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lovejosephquinn · 11 months

Note

i dare you to write all the smut yes please thank you

Summary: What would happen if meeting Joe turned out to be not just your average experience? What if you caught his eye in more ways than one?

This is completely delusional but we can dream right?

Taglist: @eddiemunson-mylove @choke-me-eddie @josephfakingquinn @ali-r3n @chrissymjstan @strangerthingssimps-blog @tlclick73 @whoscamila @figmentofquinn @musicoverall @geekyfifi @emilyslutface @live-love-be-unique @shizlac @andrearose89 @flipflisssobsessions @sadbitchfangirl @aol19 @punchdrunkpeach @eddies-puppet @tlclick73

Under 18's DNI. Word Count: 7.2k

In a normal world, what really happens after meeting a celebrity or just plainly someone you've been longing to meet at a comic con event? usually nothing. You will go about your life again with the memory of an amazing day; but what happens when that nothing becomes something? Surely not you, it's never you.

You were sure meeting Joseph Quinn was to be the best day of your life, it had been a long time coming since you'd booked the tickets around 4 months back, planning your trip and making your way to Philadelphia for the weekend to finally make your wish come true. It was better than you had ever expected it to be, busy? Extremely. It was even a wonder at all that this weekend had happened since with what happened with Joe almost not being able to get over to the states but low and behold, everything went ahead as planned, even if it was just the one day.

Upon glancing over whilst queuing for your photo op, the whole experience was something beyond what you had ever imagined, the nerves were irresistibly nauseating, your stomach containing mad butterflies that flipped in different directions making sure the anxiety and excitement remained. You were at least third in front of the line when you hit the corner of the curtain where Joe's part was secured off from anyone else able to take images of their own. You peeped over the person in front of you to get a better look in; and there he was.

Dressed all in black, a leather jacket slung over his shoulder where he was clearly getting to warm to keep it on, a plain black t-shirt tucked into some straight black jeans, a belt to match and the cute little black boot which smartened up his outfit. It was one of the first time's you had witnessed his hair in such a style, clearly growing it out for his next role, it almost didn't look like Joe at all since you were used to the way he styled it back normally. It looked undeniably adorable, the way the curls were tamed around the front of his forehead yet wild and fluffy at the back. Hat hair. That was the only option as to why it wasn't at it's full fuzzy capacity. It was a rare sight to see him dressed so laid back, almost casual, but you were eating it up and so was every other person stood in line with the same view in tow. If it weren't for you being stood on your tip toes, you wouldn't have noticed the way he glanced twice, double taking the image of you he could just about see. You were so lost in thought, your feet took you forward but your brain was trained on the man you were about to see, scared to death but more exhilarated than anything.

Your eyes had averted to the floor when you felt a tap on your shoulder. You looked around to the person almost startled like a rabbit in headlights when they ushered you out of your thoughts to the sight of nobody in front of you. Joe sticking his arm out toward you, smiling like you had always seen on pictures previously. You took a deep breath and wandered over, your eyes locked on one another, the big doe eyes you had been dreaming about were real, burning through your eyes and into your soul.

"Hi there beautiful." You heard it as a whisper, but your pretty sure that every fibre in your being was concentrating on not making an utter tit of yourself. Had you heard those three words? Absolutely. Were you speechless? Indefinitely.

"Hi there handsome." No. No. No. Joe took a hold of your hand, placing it around his stomach as he gripped his over the course of your forearm, his thumb stroking over you slightly, making your breath hitch as he held you quite tightly toward him. Smiling the least awkward you felt you could manage, the camera flashed and you were let go. You moved back, losing your step and almost falling like someone would be behind you to catch you, just as you could regain your balance, Joe's hands came to hold you up once more, saving you from the embarrassment of what could have been you on the floor paralysed with nerves.

"You okay?" He poked his tongue out to the side of his upper lip, glancing at you and giving you the once over, you swore you watched him double take you once more as if he were planting a mental image of you in his brain for later.

"I'm good, thank you Joseph." You muttered, a small nod and a reassuring smile back sent Joe to pull you in for one last hug. You melted into a puddle, your body was there but everything inside of you had turned to mush. You giggled hideously in his arms. Not like you.

"Please. Call me Joe." He winked at you. "See you later yeah?" You made no attempt to speak in case you made an even bigger fool of yourself walking away, turning back to find his eyes still staring over at you whilst he put his arm out to the next person, you made a subtle wave as you watched Joe take a massive sigh of what was either relief that you didn't make yourself look the con's idiot or to see you leave. Either way, your meet was over and it would be a long wait to meet him again in the next few hours for your autograph. You headed over to grab your picture from the collection point, thanking the staff member who handed it to you.

You moved yourself over to a corner where you didn't dare look at it until you were at least close to a wall where you felt safer, your brain imagining in the worst case scenario that after this encounter, you might pass out. It beat being stood in the middle of everyone and everything where you could draw attention to yourself. As you looked down, the photo was absolutely perfect, Joe looked incredible. You were mediocre of course, not looking bad but the angle was obviously right and a professional camera and lighting helped your case. If you weren't mistaken, you looked quite good together, the fact that you were deranged for even having that thought cross your mind was beyond you, maybe you'd keep that thought to yourself.

Needless to say, not just from the picture you couldn't stop looking at, you couldn't quite deter the image of him away from your brain, the way he'd looked at you in clear daylight so differently to what you had seen before. Was it just your mind playing tricks on you? You know what you saw and to you and everyone else around you if they had noticed, it was not a normal look. How many other girls had he called beautiful? How many other's had he pulled in to a hug when the photo op is meant to only last milliseconds, yours felt like forever; you certainly wished it could have continued but you would have to wait and see if you were delusional enough to see if he was to remember you.

They say time flies when you're having fun but at this point in time you have switched the butterflies in your stomach for pure vomit like symptoms, the anxiety of seeing him again is heart wrenching, not to the point where people are just excited, you just needed to know if what you witnessed back at the photo op was correct.

After a toilet break, a silent pep talk in the mirror, touching up your hair and make up to what you thought was a nice, natural level, you headed out towards the part of the building where the autographs were being held. The announcement came over the speakers letting people know that were in the selected category where to begin queuing. You twiddled your thumbs, trying to stare down at your phone whilst you waited, the anxiety filling your guts with dread. After at least a half an hour wait, you were almost to the front and you could just about make out Joe's voice which was just around the corner. The sounds of laughing, borderline awkward conversation's coming from the other fans and Joe reassuring people it's okay to be nervous and that he's just as nervous as they are. You wondered if he'd looked at them the same way he had previously glanced at you before. Probably. You were the last to join the queue so you wondered if you would get a moment longer than what other's had with him.

You selected your picture to be signed, stating your name to his team working relentlessly to make sure everything was going smoothly. Just as Joe's conversation was being put to a close with the girl in front of you, his eyes shot straight to yours, the eye contact back, the descriptive reference of burning through your soul apparent. There were now inches between you as your picture was passed to Joe along with your name.

"Hello again." Joe smiled in such a confident way that threw you straight off guard. You smiled back trying to mask every ounce of apprehension you were feeling at this moment in time.

"Hi Joe."

"Y/N, the beautiful girl has a name." His teeth were on show this time, his tongue poking out as he looked down to sign your picture, taking it upon himself to fold a part of the corner and covering it like a school child not wanting anyone to see their work in fright of it being copied. You thanked him when he handed it over to you.

"This is for you, don't be a stranger." He winked at you again. This had gone completely different to what you thought, the mysterious note was something you were sure you had never seen him do before when you had watched previous fan encounters. Sure, you'd not made an effort to make much conversation, purely because the people around him were eyeing you up more than likely because they were ready for their breaks.

His hand came to rest on yours that was leaning against the table and as you were about to turn away, he cleared his throat. "I mean it." Another wink. Shit. Maybe all you were imagining was turning out to be real. Removing yourself from the clear tension between the two of you, you didn't look back to see if he was still watching you, it was obvious he was because you could feel those bush baby eyes digging into the back of your head, possibly even all the way down your back.

Finding your corner again, you pushed yourself against the wall, slowly slipping down it to plant yourself firmly on your bum, knees almost up to your chest, you were ready to find out what he had written on the back of your autographed photo. To anyone else, the front just looked like anybody else's regular experience as you turned the creased corner over where he had made sure it sat straight back up when he handed it to you, eleven digits stood proud in the gold sharpie ink. Surely. Fucking. Not. Joseph Quinn. THE Joseph Quinn had given you his number, without a care in the world. Was this real or was it a stupid joke just to play around with you. Why would he even do such a thing? Pick you out of the several hundreds of people he's met today and give such a personal thing out to someone he doesn't even know. It explained a lot though, his voice replayed over and over in your head.

"Don't be a stranger." You gasped. He did say that. "I mean it." It was fully intentional and you were fully motivated to find out if this was actually real, you pinched yourself a couple of times to make sure you wouldn't wake up, to give yourself the up most reassurance that this wasn't a dream and it had actually happened. It didn't even matter anymore that you had just met your celebrity crush, or the guy who's CV you know like the back of your hand. It was about a really attractive human being had quite obviously took a liking to you and made the choice to take a chance in hearing from you again; after all this isn't something that happens every day, if at all.

You set your things down next to you and pulled out your phone, were you being too eager to text the number straight away? Yes. A phone number is there to be texted though, that is the whole point of them is it not? You folded the crease over again and eyed the number, typing it slowly into your add contact option, saving it immediately so that your anxiety of a random number wouldn't startle you if he had replied and you had completely forgotten. Who were you kidding, you would never forget this.

You: 'Hi it's Y/N. I didn't expect your note to be this...'

Well done you. Clear straight to the point and less embarrassing if it had turned out that he had given you a false number. You looked away as your thumb tapped against the send button, you heard the little swipe which meant it had sent and then a few seconds later, delivered. Glancing back down, the read sign almost made you throw up over your phone. The little bubble in the left hand corner appeared. Double fucking fuck.

Joe: 'I'm glad you didn't think I was weird for doing it. There's just something about you, figured I'd take my chances and if you were a psycho it's easy to get blocked nowadays ;)'

You bit down on your lip. It's him. It's actually Joe. Your fingers started tapping furiously to reply.

You: 'Well I assure you I'm not and there's nothing that special about me I promise. Maybe you're the crazy one Joe :)'

Joe: 'I guess I am crazy for giving a fan (if that's what you are) my number, but make sure I don't regret it. In short, what are you doing later?'

THIS IS NOT REAL LIFE. How are you even messaging Joe like you've known him years or met him like he's just a regular person walking about the street. He's fucking famous and it's a dangerous game for you to play, something you will have to keep to yourself for a long time.

You: 'Of course I'm a fan, but you're also a human being so it's not weird I guess. Nothing much, got a couple more days here so I'll be sitting in my hotel tonight and having a drink.'

Joe: 'Want some company?'

YES. YES. YES. YES. YES. The devil on your shoulder was practically slapping you across the face, screaming at you to not decline this offer.

You: 'Sure. I'll send you my location later.'

You were left on read after the last reply, you were guessing he had gotten busy for the best part. Staring at your phone for the next fifteen minutes or so with no reply was slightly disheartening but you had to remember outside all of this, the man was still at work. Outside all of that, this was becoming personal.

You'd left through the nearest exit you could find, hoping to get back to the hotel and get changed into something a little more flattering than your smart casual comfortable outfit that you had chose to adorn to meet Joe today. Was this considered a date? You were in way over your head, it was just two strangers meeting for a drink and getting to know one another. As Joe had said, maybe he was the weird one for insinuating that you would even want to see him again, be it that way or seeing him through a comic con. You were trying to convince yourself that this was going to be nothing, just a friendly, casual and laid back interaction between two people over a drink or two.

You sent Joe your location and he had let you know he'll be by the hotel around 8pm and to meet wherever the bar is. You threw everything out of your neatly packed suitcase onto the bed, only having took the bare minimum out of what you had decided to wear to bed the night before and today. Scratching your way through the pile of outfit options you had packed, you unearthed your old faithful chest revealing, black lace trimmed dress, you know; just in case. Not just in case you were to be spending the evening with Joe, but just in case you were to go anywhere nice in Philadelphia and you needed a more expensive looking option.

You started your look again, wiping off all of your make up and taking a shower, counting down the next couple of hours which would drag until you saw his face again. You blasted music from your phone to put you in a less uneasy mood, to you it was always the answer to play a genre that would make you feel at ease and fully relaxed. Your mind was constantly on him yet it didn't matter because you were too focussed on making yourself look the best you ever had. You thought you'd done that today in meeting him a the Fan Expo, yet this situation was more exclusive and particular, which gave you more ammunition than you needed to go all the way in your look. Slipping the dress in a way to not ruin your hair was a task, but you did it, adding your own little touch and putting on your boots to feel more comfortable really finished off your outfit for you, you glanced at yourself in the mirror as your phone flashed behind you on the bed. You darted over to it faster than you ever thought you could, heart pounding, palms sweating.

Joe: 'I'm almost here love. I hope I've got the right place.'

You: 'There's a thing called google maps Joe ;)'

Joe: 'Well aren't you a smart little egg?'

Oh the banter, the purity, the cheek, the innocence. The Flirting?

You made your way down to the ground floor of the hotel after one final check of yourself, having to mentally slap yourself at biting the skin at the corner of your thumb which was helping you calm your nerves but at the same time making you want to wet yourself in anticipation. Finding your way into the bar which was pretty empty considering how many guests were staying, you were stopped by a security guard who looked at you with sudden intent.

"Bars closed tonight-" He was interrupted by the sound of a chair dragging it's feet against the floor.

"She's with me." Joe.

Well this made complete sense. The man let you through and closed the make shift curtain behind him, leaving you two alone.

"There she is." Joe smiled, offering his hand to give you an admittedly awkward one armed hug.

"Hey. Well this is-"

"Weird? I told you, maybe I am the weird one." You both laughed in unison, he'd already made you feel somewhat at ease and you'd only been stood in his presence for 30 seconds.

"I called the hotel as soon as you let me know where you were and reserved the bar for just the two of us, just so there's no-"

"Interruptions?" You finished his sentence for him which made him smile, a little nod came your way. "Exactly." He finished.

Joe was still wearing the same outfit from today, his hair looked a little more messy than before, he'd clearly freshened himself up before coming to meet you too, an extremely telling first impression to you that he cares about his appearance, though you already knew that.

"What do you want to drink?" Joe said.

"Whatever you're having."

"Double vodka martini's it is then."

"Perfect!" You sat down in the quietest part of the room, away from the eye of the bar and prying stuff wanting to hear and know what was going on between you two.

"A girl after my own heart." He chuckled, a lowish tone which brought the butterflies straight back flipping around your stomach at the very same pace they were doing this very morning.

Joe came back shortly with the drinks, you clinked them together in a cheers and sipped in unison, putting them down onto the table as you turned to each other. There was the burning look again. His eyes were mesmerising, a deep pool of chocolatey brown that you could get lost in for days. He ushered his leather jacket off of his shoulders, putting it the other side of him, his skin now clear as day and only centimetres away from you.

"So did you have fun today?" Joe asked politely, you guessed it was only right he got the awkward questions out of the way first.

"Yeah was amazing. You have a lot of time and patience for what you do, it's incredible to see." You replied.

"It's part of my job, it's fucking exhausting don't get me wrong, but it's great to meet people. Wouldn't of met this pretty girl otherwise would I?" Joe nudged his arm to yours, giving you a side smirk as he took another drink, clearly regretting his cringeworthy reply.

"Oh yeah, what's her name?"

Joe quickly caught onto your sarcasm, nudging you harder this time so your body flung itself sideways.

"Oh. Me?"

"Obviously." Joe rolled his eyes, turning his head to face the room but keeping his peripheral vision attached to you always so he could still read your reaction.

"Do you do this often?"

"What the events?" Joe shot a look back at you, furrowing his brow, your eyes faltering to his lips as his tongue poked out to wet them, you quickly had to regain your composure so that he didn't notice.

"Duh." You shook your head. "Give random girls your number in this way?"

"You're the first." Joe shrugged his shoulders.

"I'm honoured."

"It is I who should be honoured darling."

You got along like a house on fire. Joe didn't share much about his personal life, but the things you did come to learn just proved how much of a normal guy he still was at heart. You had slowly forgotten outside of this natural setting who he was, that he was just a guy you were meeting for a drink on a random Sunday evening. You talked each others ears off, the more you had to drink, the more you would eventually get out of him, something inside of him still remained reserved and you didn't entirely mind that, but he was just as intrigued to find out about you, who you were and what your deal was.

A few drinks was never the term, it turned into a table full of empty glasses, you were swaying by this point, your head full of Martini and shots of tequila, it had turned into a two man party more than anything and it certainly gave you the confidence if not Joe also to get a little bit more comfortable with one another. You had complained you were cold, digging the old chestnut out to see if he was going to be gentleman about it, you didn't even have to say anything before he noticed and offered you ahis jacket, you were now sporting the whole attire, leather and lace. The term was meaningful of the two together, a generous and intimacy of give and take. It was over sized, perfect to fit over your shoulders and the best of all? It smelt of Joe, something extremely distinctive of him which you would make sure your nostrils engulphed enough of so you could remember it forever.

"It's getting late." You muttered.

"How old are you?" Joe laughed, downing the last of his drink.

"Shut up, I mean, for you."

"Trying to get rid of me darling?" Joe leant closer into you, putting his arm around you trying to be as distinct about it as possible.

"Never."

"That's what I thought."

"The bars closing though, it's almost midnight."

"We can go talk in your room for a while if you like then I can sober up a little so my walk back to my hotel isn't so traitorous." Joe offered, the puppy dog eyes back in full force as if he was the one that didn't want to go, it was obvious that he was having as great of a time as you were, a glorious win for you indeed.

"Remember what I said about google-"

"Maps? I'll still get lost." You rolled your eyes then returned them straight to Joe, fluttering your eyelashes as best as you could.

