combination of endgame byler proof dates back to the promotion for season two (bc of course it does)!

About a week before s2 premiered, David Harbour did an interview, and deadass the only thing that makes any sense in regards to what he could possibly be referring to here, is endgame Byler:

"We’re talking about ending Stranger Things at either season four or season five. I know there is an end to the story. It’s a very beautiful end. We’ve already been laying out the pipework. There are easter eggs in season one that you won’t get until season four. You’ll look back and say ‘we’ve been seeing this story the whole time, we just haven’t realized it’. To me, that’s wonderful.”

Now, one could try to argue that David was referring to Will’s sexuality/feelings for Mike here, and I would agree, at least partly, because David’s wording sounds an awful lot like what Noah said recently in his interview with Variety:

"I mean, it’s pretty clear this season that Will has feelings for Mike. They’ve been intentionally pulling that out over the past few seasons. Even in Season 1, they hinted at that and slowly, slowly grew that storyline. I think for Season 4, it was just me playing this character who loves his best friend but struggles with knowing if he’ll be accepted or not, and feeling like a mistake and like he doesn’t belong. Will has always felt like that."

Where it gets complicated though, is that if David was referring to solely Will sexuality/unrequited feelings in this interview, then it doesn’t really make sense for him to frame it as ‘wonderful’.

But, it is important to note that David was talking about the ending, not the beginning of the end, which is what s4 ended up being. His assumption back then, was based on his knowledge of the ending, and how long he hoped the show would go for them to close off that story.

S4 obviously wasn’t a 'beautiful', nor 'wonderful' conclusion to Will’s story arc involving his sexuality/feelings for Mike being built up since s1. So, even if that’s all David was referring to, we are still yet to see the payoff.

This is where the damning proof combo comes in...

Most of you probably know, but as promotion for s2, Spotify collaborated with Netflix for official playlists dedicated to each of the ST characters. It was said that these playlists were specialized and unique to each characters traits.

But especially when it comes to the first song on each of these playlists, almost all of them are instantly recognizable as to why we can assume they chose that song, for that specific character, to start off their playlist. And arguably, even for the most casual of viewers.

For El it’s, Papa Don’t Broach. Pretty self explanatory.

For Will, it’s Should I Stay or Should I Go. Again, self explanatory.

For Mike, it's Smalltown Boy...

To those who don't know, Smalltown Boy (1984) is an unequivocal gay anthem about a young, gay man in the 80's who experiences homophobia and alienation in his small home-town, only to leave (run away) by the end, in order to be happy.

The music video leans even more blatantly into this narrative. Here it is beside this shot of Mike in 4x01 (one of the very few POV shots we got from him in s4, might I add), and it fits quite well with the Smalltown Boy agenda...

To be clear, this isn't just some song the queer community loved and so it turned into a gay anthem overtime. Because, yeah, there are definitely some songs that lyrically just feel like they could be queer (despite not intentionally being), and so the gays sort of claim it and it gains even more meaning and importance over time. However, that is not the case here. This song is undoubtedly one of the most intentionally gay songs of the 80's. And a heartbreaking SYNTH one at that!!!

If the hints for Will were intentional back then (confirmed), then it’s highly likely Smalltown Boy being the first song on Mike’s official playlist, may just be one of the many Easter eggs pointing to the fact that Mike has also been gay (and in love with Will??) this whole time.

Also worth mentioning that when Finn was recently asked about M*leven's relationship in season 5 (the ending), he had this to say;

"I don’t know, I’m really interested… I don’t know, I’m interested kind of like for the end of the show kinda in general (…) Who’s gonna stay in Hawkins, who’s gonna leave. Who’s gonna try to find a life outside. Is there even gonna be a Hawkins? I don’t know. But yeah. I’d be interested to see if Mike stays in Hawkins, or tries to find a life outside of his town. And also, you know it’s hard to tell, like obviously with Eleven and his relationship, but I hope they find, you know, happiness."

When they make-up after fighting in 4x04, Mike tells Will that Hawkins isn't the same without him. After literally listing off all of their friends, basically separating them from Will, "They're great... but-" sort of confirms to us that no matter what Hawkins has to offer, without Will, it's not the same to Mike. Which means if Will isn't going to stay in Hawkins at the end (he won't), Mike probably wont either.

TBH, Will and Mike both having feelings for each other since the beginning, and ending up together, fits a whole lot better with: ‘we’ve been seeing this story the whole time, we just haven’t realized it. And I think that’s wonderful’, than an unrequited love story does....

And the fact that all of these easter eggs, for both Mike and Will, started picking up more prominently after season 2, makes the Duffers whole "what is s2?" act right now even more funny...

#byler #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things 5 #stranger things theory #stranger things meta #stranger things spoilers #stranger things 5 theory #mike wheeler #will byers #smalltown boy agenda

[epelletea]

Your TWST S/O reacts to you singing a familiar tune !!

First post oh lord. But this is mainly about if a certain TWST Character heard you singing song from their story for Ex: Hakuna Matata or Part of Your World! This is my first time ever writing something like this and fairly new to TWST spare me 🙇🏾‍♀️ !