"Come on then." You slipped out of the chair as Joe followed behind you through the curtain, bowing down in an attempt not to be seen, yet there was nobody around.

"What are we playing detectives now?" You laughed.

Joe caught up almost catching his feet on your heals as you fell forward, his arms wrapping themselves around your waist as he pulled you up into him, lifting you off the ground slightly making you squeal out loud.

"Yes I've got her, I've got the criminal."

The grip he had on you was strong but you felt unusually safe. To say it was in the arms of a stranger who wasn't really a stranger because you had known of him for over a year.

"Joe! Put me down!" You giggled.

"Never." Joe put your feet to the ground, you didn't touch gravity long enough before he swivelled you around like a rag doll, hoisting you back up into the air, your legs automatically wrapping around Joe's hips to cling to him. Your faces were but mere inches away from one another as you stopped in your tracks, staring at one another intimately, not wanting to be the first to look away. Joe leant forward to push the button for the elevator to open, taking you both in and leaning again, looking to you for guidance. "Third floor please sir." You gave the same look he had been ushering towards you all day and all of a sudden Joe looked like he was the one who was about to melt.

"Yes ma'am." He pushed the button and the doors closed. A few seconds later, the noise announced you were at your room's floor, and out he took you through the corridor.

"Are you sober enough to find the number twelve?" Joe squeezed your body against him a little more in an effort to make you squeal again, but you held your breath and only a little whimper came out.

"What was that little noise?" He gasped.

"The sound of you squeezing the life out of a poor helpless woman." You tilted your head to the side, raising an eyebrow and making him laugh at his poor effort to flirt with you.

You got to your door, Joe still had you in his arms forgetting quickly that you needed to get your key card out of your bag to get you inside.

"Can you put me down now?" You smirked and he looked extremely forlorn for a moment to not be able to touch you. "I need to get my key."

"Oh shit, yeah." He chuckled, settling you down and steadying you so that your legs didn't turn into jelly too quickly before being left alone. You proceeded to pull out your key card, scan it and open the door.

"Age before beauty." You pushed the door even further ajar and gestured for Joe to go through, it was plain to see that Joe loved the way you gave back the banter that he dished out to you, he'd told you after the first few drinks that it was one of his favourite traits in a woman's personality which gave you further fuel to continue what he seemed to adore.

You took off your shoes as soon as you closed the door behind you, Joe mirrored your move doing the same in respect for not getting your sheets dirty when he eventually got onto the bed. You kept his jacket on, hugging it to your chest as you moved to the left side propping yourself up against the pillow and patting onto the right side of the mattress.

"You joining me?" You asked.

"Thought I'd wait for your permission. Not everyday a beautiful girl such as yourselves asks me to lay with her."

"Forgot we were in the 18th century Joe." He did a run, hop, skip and a jump, leaping onto the bed making himself and you bounce upward, laying to the side and propping himself up on his elbow, he pursed his lips together in a silly little smile.

"You're such a weirdo." You scrunched your face together in a false look of anguish.

"I guess that makes two of us." Joe etched closer to you and in turn it made you move further down, so your faces were just about parallel. Instead, you faced up toward the ceiling so it didn't seem like a desperate attempt of you making a move.

"Am I-" Joe paused.

"Are you?" You tried to make him continue as you looked over to him deeply sighing and looking down to focus on the sheets.

"Am I weird for wanting to-"

"To what?" You laughed. "Spit it out."

"To kiss you." You felt your lungs give way in hearing those three words come out of Joe's mouth. You turned onto your side, bringing yourself even closer to let him know that you were absolutely into it. Your faces fell into a slow motion blur, hearts pounding together, skin touching skin as your hand came to settle on his side and his came up to cup your cheek.

"Extremely." Joe closed the gap, your lips magnetically forced together as one, that was until he moved back slightly to see if you were okay. "Weird." You whispered, a smile appearing on both of your faces as he brought himself back to kiss you once more. It was like nothing you had ever experienced, a kiss meaning so much to someone you knew so little. It deepened quickly, Joe pushing you back slowly so you laid onto your back so he could hover over you to engage a deeper, more forceful kiss. It became more open mouthed as the sound of crashing lips smacking together became more prominent, his hand staying put against your jawline, fingers stroking themselves slightly through your hair. Your arms were now wrapped around his neck, in a strong enough attempt to not let him go anywhere other than where he was right now. His tongue pressed against your bottom lip and you tilted your head to the side, pushing your own muscle against his, they danced together perfectly as your mouths moved, the room temperature was soaring from the feeling of eroticism and how turned on you were becoming from the way Joe kissed you.

The same whimper erupted from your vocal chords and down Joe's throat making him shiver a little, opening your eyes at practically the same moment in realisation that this was getting hot and heavy fast. Joe pulled back, looking down at you, eyes darkening with intent and a thousand words that were left unsaid.

"You're so beautiful." Joe moved his hand to run his fingers fully through your hair, making their way down your body, his eyes following right up to your stomach where he stopped in his tracks.

"Please. Carry on." You bit down on your lip, you were watching exactly where he had stopped himself.

"You don't have to ask me twice love." Joe uttered, his hand slipping under your dress which had hitched it's way up your waist a little too much revealing your underwear right in his bee line. His fingers reached and successfully traced the outline of the cotton, lips now pressed against your neck in an obvious attempt to get the noises he's longing to hear out of you. With a soft press directly between his finger tips, the material and your clit, you feel a slight force as he puts pressure to rub over it at an agonising pace.

"Oh god." You moan. You fully moan. Joe's instant reaction was to let out his own little version of one, making you whimper more, pushing your hips up as a silent beg for him to carry on; to create more tension.

"Your moans are so sexy, fuck." You hear him mumble against your neck, his tongue slowly massaging down a soft spot at the side of your neck, his teeth gripping to your skin ever so slightly, nibbling harder the more noise you create.

"I need- I need-"

Joe pricked his eyes upward to watch you begin to fall apart under such minimal contact. "You need?" He was clearly saying it in a reflection of your cheek earlier on.

"Rub my clit."

"A little louder, I didn't hear you say please?"

"Please Joe, Please!" You cry out. His fingers immediately push themselves under the side and close the space letting him feel the wetness you're already creating rather quickly.

"Shit you're so wet." His fingers make a hard effort to begin rubbing vigorously at you, your legs making every attempt to close tightly from the sensitivity of lack of physical touch.

"What do you think you're doing?" Joe sat up in quick time, bringing himself between your thighs, keeping you prised apart so that you couldn't interrupt what he'd began. "Maybe they could be a little wetter." Joe hummed, holding his index and middle finger in the air. Your eyes gazed upon the thickness of his digits, making your cunt pulsate at the very thought of them doing these naughty things to you. "Huh?" You were so wet a moment ago, what does he possibly mean by that?

Before you knew it, Joe was towered over you, pushing said fingers to your lips. "Care to help me?" You opened your mouth and you tasted yourself on the tips of his fingers almost instantly, you wrapped your lips around them as he pushed them in further, letting you suck away. Pulling them out and past your lips with a pop, Joe wasted no time in opening your legs further and then immediately teasing your hole, rubbing around the outside of it slowly.

"You want these?" He wiggled them against you, making you squirm.

"I need them." You sounded desperate and you couldn't care less.

He answered your prayers not long after, inserting his nicely lubricated fingers inside of you, not giving you any room to adjust, making sure he fucked you good with them, they almost tapped at your cervix with how deep he pushed forward, his fist bashing against your slit. He curled them upward, hitting spots you didn't know existed inside of you, making the entirety of your body shake. "God, if I make you feel this good with my fingers, imagine how good you would feel with my cock inside of you." Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at the thought, a loud bellow of a moan escaping you from the fantasy of being fucked by this gorgeous being. You brought yourself down to earth, your brain being over taken with feral thoughts, trying in a huge attempt to barter an innocent threat his way. "You think you're up for the challenge?" You snarled.

"I don't need challenging, I know you'll fucking love it darling." Oh so he was confident, that made you feel even more turned on. The knot in your stomach tightened ever so slightly more when you felt a third finger fill you, he twisted his wrist around so he could fasten the pace, taking his spare hand to rub aggressively. You chanted his name several times, arching your back when your orgasm washed over you in the blink of an eye. "Yes, yes, yes!" Joe moaned out, feeling your pussy clench around his fingers as you released hard, your whole body going from stiff to jelly in a second. Joe was such a different person in the bedroom, he was out for serving a purpose and it was so clear he loved to satisfy. He knew exactly how to satisfy.

Joe was already undoing his belt and struggling out of his jeans and boxers before you could even say a word, your breathing coming back to a steady flow made you lose all ability to speak when you witnessed what he was packing. Not too big, just above average, thick and uncut, his tip shining with pre-cum from the excitement of pleasing you.

"About this challenge."

"I-I thought you didn't need c-challenging." Your body was still spasming from the orgasm, you could barely talk but you managed to snap back at this silly remark.

"I don't."

"Fuck me then."

Joe sat up on his knees stroking his fist over his cock, pumping it a couple of times watching you with wide eyes, the brown in them replaced with purely dilated pupils. "Please?"

"Fuck me." Joe hoisted your legs over his shoulders, hovering his cock at your entrance with a wicked smirk, clearing his breath to help you use your manners. "Please." You rolled your eyes.

"I'll roll them back for you if you carry on doing that." Joe slammed himself inside of you, stretching your tight hole and making you inhale a sharp breath. The smirk remained on his face as he adjusted himself, inch by inch being thrusted slowly out and then back in again.

"Your pussy feels so good, I might not last long. Fuck."

He couldn't help but begin to go hard straight away, feeling every part of the inside of you contracting around him, making moans fly out everywhere, bouncing off every wall of the hotel room. He clutched his hands to your thighs, keeping you at an angle which got the most noise out of you, rutting his hips back and fourth, balls slapping against your ass. His cock fucked into you so well that you felt another orgasm creeping up on you in record time, the power he had over you was second to none and he knew it. "Stop tensing or I'll cum." Joe growled. It gave fuelled the fire in you to keep clenching around him more and more. "You're such a naughty girl." He slammed into you hard, forcing a squeal right from the depths of your lungs. "Yes Y/N. Yes baby. That's it." You came all over his cock, tears seeping from the corner of your eyes from the over stimulation.

Joe pulled out at last minute, fisting his cock ferociously as his seed propelled out of him fast, his head fell back, lips parted as his own release flushed over him. You could see his chest rising and falling through his black t-shirt, his hand covered and your stomach and part of your dress now concealed in cum. Joe hopped off the bed and jogged into the bathroom to fetch something to clean you up, rushing out and throwing you a towel over to get off what you could.

"Challenge complete." Joe winked at you and you rolled your eyes again. "I told you to pack that in."

You stuck your tongue out at him childishly making him laugh. Joe fell to the side of you, still slightly out of breath from the antics that occurred just a moment ago. You threw the towel to the floor, disappearing into the bathroom for a moment to gloat to yourself. What the fuck, how the fuck and why the fuck? You were gleaming at yourself in the mirror, every nerve completely rid of now you were at this point. Today had undoubtedly been the greatest day of your life, but what was next? Would this just be a one night stand?

Slipping out of your messed up dress, you came back out of the bathroom and witnessed an obviously exhausted Joe's eyes struggling to stay open. "You staying here?" You tilted your head to the side as you watched a startled Joe look over at you, his brown eyes wide in a bizarre panic and back to their normal stature of beauty from the darkness that had previously took over them.

"If that's okay with you?" You both shared a sweet smile. "Of course."

You climbed into bed, Joe kicked his legs so that the sheets went downward so he could make a half arsed effort to take his t-shirt off and grab a hold of the sheets to pull over him. You turned onto your side facing away from him. "Goodnight then." You reached up to the switch beside the bed, turning out the light and then getting yourself into a comfortable enough position to get to sleep. You felt the shuffling of Joe coming closer, putting his arm over you as he adopted the part of big spoon, bringing you closer to his body. "Goodnight beautiful."

As the morning light seeped through the tiny gap in the curtains where you hadn't closed them properly, you woke slowly, your eyes peaking open as you turned over to face the other side of the bed, you were alone. Joe was gone. You called out his name to see if he was in the bathroom, to no avail, his clothes were gone from the side of the bed. You got out quickly, collecting your phone from your bag. It was past 9am and a little further down was a message from him; at least he hadn't completely ghosted you.

Joe: 'I didn't want to wake you beautiful, but I had to go to get to a meeting with my agent. I don't want this to be a one time thing. I want to see you again. I clearly made the right decision yesterday. Sorry, hope you understand.'

Your heart went from aching to melting in a millisecond.

'I clearly made the right decision'

You read it over and over again, smiling from ear to ear. Joe wasn't just some famous guy you crushed over now, he was plainly just a person you really wanted to know, you didn't care about his status, his fame or anything else but the real him and you were adamant that you would make it happen, even if you just remained friends. Who were you kidding, that's not an option.

You: 'That's okay. I thought you'd ran away. Have a great day. I'm leaving in two days so we haven't got long.'

Joe: 'I'll be back in a few hours. Get ready and we'll go get some food together. Let's make the most of the time we have.'

It's such a shame that it could end so quickly, with Joe's travelling and your normal life probably able to get in the way. But as he said, making the most of the time you do have together is the perfect answer, you were obviously on the same page and it felt so good to mutually agree that you were evidently into one another, you'd slept together for goodness sake. Focussing on the present was your main priority, who knows what the future may hold.

#joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn fluff #joseph quinn angst #joseph quinn x reader

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twojackals · 10 months

Text

It starts at the top

Rev. Dr. Tamara Siuda is a good person who I admire. I consider her a mentor and I probably always will to some degree. She is a skilled Egyptologist, a talented divination professional, a beloved spiritual leader (even still to me now, that remains true), and I dare say under different circumstances she'd be easily considered a friend -- the problem is, no one these days has access to Tamara Siuda long enough to be her friend -- but what's worse is that in, my opinion, no one has enough access to Tamara Siuda to be her devotee, either.

And that is definitely one of the big reasons behind my dropping down from Shemsu-Ankh to Remetj.

Let's roll back for a second though.

Rev. Dr. Tamara Siuda is the creator of Kemetic Orthodoxy (not Kemeticism, but Kemetic Orthodoxy in specific. She is a truly beloved spiritual leader, and the self-proclaimed incarnation of the Kingly Ka (a spiritual component linking all Pharonic Kemet rulers, aka Pharaohs). She had a calling, and a vision, and she did everything she could to bring those ideas and visions to fruition. Enter Kemetic Orthodoxy.

I arrived in the House late 2000. The year 2000 was a different time: Some people like me will tell you the old days were the better days, and we really do mean it; however, it doesn't come without its caveats. We were smaller back then, and that isn't something I deny to be an easier situation. With a smaller community size, came differences. Much different, in fact. So different, it may have well been an entirely different religion in a lot of ways, not in belief structure, but in access to the people most important to be the guiding lights of the path itself, and interaction with Hemet (a word conveying a type of royalty), or Rev. Dr. Tamara Siuda, was not at all infrequent.

Having an actual human relationship with Rev. Dr. Siuda back then wasn't a difficult task, and it is what I remember most fondly about "the old days", as it were.

Today, you can literally go months without ever seeing Hemet in any accessible KO location. It's strange because I think I didn't notice it for a long time, and only began to realize the extent of this isolation / disconnection for myself when I first joined her Patreon server. While I had spent the 3+ years (4 come Wep Ronpet) since re-joining the temple wondering "where is Hemet in all of this these days" as her presence grew ever more scant, joining her Patreon would be a refreshing surprise, because basically: there she is. It's not terribly difficult to touch base with her when you're on her Patreon Discord or in one of her Patreon programs, and that shook my world a bit more than I thought it would. To the point where it became one of the reasons I pulled out of the same program after being in it for only a very short amount of time.

Where was Hemet? Well she was there, for anyone who was willing to pay for it at least, and that bothered me to my very core. To be extremely clear, I do not believe she means it to look this way. I do not believe it is her intention for things to be this way, but as per our capitalistic society, maybe that's just the way it needs to be.

That sent me spiraling back into my memories, some more recent than others. We had for years disavowed the idea of a "paywall" inside Kemetic Orthodoxy, for example. Even the old mailing list which was a "Donate $5 and get access to extra stuff!" was a source of disdain: People considered that "tiered access", though I think the donation aspect still exists but not held in perpetuity or the like (you donate once, no one notices if you never donate again). But today, the quality of what you get is no longer there anyway, even for $5. I suppose that is because holding anything back "just for donors" brings that "tiered access" problem back. Today, the list you are subscribed to is nothing but a regurgitation of some Daybook content, and it appears to be queued up robotically with absolutely no customization.

It's funny because if you read what the list is meant to provide, it is that Daybook content as well as (quote) "hymns, prayers, and other tidbits provided by Hemet (AUS)." We used to get that back in the day, to be clear. The tidbits, prayers, hymns… we used to even have access to KO blog-style posts from Hemet multiple times per week. Unfortunately, those days are long gone, and as I mentioned, the mailing list is nothing but the same Daybook content on a never-ending carousel, the beautiful inspirational blog posts are long gone, and Hemet is about as distant as both of them.

As a result, I hardly consider the "mailing list" to be a form of tiered content, but there was at one point in the House's history a time when people cried about the disparity between those with $5, and those without, despite always needing donations, and I suppose here we are.

When you think about the fact that we no longer have the access to Hemet we once did, we no longer have the relationship to Hemet we once did, we no longer get the tidbits, prayers, hymns, and other unique content we once did, and no one really cares if you continue donating "at least $5 in a calendar year or not" to be on it, you realize that list is really nothing anymore. It's just recurring mush pre-scheduled and unlovingly dumped into your box at midnight or like, akin to so much spam we avoid day in and day out, and you still technically have to pay $5 for it.