Part 2

Azul Ashengrotto

You we’re hanging out with him in his office while Azul was doing whatever Fish Mafia do. Probably looking over his contracts.

You had nothing better else to do other than sit on your phone while you watched your boyfriend do his work. Just out of pure coincidence, you started to hum the tune ‘Poor Unfortunate Souls’

At first , he doesn’t mind your humming and finds it quite enjoyable. Few more minutes go by, he finds himself somehow humming the tune with you. He stops, starts to guess what song you are singing and how does he know it.

After you finish humming the song. Azul questions you about what song name is. Sitting there confuse by the sudden question. You debate on telling him because from your world, this song is sung by Ursula. Would he believe you if you told him the truth?

In the end , you didn’t tell him the truth and decided to try and dodge his question. He didn’t stop questioning you about the name of the song. He kept saying how the song felt familiar too him but he’s never heard it before? He even asked you to sing it again but with the lyrics.

He eventually does give up, after you say that you don’t remember the words and you refusing to still tell him the name of the song not the artist. He treats you to a drink at the Monstro Lounge as apologies for even trying to dig in further.

But just cuz he’s not asking you about it anymore. Doesn’t mean he isn’t going to do his research about that songs origins. (Spoiler Alert: he hasn’t found anything yet.)

Malleus Draconia

Another normal day of Gargoyle Watching with your lovely boyfriend Malleus. You enjoy every moment you spend with him but sometimes it can get a little boring with him. But you would never admit that to his face, it would hurt your heart to see his sad face.

Out of pure coincidence while on your stroll with Malleus looking at the statues. You begin to sing the tune ‘Upon a Dream’ by coincidence as you walked right beside him.

Malleus took in your beautiful voice as you sung this familiar tune. Your voice sounding like angels singing to his ears.

Huh? What was this tune you were singing actually? He pondered. Why did it feel so familiar too him.

He would stop his stroll to question you about the song. You shouldn’t have been surprised for Malleus to heard of the song. But you debated on telling him the truth because the song was sung by Princess Aurora herself. Would he question how you knew this song?

In the end, you decided not to tell him. He respected your choice and asked for you to keep singing for him for a little while longer for him. You agreed and kept singing while you kept watching the Gargoyles with him.

Bonus!!: He has gone to Lilia and spoke to him bout the tune you were singing. Lilia was quite surprised how you knew the tune that Princess Aurora sung to her Prince.

Lilia ought to question later about it but for now he explained to Malleus that the song was an old love song sung by a human decades ago. Malleus of course, wanted to question you as well for how someone like you would know such an old sung? But he decided to just relish in the fact that you were singing a love song to himself. His heart couldn’t take such a thought. He would start looking up love songs to sing back to you.

Floyd & Jade Leech

Imagine dating both brothers. Wow isn’t your life just exciting. There is never dull day with these two as your significant other.

While your two boyfriends were doing gods knows what. You were sat in one of the booths at the Monstro Lounge. Sitting there drinking a nice glass of Coral Sea Blast. You got bored just sitting there and started singing to yourself.

Under the Sea, a classic song. You chose this song on purpose to sing due to the fishy and sea like atmosphere of the Lounge.

While singing to yourself, and staring off into space. You didn’t notice two sharp eye eels staring directly at you.

Listening to your every word as you sung out the catchy tune. They actually knew this tune because it’s quite the popular song back in their hometown.

Floyd was the first one to approach you, snapping you out of your little trance. Smiling at you goofily and nuzzling your hair. How did his little Shrimpy know one of the most popular songs in the Sea?

Jade not to far behind from his brother came up from the other side of you. Nodding and smiling agreeing with Floyd. He compliments you on how pretty of a singing voice you have.

The two basically have you squished between them as they both coo at how adorable you are singing and we’re having fun to yourself a few minutes ago.

They later on promise one day they’ll show you the sea and take you for a swim with them… this could potentially be very fun and exciting but also terrifying with these two.

Ruggie Buuchi

When your little hyena lover isn’t taken away by a bossy lion and listening to his every rule. He’s busy sunbathing with you outside and enjoying your company as he lays his head in your lap.

He enjoys these moment to the fullest because it’s the few breaks he gets when he’s not getting bossed around by Leona or he’s the one bossing around Leona himself.

While relishing in each other’s presence, you decided to sing a soft tune to yourself as you closed your eyes enjoying the soothing atmosphere.

His little hyena ears perk up to the sudden humming coming from you. He feels even more relaxed and at peace. Hell he could even fall asleep listening to your voice.

But what was this song you we’re singing? Well you were humming the beat of Hakuna Matata due to the peaceful time you are having and it felt oddly fitting.

Ruggie couldn’t help but shake off the feeling as if he has heard this song before. The beat seemed awfully familiar.

That’s when it hits him. This song is a quite popular song back in his hometown he used to hear people go by sing it when he was younger. It’s been a while since he heard that song resurface.

You hesitated to tell him the truth of how you knew the song. So instead, you agreed on him saying that one of the students had sung it to themselves and you happened to overheard them.

He opens his eyes and decides to question you on how you have heard the song. Did one of the other Savanaclaw students happen to sing it near you?

Ruggie couldn’t help but feel like you weren’t telling the truth but decided to shrug it off. To be fair, the song is pretty catchy so it wouldn’t be surprising if somehow just randomly sung it.

He even joined on singing the song with you until he eventually fell asleep.

#disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #first post #i don’t like my writing aa #twisted wonderland x reader #disney #one shot #headcanon #twst fanfic #twst wonderland #malleus draconia #ruggie bucchi #azul ashengrotto #floyd leech #jade leech #writing #twst headcanons #A Familiar Tune

[dragonfirerogue-writes]

Criminal

Wednesday x Kitsune!Reader

Part One|Part Two|Part Three|Part Four|Part Five|Part Six|Part Seven

Eugene waves at you as you slid down the stair railing with your pack. Your smirk was wide as you land on the carpet with a muted thud.

"Eugene! You ready for the hunt?"

The boy nods as you both make your way towards Ophelia Hall. "Yes! I have everything we need. Snacks, extra batteries, some bug jars, just in case." He says with a wiggle of his eyebrow.

You let out a laugh, only to stop right in your tracks as the sight of Wednesday in a beautiful gothic dress steals your breath away. But the confusion set in when you register the fact that Tyler was next to her. In a tuxedo. You were too baffled to say anything, so Eugene piped up.

"Wednesday, what's going on?"

You shake yourself out of your reverie and spoke up as well. "Yeah, what happened to staking out the cave?" You couldn't look Wednesday in the eyes for fear of getting drawn in again. "I broke plans to join you on this."

Wednesday didn't answer. Her eyes just flitted awkwardly from side to side, uncomfortable in the situation. You and Eugene both took that as a sign. The bee boy looks at you dejectedly.

"I guess we'll have to check out the woods on our own."

"Don't! It's dangerous. Stand down."

Your arms cross. "You don't think we can handle it?"

"We'll all go tomorrow night. Understood?"

With that, she turns and walks away with her date. The burning feeling within you builds up as you glare at the duo's backs. Eugene just pats your back, drawing your attention to him.

"Let's go anyway. We'll show her how capable we are."

Your head shakes in reply. "Sorry, Eug. I don't feel like it anymore." Your eyes didn't move, even when Wednesday and Tyler disappeared from eyesight. "I think I'm gonna put my original plans back on the docket."

Finally, you turn to look at your friend.

"Rest for tonight. We'll hit the woods tomorrow, with or without Wednesday."

You walk away, getting ready for the Rave'N.

-----+++++-----

Your eyes burned slightly at the bright whites and blues of your surroundings. Wandering around, you weave through the crowd, greeting friends as you pass them. Soon enough, you're joined by your dancer friends. The group huddles together, debating on when to execute their plan. Before you could make a decision, you see your crush on the dance floor.

The movements caught your attention and suddenly, along with some others, you were staring. She seemed so unbothered by anyone else. The unnatural dance moves seemed to inspire you.

"I know when we should do this. Irina, go talk to the DJ. Everyone have their ribbons?" When everyone nods you give them a smirk. "Just like we practiced, guys."

The dance continues on. Wednesday and Tyler dance close until you suddenly pop up between the two.

"Having fun, lovebirds?" You blurt out with a wicked grin. Wednesday balks at you.

"Y/N? What are you doing here?"

"I told you. I broke plans to hang out with you. My plans are here."

"What plan? Pestering me? You do that regardless."

Your grin goes wider. "That's just a plus."

You whirl around Wednesday to stand behind her. Before she could move, she felt something tightened around her neck. The touch of fabric slide away, revealing a black ribbon in your hands. Backing away, you tie the ends of the ribbon together and wrap the loop around your wrists, binding them together.

With a record scratch, the song playing ends abruptly, only to have another start. Vocalizations begin as you continue your path backwards, eyes never leaving Wednesday. From other points in the crowd, your friends join you, wrists also bound, jerking them around at the last two beats of each measure.

The performance begins.

You and four others drop to your knees as the lyrics begin and you all start to pulse your chests, as if your hearts were trying to burst out. It's clear now that it's a choreographed dance as the crowd circles you to watch. Before long, you're back up on your feet, alternating between jerking moves and smooth transitions. Your eyes land on Wednesday's as you remove the ribbon around your wrists with your teeth and toss it to her before going full out on the dance.

The goth couldn't take her eyes off of you. The way you spun and whipped around with ease as you worked the crowd was fascinating. At the second chorus, the other dancers circled you while you knelt, she could see how heavily you were breathing. But it still wasn't a moment's rest. You were still performing as your eyes pierced through hers. When your solo came, the others dropped to the floor, hidden by the fog. Only their hands and legs were seen as they did their floor choreography.