But all the while we the Kemetic Orthodox crowd is getting this regurgitated content and limited access, people are in fact able to get plenty of access to Hemet and personalized relationships and advice... just not within the actual religion she created. And the way they do that is, in fact, by paying for it: the one thing we kept saying we didn't want to do as a religion, but that we can -- and dare I say, should -- do. Because listen: I recognize capitalism, and that nothing operates on hopes and prayers. There should be tiered access available within Kemetic Orthodoxy that gives access to programs and resources so that donations do happen and that Hemet does not need to go to Patreon independently to do what she needs to do, and our community can again have an access to its spiritual leader that makes that much more worth being here to begin with.

Because I can get the Gods anywhere -- I can only get Kemetic Orthodoxy here though.

But at the same time, you can't keep asking for donations, and delivering almost nothing to the very religion you created. And I do not say that in a vacuum, because before you say "all she does behind the scenes", I already know quite a bit of what she does behind the scenes, and I'm here to tell you quite point-blank: it isn't enough (clarify: it isn't enough to only be behind the scenes and just tell people you really really promise you're doing tons of work, even if you never see or get to interact with me).

I'm sorry, Tamara.

It's weird, I know, I sound like I'm speaking against her, but yet seem to turn it around entirely saying things like she should be available via paywalls. It also seems like I'm screaming into a void of entitlement, but again that's not meant to be the case. If you look at what I'm saying, you will understand I am not speaking 'against' her at all. I am in favor of her doing every single thing she must to find joy, happiness, and yes money, because that's the world we live in... and if that's outside Kemetic Orthodoxy, so be it. But you can't necessarily be "King", either, at the same time.

I do not agree with the idea that the only place you can seem to get access to our own spiritual leader in any significant capacity, is outside of the very religion she created. And creating a religion is no small thing, particularly if you are going to be assigned the literal role of Royalty that comes down from a very long, long line. I mean, she won't even participate in our own Discord, and to be clear, she is definitely participating in her own. So this is not a technology-gap kind of thing, and while the excuse over time has always been that people will try to overwhelm her, there are ways of dealing with that -- none of which anyone is willing to explore.

That responsibility you create by the process of birthing an entire religious movement into this world… it cannot be quantified by contracts, donation levels, exterior commitments, or other spiritual lives you may lead. If you create a path followed by hundreds, you need to be there, because that is your creation from the ground up, your baby, and all the babies that came from it depend on you for as long as it remains standing. "How do you make money", "How do you keep it going", "How do you find the time" -- all good questions, and all not questions anyone in the religion you've created technically needs to worry about, because it wasn't their choice to make this path, it was only their choice to follow it.

By making a statement of such importance as being the incarnation of an ancient, profound, holy and somewhat unbroken energy, followed up without a commitment that reflects the very innate reverence and humility contained within the statement itself, is a paradox I am having great difficulty to reconcile, not the least of which is how you can claim to be this, but also be dual-aspected in terms of your own spirituality in your own personal life as well (something I will not comment further on, asit is a point of bitterness I cannot overcome right now but also a very complex point as well that is not fair for me to touch on).

Simply speaking, after great, deep consideration, I have simply had to come to the conclusion as follows:

Rev. Dr. Tamara Siuda, who I still admire, and deeply respect, is not the incarnation of the Kingly Ka of Pharonic Kemet. She remains an amazing spiritual leader, a strong and experienced divination practitioner (which is why I still accept my RPD results), and a beautiful soul. But in its current incarnation? I feel Rev. Dr. Tamara Siuda has functionally abandoned Kemetic Orthodoxy in one too many ways, and I do not believe any true modern-day King could be capable of such a serious lapse or gap.

In a not-insignificant way, I do feel she avoids her community more than she embraces it, and that makes me sad. Too sad to stay as I was any longer, because I was not getting what I needed from a spiritual community, and too much of it went back to Tamara in specific.

It's possible, one day, I will change my mind about this. I am not so arrogant to think I will never change my mind again, I am 41 years old and have changed my mind more times than I can count. But for now, I agreed I would talk about why I've decided to make these changes in my Kemetic spiritual life, and this needed to be said if I was going to be honest. This is how I feel, right now, for today, and probably tomorrow.

I've cut out quite a bit of material from this, things I wrote down in my first few days after I made the change to Remetj that were perhaps a lot more harsh than I intended. I re-read it to myself and, while a lot of it still made sense, I decided it was just not fair to post. Instead, I tried to balance the way I feel, and the things I want to say, with enough balance that I can still project how disappointed I am in the state of everything and turns of events (or lack thereof), without equally projecting a serious attack against another person (which is not my intent).

I am not here to attack. I am here to express, and that will walk a fine line not everyone is going to agree with.

As usual, I'm fairly OK with that. Edit: Wow... in writing this, I wasn't expecting it to feel like a 20-lbs weight has been lifted from my chest, and my heart, and my soul. But here we are.

Edit 2: Someone on Facebook decided to state that I believe Hemet is a "dirty capitalist" -- I want to be clear that if this is what you've gotten from this post, you are wildly mistaken. Either I am not calling her that at all, or I am simply calling us all dirty capitalists, due to the innate unavoidability of capitalism itself. Ultimately, the idea is to combine 'necessary capitalism' with KO in order to save it and to ensure its spiritual leader can survive on what is connected to the House, rather than what comes from outside the House.

But, I was also accused of stating that Hemet should spend 'all of her free time' in the House, and that is a bit more tricky to address. Here's the thing: if you're going to call yourself King / Pharaoh, perhaps this is the responsibility that comes along with it -- whether that is 'palatable' to people becomes irrelevant.

Edit 3: Because we need these edits, yo. To be crystal clear, I also believe there are alternatives to Tamara being "only involved" in KO, but that's going to involve her a) speaking more readily, honestly, and openly to her congregation on a regular basis (perhaps not every day, but regular, none the less), b) dropping down from a position of "King" to something more akin to High Priest or Spiritual Leader so that her role makes more sense, c) creating full delegation to a wide group of people to run the Temple and its resources/platforms (something where change is happening slower than a snail can jog), d) dropping all contracts that indicate she will work x-amount-of-hours for x-amount-of-pay, because the organization is no where near big enough or committed enough to support it, unless e) they finally agree to integrate some revenue stream into the Temple itself. I'm not saying I have all the answers. I'm saying the way it is now, doesn't work, and will only get worse. I am hoping for change that bridges the gaping divides, and I don't have a scripted plan to 100% tell anyone how that would go. I just know that it can't stay like this, and as long as it does, Kemetic Orthodoxy is not for me. Like I said: I can get the Gods anywhere.

#blog #kemetic #kemet #personal #netjer #religion #pagan #spirituality #spiritual #growth #spiritual journey #kemetic orthodoxy #kemeticism #paganism #polytheism #polytheist #gods #ancient egypt

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corporatefrog · 11 months

Text

╰┈➤ Welcome Back to the Channel part 29; like and subscribe

✧.* featuring yn setting up for their newest youtube video when a few unexpected guests arrive : ̗̀➛ notes - this is the last chapter! thank you guys so much for joining me during the journey of this story. I haven't finished a fic in years so it feels so good to write that final line. I left it pretty open ended to be ready for extra chapters in the future!! I could say a bunch more about how thankful I am for people reading this story and how much it's help me work through the past month but i'll let the chapter do that :) tags - college au, superhero au, smau

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Okay. Let’s do this.

“Hey guys! We’ve got a really special video today!” I greeted with a beaming grin, micking a high five with the camera. So far so good. “We’re going to be doing an interview I’ve been waiting to make for a long time…” I paused for effect before moving to the side, revealing today’s special guest.

“Say hello to Mysterion!” I exclaimed with applause. I’d add some cheering effects while editing but without it, it sounded a bit empty.

Looking back at Kenny, a laugh burst from my mouth at the expression on his face. He’d twisted his mouth into some semblance of a smirk but with the mask he looked cool and suave and more like he’d just smelled a three day old diaper.

“Dude, what is that face? You look fucking stupid.” I said between laughs. Kenny frowned, giving me a side eye.

“I’ve got a reputation to uphold!” He whined, gesturing to the dark hooded costume, “You don’t get it because you just started using your persona-”

“KENNY! Just say my social security number too why don’t you-” The frame shook as I lunged forward to stop the recording before any more secrets were shared on camera.

It had been about a few months since I’d started working with Butters and the guys would not let me forget they had seniority in the hero/villain world. Every chance Clyde had, he reminded me that he was there when they fought Cthulhu. Of course, Kyle was close behind to say that Clyde had done absolutely nothing during that fight. But that was followed by Kyle reminding me that he was sent to hell and was there during the eldritch battle.

I’d been worried when they found out that they’d stop talking to me altogether. I wasn’t quite sure why. They’ve known about Butters being Professor Chaos since they were children and I see him and Kenny hang out more than he hangs out with Kyle and Stan sometimes. He even hangs out with Craig and his group on the weekends.

The only thing that’s been hurt by my employment at Chaos LLC is my intel source. Wendy stopped giving me insider details about hero movements if they related to Professor Chaos so I haven’t been able to cover as much of his antics but she was still queuing me into other run-ins with minor villains and typical South Park oddities.

Last week, fucking Slenderman showed up. Like a tall faceless dude in a suit and tie Slenderman. Just standing in the park. He did kidnap Butters which led to an interesting rescue mission. And the video coverage was insane. Marble Hornets could never.

I didn’t want to trust it at first. I’d spent a month waiting for things to suddenly change. For everyone to turn on me for being a minor inconvenience at best but Craig still asked me to help him with his stats homework at Tweek Bros and Stan still invited me to whatever random board game shop he was visiting that week. The only thing that changed was sometimes we ran around the city in (if I’m being honest) ridiculous costumes and blew off some of the steam that comes with being a college student at Garrison University.

The entire college almost shut down last month due to Dean Garrison being convicted of tax fraud and publicly attempting to assassinate the President in order to avoid charges. Without anyone to lead the college and the name now permanently connected to an elementary school teacher turned assassin, the only option seemed to be shutting the place down. That was a rough month. The university was literally on the verge of closure and I still had to write a 10 page research paper. What kind of bullshit is that?

Yeah but it was a paper about The Bachelor so was it really work?

Anything that involves citing in APA is work.

The routine of my new normal set in pretty quickly. Well, as ‘normal’ as things can be when you’re friends with superheroes in South Park. I went to my classes, made videos for my channel, then I’d meet up with Butters and ruin a few people’s day a few times a week. It was scary how easily I fell into the routine. I’d wake up and say good morning to Stan as though he weren’t shooting tranquilizer darts from a nail gun at me a few hours earlier. Certainly not a sentence I ever thought I’d say.

Looking back on the past two years, I see all the chances I had to end up somewhere else. If I’d gone to a different university and never set foot in South Park or if I’d chosen a different apartment and never ran into Clyde on my first day there I could have led a completely different life. Even in the moments which dragged on my mind, they all led me here. And the feeling of comfort that comes along with that thought makes every struggle worthwhile.

There’s nowhere I’d rather be and here. Attending a university with an idiot dean, living in an apartment building with my closest friends, and now helping someone I care about get the revenge he’s due. Oh, and making youtube videos about all the stupid shit that happens along the way.

I restarted the recording, giving Kenny a warning glare before saying the intro again. This time, he kept a normal face which made it much easier to not think about how just a few months ago, I was freaking out at the idea of talking to THE Mysterion.

Granted, now we’ve seen THE Mysterion vomiting in a toilet at 2 am after eating his taco bell too fast so the shimmer has faded.

“So, Mysterion,” I started, glancing at my list of questions I’d prepared for the interview, “You’ve been the longest running hero in South Park history! How does it feel to be coming up on 10 years as South Park’s Guardian Angel?”

Kenny hummed as he mulled over the question, “It’s not an easy job-” A knock on the door cut off his answer. I looked over at Kenny with a confused expression. He mirrored my confusion but couldn’t offer an idea on who was interrupting our interview for the second time.

I paused the video before heading over to the door, looking through the peephole. Toolshed’s signature belt gave him away instantly. He shifted from foot to foot as he waited, tapping his hands against his thighs.

What the fuck?

I opened the door, leaning against the frame while I deadpanned at my neighbor.

“What’re you doing?” I asked, looking at him from under my eyebrows.

Stan flashed a sheepish smile, “Well, I heard that you were interviewing Ken-” He paused, glancing down the hall both ways before correcting himself, “Mysterion today and I was thinking I could join? I haven’t gotten an interview yet after all.”

“You haven’t gotten an interview because all you’ve done the past three fights is stand in the back with a power drill looking lost.” I pulled up my phone and held it up for Stan to see the footage from the past three hero conflicts. While Kenny and Craig dove into the fray, Stan could be seen in the background, searching through his utility belt for the right tool for the battle. By the time he held up his weapon of choice, Craig would be throwing the final punch.

“Okay those videos are rigged. You got those from the Craig fan accounts.” Stan protested.

“You’re really reaching now bud-”

“Is there still time for the interview?” A voice shouted from down the hall. Kyle’s door flew open with him rushing out soon after. The kite strapped to his back caught on the door frame, sending him tripping and falling into the wall across the hall from his door. I sighed, rubbing a hand over my face while the sound of Kyle cursing and tripping over his own stupid fucking costume filled the hallway.

“Dude what are you doing?” Stan asked, crossing his arms as though he were the one being put upon by the appearance of the Human Kite. Kyle righted himself, brushing imaginary dust off his costume.

“You said you were going to try and get in on the interview and after my last one-” He gave me a pointed look as though I were the one who chose his stupid name in the first place, “turned into me being berated for an hour and a half.”

“Yeah but you already had one. It’s my turn now.” Stan whined.

“Actually, it’s my turn right now.” Kenny said, suddenly appearing behind me at the door. I jumped to the side, holding a hand over my chest to keep my heart from jumping out at the shock.

“Jesus fuck man. I need to put a bell on you.” I muttered to myself before addressing the slowly growing group of complaining superheroes, “None of you guys get to decide whose turn it is to be on my channel. I set up this interview with Kenny a month ago and we’re finally getting to filming so if you want to have ‘your turn’ you need to fill out the form and join the queue like everyone else. I’ve got Craig and Tweek lined up for next month then Tolkien-”

“How the fuck does Tolkien get to go before me-”

“Because he filled out the fucking form Stan? I literally just told you.”

“Okay, well I just think it would be more interesting to have Toolshed on before Tupperware.” Stan looped his thumbs through his utility belt, kicking a foot at the ground with a frown tugging at his lips. He looked up at me with pouting eyes, blinking rapidly as he tried to change my mind.

No way this 20 year old is pouting in the hallway right now.

I blew a breath out of the corner of my mouth, averting my eyes from the pouting college student. I better not regret this.

“Okay, fine.” I started. Stan’s posture immediately improved as he straightened up and began to walk towards the door. Kyle followed suit with a borderline giddy smile of his own. I held up a hand to stop them, “But this is a one time thing, okay? Don’t go telling the others you can just bug me into doing a video with them because I know Clyde can and will be the most annoying motherfucker to ever exist until I do an entire series about him.”

Kyle and Stan nodded rapidly, heads moving in sync as they agreed to whatever would get them in the video. I was about to move aside and let them in when Kenny sucked in a breath.

“We weren’t supposed to tell other people about this?” He asked. When I turned to stare at him, he plastered an awkwardly large grin on his face.

“Who did you tell?” I asked, holding my breath out of fear for what he’d say next. Kenny paused, eyes moving across the ceiling as he thought over the question. That’s never a good sign. Then he began counting on his fingers, mouth moving in silent words as he continued to tick off different unknown names.

Letting his hands fall with a shrug, he looked back at me with the still incredibly awkward smile, “Only like a few of the guys-”

“MUAHAHAHA, THIS IS WHERE YOU FALL MYSTERION!” Butters came barreling in through my balcony doors, fists raised to the sky as he posed in the living room. The four of us turned to look at the villain.

“False alarm, Butters. Apparently this was a lowkey thing.” Kenny said, pointing to me with his thumb as though I were the buzzkill in the situation. My jaw dropped as I turned to Kenny, appalled that he had the audacity to claim I was ruining our private interview I’d spent a month planning.

Butters’ arms fell back to his sides, tinfoil of his gauntlets scraping slightly against his belt, “Awe geez, and here I was ready for a scuffle.” He said, scuffing the toe of his boot against the floor in a similar pout to Stan’s from moments before.

Why am I friends with a bunch of toddlers?

Before I could address Butters’ appearance, my apartment was flooded with the rest of my friends all clad in their hero costumes. Tolkien waddled behind Tweek and Craig, turning sideways to get through the door with Clyde following close behind. Soon my apartment was filled with arguing superheroes and one very boisterous villain, all trying to figure out how to fit themselves into the frame.

I squeezed myself onto the couch between Kenny and Clyde, feeling like I should at least have the original planned video guest in the middle of the frame. Voices overlapped as Stan tried to shove Kyle over, pushing Tweek and Craig further to the side. The cacophony of sound bounced off the walls and made the air buzz with the rambunctious energy.

Normally the noise would send me spiraling, overstimulated by the different sounds all pulling me in different directions, but the noise around me calmed the normally racing thoughts in my mind. I’d spent so long sitting in front of this camera, reading off new stories of the people who now shouted my name to grab my attention from opposite ends of the couch I’d gotten off Facebook Marketplace. The once deafening silence which filled the moments between takes was replaced by shouts to move over and accusations of stepping on their kite string.

It was the best noise I’d ever heard.

“I’m starting now! Everyone shut up and follow me lead!” I announced, stabilizing the camera before returning to my spot with a smile.

I smiled for the camera. I smiled at the thought of the views a video with all of South Park’s heroes would get. But I also smiled from the overwhelming happiness that came from being surrounded by my closest friends.