Then the bridge to the final chorus began. Instrumental with the same vocalizations that happened in the beginning. All the dancers broke from the group, weaving in and out of the members of the crowd. You, on the other hand, inched over towards Wednesday with stuttered steps. Suddenly, you surged towards her and grabbed her wrist. You bring her hand to your neck. Her fingers reflexively curl around your throat as your fox eyes and fangs make their appearance to her for the first time. You stare into her eyes as the bridge ends.

"Deo mangchyeojwo" you say alongside the song before jumping back and finishing the dance at the last chorus.

The room erupts in applause as you hit the final pose, holding it to revel in the cheers. It wasn't until you felt a drop on your face that you dropped your pose. Looking up, more drops fell, leaving red streaks on your face. The sprinkler systems had been triggered, raining red on everyone.

Cheers turn into screams as people begin to scramble away, slipping and sliding as they try to escape the 'Carrie' recreation scene. Only you and Wednesday seem to be unbothered. Your attention turned to Wednesday when you hear her scoff.

"They couldn't even spring for real pigs' blood." She looks over at you. "It's paint."

You let out a soft laugh, your anger and jealousy ebbed for the moment, especially after the dance. "I'll getcha pigs' blood and redo this whole thing."

You and Wednesday ended up in the eye of the storm. Chaos reigned around you while you had just a moment to see the goth's lips quirk up ever so slightly at your words.

The sudden hit of a vision burst that bubble.

Worried that she may fall, you moved closer to Wednesday, but she recovered quickly with wide, worried eyes. She grabs your arms to steady herself before rushing an explanation.

"Eugene is in the woods. He's in danger."

With a nod you bolt out alongside the girl, hoping to the gods that you two will make it in time.

#a dragon tries to write #Wednesday Addams x Reader #Wednesday x Reader #Spotify

[theotterpenguin]

what’s your take on zutara being “you’re the wind, i’m in the water”. i’ve heard k@t@@ngs saying it’s clearly about their ship bc their elements are air and water but isn’t that a very surface level of understanding of the lyrics?

anon, i adore you for this ask because i love chemtrails over the country club (and lana's music in general).

i'm not surprised that people would try to apply this song to katara and aang because yes, at a surface level it's relevant to them for obvious reasons (water vs. wind), but i agree that the lyrics have far more depth than this.

first, we have to look at the context of the lyrics within the song. "you're in the wind, i'm in the water" presents a romanticized view of the separation of two lovers, just as the two elements brush past each other but never become one. this theme of separation is seen throughout the rest of the song as lana contrasts the privileged bubble of suburbia with the harsh reality of society, the darkness lurking behind a beautiful front.

likewise, zuko and katara have similar character arcs that revolve around an awakening to the harsh truths of society. zuko learns that the beauty and the power of the fire nation is just a facade, hiding the extreme cruelty of its colonialism and imperalism that has hurt all people (which goes hand-in-hand with zuko unlearning the abuse from his father, the personification of the fire nation itself). katara's arc involves a similar type of awakening, as she unlearns some of the dichotomous thinking she's held around the fire nation. her experiences with jet, hama, the sexism of the northern water tribe, the fire nation village in the painted lady, and even zuko show her the complexities of the war and teach her that people aren't always as simple as "good" or "evil." essentially, both zuko and katara undergo parallel character arcs that fundamentally change their worldview, reflective of the theme of chemtrails over the country club.

additionally, the "wind" and "water" that symbolize the separation of the two lovers in the song is also reminiscent of zuko and katara's journey - the two characters that have been pitted against each other from the beginning of the show, their opposing goals of protecting the avatar vs. capturing the avatar, daughter of the chieftain of the southern water tribe vs. prince of the fire nation, and the two characters that end every season finale in an climactic fight scene (first on opposing sides, then on the same side). and if you want an even more bittersweet perspective, there's also the fact that they are doomed by the narrative, two lovers who never end up together in this lifetime, fated to be separated.

if we want to look further into the song, i've also seen the lyric "nobody's son, nobody's daughter" being superficially applied to aang and katara as they have both experienced loss, but again, in the context of the actual show, it's katara and zuko who are repeatedly paralleled with this connection of losing their mothers and being separated from their fathers. katara discusses her grief over losing kya with haru, jet, and aang, but it's only her and zuko's connection over this that carries actual narrative weight in the story. and katara is the only person that zuko discusses the loss of his mother with. so it only makes sense that all of these narrative parallels culminate in the southern raiders, an episode vital to katara's character arc in which zuko is a crucial supporting character. you could also argue this ties in with the overall theme of separation in the song - being separated from your parentage and having to forge your own path.

finally, as a fun little addition, one of the other lyrics in the song is "my moon's in leo, my cancer is sun." and hmm, who are the two characters we typically associate with the moon and sun? (hint: "you rise with the moon, i rise with the sun"). but wait - it goes even deeper than that. i am most definitely not an expert on zodiac signs, but according to some basic googling, leo (a fire element) is typically ruled by the sun, while cancer (a water element) is typically ruled by the moon. by switching up what elements we typically associate with the signs, lana is reflecting on the duality and the unpredictability of herself like how she reflects on the duality of society earlier in the song. and similarly, zuko and katara undergo dual character arcs bound by elemental symbolism. despite being a waterbender, katara also personifies the element of fire - the element of passion, power, and will - as she stands up against injustice and refuses to back down from a fight. and despite being a firebender, zuko's arc also personifies the element of water - the element of change and adaptability - as zuko's perception of himself, his father, and the fire nation changes over time. they are both water and fire, both moon and sun, both yin and yang.