“Hey guys!” I greeted, raising a hand to mimic a high five with the lens,

“Welcome back to the channel!”

taglist [reply to be added]: @sula0kin @lacuna-at-dawn @anglettecolours @cocolena@sukisprettyface @feverish-dove @sweetadonisbutbetter @hand-writxen@mishstuff@sophtophie @triphovia @lacunaanonymoused @inkedintothepaper @toodeepintofandoms@mmmaackerel @sillybilly-123@n0tangeliccc@sophtophie@inkedintothepaper

#its done-#please tell me you guys liked it AHHH im so scared to post this #i tried to make it sweet #corporatefrog #south park #south park x reader #welcome back to the channel #sp tfbw #tfbw

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lovelynim · 10 months

Text

Smile, my king

Fate/Grand Order Absolute Demonic Front: Babylonia - Gilgamesh x Enkidu

A/N: Hello from the past :D This is the fic I said I got queued and it took me a shameful amount of time to finish huehuehue I finished Fate/Babylonia and I couldn't stop thinking about Gilgamesh and Enkidu, so anyway here we are

Also, sorry for not knowing how to properly tag this. Fate has a stupidly huge amount of tags and I dont know which one to use

Summary: If Siduri is not up for the task, there is only one person that can make the king smile.

Word count: 1587 words

Standing behind Siduri, Enkidu watched as Gilgamesh did his work, reading the reports on the clay tablet before giving the general a displeased look.

“So that’s all?” The king muttered, clearly uninterested by the topic and even more by the other’s presence before him.

“Yes, your highness,” the man said firmly, but he was clearly nervous to stand in Gilgamesh’s presence.

“Don’t you know how to do your job?!” Gilgamesh shouted, banging his fist against the throne’s arm, furrowing his eyebrows. “Your men are clearly more than capable, they need you to stand for them.”

“B-But, your highn-”

“I’m not done talking!” Gilgamesh said, still speaking as firmly as before, but sounding even more threatening this time, making the general flinch with every word that came out of his mouth.

On the other side of the room, Enkidu and Siduri kept watching the scene unfold, only exchanging a few whispers between each other.

“The king is really angry, huh…” The green-haired muttered, letting out a worried sigh that made Siduri giggle quietly.

“I read that report earlier, the general wanted to get rid of his soldiers without a good reason… The king needs to give him a scolding, otherwise he won’t get it,” she explained, looking at Enkidu.

“Still… even for one of his scolding, he seems more upset than usual,” he chuckled, tilting his head as he watched Gilgamesh continue his ranting for a couple more minutes before finally dismissing the general, who seemed as stunned as someone could possibly be.

Letting out a loud sigh as he leaned back into his throne, Gilgamesh eyed the couple in the corner of the room, keeping a straight face. “What are you two looking at?” The king scoffed, his voice sounding both playful and cocky. “Siduri, let the next person in.”

“Right this moment, your highness,” she gave Enkidu one last nod, as if to tell him ‘goodbye’ and headed towards the throne, handing Gilgamesh another tablet and then requesting the nearby guard to escort the next visitor.

As the day went on, people continued to come, one after the other, to speak to their king, seeking out for the solution of their problems, the support to their projects or simply some advice from their ruler.

However, Enkidu couldn’t help but notice that, with each problem solved, Gilgamesh seemed more and more… stressed. He couldn’t help but feel concerned about it, trying to figure it out.

“Are you worried as well?” Siduri’s voice broke through his thoughts, making the green-haired man turn around in a jolt, “I can see what you meant earlier now,” she sighed while Gilgamesh’s conversation with a farmer echoed through the throne room.

“Yes… I wish I could do something for him,”

“Maybe we can,” she smiled, looking around and waving to another servant, who quickly approached the duo, “prepare a few mats on the balcony and a few cushions too… let’s take the king for a breather outside after he is done with today’s schedule.”

“Right away, mrs. Siduri,” they said, leaving to get things ready.

“Do you think it will work?” The man said, crossing his arms as he pondered about Siduri’s idea.

“The king always goes there whenever he can, I think he will enjoy it… and I have a B plan as well, in case things don’t work.”

“And what is it?” Enkidu asked, tilting his head, but was answered with nothing but a short giggle from the woman. Before he could insist on the topic any further, Siduri’s presence was once again requested by Gilgamesh’s side.

“We will talk later,” she muttered as she started to walk away, “see you there, Enkidu!”

“S-Siduri, wait-” he reached out his hand, but she was already too far. He sighed, deciding that it wouldn’t hurt to join her and Gilgamesh later.

By the time the sun was setting, Enkidu was already waiting in the balcony, sitting in one of the mats and enjoying the warmth of the fading light. With his eyes closed and the noises from the palace and from the city distant, it wasn’t hard to relax. Maybe that’s why Siduri chose this place.

“Even the Chains of Heavens himself stopped by to admire my kingdom, but I don’t judge you, the sight is really breathtaking,” Gilgamesh hummed from behind, walking through the door.

Turning his head to look at the blonde over his shoulder, Enkidu couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle, quickly standing up. “Ah, your highness, what brings you here?” He said, adding some unnecessary formality to his words.

“Does the king need a reason to walk around his own palace?” The blonde teased, walking to the mat where Enkidu was and dropping himself on top of a cushion near the other.

Letting out a chuckle, the green-haired sat back down, sighing quietly. “And is this heavenly construct worth knowing your majesty’s reasons?”

“Drop the act, would you?” Gilgamesh scoffed, rolling his eyes as he crossed one leg over the other, supporting his head into his arm, “Siduri insisted I spent some time here to “relax” because I was too “stressed” with work. It was truly bold of that woman to order me around like that.”

Enkidu cocked his head, connecting the dots after hearing what the king had to say. If that was true, then Siduri had set him up for this meeting… and he had fallen into her game without a second thought. “I see,” he coughed, “but I support her idea.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“I could tell from watching you work earlier, my king,” he muttered, with a slight teasing undertone in his voice, “how you grew more and more impatient with each visitor. You, indeed, need to “relax”, as she said.”

“That makes one more fool in this palace to count,” Gilgamesh snapped, giving the other a displeased look.

“Oh, please, when was the last time you actually smiled? You should at least stop frowning for a change.”

“Hah?” Gilgamesh was no longer annoyed at this point, but still found Enkidu and Siduri’s worries an utter waste of time. With a defiant and taunting tone, the king crossed his arms and leaned his back into another cushion. “When a fool with a sense of humor presented himself to me.”

“Well, you just called me a fool, didn’t you?” Enkidu said, turning to Gilgamesh and pinching the blonde’s cheeks, pulling his lips into a smile. “Then why are you not smiling?”

With a weak slap, Gilgamesh pushed Enkidu’s hands away from his face, scoffing at the other’s insistence. “I said ‘a fool with a sense of humor’, Enkidu. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

The green-haired laughed, thinking about those words for a moment as he leaned a little closer to Gilgamesh, “well, my king, are you suggesting I start telling you jokes? I thought I was more than a mere form of entertainment for you…”

Enkidu’s words would have made him falter and blush if they were directed at anyone else, but Gilgamesh? No. All he managed to do was bring an amused grin to the king’s lips.

“Can you think of any other wahAH-hng!”

“Yes, I can, my king,” Enkidu teased after hearing that strangled laugh coming from the blonde. Having Gilgamesh to lower his guard for a couple of seconds was enough for Enkidu to strike. “I’m quite familiar with the ways to make you smile,” he tapped his fingers against the blonde’s sides.

With a crooked smile on his lips, Gilgamesh froze on the spot as soon as he felt the touches against his midriff. “Y-yohou would dahAHAre- Enkidu!” He roared, trying to sound serious as he held both of his partner’s hands.

“Yes, my king?” With a smug smile on his face, the green-haired continued to gently stroke the king’s sides and waist, pinching and poking as he spoke, “is this fool… entertaining you?”

But Gilgamesh was stubborn. And a bad loser. And a brat, sometimes. He refused to let the other simply get the upper hand like that, “o-of cohohourse nohot!” The blonde protested through gritted teeth, tightening his grip around the other’s wrists.

“But I’m making you smile… or, at least, I’m about to,” without wasting another second, Enkidu dug into Gilgamesh’s sides with a little more strength. As the tickling intensified, Gilgamesh’s body tensed up, trembling under the green-haired as he tried to hold his laughter in. “Come on, I know you want to give in… I won’t tell anyone that the great king is a little ticklish ~”

“Enkihihidu! Cehehease it t-this mohohoment!” Gilgamesh finally giggled, pressing his eyes shut and scrunching up his shoulders as he tried to protect his ear from the whispering.

But it wasn’t enough, not for Enkidu. “So soon, my king?” He skittered his fingers up the blonde’s sides, now tickling his ribs, “I’ve been doing it for a few barely a minute…” The green-haired chuckle, trapping Gilgamesh between his body and the cushions surrounding them.

“YohOHOhou- ahAHAha, f-foHOhhool!!” He hissed through his laughter, pressing his arms against his sides, trying to stop the other’s hands from climbing his body any further. Gilgamesh pressed his body back, hoping to free it from the ticklish touch that was making his mind go blank.

With a mix of pokes and strokes, Enkidu continued the assault with ease, keeping the blonde in place as he continued to draw the laughter out of him. “Curse me all you want, my king, I have all the time in the world to entertain you with this ‘foolery’ ~”

#fategrand order absolute demonic front: babylonia #fate/babylonia #fate/babylonia tickling #gilgamesh x enkidu #lee!gilgamesh #ticklish!gilgamesh #ler!enkidu #tickle fic #queued

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sassy-ahsoka-tano · 1 year

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DADDY ISSUES - Part Four: Vegas

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: Your new life is amazing, without Elvis. Well, at least until you get a mysterious package in the mail that's about to change your life. [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: a friend fight with some harsh words that were painful to write but i don't think anything else!

Rating: Pg-13 || Word Count: 5058

A/N: ahhh it's been AGES i know but i've been working hard so expect lots of updates!! i have several parts already queued. i'll be posting a chapter every tuesday + thursday until the fic is completed!

also just a reminder that there's a playlist if you're interested and i've put the link to the taglist below!

Song Rec: vegas - doja cat

This is Part 4 of Daddy Issues. Find the rest of the series here!

[ masterlist | taglist ]

🦋 mila

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

A year later, you find yourself living in a brand new apartment with Trixie, the girl whom you stood next to during the chaotic filming of the 68 Comeback Special. Apparently, her family is extremely well-off and has absolutely no issue sending her money without question. Although you’ve tried to assure Trixie about a thousand times that you don’t want nor need the money she continues to shovel into your pocket, she insists on supporting you. At first, it was easier to give in because you actually really did need the money, since you were unemployed with no prospects and a scant resume. But now, you’re just starting to feel selfish.

Fortunately, with Steve’s help you’ve managed to secure a job working at KNBC, California’s NBC television station. You might still just be a secretarial worker, but a job is a job. Surprisingly, you find yourself with an unprecedented amount of free time compared to what you had when you were constantly picking up night and weekend shifts every other week at the diner. Not to mention that you make a lot more, too. It’s nothing to brag about by any means, but far more than enough to get you back on your feet. Slowly but surely, your debts dwindle little by little every day.

So far, living with Trixie has been pure bliss. She’s incredibly sweet and very neat and tidy. She doesn’t leave her laundry on the floor, always takes the trash out, and is usually cheerful in the morning. Some days, she even meets you in the kitchen with a carafe of steaming hot coffee already brewed. She never brings home creepy guys who hang around past their welcome and she’s nothing but respectful of your space. She works similar hours to you as a designer at a fashion magazine conveniently located only a couple of blocks down the road from KNBC.

You honestly couldn’t have asked for a better situation and, for the first time in a very long time, you feel safe, happy, and healthy. Little do you know what’s to come when a surprise package shows up on your doorstep.

You’re in the bathroom, elbows deep in water and soap as you wash your face first thing in the morning. Trixie, the early morning bird she is, has been awake for several hours already and is in the kitchen making breakfast. With the bathroom door closed, you can hardly hear anything going on down the hall so it takes you a moment to process Trixie’s shout that you’ve received a delivery. Squinting your eyes to protect them from the soap sliding down your face, you turn toward the door and yell back.

“Who’s it from?”

A few seconds of silence pass before Trixie replies.

“Uh…Y/N, why are you getting a package from E…ley?”

You shake your head. You can barely hear her over the sound of the water and the closed door. Your fingers quickly scramble to turn off the faucet and you grasp for a towel to hurriedly dry your face before rushing out of the bathroom. Sticking your head around the corner, you glance at Trixie with furrowed eyebrows.

“What did you say?” you ask.

“The package,” she responds, holding it up, “it’s from Elvis Presley.”

“I…from who?”

“Can you hear me, honey? Elvis. Elvis Presley? Famous musician and actor? We're both huge fans? We were in the audience while he filmed his comeback special on NBC? Ringing any bells here?” Trixie gestures wildly, her eyes big and wide.

You shake your head and approach her, holding out your hands so she can pass the package along to you. As soon as it touches your fingers, you snatch it up and sit down on the couch in the living room. Sure enough, as you look at the address label on the package, there it is. Elvis Presley.

To be perfectly honest, you’ve all but forgotten about him. With everything going on in your life, you’ve been too busy to pay attention to celebrity gossip or keep track of the music charts. You also have to admit that you might have been more inclined to forget him after suffering the embarrassment of turning down his…offer.

Glancing up at Trixie, you see her biting the nail of her thumb anxiously, a big grin breaking through her face. You shake your head again and sigh a deep breath before your fingers start digging into the wrapping of the package. Once you’ve torn through the wrapping paper and flipped open the cardboard box, your fingers catch onto something soft and silky. Shooting a confused expression at Trixie, you pull out the object and stand to let it unfold. Your breath catches in your throat as it drops down into its full form. Trixie shares the expression, her gasp accompanying yours.

“Oh my god…” she says in awe.

You hold it up to your body and wander over to the floor-length mirror hanging in the entryway. As you press the fabric against your figure, your eyebrows raise. It’s almost the same blue color as your horrible dress from Chadney’s Restaurant, the one you’d been wearing when you officially met Elvis for the first time. Although the color is comparable, the quality is nowhere near the same. This dress is made of silk, softer than any fabric you’ve ever felt before, and definitely a major upgrade from the scratchy cotton of your old work uniform. The dress has a sweetheart neckline with a cut out of the side and a leg slit that rides higher than you’d normally be comfortable with. As you run your fingers over the seams, you feel a few hand-cut jewels. They look like diamonds, although your brain is incapable of believing that.

“Hey, there’s a note with it,” Trixie’s voice knocks you out of your disbelief and you turn toward her.

She hands it over to you and, as you unfold it, two long green strips of paper fall out. Trixie bends to pick them up and examines them as you read the handwritten script of the letter out loud, although the handwriting is atrociously difficult to decipher.

“Cinderella,” you pause and gulp as your brain flashes back to the moment when Elvis had first called you that. When he’d invited you into his dressing room after the special. When he’d pulled your panties from his robe pocket…

“Cinderella,” you clear your throat and continue, “I figured I oughta replace that blue dress you ruined on account of me. I hope you like this one better and that you find the rest of the contents of this package to your taste.”

You pause, your eyes wandering over toward the package which, apparently, has more to give. You reach for it, digging underneath the wrapping paper until your fingers curl onto something lacy. You pull it out and heat immediately floods your face and neck. Trixie’s hand flies onto her mouth as you both stare in silence at an expensive-looking lingerie set hanging from your fingertip. You immediately drop it back into the package and shiver.

“What does the rest of the letter say?” Trixie asks, leaning forward to glance at the note over your shoulder.

“Uh…replace that blue dress, blah, blah, blah…contents of this package…Don’t make me wait until midnight. And don’t forget who-”

You stop abruptly as your brain circles around the last few words of the letter.

“What?” Trixie asks, peering more intensely over your shoulder. “What does it say, Foxie? I can barely read his chicken scratch.”

Foxie is the nickname Trixie had started calling you. Until this point, you’ve never understood why. But as your eyes roam over the contents of the package Elvis sent you, you start to understand that maybe you’re more of a fox than you realized.

“Don’t forget who owns you, princess.”

Trixie’s mouth pops open and she stares at you with wide eyes. You collapse further onto the couch and cover your eyes with your palms. Your heart pounds in your chest as you run through everything you just discovered.

“Wait, I’m sorry…did I miss something?” Trixie asks. “What the hell is all of this, Y/N?”

“It’s nothing,” you reply a little too quickly. “It must be some kind of a joke or something. I don’t know.”

“Some joke! Some expensive joke. These fell out of the letter,” she says, handing over the two green strips of paper.

Your eyes widen as you scan the printed text on the paper. Two tickets to one of Elvis’ concerts at the International Hotel in Las Vegas, Nevada. You run a hand over your face and toss the tickets back into the cardboard box they came in. With a building rage, you grab onto the other contents of the package and shove them back in, tucking the wrapping paper back over them like a blanket.

“No, no this is insane. I don’t know what kind of sick joke this is. But no,” you mutter to yourself.

“Y/N, honey…I really don’t think this is a joke. I mean, two front row tickets to an Elvis Presley concert in Las Vegas? Do you know how expensive these are? Who would blow that much money just to get a laugh? I can’t even think of anyone else you know and I certainly didn’t pull this stunt.”

“Look, I don’t know, but I can’t believe that…well, he wouldn’t have any reason to send this to me. I mean, I told him no the last time he offered, so he should-”

“What? What do you mean you ‘told him no?’ Y/N what is going on here that I don’t know about? I’m completely lost.”

Shit. You slipped.

“Oh, no. It’s nothing,” you stutter, waving your hands frantically. “It was…nothing.”

“Well, it was obviously something?” Trixie gestures to the package. You sigh and she places a hand on your shoulder. “Foxie, I’m your best friend in the world. You can tell me anything.”

Your gaze drops down to her brightly painted purple nails and you heave a deep breath before lifting your gaze to hers. Her eyebrows are furrowed in concern and you know that she genuinely does care about your well-being.

“You’re technically my only friend in the world, Trix. But yes, I guess something did happen that I never told you about.”

“Well, what is honey? Now, I really have to know,” she gestures to the package again and you chuckle.