#zutara #zuko x katara #zutara analysis #atla #my post #my meta #anti kataang #kataang critical #my asks #i'm sorry this took so long to answer anon! #writing this post almost convinced me lana wrote this song for zutara #i think it just goes to show how well written zuko and katara's parallel character arcs were #i've seen many a tiktok bashing zutara shippers for posting zuko and katara to these lyrics and arguing that k//ataang fits better #and ugh... it's just such a superficial analysis to compare just based on the elements of wind and water

[mostofthingsmostofthetime]

My thoughts on The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes movie

I don’t know if I liked it as much as the original films (maybe Mockingjay 1 & 2 as they are pretty emotionally draining), but I still enjoyed it.

I think where it fell a little flat for me is 1. The beginning was a bit slow (tbh I only really started getting interested when Lucy Gray stuck that snake down that girl’s dress & even then I enjoyed the story more when the setting changed from the Capitol to the district) 2. I knew Snow would survive 3. I’d already been spoiled online for a lot of stuff that happens & 4. while I know the director did his best to make Snow as “likeable” as he could for as long as possible, even before he started getting “a little too comfortable” with killing & snitching I didn’t find him as sympathetic as Katniss or Peeta (but that is probably again down to the fact that I know what he goes onto do & there’s no real way around that), this made engaging with him difficult for me.

The world is fascinating. Getting to see all the new locations we never had access to before as well as old locations now in a totally different light (for example district 12 which, while still clearly suffering, seemed like such a bustling industrial town compared to how it is in Katniss’s time). It might have a much more retro aesthetic but there's also just a more vibrant, natural, wild & lawless atmosphere to this movie compared to the others in the franchise. The whole scope of the film just felt more cinematic then I remember the others being yet also weirdly intimate. Maybe because it was one contained story & we knew the main character’s fate from the start. I also loved the title cards signifying the start of each section of the story like from the books & wished they'd done something similar for the other films. It just added a certain flair to the whole thing. Almost gave it the vibe of a tragic play.

The costuming was great. The bright red of the academy uniforms.  Flickerman’s snazzy suits. Snow’s dapper black & white outfit. Both peace keeper uniforms (despite one of them giving very ‘1930’s Germany’ vibes) looked great. Grandma might have been a bigot, but at least she was well dressed. Everything Dr Gaul wore (except the top that looked like a used tampon, lol) was exquisite. The main ladies of fashion, Tigris & Lucy Gray slayed. Our Future Capitol stylist looked like some regal yet exotic bird & Miss Survivor was giving Bohemian, country girl realness the entire time she was on screen. Even the extras were serving (like that random couple Snow walked past on his way to the reaping ceremony).

The music was amazing. Every song that played was fantastic (shout out to Olivia for her end credit contribution). The lyrics & instrumentation were beautiful & my god does Rachel Zegler have pipes! Anyone who says the singing scenes are cringy is just stupid like I’m sorry you can’t appreciate art. Also, the words ‘ballad’ & ‘songbirds’ are literally in the title. Plus, Lucy Gray is from the poorest district, so what exactly do those people want her to do in her free time? She can’t exactly hop on an X-box for a few hours. Not too mention that (as the offspring of someone who’s musically inclined) I can tell you, it’s completely realistic for a musician to use their craft to help them deal with trauma & Lucy Gray clearly had more than her fair share of that.

The Grandma'am helped to paint a sadly very realistic background for Snow. As who among us hasn’t met at least one delusional old person who thinks that their/their group’s suffering (regardless of the severity of it or the reason behind their former/newer status in society) means that no one else are deserving of even the tiniest shred of humanity & there are some people who are unlucky enough to not only be related to these people but be raised by them.

Hunter schafer as Tigris is clearly the superior Snow when it comes to things like empathy & overall mental stability but I do kind of wish they’d been more for her to do. Credit where credit is due though her & Tom did actually look like they could be related & I did buy their familial bond (which makes her appearance in Mockingjay so much sadder in hindsight).

Peter Dinklage as Casca Highbottom was a bit of a mix for me just due to his purpose as a character & the limit of film as a form of media. Like sure the audience know that Snow’s going to become an irredeemable monster in the end but without a window into his mind it really does just seem like the Dean is just out to get him & even when we find out why it seems kind of unfair. Like sure his dad sucked but haven’t the Games shown that blaming children for violence caused by others is unjust (& like ok he hates Coriolanus & probably the grandma but Tigris hadn’t done anything to deserve living in poverty, as she can’t control who she’s related to)? Plus, it felt like he could have at least tried taking Snow under his wing at some point to try to hinder Dr Gual’s influence. Saying all of that, though, Peter Dinklage is great at playing an addict with depression & the idea that some drunken rambling could lead to such long-lasting suffering is terrifying. Also its pretty realistic that living with that kind of guilt & in such a cruel environment for that long would make most people jaded & bitter, even if they did have good intentions.

Omg we finally get a Mayor family on screen & they’re assholes! Madge would be so disappointed 😭. It was interesting to see how harsh & overall “boot licky” the mayor & his family seemed compared to decades later, which makes sense as the war wasn’t that long ago for them so the dad probably felt more incentive to align himself with the Capitol as well as not feeling very connected to the district people as 12’s decline probably didn’t fully set in until they really started running low on coal & Snow became president (oh I just know he wanted to blow that district off the map 😆). I also wouldn’t put it past Billy to come up with some sob story of how he really does love Mayfair but wicked Lucy Gray is somehow preventing them from being together. Still no excuse to try to send her to her death twice in one week, though. Definitely not a girl’s girl.

Ok, so a liar. Cheat. Drunk & someone who hits women. Is there anything good about Billy Taupe? Also, trying to get your ex back, while your current girlfriend is literally standing right next to you? Dude, have some god damn back bone! You made a choice, now stick to it. Also, fumbling Lucy Gray, for a girl like that? What’s it like having no brains or taste? Well, too bad, coz you’re stuck with her forever now, lol.

Viola Davies, the actress that you are. What else is there to say? Dr Gaul is almost comic book levels of insane. Like she is how the Right see women in STEM, on crack! I don’t know what she did to get into character, but whatever it was, it worked.

Jason Schwartzman as Lucretius Flickerman is a very interesting addition to the story despite playing such a small & seemingly insignificant role. He is strange in how unthreatening he is while also extremely blasé about the abhorrent violence he witnesses that it’s as funny as it is disturbing. Making him come across as  more human yet harsher than his son, who at least pretends to care about the tributes (in a very Capitol way, obviously but still). There’s also a polish & confidence to Tucci’s performance that I think Schwartzman did a great job of avoiding copying (despite knowing what audiences were probably expecting) because not only are their characters in entirely different stages of their careers but the whole ethos of the Hunger Games is different in Snow’s youth than it is in Katniss’s. Caesar is a well established presenter & during his time, the games have always been a success (minus the year with the tundra) that the entire Capitol is invested in & seemingly in support of. On the other hand Lucretius had the unique task of not only coming into a job like this with zero experience (I mean imagine going from announcing the weather to presenting the fucking hunger games) but also there were no vibes to try to emulate let alone guidelines to follow because he truly was the first person to do this. On top of that, the "event" his presenting has been panned for years as both boring & unethical. Schwartzman brought a slightly awkward, experimental, yet try hard vibe (like a comedian who's desperate to get a laugh) that I think worked wonderfully for the character.

Tom Blyth's performance was great & he was visually perfect for a young Snow (the power of a good wig! Who knew lol). Even having the cool, analytical stare of Donald Sutherland, down pat. While his appearance was very Eminem during his peacekeeping days, his realisation in the cabin and subsequent breakdown in the woods were crazy. There was so much tension between him & Rachel in that scene that for a second, it literally felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. I could almost hear the record scratch for both of them, & all that building paranoia finally coming to a sudden crescendo in the way that it did? Pure cinema!

Josh Rivera, as Sejanus, was honestly a mix for me. Obviously, I agree with his morals, but his way of going about it did seem a little dumb. However I do think it’s pretty realistic that a teenager, especially a rich one, would be rather naive. Also I’ve heard that he’s smarter in the book & I think at times my frustration with him is more just down to the fact that I’m seeing him from Snow’s point of view. Meaning scenes that would be portrayed as noble in any other film instead come across as almost painfully inconvenient because the focus is always on how they affect Snow rather than the actual victims of the situation. Lastly, sorry, Snowjanus shippers, I just don’t see it (especially on Snow’s end), but whatever floats your boat.

Rachel Zegler played Lucy Gray with the perfect mix of natural charm & emotional vulnerability with clear pride in her culture & a refusal to let the world around her change who she is. Yet there was also an air of mystery & a subtle resilience to her that makes her potentially surviving out in the woods for years without being detected actually believable (though I don’t buy the theory that she went on to become president Coin). Definitely the highlight of the movie for me.

PS. I'd love to know what you think of my review in the comments/tags & am open to criticism (as long as it's respectful) just remember that I'm only talking about the movie so please don't reference anything spersific to the book.