“Well, to start off, the 68 special wasn’t the first time I saw Elvis. I saw him in 1956 at Russwood Park, too.”

“Right. I remember. We’ve talked about it plenty of times. What does that concert have to do with this?”

“Well, I maybe…kind of, sort of…did an embarrassing thing.”

“Like…what?” she quirks an eyebrow and you squeeze your eyes shut to counter the embarrassment you feel rising in your chest.

“I slid my underwear across the stage at that concert,” you blurt, wincing at the memory of your own actions. “And apparently I made an impression because he, Elvis I mean, sent his producer to bring me to the dressing room after we filmed the special. It was several hours after, so you were probably long gone by then. I was staying with my cousin, Steve, you remember him. Anyway, so I wound up in Elvis’ dressing room and it was just the two of us and he just…he just pulled my panties out of his pocket! The ones I’d given him, you know, years and years ago. I mean, I never in my wildest dreams would have expected…do you think he washed them? I mean, ew!”

“Calm, Foxie! Calm and focus. Slow words.”

“Right, sorry,” you laugh painfully and gulp before continuing. “Uh, after he pulled my panties out he sort of asked me if I…like, if I wanted to be his…sugar baby?”

Trixie’s eyes close and reopen wider and she leans forward as if she hasn’t heard you correctly. She blinks in shock.

“Well, what did you say? Did you tell him no?”

“Yeah, I said it was wrong. That I’m not the kind of person who sleeps with married men. Apparently, he didn’t take the hint because…” you gesture again to the infamous package.

“Yeah, I’d say not. What did he offer you? That’s how it works, right? You take care of him and he does something for you?”

“He offered to pay my debts and buy me gifts and stuff. The usual things, I imagine?”

“And he hasn’t contacted you since then until now?”

“Not one time.”

A few moments of silence pass. Trixie settles back into the couch, tapping her finger on her leg, obviously deep in thought. Your eyes just lazily drag around the scattered contents of the package as you contemplate what to do.

“Maybe…” Trixie starts, “you should go see what he wants?”

Your head snaps toward her.

“What?”

“I don’t know, maybe…maybe he has a different offer for you. Or maybe you can finagle your way into an even better arrangement.”

You throw your hands up, motioning for her to stop.

“Trixie, what are you talking about? I can’t do this. It’s wrong.”

“Yeah, I know, but you could use the extra cash and, after all, it is Elvis Presley.”

You just stare at her for a moment, your eyes flicking around her face to see whether she’s joking. Based on what you gather from her expression, she’s being completely serious. You scoff and stand up, grabbing harshly onto the box to take it right to the trash can.

“I can’t believe you would even say that, Trix. I expected better from you.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Trixie asks, standing and propping her hands on her hips.

“For God’s sake, Trixie! The man is married with a baby. What would I do to all of that if I said yes? I’m not a homewrecker. All he wants to do is use me anyway. He’ll probably drop me in three days for another woman. No thanks, not gonna happen. I’m not doing this.”

“Well, give it all to me, then,” Trixie shouts back, stalking over toward you and grabbing ahold of the package. You pull back firmly, preventing her from snatching it out of your fingers.

“Excuse me? What are you gonna do? You’re gonna go see him?”

“Maybe I will.”

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but he doesn’t want you. He wants me!” you shout, ripping the package away from her.

“Oh, that’s very nice of you. If you’re not gonna take him up on it, someone should!” she yells back, reaching for the package again.

“If you didn’t want to support me financially any more you could have just said it!”

“Don’t even!” she holds up her pointer finger. “You know very well that’s not what this is about. I have no problem helping you. You’re the one who’s always complaining about how pathetic it is that you have to mooch off me.”

“And not everyone has the luxury to just leave their lives, you know!” you yell. “I have to work, Trixie. To pay my bills, to keep my car, to avoid going to prison. Not everyone’s mommy and daddy are around to bail them out when they make stupid decisions!”

Right after the words escape your lips, your eyebrows unfurl and grief settles quickly in the depths of your stomach. When you notice a few glinting tears gathering in Trixie’s eyes, the reality of what you’ve said and its consequences are all too clear. Trixie huffs and stares at you for a moment before spinning on her heel and stalking down the hallway to her room. You drop the box on the counter and thrust your face into your hands, jumping at the rigid sound of her bedroom door slamming shut.

“Why don’t you just leave me alone?” you whisper to Elvis’ nonexistent frame as you toy with a piece of the wrapping paper.

You’d lied to Trixie, which you now feel increasingly bad about. You had heard from Elvis. Just a few letters here and there for the first couple of months after you rejected him the first time. You threw them all away without opening a single one. After a while, they just stopped coming and you thought you were in the clear. You were obviously wrong.

You glance around the apartment, thinking about how lucky you are to even be living here in the first place. Guilt racks through your body painfully and you sniff back a couple of tears before reaching across the table to grab the two tickets. As your eyes circle around the words, you sigh and then shuffle down the hall toward Trixie’s room. With a deep breath, you knock quietly on the door and lean against it.

“Trixie? I’m so sorry, Trix. I’m just overwhelmed and frustrated. I didn’t mean to call you stupid or…shame you for your upbringing. And I really shouldn’t dare considering how much you’ve done for me,” you say quietly, resting your forehead against the door. “It just feels so…unreal. This whole Elvis situation. Don’t get me wrong, of course I’m interested but it just…feels so wrong. He’s married with a kid and I…I’m scared.”

You wait a few seconds but hear nothing on the other side of the door. You turn with a dejected sigh and retreat to hide in your room. But as soon as you turn your back, the door clicks open. You whirl back around to see Trixie peeking her head out.

“I’m sorry,” you say but she holds up a hand.

“Don’t apologize. I’m the one who should be doing that. I have no right telling you what to do with your life. I certainly shouldn’t be mad at you for not accepting. This situation is very…unusual. I guess I just got jealous at the idea that the Elvis Presley wants you so badly that he went to all this trouble. And I hate to see you struggling. I know the money would reduce a lot of stress so I just think you should…I don’t know, consider it.”

“I know, Trix. I could use the money, of course. But I’m scared and embarrassed. What’ll happen if I eventually get old or uninteresting? If he gets bored of me and drops me for someone else? I barely know the man but he feels dangerous to me. Steve said something about him being unfaithful to his wife and…it’s just all so much.”

Trixie nods, leaning against the doorframe and crossing her arms over her chest. You sigh loudly.

“At the same time, though…” you offer a small smile and pull the two tickets from your back pocket. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to take him up on this? It’d be a shame to waste two front row tickets, especially with how expensive they are nowadays. And it would give me the opportunity to tell him off once and for all. What do you think? Another roomie adventure?”

You wiggle the tickets in the air with a suggestive shrug. Trixie laughs and nudges the door open with her hip. She throws her arms around your shoulders and you lean into her touch, closing your eyes and squeezing tightly. When she releases you, you’re greeted by a massive smile on her beautiful face.

“I guess we should get packing, then,” you say, gesturing at the tickets which have tomorrow’s date printed all over them.

“I’ll call the hotel and make reservations!” Trixie shouts, clapping her hands together.

With that, she disappears into her room to start packing. You trudge back into the kitchen to retrieve the package and then disappear into your own room. A few minutes later, you hear Trixie’s favorite Elvis record playing from her room.

You spend most of the day packing and preparing to leave since you’ll need to depart first thing in the morning to make the concert on time. At least one full hour is spent on the phone with your boss at KNBC as you try to explain why you can’t come in tomorrow. Another hour is wasted when you spend it calling everyone you know at the office to see if they’ll fill in for you. Luckily, the last person on your contact list agrees to take your shift. You thank them endlessly and accidentally promise an autograph from Elvis, although you aren’t sure if you plan on being that close to him.

You pass out as soon as your head hits the pillow that night and, even though you’ve both slept in, you and Trixie are groggy as ever in the morning.

As you lift your suitcase from the bed, your eyes land on the package from Elvis, half-unopened and not packed in your case. You pause in the doorway for a moment, staring at it. Last night, it was all too clear why you shouldn’t bring it. The answer to his proposal was and always would be a firm no. But this morning, as your gaze falls frozen on the beautiful things he’d sent you and the haunting words he’d written, your heart thumps with anticipation. Sighing frustratedly, you click open the suitcase and shove both the dress and the lingerie inside.

You and Trixie leave LA around 11 a.m., piled into her blue Jeep Wagoneer. Two hours into the four hour trip, you switch off and take the wheel so Trixie can get some extra rest. She was awake until two in the morning pairing up the perfect outfits. To your surprise, the drive is over in a flash and, the next thing you know, you’re inching through the Vegas Strip, stuck in horrific traffic.

You check your wristwatch as you get caught by yet another red light. You have roughly four hours to get ready for the show. After parking and checking in at the front desk, you take your bags upstairs to get unpacked. Even with exploring the hotel, grabbing dinner, and getting changed for the concert (which includes the forty minutes you spent debating whether or not you should wear the blue dress Elvis sent you), you find yourselves with time to spare. You decide to head down early and see if you can get seated before the rush.

When you arrive outside of the showroom, you’re shocked to see the area relatively deserted. You check the ticket twice to make sure before approaching the security guard standing in front of the doors.

“Hi,” you say cheerily. “We’re here for the Elvis show and were just wondering if it’d be possible for us to be seated a little early? If not, that’s alright, but we figured we’d check.”

“Well,” the guard starts, his eyes tracking not-so-sneakily up and down yours and Trixie’s figures. “We normally don’t allow people in before the scheduled time, but I might be able to make an exception for two ladies as lovely as yourselves.”

He winks and you press your lips together to keep from laughing. You glance at Trixie out of the corner of your eye and see her holding a finger to her mouth to mask her amusement.

“Oh, that’d be awfully sweet of you…Henry,” Trixie says, flashing him her most charming smile.

Your eyes drop down to see his nametag which reads Henry. You bite your tongue as you watch Henry flash Trixie a smile. He glances around the surrounding casino floor to see if anyone else is watching before pushing open the big black door behind him. He gestures with his hand.

“Please come on in, ladies. Will you need help finding your seats today?”

“Oh, you’re too generous, Henry,” you say as you both glide past him into the showroom. “But I think we’ll be alright. If we get lost, we’ll be sure to find you.”

You throw in a wink for good measure and spin on your heel, dragging Trixie into the room. Only a few steps inside and you’re both laughing so hard that you can barely breathe. Your laughs dry up in a couple of seconds, however, when you start to take in the space. You mutter in awe and point around the room, admiring details like the golden curtains pulled over the stage and the ornate statues adorning each column. You pull out the tickets and use them to direct you both toward your seats in the front row.

“Damn, we’re literally right here,” you muse, glancing straight ahead of you onto the front of the stage.

You’re seated at a round table that’s clad with a very fanciful tablecloth, dishes, and wine glasses. A candle, unlit, rests in the middle of the table and there’s a note propped up against the glass. You tilt your head as you reach out to grab it.

“Oh my god,” you mutter as you read the writing on the outside. Princess.

“Ooh, what’s that?” Trixie asks, plopping into one of the chairs next to you. You open the note as you join her.

“Princess, I’m so glad you made it. When you get here, come see me backstage. I have a present for you,” you read, your eyebrows furrowing.

You glance at Trixie but she just raises her eyebrows and shrugs. With a deep breath, you grab onto your purse, still clutching the note in your fingers.

“Alright, well I guess now’s as good a time as any to break the hard news. I’ll be back, I hope. If anything happens to me back there, you get everything in the apartment,” you say with a goofy smile.

Trixie laughs and shoos you away just in time for the showroom doors to open and release a line of audience members into the area. You hurry toward a door on the left side of the stage which you assume leads to the backstage area, considering the security guard who stands in front of it. You clear your throat before announcing yourself.

“Uh, hi! I’m here to see Elvis. Well, everyone is here to do that, I guess, but I have this note and uh…well, here,” you say nervously and hand over the letter. He examines it as you wait and anxiously wring out your fingers.

“Y/N?”

Your head spins as a vaguely familiar voice sounds from behind you. A smile immediately spreads across your face as you recognize Elvis’ producer, Jerry. You give him a wave and a shrug as heat creeps into your face.

“Hi…” you greet him quietly.

“It’s nice to see you again,” he says, approaching you. He waves off the guard dismissively. “She’s good to go. He’s been expecting her for a long time. Here, I’ll show you back.”

The guard shimmies out of the way so Jerry can open the door. He gestures for you to enter with a smile and you thank him as you step through.

“Changed your mind, huh?” Jerry asks as you follow him through the backstage area.

“Uh, no actually. Not really. I’m just here to tell him to save his postage,” you say, feeling the need to justify yourself although you can’t explain why.

“Can’t blame you. These kinds of situations don’t work for everyone, although this will be a first for him.”

“Do you think he’ll be disappointed?” you ask jokingly.

“Oh I’d bet on it.” Apparently Jerry didn’t take your question as a joke. “Like I said before he’s been waiting for you, specifically, for a long time. I’m sure he’ll be very disappointed, but don’t let that stop you. It is your decision, after all. Good luck.”

Jerry points toward a dressing room door with big black letters which read ELVIS. You clear your throat and thank Jerry. He nods curtly and then spins on his heel to return to the work he probably needs to get done before the show starts. You straighten the hem of the blue dress he’d sent you and clutch firmly onto the strap of your purse, into which you’d also stuffed the lingerie at the last minute. It suddenly occurs to you that perhaps you were supposed to wear the lingerie under the dress…

Oh well, you think to yourself. Too late now.

You take a few deep breaths and smile awkwardly at the cast and crew who pass through the area on their way to get ready for the show. You know it’s ridiculous to think that everyone knows why you’re here but, despite the sheer unlikeliness of it all, you still feel embarrassed and shameful that you actually came. A few times, you debate backing away and returning to your table with Trixie to just enjoy the show. But something stops you every time. Eventually, your desire and curiosity move you forward and your knuckles knock on the door three times.

Ignoring the fight or flight mechanism that triggers in your chest, you wait for the door to open. In a matter of seconds, your wish is granted and he stands before you. He’s wearing an incredibly detailed white jumpsuit with flared pants and a popped collar. It’s unbuttoned all the way down to his waist and you gulp as your eyes immediately fly to the bare skin of his chest. As your gaze flicks back up to his face, you find him smirking down at you, his eyes already hungrily digesting your figure which stands in front of him. His body is elongated and pulled taut as he leans against the doorframe. He still looks good, as healthy and as sexy as ever, although his sideburns and hair are much longer than they had been almost a year ago.

“Princess,” he says in a voice even deeper than you remember. You begin to notice the painful thudding of your heart against your chest as his eyes take you in. “I figured you weren’t comin.”

This is it, the perfect opportunity for you to reject him and explain why you can’t take him up on his offer. But your brain stalls. It’s completely blank as you stare up at him with helpless doe eyes. He examines your figure once more before pushing the door open to create a space underneath his armpit for you to enter. You glance up at him, waiting for further instructions as if you need a translation. He flips his head toward the room.

“Inside.”

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

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#elvis #elvis 2022 #austin butler #milasfics #milaselvisfics #milasthings #milaselviscontent #sugar daddy elvis #daddy issues

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steelycunt · 1 year

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ten books 2 know me!

thank for you the tag @pancakehouse @fruity-individual @serethereal @rollercoasterwords !

-> skulduggery pleasant, derek landy.

starting with this one because this WAS my childhood i was. i never read percy jackson never read twilight read [redacted] and it wasnt even good but my dad thought id like these so he bought me the first skulduggery pleasant one day...oh man oh boy...these were. i was eight queuing up outside a whsmith with a schoolbag full of books for the author's booksigning...also he was so nice ta derek x

-> giovanni's room, james baldwin.

cannot get into this too much before i start wailing and biting and stuff but well. giovanni's room is my favourite book of all time i read most of it. last year in june laying on brighton beach while the sun was going down and i have never recovered from and will you bring me home again / yes. i'll bring you home again since and fear i never will. also! first james baldwin book i read who has come to be an author whose writing style i adore and carry in my mind whenever i try to write something myself.

-> young mungo, douglas stuart.

not the first book i ever cried at but. first book i ever experienced disgusting full body sobs while reading and fierce competitor also for. my favourite book. had to reread so much of those final pages because i couldnt concentrate with all the crying and after that i am so excited to never have to experience the physical chest-aching worry that i did for the duration of reading this. also i think the very quiet way love is written here through. very trivial small things is something i loved very much and that has stayed with me!

-> wuthering heights, emily bronte.

read this when i was about eleven, and then again a few weeks ago with my mum (whose favourite book it is) and it was still so. absolutely sickening i just think its excellent xx and without it we wouldn't have kate bush's 1978 single wuthering heights so xx think on that xx

-> the autobiography of malcom x, alex haley.

when i was a child my younger sister joined a sunday league football team and my dad used to give her a tenner every time she scored a goal. to even things out since i refused to get up at the arsecrack of dawn to contract hypothermia on a frozen football pitch, he started giving me books exclusively on malcolm x to read and would give me a tenner every time i finished one. this one was the first i read and was indeed the first book that ever made me cry at the end xx

-> my brilliant friend, elena ferrante.

so many of these are recent reads because it was only jan 2022 that i made a genuine effort to get back into reading for leisure and mbf is no different but well. the way friendship is written here is just unhinged and incredible and the series in general so far has been. there is nothing like it i fear

-> the raven boys, maggie steifvater.

gansey unfortunately.

-> macbeth, william shakespeare.

okay i know i know but. when you are studying it in englit class for your gcse it might as well be a book innit. anyway of all the texts i did for english both at gcse + a level macbeth is still my favourite and probably the most effort i ever put into an english essay. special shoutout to frankenstein which i can enjoy in hindsight but unfortunately it fucked me on the exam so out of bitterness it doesnt get a place here x

-> the secret history, donna tartt.

i did inhale this book but also it gets a place purely for being my first exposure to donna tartt's writing and style in general which is so very distinctive and has. undoubtedly had an effect on me for better or for worse we shall one day see but for now. who can say!

-> foster, claire keegan.

it is a little pamphlet of a book at eighty six pages but. i read it just over a month ago and havent properly stopped thinking about it since it was just everything quiet + mundane + understated that makes my brain start sparking and whirring and. im bringing it on holiday in the summer so i can read it again in the appropriate season xx

tagging. but no pressure. @gaewaren @dykefever @emerqldv @fastasyoucan1999 @forlorngarden @writteninverses @boyjoan !!

#also it doesnt quite earn a place but the enemy series by charlie higson? no one ever seemed to read those but that was my fucking last of #us. that was my mazerunner. that was my dystopian YA (bar the hunger games okay yeah i was a hunger games girl wasnt everyone)#considered putting the beatles in their generation on here but managed to avoid it thank god. also no future by matthew worley #which was a dense slog into british punk as a politics and youth subculture but also well i learned a lot about my favourite topic #tag game #reading tag #will b fun to see how i would do this a little while on from now. like what maintains its spot + what gets bumped n stuff

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handsingraphite · 2 years

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A Mishmash of Thoughts on KP World Tour Manila

I just need to get out my thoughts and feelings on everything that went down last night at the KPTS World Tour Manila stop. There aren’t a lot of places where I can scream into the void, but this is one such place.

As with all my screaming, it tends to get very long, though, so they’re under the cut.

On the Day of the Show

MOA Arena has a sporting event capacity of 15K to 20K. It can actually accommodate more at the producers’ discretion (of course, considering safety standards). It’s a huge venue, in short. Given record-high inflation, the fact that some people would have to fly in from their provinces and find accommodation etc -- I was afraid that the venue would only be about 30-50% full. Even though I do believe that without logistical constraints, they had enough of a fanbase here to fill that arena.

But when I arrived at the venue, there were so many people. That was a core memory for me: seeing the same level of enthusiasm as for any other touring artist, the organized fan projects, and the banners and lightsticks being passed around. I saw photo-op booths for the different cast members. People were so nice, too: I was the only one who’d gotten into Soundcheck, so I was on my own, but other fans immediately approached me, talked to me, and helped me out. It was such a nice atmosphere to be in.

I do regret not coming earlier to go around all the fanclub initiatives. I hadn’t realized that the Soundcheck winners would basically be held inside the venue already from 2PM.

(Side note: I think in the future, there’s a better way of going about this. I remember getting into Soundcheck for another artist in the past, and the Soundcheck itself was held not too long from the show start. It also did not have such a long queuing time. Being there by, technically 12PM for the strapping, meant that we could not leave for ~8 hours.)

Soundcheck

Ticket strapping started at 12PM which was a nightmare to queue in due to the noonday sun

I was at the entrance by 1:45PM, on the dot, but nothing was happening yet; we stood in line for 30-45 mins and in typical Filipino spirit, were jokingly heckling the marshals

“Kuya, anong petsa na kami papasok diyan!” (Kuya, what day will we be able to go inside!)

Someone asked the marshals if they saw the cast, and one Kuya said no. But that the important thing was that we get inside in an organized line HAHA

A girl wearing a Sailor Moon costume joined the line and everyone was ooh-ing and aah-ing over her; the BOC videographers actually did an interview with her, which she absolutely deserved

Another fan came wearing a really beautiful dress that may have been Thai traditional clothing (? not particularly sure about this)

There was a collective sigh of relief when they opened the lobby doors and we could feel the blast of cooler air reach us

We were finally let into the lobby area at about ~3PM, cue the lining up for the merchandise booth (it was empty at the time) and handing out of fan benefits

Soundcheck started at ~4PM and lasted for 20 mins, which felt a bit cut short but was fun to be part of nonetheless. Some highlights (I was focusing on Mile, Apo, Jeff, and Barcode the most):

Everyone just started screaming as the cast came out and they were very clearly taken aback by it, but also very happy

Apo was the pack leader/main spokesperson: I know so many fan accounts talk about how hyper he is, but you really can lose sight of him in a second if you’re not paying enough attention. He was zooming up and down the aisles, going from corner to corner, and was generally just very lovely and bouncing around. Also his English is so good, and throughout Soundcheck and the concert he took the lead in introductions

Apo accidentally hit Barcode in the face, lol, poor Barcode

Mile was quite chill and laid-back! But he had the biggest grin on his face the entire time. It’s funny to see Apo running circles around everyone, meanwhile Mile took his time walking. The word I’d use for it is that he seems very deliberate in his movements -- including making his way to Apo at the end

God bless Jeff Satur and his voice. Absolutely loved that it was 100% live, and he rendered Free Fall so well; there was a moment I managed to get on video of him with Barcode behind him, and Jeff stopped singing so he could hear the fans instead

Barcode looked so fluffy! Every time I see him I am reminded by my own younger brother, I love how shyly he was going around to greet the fans

At the ending climax of the first Thai song, Jeff/Apo/Tong/Bible etc were fooling around and raising their hands to the sky dramatically

We started chanting “Isa pa! Isa pa!” (One more! One more!) but they probably thought we were just making noise and they left lol although I’m sure even if they’d understood they would still have needed to end it there

We couldn’t go out of the lobby anymore, so we got to hear the sound of Slot Machine rehearsing

All in all, typical Soundcheck length and the cast were conscious of making sure to approach the different sections. I would like to have even a fraction of Apo’s energy. I would definitely like to have Jeff Satur’s voice.

The one thing to improve on is what I mentioned about queuing time, and relative time between Soundcheck and show start because just staying in one area for 6 to 8 hours is a bit of a downer. Plus a lot of people didn’t get to eat a proper lunch and/or dinner.

Show Proper (Scattered)

Slot Machine was such an energizing opener. They went for ~30 mins and the entire crowd was with them: Free Fall is absolutely divine to hear live. It’s that pump-up song, you know? They worked the crowd very well, and also made a lot of interactive moments e.g. asking us to make their sign, asking us to move in specific ways, throwing out guitar picks (?) A couple of fans behind me were losing their minds over the guitarist, it was really funny. They amped up they hype level very quickly, no lull moments.

There was a bit of a lull transitioning into the main show and so many fans were just randomly screaming thinking the cast was about to go out. But the roar that came out when they finally appeared was massive -- they just stood and took it all in, and a lot of them were failing to keep a straight face because of the crowd response. Everyone got a huge cheer which seemed to overwhelm many of them.

Throughout the show they kept calling the fans “beautiful”, “cute”, etc and complimenting the people who showed up in costumes. And the crowd ate it up lol we’re very easy to please: Show up and breathe, we’ll scream. Tell us we’re the best, and we scream harder.

Found myself thinking that Us was such a great performer, his styling was on point, and there’s just something indescribable about how he performed that really drew my attention. I was frustrated that I didn’t hit record, apparently, at the part where he goes, “Lips, hips, neck, fingers...” because that was such a good moment.

Barcode also has so much potential as a performer -- I’m thinking maybe the most out of them, just something in the way he carries himself at such a young age. He was charismatic during his Pretty Savage cover, cheeky and very much out to prove he’s capable of taking on a concept opposite of the wholesome, innocent vibe he had playing Porchay. Then he came up to the front and did This Song is Called You in the most earnest, puppy-like manner possible and tried to interact with everyone. We absolutely failed him when he stopped to let us sing the song, though. He very cutely fell to the ground in such a young teenager fashion, like, guys you had one job. Sorry, Barcode -- we’ll do better next time, so you have to come back, yeah?

Dance performances were fun, the crowd favorite was easily the bodyguard dance. When I tell you everyone around me got on their feet and surged to the barriers to start recording the moment that they started grinding on the stage floor... But then I remember that the Filipino crowd eats up these performances.

Honorary mentions are: the Bible/Build scene midway through the show (still can’t tell how much of the screaming was due to the pairing vs the performance itself lol), and the Bible/Ta weapon-wielding dance along the middle of the aisle.

In general for the dance performances, though, the light shows they had going on sort of fritzed my eyesight. Which isn’t on them, I just hadn’t noticed how much my eyesight has deteriorated -- but I couldn’t properly look at the stages head-on, there were just a few moments where the lights didn’t go crazy enough so I could actually pay attention.

At this point I’d say they have great energy and stage presence, and as mentioned above, Us and Barcode have potential. It’s not a section where you can wholesale say they’re good at dancing, though, so like me, you’ll need to not take these so seriously and just enjoy what they’re giving.

Came alive for Perth’s Sailor Moon performance. He had a bit where he mentioned about the fan costumes and I thought they would call up the fan who wore Sailor Moon, but they didn’t, unfortunately. But I was very hyped for this skit because it’s just really good fun and a breather, and also, I’ve loved Sailor Moon as a kid. It definitely felt like a moment where I was harkening back to my childhood and Perth also fully committed to the bit, along with Ping, Pong and JJ, which made it even better.

Show Highlights (for me)

No words for how wonderful Jeff was the entire night. He had my favorite performances. Especially him showcasing his musicianship with Why Don’t You Stay, because he makes dynamic vocal choices every time and his runs were so controlled. This is the sound of a singer who has spent years honing their craft. I’m really looking forward to him having a solo concert and would be among the first to buy tickets.

I have a hundred thousand feelings about him choosing to sing Leaves by Ben & Ben as the tailored song choice for the Manila stop. Aside from the fact that his voice criminally suits it, and that he sung it in a way that made it feel new -- Leaves means a lot to me personally. It was the song that got me through the early months of the pandemic, when there was so much bleak news coming in. I remember I would play it every day as a mantra to get to the next day, trying to keep living, trying to reassure myself I wasn’t alone in this though it often felt that way during the lockdowns. So thank you, Jeff. I fully expected he would sing one of the more classic OPM songs e.g. Hawak Kamay, but this song choice was even better. And he rendered it so well: the original song is softer, like a gentle reminder of things that would be better, but Jeff made this one sound like a conviction. Things are better, and even if they aren’t, they will be.

I would say that everyone’s cheers for Tong was the biggest one of the night, especially during the ending ment -- even before his declaration. He and Tankhun are universally loved. It was very sweet how he tried to tell the fans to conserve their energy during his performance in the first half of the show. (Note: That’s what tells you he’s new here: Manila concert crowds don’t let up until the very last second.) But of course I’m also going to bring up his cute moments at the ending ment, when he said he liked hearing us scream (at just about anything they did at that point, help), and when he asked to speak in Thai. I don’t think any of us expected he’d make a declaration right then and there, and right on cue someone brought a Pride flag (props to them for getting it past the guards) because it was such a pivotal moment in the show when Tong took it and waved it.

I have so many feelings about that moment. I’m so proud of Tong, because in the society we are in, it takes courage and heart to make a coming out statement. I’m happy for him, that he felt he was in a safe place, that he could say it with such strength. For us in the Philippines who are part of the LGBTQIA+ community or are allied with it, it may seem like we’re more accepting. But our general society still isn’t. Anti-discrimination and same-sex marriage bills languish as our politicians bring out bibles to argue against the granting of equal rights. Every day is a battle to get through, being who you authentically are, without being judged and oppressed by the surrounding environment. But we fight, every day, still. That was -- is -- a triumphant moment in the show, and for us in the community as well, to be seen and heard. To show a solid front. We all hold the line for each other.

Not everyone has to make a coming out statement. God knows Tong didn’t owe it to us, or to anyone but himself, but he still did it and I’m very grateful to him for it. But to everyone else who are still figuring it out, or are pressured, or maybe don’t feel safe enough yet to speak their truth, know that it is alright. We process it in different ways, and also need a conducive environment that will keep us safe.

Ending ment was very touching and meaningful for everyone, because the fanclubs (both local and international) prepared a fan video to play. It clearly surprised the boys because they were ready to start saying their thanks, then they had to turn around and watch. A lot of them started going teary -- but Mile was in permanently smiling mode, and so was Bible. The fanclubs put a lot of effort into making that MV -- I heard there was supposed to be another one that didn’t get aired due to some mix-up with Live Nation, but they’ve said they would post the part that was cut.

Job was the first to speak and he was still recovering from the MV reveal, so he couldn’t find the words right away. Then the “We love you” chant started.

Barcode also got his own chant and it was such an Aww moment. He once again recounted his past, of not being able to travel abroad when he was younger. I’ve been in the same position before, so this message resonated with me. I really hope he finds more success and is able to bring his family around with him abroad soon.

Jeff is an angel and he earned Manila’s loyalty tonight. We love good singers. Really hoping he comes back with his own show.

Apo got his own chant as well, and couldn’t speak for a good few minutes waiting for the fervor to die down a bit so he could be heard. I remember him speaking very fluently in English almost the entire time, and he told us they’d been invited to Manila before (him and Mile), but that they waited until they could bring the entire cast and crew with them. (Note: I don’t remember anything apart from that because he glowed the entire time. I was a bit distracted.)

Mile was adorable, what the fuck. He looked teary-eyed but was smiling the whole way through, and said he was supposed to visit the Philippines before but did not push through because of the pandemic. He also said his father and brother had told him that the Philippines/Manila was unique and cute. He did seem so overwhelmed, said his “heart was shaking” at some point, likely because of the crowd response. It was funny because he said something about wanting to show his shaking heart, which then prompted the crowd to start chanting, “Take it off! Take it off!” pertaining to his shirt so he could “show his heart.” Personally endearing to me that he was smiling at first, thinking we were just making random noises, and then the slow descent into him realizing what we were actually asking him to do. He said a very bashful, “Next time, next time” to placate the crowd.

He asked to speak in Thai to give a more eloquent answer. But there seemed to be some issues with the translator, they couldn’t really catch up to whatever he was saying and there was just silence, so he took the reins back up in English. I was a bit sad by this, that he couldn’t express himself as he wanted to, and have some additional thoughts about the in-show translations later.

Mile and Apo. They deserve their own section for the many moments they had during the show:

The opening scene was well-choreographed, and who doesn’t love Apo as Porsche struggling his way out of his bindings while Mile as Kinn walks about like he owns the place (he probably does). It’s an entirely other thing to see Apo kicking around the place with so much strength and grace. There was a great push-and-pull atmosphere between them, up until Apo ran.

The pier scene was a major kilig moment and everyone was shouting for the kiss every other interval. Once again -- some notable translation issues here. But they were very sweet, Apo’s body acting was great (he was flopping around while standing), and they added in a few more unique touches in how they interacted with each other. Nothing too major. We were all holding our breaths for the kiss and was disappointed when the lights turned off. :(

The post-canon beach bar scene is now one of my core memories. Apo and Mile came in holding hands, pleased as can be, and then Apo made Mile do the cutest twirl. In most fancams of this segment, the sound was always too grainy to make out their singing, but I was pleasantly surprised to find Mile and Apo sing really darn well, too. Obviously not at Jeff Satur-level, but certainly in the category of “those high school boys who would sing and make people fall in love with them.”

When You Say Nothing At All is also personally meaningful to me, given I grew up with my mother playing it all the time and my friends usually covering it for performances. The crowd sang along, as always. Apo kept touching Mile and everyone kept screaming about it; so he touched him even more. Mile had to pause singing at some point and looked so giddy. At another point he just kept trying to make us sing some more even though the song was clearly at its end, going “When you say...” and the crowd sort of confusedly singing back, “Nothing at all...” several times. Apo was also clearly enjoying the sing-along because he took off both of his in-ears to listen, and only put them back in when it was his turn.

Fly Me to the Moon is of course, a piece of the Mile & Apo lore, and Apo sounded really good singing it. He has a strong and clear voice, and a tone made for the more relaxed, slower songs. I’d love to share a video of it because the sound is actually very clear, but the image quality is shit so I’m figuring that out. In any case, cheeky Apo realized pretty early on that we would scream at whatever they did, and do whatever they asked. I think there was a moment where he stumbled a bit, like he was supposed to sing the rest of the song, but then made Mile stop and sweetly asked us if we would sing along with him. Then he restarted even stronger than his first pass at the song, and Mile was having the time of his life off to the side watching this unfold.

Mile did the cutest little tongue-out expression when he said Kinn and Porsche would sing us another song backstage. Please elaborate on this, good sir!

They were so cute running out of the stage, still tightly holding hands :(

Their fanservice segment where Apo first walked out wearing their Thai national costume and looked gorgeous doing so. Then Mile came out dancing in the cutest way to the cutest background music, and came hopping down exactly like a Samoyed to join Apo, where they very cutely walked down the aisle making Thai hand gestures.

I got to see them really up close when they went down the stage. Essays have been written about Mile and Apo looking unreal. I’m not sure I’m the one with the words to make it real.

Apo really does look exactly that beautiful as he does in photos, and actually even more so, except he’s doing it while living and breathing and glowing right in front of you. He’s so gorgeous. His features are very sharp and pronounced. There’s no mistaking him and his physique for anyone else’s. And as my seatmates would say, he’s really just so hot and walks like he’s the shit, which he really, really is.

Meanwhile, Mile has a smile that my friend describes as the “most genuine ever” which is a description I’m fully onboard with. He’s very pretty, much more handsome than even his photos would have you believe. I’m not sure how that’s possible. But he radiated so much happy energy, and was very attractive while doing so. He was just simultaneously laid back and yet the one person in the room you had to pay attention to the moment he decides it.

Their many, many moments together in the ending ment and even during Soundcheck. They would separate and then gravitate toward each other. I loved all of the guitar moments during Apo’s band solo, when he and Mile walked down the aisle in perfect replica of the rockstar guitarist with his vocalist muse. When Mile knelt down doing his guitar solo as Apo walked to the front of the stage and rocked out to the beat, it felt a little bit like he was paying homage. Then he sat by the side of the stage and interacted with fans while Apo worked the front.

The hand-off was already expected but no less cuter for it, when Mile willingly gave over his guitar to Apo even though he was perfectly capable of settling it in its stand himself. But are we going to complain about an iconic MileApo callback? No, we are not. Mile likes to remind us that only Apo gets to touch his precious things, and we are all here just to say, “Yes sir, noted sir.”