#some other things i wanted to mention but didn’t seem significant to put in the review (+ it was getting rather long) are: #Clemensia you were so pretty & did not desserve to die #like who hasn't cheated on their homework a little #may my hair look as good as your's if i ever get bit by a snake #dill & wovey rest in peace my darlings #Lysistrata it wasn't your fault #Arachane you got what you deserved tbh #reaper you have my respect forever king #lumina really said kill um with kindness #no but sersiously i love you girl & your 1950's farm girl aesthetic #marcus you did not desserve that & sejanus is sorry & in my heart you guys meet up & become boyfriends in the afterlife #treech you didn't leave much of an impression but at least your hat was cool #bobbin my little germin looking boy #at least you gave Snow a good scare before your demise #coral looks gay like that's a lesbian right there #thg #the hunger games #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes review #thg tbosas #thg tbosbas #tbosas #tbosbas #tbosas review #tbosbas review #thg tbosas review #thg tbosbas review #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds and snakes review #southern gothic is my new fravriote genre #review

[fleetinginfinities]

first ever of these but … the bachelors and my random headcanons/quotes/song lyrics/slices of whatever that fit them 🫶 apologies it doesn’t include everyone, these guys are my favorites and I’m having trouble channeling the others lmao

Sam

- drums his fingers/knuckles on tables, his legs, any surface when he’s anxious or impatient or excited or anticipating something. which, he’s always feeling at least one of the above…so

- his fingers. that’s all

- plays footsie under the table but not in a weird way, in more of a “I literally need to be touching you at all times to ground myself to this present moment and be happy” way

- loves full body contact — huuuge tight hugs, rolling on top of you in bed, pulling you into his chest from behind

- mumbles in his sleep and tosses and turns, constantly reaching for you and pulling you close

- blushes a lot. his cheeks turn the most beautiful peachy color

- talks at the speed of light as his default setting

- speeds when he drives, speeds when he walks, just Does Everything Quickly and with much energy

- is somehow both a morning person and a night owl most of the time

- but when he’s lazy or tired, there’s never been anyone lazier or sleepier

- always answers phone calls on speaker mode

- is unaware of his strength when showing affection sometimes, like an oversized dog

- prominent arm veins. enough said.

- makes you feel so alive. present. his energy is contagious

- there’s not a soul he can’t make friends with

- would absolutely love early/mid 2000s pop punk

- blindingly sunny smile

- beautiful, soft golden hair that he wears messy and literally sticks out every direction but in the hottest way ever

- he’s like the summer solstice. an everlasting day that’s sweet and warm and full of life but also peace. Sam, in all of his chaos, is your peace

- “i’m so in love that I might stop breathing”

- doesn’t ever hold a grudge

- smells like lavender and lemon. no I won’t be taking any feedback with this one

- big fan of flowers

- like, it’s not uncommon for him to show up with a hand-picked bouquet for you he collected on the way over

- could’ve worked in a bakery instead of joja mart and would’ve been much happier. sweet cinnamon roll boy

- is actually the heartthrob of the town

- as sweet and pure as he is, he also has a rebellious side and is often trying to sneak you in his room and toe the line of authority whenever he can

- is quite adventurous and doesn’t really have an ego if he’s bad at things or much fear in general. the results are constant entertainment and occasional catastrophes.

Elliott

- “I dream about you every night now. It’s really quite beautiful”

- is actually strong and built and muscular (totally looks like a red headed Thor in my brain)

- but touches and holds you so gently that it makes you want to cry

- extremely strong jawline

- gives that aloof kind of mysteriousness and quiet confidence that is magnetizing to literally everyone

- doesn’t have a toxically masculine bone in his body

- will talk to you for hours about philosophy, literature, films, art, the meaning of life, etc etc etc

- traces his fingers on your bare skin, lost in thought

- has the most mesmerizing, starry eyes

- being around him makes you feel like you’re living in a dream. everything feels ethereal and hazy

- if Sam is the summer solstice, Elliott is like the peak of autumn, when all of the leaves are at their most colorful and bright just before they fall, and you feel like he’s both the beginning and the ending of something all at once

- as a matter of fact: “is this the end of all the endings?”

- “you showed me colors you know I can’t see with anyone else. you taught me a secret language I can’t speak with anyone else”

- loving him is the most intense, passionate experience of your life

- he would a b s o l u t e l y be the one that got away if you split up

- big fan of candles and crackling log fireplaces

- really enjoys a good row in his boat in the cool, dewy mornings and his back muscles show it

- his emotional intelligence is unmatched. you’ll never meet a more well-adjusted man

- romanticizes life in only the way a writer can

- isn’t just all depth and somber. also isn’t all pizazz and flamboyance. actually has a great sense of humor as a secret third thing

Sebastian

- despite how much he closes himself off at first, you feel an instant connection with him. you just understand him innately. and you feel like he gets you, too

- downplays how smart he really is

- genuinely loves to let everyone else shine. loves that Sam commands all the attention in the room. loves watching others praise you.

- is never competitive with anyone else and absolutely loves when the people around him win. the most supportive person ever

- really has a soft spot for animals

- incredibly intuitive. can read your mind like a book and anticipate your needs

- if he loves you, there is not another person on earth that would ever catch his attention or temptation. 1000% the most loyal boy

- “he looks up grinning like a devil”

- motorcycle rides in the city late at night when it’s raining

- sometimes doing something reckless is the only way that makes him feel alive

- in other words, he’s a closet adrenaline junkie

- can absolutely rival Elliott in terms of being the most romantic with his words sometimes — though it’s few and far between, he will never stop telling you that you’re the first person that he ever did, well, basically *anything* with and how special you are to him and how you’re his one and only

Alex

- it takes a special person to command his attention, he has always had fleeting attractions but he has never felt for anyone what he feels for you

- is absolutely a great person to go to with any problem. he has a clear and straightforward answer or solution

- is the number one person you want to be around if you just want someone genuinely uplifting to spend time with

- *always* notices physical changes and gives fantastic compliments

- is absolutely the dude who keeps his friend group together well into adulthood and middle age and beyond. he’s the one planning beach days, weekend recreational sports and activities, cooking out or tailgating on game days, inviting you for a bite to eat at the saloon if he hasn’t seen you in awhile, etc.