Mile’s This Love performance was so fun, the crowd was hyped singing along with him, and he spent a lot of time on the front stage rocking out! He moves so much like a dad, but like an attractive one? This is the weirdest combination I’ve ever had to write out. But it makes sense? I don’t think there’s any way to describe it? Any way his tone suits the song and I think he chose well. The guitars did sound a biiiit wayward without him there as well, which let me just say, he’s a really skilled guitarist and carries a lot of the technical moments on that instrument. The rest of the band are pretty good instrumentalists as well, they sounded quite solid.

I can’t fail to mention Apo as an amazing crowd-worker. He matched the Manila crowd’s energy really well, and was very charismatic, whether speaking in English or in Thai. He knows how to initiate crowd moments and was just a very vibrant presence on the stage. Also he very much projects himself as the leader in a lot of things, I think I somehow expected Mile to do that, and was surprised to find it was the opposite.

There was a cute moment of Apo gravitating to Mile when Mile was about to throw out his guitar picks to the fans, they talked for a bit, Mile threw the pick, and then Apo gave him a light butt tap as he walked past him.

Also a cute moment when Apo made Mile dance with Jeff, and I did capture the part where Barcode and Tong piled onto the dancing as well, it was a fun quartet moment.

I just really want to say it was so great and affirming to be able to see them in person, performing their scenes again, and I really, really want more acting projects from them as a couple or on their own. I need it.

Wrap-up

When I came on show day, I was burnt out at the end of nearly three weeks of stressful work, averaging 3-4 hours of sleep daily, and barely recovered enough to be energetic in a 3-hour long concert. I was worried I wouldn’t enjoy it from feeling so miserable: I developed a migraine during Soundcheck, and then had the issue with my eyesight fritzing because of the lights.

But the Manila concert crowd can buoy you straight out from hell. It was such an energetic, good-vibes bunch, where us and our seatmates enabled each other, screamed together, and just kept feeding off the surrounding energy. It was also great that they allowed some Gen Ad/Upper Box seats down to fill emptier seats in the middle, so you could really see the full strength of the crowd. I would estimate it at about 75 to 80% full, with the gaps really being in the weird upper corner sections. Overall, the experience was as fun as it was because of the crowd’s energy and incessant determination to support the cast in every way possible.

I loved being part of that crowd, and most of all, I loved watching the cast fall in love with it as well. I’ve never aspired to be a famous artist -- but I can imagine this is the vindication one feels, when they are recognized by so many, and see that much support being thrown at them. I’m happy we made them so happy. The entire time, they were clearly walking around half in disbelief, but managed to stay on task despite the frequent screaming.

You can see how hard they’ve worked to make the show as it is, to showcase everyone and interact with the fans as much as possible.

It was not without its hiccups: I have a major complaint regarding the translations. At some point I almost preferred there being no translations at all, because it sounded like bland dubbing in between their lines, and there were entire sections where the translations just... didn’t come, like in Nodt’s speech as Big, or when Mile was talking during his ending ment. I understand translating is hard work, maybe there were audio issues as well backstage. This is generally something that’s the producer’s responsibility. So hopefully Live Nation, if they ever produce another KinnPorsche show, makes it a better translating experience because it was a hiccup that wasn’t easy to overlook.

There were also quite a few sound and lighting issues, particularly in the opening of the show where we paused for a significant lull (5-10 mins). I’ve already talked about Live Nation’s timing with the Soundcheck, but they also had so many issues regarding the concert preparation.

Those aside, the cast and crew made the entire experience worth it. But I’d be remiss if I also didn’t mention the other international fans who joined us, and all of the fanclubs’ hard work putting together the ads around the city, the food and gift support, the photo booths, and the fan concert projects. The crowd was insane last night, and I felt very grateful to have been part of it all.

As I’m writing this, they’re already flying back to Thailand. I’m sad they didn’t get to go around more as quite a few of them wanted to. I hope they do get the opportunity, though, at least privately if it’s not as part of a public event. I really do look forward to seeing them again.

If you’ve reached the end, thank you for reading through all of the word vomit. And if you did also go to the Manila concert, do share your experience as well! Always great to hear the fans’ different perspectives.

TL;DR

KP cast member: *breathes*

KP Manila concert crowd: *INCOHERENT SCREAMING, LAUGHING, CRYING, LIGHTSTICK SHAKING*

#blog #long post #kpwt manila #fanaccount #rambling #worth it #mileapo

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pink-booty-butts · 1 year

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Payback (Jamie Winton x Reader)

Pairing: Jamie Winton x fem!Reader

Word Count: 769 (hehehe)

Summary: Jamie and you drink hot chocolate and kiss :)

Warnings: extremely suggestive & mentions of sex/sexual activities, but no actual smut

A/N: I want a Jamie for Christmas

---

You decide to blow on your hot chocolate this time, though you're not sure if it matters considering you've already burned the roof of your mouth and tongue after one sip. As you're focusing on this, you don't notice Jamie sit down next to you and wrap his free hand around your waist.

“Did you burn your tongue again?" he asks, with a cheeky smile.

“…Yes," you respond regretfully. You look at him as he sips his drink like it's nothing.

"I did tell you to wait."

"Ugh I know," you whine, letting out a bit of a laugh. “But it's cold and I got excited.” Hearing this, Jamie puts his mug down on a coaster on the coffee table, before proceeding to take yours from your hands and do the same thing. He wraps his arms around you again, and brings his face close to yours.

“There are other ways to get warm, you know," he suggests before giving you a chaste kiss.

“Oh my gosh Jamie Winton, are you implying what I think you're implying?" He moves his face to your neck, and kisses under your ear lightly.

“Only if you want to, of course," he blushes.

"I mean I always want to, I don't know why anyone in a relationship with you wouldn't want to bone at least 5 times a day."

He moves his face to look back at you after this response, feeling slightly proud of himself and slightly embarrassed at the same time. “Are you saying you want to have sex 5 times a day?"

“At least," you emphasize, before wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him again. The two of you are smiling through your kisses, the hot chocolate and Christmas movie you were supposed to be watching are long forgotten. Jamie starts moving his hand up your sweater, before the two of you hear the front door open and quickly move away from each other and try to act normal. Forgetting his... growing problem, you quickly throw a pillow at Jamie and he hastily places it over his lap. Then, Dave walks into the living room, and stops abruptly at the sight of you two.

“Hi Dave!" you squeak, trying to sound natural. “We were just about to watch a Christmas movie if you want to join.” Jamie side eyes you at this comment, seemingly disappointed that you two wouldn't continue your activities in his bedroom. You wanted to do nothing more, of course, and were secretly hoping Dave would say no, but thought it would look suspicious if you didn't invite him.

“Ooooh which one?" he asks, intrigued, and seemingly oblivious to what you two were about to do when he first walked in. Dave looks at the TV and sees the movie you have queued up, and cringes. “Ah no thanks, that one's absolute rubbish." He glances at the coffee table and sees your mugs of hot chocolate, and his eyes go wide with excitement. He grabs yours, since it looks like it’s barely been touched. "I'll take this hot chocolate though, have fun guys!" He whistles, before walking back to his room.

“Did he just…” you trail off, and Jamie lets out a laugh. He moves the pillow from his lap to his side, seemingly having calmed down quickly due to Dave’s sudden appearance.

“I can make you another one, if you want.” After saying this, Jamie starts getting up to walk towards the kitchen, but your hand grabbing his wrist stops him. He looks back down at you, smiling with a raised eyebrow.

“I think I’d rather try out these ‘other ways of getting warm’ you mentioned,” you grin mischievously at him. Jamie was expecting you to stand up and go to his room with him, but stumbles on top of you instead due to you pulling him down on the couch. You kiss him when his face reaches yours, slipping your tongue in his mouth. You pull him closer by his sweater, and though Jamie reciprocates your heated touches for a few moments, he stops when he feels you reach his belt buckle.

Pulling away, both of you breathing a bit heavy, he asks, “H-here? Dave could walk in here at anytime, shouldn’t we go to my room instead?”

“He won’t,” you grin, excited at the thrill of getting caught. Jamie doesn’t seem very impressed though, still blushing and awkward about the idea. You pull him closer to you and shift your bodies on the couch, so you are on top of him. “But if he does, it’s payback for stealing my hot chocolate.”

#jamie winton x reader #jamie winton fanfiction #jamie winton fic #jamie winton imagine #x reader #x reader fic #x reader fanfiction #ymata fanfiction #ymata imagine #you me and the apocalypse fic #you me and the apocalypse fanfiction

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livingforcoopsandoknutzy · 2 years

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here's day 1 of o'knutzy week! (this is queued for midnight my time so if it's early for you that's why)

@oknutzyweek

day 1 -> win or lose

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

It was quiet when the boys got inside. It always was after a big loss.

The boys were all disappointed. They were supposed to have the game in the bag but they were all distracted. It had been a rough week for everyone and no one had their head in the game. Leo had gotten to start this game but after two missed goals they traded him in for Winter who had given him a sympathetic pat on the back as they switched out.

It wasn't often Leo got to start so the disappointment and guilt he felt at having failed so epically weighed heavily on his shoulders.

Logan and Finn could tell. They knew exactly how he felt. They all had bad days when they didn't play their best and they all understood the guilt at having let the team down.

They also knew how much worse it was for Leo because he put a lot more pressure on himself due to his need to prove himself as the youngest member of the team.

They put their bags away before sitting on the couch in silence. "I'm gonna make some food." Leo said in a soft voice, getting up. Logan made a move to grab his hand but he shook his head and walked out of the room so Logan frowned and dropped his hand limply.

Finn put an arm around Logan and pulled him close. "It's okay. It's just a rough night, you know how it is." Logan leaned up and kissed Finn's cheek before settling into his side.

"I know, I just wish I could make it better." It was always hard when Leo was upset because he didn't want anyone to comfort him. He didn't think he deserved it.

He would come to you when he was ready, but if he wasn't there was absolutely nothing you could do without him getting mad or closing off. It was the only time he'd ever lashed out at his boys. It made him feel trapped.

So Finn and Logan just had to let him come to them. They turned on their comfort movie, Meet the Robinson's, and sat in silence.

It was only about 15 minutes later when Leo walked in. His eyes were red and the boys could immediately tell he was holding back tears.

"Oh, sweetheart. Come here." Logan said, scooting out from under Finn's arm so Leo could sit in the middle.

As soon as the words were out the tears started flowing freely down his face and he collapsed into the space they'd made. Finn rubbed his back and let Leo rest his head on his shoulder. Logan ran his hand through Leo's hair comfortingly.

"This was just one bad day, sweetheart." Logan mumbled softly as the movie played quietly in the background. "You can't blame yourself for messing up. It's human."

Leo shook his head and sniffed. His eyes were an even deeper blue with the tears pooled in them.

"I let too many get past me. I was so stupidly distracted. It was supposed to be an easy game and I let them score twice. I let the team down."

Finn hushed him gently and kissed the top of his head. "Everyone single one of us messed up tonight, love." He said gently. "You missing two blocks was not what caused us to lose the game. You didn't disappoint anyone because we all love you and we all know that you did your best today. That doesn't mean you did the best you ever have but you did the best you could today and we all appreciate that."

Leo sniffled again but his eyes were beginning to dry.

"Do you blame anyone else on the team for losing?" Leo made a sound of protest. "Of course not."

Logan hummed and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Then why would you think we blame you?"

Leo frowned at that and they fell quiet. Their attention drifting back to the TV.

Logan felt Leo grab his hand and squeeze. "Thank y'all." He said quietly, his eyes never leaving thr TV.

Finn pressed a kiss to his temple and Logan raised their joint hands to press a kiss to the back of Leo's hand.

"Always."

#leo knut #logan tremblay #finn o'hara #lumosinlove #sweater weather #o'knutzy #o'knutzy week 2022

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mrgammakay · 1 year

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Remember when memes used to be questionnaires instead of gifs??? I AM ANCIENTTTTTT. @imindhowwelayinjune has placed a curse upon my house and now I’m honor-bound to dispel it.

Last song: Burn by 2WEI & Edda Hayes

Last show: The English was the last show I watched all the way through. I’m here for a good western and gotta use that accidental Amazon Prime 30 day free trial while it’s there.

Last Movie: I honestly can’t remember. Last time I was on a plane with in-flight entertainment, I watched Jurassic World: Dominion. It was terrible. But, hey, there were dinosaurs eating people.

Currently watching: I’m making my way through Rise of Empires: Ottoman Season 2. Work is holding me back but I WILL watch ancient political corruption, thanks. If all documentaries were shot like historical dramas, they would be my dragon hoard and I’d roll in a pile of them like a cat in catnip.

Currently reading: I’ve been trying to finish Women of Troy for over a month now, but I got distracted by a strong desire for magic ninja content. I also have A River Enchanted and Babel queued up in the reading roster.

Current obsession: I will never be able to escape my preoccupation with Uchihas. At this point, they’ve haunted me for over two decades and will haunt me for decades to come. I’ve been rereading the manga since Christmas. My DnD group has listened to 45 minutes of dissertations on power scaling problems in Naruto canon. Kishimoto continues to drag me to emotional narrative peaks joined together, not by sensible plot arcs or logical character motivations, but decimated, wasteland valleys of absolute plot fuckery.

Anyway. Sasuke’s a bitch, Itachi’s a god, and Shisui is a pure tragedy. I’ll be in this hell for the rest of my life.

------

Five books I’ve enjoyed since September

Okay, I basically didn’t read in October or November but I sprinted through about 10 books in December to try to reach my reading goal for the year (unsuccessful).

She Who Became the Sun by Shelley Parker-Chan. New favorite book of all time. It’s got all my kinks: war, ancient history, swords, horses, deep-seated loathing (self and otherwise), vague mythological magic systems, khans. Never in my life have I connected with a character in a more visceral, unwanted way. My existential crisis was full-blown. I didn’t want to identify with a eunuch on a profound level, but here we are.

Greywaren by Maggie Steifvater. I reread the whole series before going into the final book, so I can’t remember if Greywaren was my favorite. But I’ve never read a magical world similar to the nonsense that goes on in the Dreamer Trilogy. It’s real good. Ronan is also a peak character. Aggressive goth Gryffindor farmboy representation matters.

Rogues: True Stories of Grifters, Killers, Rebels and Crooks by Patrick Radden Keefe. Like true crime but don’t like gory details? I don’t understand you, but this is the book you’re looking for.

Furysong by Rosaria Munda. I found the character arc resolutions a little unsatisfying in the end but overall, this is probably my top young adult fantasy series. Dragons. There’s so many dragons.

I’m Glad My Mom Died by Jennette McCurdy. What a ride. I saw a lot of her interviews about this book before I read it, so I knew exactly what I was getting into. It’s powerful for someone to talk about their bullshit in a way that doesn’t sugar coat it.

-----

Last line written

I wrote almost nothing this year, but somehow this question caught me when I’ve just started working on a project again. The rust on this keyboard has been corroding since 2020.

“Still alive?” He asks. Irunae looks remarkably better than Énkava feels. He’s sitting up, for one. “So you’re not completely useless, then.”

#gammanigans #ask meme

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ecoamerica · 22 days

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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dragonmuse · 2 years

Note

If you could do something about the various pet names stede and eddy have for each other I’d super appreciate it!! Not a day goes by I don’t think about babygirl, golden boy, and my darling girl from some of ur ficlets

(I’m away for the next few days, so I’ve queued up a bit of content for all of you! If I don’t reply it’s hopefully because I’m with the two dearest friends, who are tolerating my endless OFMD nattering. Cheers, my dears!)

When they got married, Stede had imagined that he and Mary would find a way to be comfortable with each other. They would have long talks perhaps, or enjoy a hobby or two together. He imagined a day when they would cuddle up on the couch, snug and happy in each other’s company. Maybe they’d use endearments.

Instead, the icy wall had only grown thicker and colder. They both made attempts. Too many to count, but the distance between them only grew. He’d only tried to call her something other than her name once and it had been so mortifying that they had both fled the room.

The first time Stede called Eddy ‘honey’, it slid slick through his lips and he barely registered it. It was just who Eddy was. Because Eddy was cuddling on the couch, and having long chats about nothing at all. Eddy was all the beautiful romantic dreams Stede had had somehow. Sure they had their faults and were all too human, but so was Stede. He was hardly going to hold any of that against her.

“What do you think?” She would say, vacillating in front of their shared closed. It made a rainbow from his pastels to her jewel tones. “Dress or a jumpsuit, you think?”

“We might go for a walk along the river after dinner if that influences your choice.” He pulled down a shirt, butter soft. It was one she often ran her hands down and that had started to influence his fashion.

“What color jacket are you wearing?” She asked.

“Yellow, I think.”

“I’ll do the blue dress then,” they decided. Coordinating beautifully one to the other.

How could he not breathe out, “My darling girl, you’ll look lovely.”

He hadn’t been sure how they’d take it and maybe regretted it a little as soon as it was off his tongue. Eddy just gazed at him speculatively from under her lashes, then asked tentatively,

“Am I?”

“Lovely? Every day.” He flushed, wishing he could stop doing it. It made him feel like a silly little boy, trying to beguile someone with crushed dandelions.

“Thanks, but.. I meant the other bit.”

“Yes,” he said in a rush, taking their hand in his. “Of course you are. If you don’t mind it.”

“I like it. I like it a lot.”

How could it not loosen him even further? The endearments spilled out of him. Perhaps because they had been corked for so long. And Eddy loved them. He could tell now, the longer they were together. If he said one just the right way at just the right moment, sometimes he could even head off one of their melancholy turns. Him! Silly little Bonnet, who could never quite read the room, had figured out how to conjure a smile and a laugh out of his beloved.

He had a beloved. Maybe when they’d been together for absolute decades, he’d get over that, but so far no dice.