- genuinely loves a good romance or romcom as much as he loves the newest action movie

- fantastic with kids

- is very committed to you from the start

- will go to great lengths to maintain a happy and healthy and successful relationship. it’s the athlete determination in him

- has quite good taste in aesthetics. definitely has an opinion about fashion, home decor, etc

- has perfect teeth and a beautiful complexion in my mind

#stardew valley #stardew valley x reader #sdv #sdv elliott #sdv sam #sdv sebastian #yo what is with all the new formatting options here #they’re a Very Good Thing dont get me wrong #but I haven’t regularly used this site since like 2017 #relearning it as we go!

[littlelesbianintern]

Cynthia’s Coming Out Scene

I want to start with the fact that I think this is one of the best coming out scenes I’ve ever watched which considering this is a show set in the 50s is an incredible feat. This scene has me sobbing and Ari’s acting was incredible.

To be honest the way this show has represented queerness has been brilliant throughout the season. I love how the show utilises symbolism, but in particular the motif of queer people being able to have conversation about queerness without expressing it out loud is especially impactful - Cynthia/Lydia’s “you’re scared” scenes, the rehearsals, the fall dance, the conversation between Cynthia and Shy Guy. All of these moments convey deeper conversations than their literal words and to have this culminate in Cynthia not even being able to voice their identity/feelings out loud is genius because it’s such a universal experience for queer people.

Ari’s acting was phenomenal, literally just incredible. That moment before Cynthia hands the note to Nancy, relishing what she sees as the last moments of their friendship before Nancy begins to look at her differently? The grip on the note before letting Nancy eventually take it? The absolute look of fear as Nancy reads it? The gut-wrenching sob as she reads Nancy’s response, overcome with pure fucking relief? STUNNING. I’ve never felt to moved or seen. Give Ari their flowers because I can’t express enough how amazing their acting has been this season.

Also as much as I would like to know what the note says, I kind of love that we don’t? Like it remains this beautiful inside joke/moment between just Nancy and Cynthia. Having said that, I hope it says something like “rate the kiss out of ten” in a recall to Nancy loving to rank how good people are at kissing.

ON THAT NOTE NANCY NAKAGAWA IS THE ALLY OF THE YEAR. I love that she picked up immediately that Cynthia’s anger wasn’t entirely about her relationship with Potato, because whilst Cynthia definitely is angry about Nancy’s attitude, a little more of it was maybe some slight jealousy on Cynthia’s part? Nancy and Potato as a straight couple (I have my own head cannons but I digress) can outwardly express affection for each other but Nancy chooses to reject this. For Cynthia this must be incredibly frustrating, because as Lydia’s experience proves, queer relationship don’t have the same privilege, but Nancy takes it for granted. But for someone who said themselves that they weren’t great at listening, Nancy’s response to Cynthia, whatever it was, was perfect. And furthermore, she wasn’t just there to listen, but to actively turn up and support Cynthia in repairing her relationship with Lydia. Honestly just all of episode 10 was Nancy being an icon for a solid 55 minutes.

I also love the way that Lydia’s previous relationship experience adds a deeper layer to her relationship with Cynthia. I already kind of figured this would be the case based on the lyrics from Merely Players (“i know just what you’re feeling I’ve had that dream before”) and her conversation with Cynthia as to how school productions usually goes kind of read to me like she’s had queer relationships before. But it really reinforces how much Lydia likes Cynthia, to the point where she is willing to put her heart on the line again even though she knows how this might go.

Finally, although we don’t know whether the show will be renewed or not, the fact that the season ended with happy lesbians? Revolutionary. I’m going to be devastated if this becomes another sapphic show that’s cancelled, but I have a little peace of mind knowing that for once the lesbian couple hasn’t been left on a cliffhanger with no resolution. The reunion between Cynthia and Lydia was so lovely and Ari’s voice ? Holy shit dude!!!!!! They’re incredible. And the symbolism with the hall of mirrors, showing Cynthia giving every version of herself to Lydia? Amazing! So yeah, thank you Rise of the Pink Ladies for finally giving us some much needed portrayals of queerness with a happy ending, especially considering the context the show is set in.

#rise of the pink ladies #grease rise of the pink ladies #grease #rotpl #grease 2 #grease: rise of the pink ladies #grease rotpl #olivia valdovinos #cynthia zdunowski #jane facciano #nancy nakagawa #lydia rotpl #cynthia x lydia #RENEW RISE OF THE PINK LADIES