“Would you like to order in?” Stede asked her not long after he’d first crowded her in a doorway and called her babygirl. That had been a night to remember. “Or should we venture out?”

“Order in,” they decided. Eddy was sprawled over the couch, hair hanging loose over one arm. She had wrapped herself in one of his robes, letting it drape open over her chest.

“Preference?”

“You choose, my love,” she said casually. “I don’t mind.”

“Oh, I-” he looked down sightlessly at the pile of take out menus. “Yes, of course.”

Eddy paused and then tilted their head back further, getting him full in their eye-line, “You okay?”

“Yes,” he dropped the menus. “Only say it again.”

She smiled and held her arms out to him. “My love.”

They said it often after that, a little call and response to his own endearments. It warmed him through, knocking away years of chill.

“Darling girl,” he’d say right into their ear and they’d rub his back and call him ‘golden boy’ right against his lips.

Neither of them had names they said in anger. Even in their lowest moments, they fought clean. Even when he was most annoyed, Eddy would just have to sigh or turn her face from him, to make him want to draw her back.

“Darling girl,” he’d coax and if he was lucky, she would swing her legs into his lap.

“Rub my knee, would you, my love?”

And he would. He always would.

#leda house and the kraken verse #ficlet #babygirl and goldenboy #eddy teach bonnet #stede teach bonnet

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inconmess · 1 year

Note

For the CR Spell Hurt/Comfort: 19 Feign Death, Chetney.

*scratches my head for a moment* I totally forgot a queued this one up and tbh I don't know much about the spell and its ritual so... I am kinda treating it as a faked death scenario. And I love faked death scenarios :3

Feigned death: You touch a willing creature and put it into a cataleptic state that is indistinguishable from death.

Also, just to tease, I had two other ideas in mind but I choose this one. Enjoy! One was a prank and the other was an escape.

"You know..." the masked figure said as it tilted its head. "You've been causing my employer a lot of damage along without your tiny little group..."

Don't hesitate to ask!

"And I am not going to give up their location. You can do whatever you want to do with me," he growled, though it didn't come through as intended because of something that blocked his connection with the wolf.

"I can do whatever I want with you?" it said in a pleased tone, lined with a touch of amusement.

"As long as you don't go after my friends."

"Oh I know you won't give them up. Neither will I search them up. Because you will lead them to me," a smugness in its voice that sent shivers down Chetney's back.

A tendril came up and touched the old gnome's cheek. "You have to remember, resurrection doesn't work anymore."

Chetney internally panicked, wishing he could move his frozen body as the face spoke some words and the world turned black.

"After all," the thing chuckled, "the most emotional people take the most rash decisions."

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

"Is this the right place, F.R.I.D.A?" Imogen asked, unsure as they approached the worn down hut.

"Yeah, these are where the tracks led to. Why?"

"Because I feel no one here. Absolutely no thoughts."

"Maybe there might be something to block thoughts?"

"Or they could've moved again." Fearne said flippantly. "I mean, we did narrowly miss them the last time also."

"No, no. This time he specifically left clues, like he wanted us to find them. Even if this is a trap, Chetney should be here."

"Unless he's been killed."

"No, it wouldn't. Mr. Pock O'Pea is leverage. Whatever it is, it would need him alive in order to negotiate."

"Well, we need to go inside first to see if our assumptions are true then." Deanna snapped as she blasted the door open without any warning, the rest of them hastily bracing themselves for any sort of impact from any traps.

In the end... it was kind of anti climatic. No traps, no guards to fight, and no sight of anyone at all. And they had come in expecting for a fight that this switch immediately set in a feeling of uneasiness in them. The hut was silent. Dead silent.

"Should we... check the rooms?"

"I hope they are just good at hiding..."

Bedroom? Empty. Cooking area? Empty. Some kind of a store room? Empty. Every single room was empty and now they were confused. Were they even in the right place? Was there some sort of a-

"Secret panel!" Fearne shouted as she swung back the carpet with a triumphant shake of the body as they all stare at the badly disguised trap door.

"Our last hope."

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

"Maybe we shouldn't have joked about it?" FCG said as they all stared down at the unresponsive werewolf.

"Maybe he's just faking it? You know, like how some people say that bears will leave it's prey if they play dead?"

"There's no fucking heartbeat or thoughts! There is always thoughts even when he sleeps!" Imogen shouted.

"And he also snores. Quite loudly." Fearne unhelpfully added.

"Anyone has diamonds on them?" Deanna asked in panic, trying to remember the spell for Revivify.

"Ressurection magic isn't working, remember?"

"Well, we said that for sending also and it worked close range! We have to try! It's Chetney!"

"I still believe he is pretending to be dead."

"No injuries, no nothing. He wasn't even tortured. Couldn't he just escape by summoning the wolf?"

"He was fucking captured because he couldn't access the wolf!"

"And it's been 5 days since he fucking missing! Revivify wouldn't even work if he's been dead for that long!"

"He would've started to decompose then!"

"Or did someone cast some preservation spell?"

"I don't know what sick fuck would ever-"

"They would, to make a statement. Look," F.R.I.D.A said as they pulled out a piece of paper hidden inside Chetney's jumpsuit.

Love the gift I gave you? If you didn't, meet me at the tower. You know which one.

"That fucking son of a bitch. He wants us to come to the tower? I will fucking-"

"D, it's a trap."

"I know it is a fucking trap and I am going to go into it anyway-"

"What are we going to do now? Leave the body?"

"Of course we are not leaving the body! We are taking it with us!"

"Because if you want to go after the man, we have to leave the body here."

"Are we... burying him?"

"Don't. I am afraid of being buried alive. Also, does anyone have water, I am fucking thirsty and those bastards haven't been taught to respect old people."

Everyone screamed.

__________________________________________

Well, I read that the spell only lasts an hour so... what the guy presumed was they would find the body sooner and confront him before Chetney "revives" but when have they ever worked according to the bad guy's plan?

#critical role #chetney pock o'pea #feigned death #writing prompt #ask answered #frida #deanna leimert #fearne calloway #imogen temult

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softguarnere · 2 years

Note

hi, I have a ship request if you’re still doing those <3 I love your writing and these other ships, they make me feel so warm and fuzzy!

so physically I’m around 5’1 with warm brown hair that lightens in the sun but gets dark in winter. personality wise I’m an absolute dork :) I’m super loyal to my friends and really value information of all kinds. my goal when socializing is making others feel cozy and appreciated. it’s super easy to make me laugh which I love about myself. I tend to be creative through my hobbies and academics but it can be hard for me to stick out full projects. it can also take a bit to get me to socialize or leave my comfort zone but I always have a ton of fun when I do (gotta feed off the extroverts lol)

I love music, creating hyper specific playlists, and playing my baritone uke. I was absolutely a theater kid. I can be fairly athletic when I want to be, I grew up playing and enjoying sports. I also love baking and sewing when I have the time. when my energy’s low I usually spend my free time reading, writing bits and bobs, and playing video games

thank you so much dove <3 <3

Hi Anon! Thank you so much for the compliment, I really appreciate it 🥺💕And I completely get what you mean about the extroverts lol -- Idk if I've ever related to a statement more in my life

I ship you with . . .

Babe Heffron!

Knew it had to be Babe when you said the thing about being a dork, lol (in a good way, I promise!) I just think the vibes would match so perfectly. I totally see you guys being that couple that are always up to some sort of mischief, or are always making plans that somehow end up sending you on some sort of crazy adventure, and I think it would be very sweet

Babe loves your laugh. Lucky for him, since it's easy to make you laugh, he gets to hear it often. Sometimes you try to hold it in, and something about the way it slips out after you've tried and failed to hold it back after one of his jokes just makes his heart soar

Babe is so extroverted -- especially when he's around Bill -- that his energy is infectious. It's so easy to be outgoing around him, and to branch out and meet new people when he's by your side. But at the same time, if you need to recharge your social battery, he will 100% come up with an overelaborate distraction so that you can slip away (this boy would do anything for you, omg it's so sweet)

He understands if you need to be alone to recharge, too, as much as he'd prefer to be spending time with you. You come home from a party worn out? Hey, he's got you a mug of tea and has queued up whatever show you've been watching so that you can enjoy a moment alone

"The quickest way to a man's heart is through his stomach" Which is so him. If you're trying to bake a new recipe, you don't even have to ask him if he'll sample some of it, because chances are, he's stolen a little bit of whatever you've made while your back is turned. He gives honest feedback, even though he's convinced you couldn't bake something bad if you tried

In a modern au, Babe's Spotify library is almost entirely playlists that you've made. He tries to make you playlists in return, but then he gets super embarrassed and sets them to private, because he knows that his music taste isn't as cool as yours. But when you accidentally discover a few of them and tell him how much it means to you, he's blushing for days every time he thinks about it

Babe is super competitive -- with everything. It's just who he is. It's probably why he and Bill get along so well, because they're always roughhousing and racing and competing over nothing. When you first get together, he's determined to go easy on you in sports and video games, because he is not going to have a repeat of the great-hole-in-the-flatscreen-incident that occurred the time he, Bill, and Toye got a little too competitive. But when he sees how athletic you are and how good you are at video games (without cheating, unlike some of his friends who we won't name but we all know who I'm talking about hehehe) he's willing to have a fair competition. He loves it if you get competitive with him, because instead of it ending with a smack on the back of the head, he gets a soft kiss and a sweet "congratulations!"

He really loves how you make everyone feel appreciated and like they belong. In a canon-era relationship, it's something that he adores about you, especially after the war. On the wrong day, he can get a little too in his head, and he's always so grateful after he gets to spend time with you, because it clears his head and makes him feel all warm and gooey inside

Thanks for the request Anon! I hope you enjoyed this 💕🕊️

#band of brothers ships #I hope y'all know that whenever someone says they like my writing my day gets 100 times better #I appreciate y'all so much 🥺💕#babe heffron #babe heffron x reader #band of brothers x reader #anonymous #my writing #band of brothers

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babystrangegal · 2 years

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𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓥𝓮𝓷𝓾𝓼 𝓓𝓲𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓼 #1: “𝓒𝓻𝓾𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓭 𝓚𝓲𝓭” 𝓟𝓵𝓪𝔂 𝓜𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓯 𝓘𝓷𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓽𝓾𝓽𝓮, 8𝓽𝓱 𝓢𝓮𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻 2022

I’m delighted Suede love Manchester as much as I do. It’s nothing quite comparable to all the love and poison of London, but between each and every red brick, flowing through the muddy waters of the Bridgewater Canal and down to the graffiti-laden streets of the suburbs, there’s the essence of Suedeworld. Aside from the obvious musical connections of The Smiths and Joy Division; bedroom wall and turntable staples of generations of scruffy students, right from the Brett Andersons of the 1980s gazing at the drizzle of the rain running down the windows of their high-rises in Owen’s Park Tower, to the Angels of the 2010s, listening to How Soon Is Now on their tablet computers in the university library, loading up on cheap Dark Fruits and vegan sandwiches, we were both drawn to the city by its musical mythology, and the grit and grime of its industrial heritage. Much of this has now sadly been lost, but the spirit still remains. As an adopted Stopfordian, on my daily commute, my bus passes a stone’s throw from the primary school where Brett Anderson once famously hid in a rubbish bin from a gang of thugs, later inspiring the live staple and fan-favourite stomper Killing Of A Flashboy. It means a lot they would pay us a little visit on their two-date “tour”.

It was the evening of the late August bank holiday when my phone buzzed.

“Have you got a message? Suede events in London and Manchester on the evenings of the 5th and 6th of September.”

I hadn’t, but was swiftly added to a messenger group chat. The proceedings weren’t dissimilar to the Autofiction video shoot I’d attended back in May. You could feel the excitement and gratitude in those messages. Nobody was entirely sure what was taking place, but our questions were soon enough answered when an article appeared in The Quietus, promoting the debut single from a London-based post punk outfit called Crushed Kid. My friend would later point out that “crushed” and “kid” are both different types of Suede. Ticket links were shared, and I almost got run over passing the taxi rank outside my work in my desperation to pick up a ticket. We were in. Around this time, whisperings of the bands’ identity began to circulate. It was an incredible thrill to be one of the lucky few who knew the truth.

I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t difficult to keep the whole thing hush-hush until HQ gave us the go-ahead to discuss the gigs publicly. Once Monday rolled around, and the band took to the stage under their new moniker at The Moth Club in East London, the secret was out. The cat was out of the bag. The following day, I jumped on my bus to work with a spring in my step and two bags on my shoulders. I’d picked out a frilly animal-print blouse, open almost to the navel, so a change of clothes was in order for the office. I’d also brought along the entire contents of my makeup bag, as I wouldn’t have time for a full face before leaving. I certainly got some strange looks from my colleagues as I painstakingly applied my cat-eyes and false eyelashes between bites of a TESCO Meal Deal.

I left half an hour late, and walked the mile in the rain or so from the office down to Sandbar on Grosvenor street, where outside a sizable crowd of Insatiable Ones was amassing. There were home-made Crushed Kid T-shirts, badges, patches and plectrums. It warmed my cold, rain-soaked bones to see so many familiar faces. There was laughter, hugs, pre-gig pints and vegan pizza. I chose to abstain from alcohol until I’d suitably lined my stomach, after a rather disastrous work outing the previous Friday, where I’d passed out in the back of a taxi. More friends filed in one by one, some of my old Manchester buddies and some of my Suede buddies, and by the time my marinara pizza arrived, someone announced that queuing had commenced. The pizza was absolutely delicious, and I wish I could have savoured it, but needs must. I folded the last two slices and munched them as we ran across the rain-slicked road to The Deaf Institute. I’d only been to The Deaf Institute once before, for a David Bowie club night back in January 2020, night which had ended with myself and my friend lying in the dark in a drunken stupor, listening to The Manics’ The Holy Bible. Good memories.

After an hour or so of queuing in the stairwell, we were finally let in. I immediately make a beeline for the stage, but feel a guilty leaving my friends in order to then head to Neil’s side of the stage. But it’s too late, the crowd is filling up thick and fast. There’s no opportunity to even go and grab a pint or a quick G&T. There was no barrier, and a fellow Insatiable One points out we’re stood mere inches from the steps from which the band will jump onstage, and Brett will descend into the crowd. I let out an annoying squeal. The pre-show DJ set courtesy of Lidia is storming, including Bauhaus’ Lagartija Nick, a favourite of mine as a student, The Buzzcocks’ Everybody’s Happy Nowadays, Echo and The Bunnymen’s The Cutter, and, most bafflingly, Tones on Tail’s Lions.

By the time the band take to the stage, the music hall is positively humming and glowing with excitement. The house lights go down, and they launch straight into She Still Leads Me On. Brett leaps upon the stacks of monitors and conducts the crowd who, as one beast, surge forward and hold our arms aloft and belt out the chorus in frenzied screams. Ever the perfect foil, Neil gives a little shudder and huddles into his leather jacket, whilst Brett prowls the tiny stage, centimetres from our adoring faces, and its clear the feelings are reciprocated. The band are having a blast. They’re grinning from ear-to-ear. Brett looks out into the sea of fans, and throws us a deliciously beautiful wink. I can already tell that Personality Disorder is going to be my favourite track from Autofiction. Brett is employing good use of sprechstimme, reminiscent of The Fall’s Mark E. Smith, or to use a more contemporary example, Florence Shaw of Dry Cleaning. It’s a technique I adore with his manner of speaking, take for example What I’m Trying To Tell You from 2016’s Night Thoughts. This is juxtaposed with another stomping chorus, dripping with post-punk ferocity. With 15 Again, we’re back into familiar territory. I delight in boasting that I was one of the first few to hear this track during the Autofiction shoot at The Vaults, and it sounds absolutely perfect live. The intro has the faint whiff of She Sells Sanctuary, and this truly comes out in the raw, unfiltered context of a live show. My cheekbones are aching from all the grinning I’ve been doing. The Only Way I Can Love You is a slow, sweet ballad, Brett takes a seat on the steps beside us, and sweeps his sweaty fringe from his eyes, and gives a little smile and giggle, the same one he gave me during Saturday Night at Victoria Warehouse last year. We’d been given a few tasters of That Boy On The Stage as early as 2019, but, now, in its final, completed form, it’s quite something else. Brett sings the opening verse slowly, with only faint guitar accompaniment, the way he’s been singing We Are The Pigs recently. We’re handed the microphone on “Shut up and hit that metal!”, and it really isn’t hard to see “that boy” that Brett sings about. He can’t control himself, he’s stomping and leaping and performing physical feats at the age of fifty-four that would land me as a twenty-two year old in Casualty! Right at the very end, though, when he screams “Oh, he can’t control the- RAGE!” He points directly at me, and I feel my cheeks flush. I cover my face with my hands, and scream, and turn around to my friend behind me and bury my head in her shoulder. She’s laughing her head off. I feel that there’s a parallel between Brett’s discussion of person versus persona, between his stage self and his actual person. On one hand, I can present myself as a somewhat competent, well-educated and professional woman, if a little awkward, but the second Suede take to the stage, I lose all of my inhibitions and enter full fangirl mode, complete with Beatlemania screaming and thrashing. Drive Myself Home is another gorgeous slow number, but the performance is hindered slightly when Brett begins to scowl and aggressively point down towards the stage. From my side, it looked as if he was pointing to a member of the crowd, and I begin to panic. I wonder if someone’s been taken ill, and I think of my friends on the other side of the stage, and hop up on my tip-toes and crane my neck and do my best attempt at a head count. Being small in stature, in such a packed environment, this was difficult, and my fears are only worsened when the venue’s security begin to pick their way through. I don’t see anyone carried out, so I shrug it off, and try to go back to enjoying myself. Shadow Self is another gem, and I very much enjoy the backing vocals courtesy of Neil. Brett sings his lines, then hilariously pivots round and points at Neil, who delivers the “ooh-oohs”. It’s really quite funny. By this point my memories are hazy. Brett introduces What Am I Without You as a love song to the fans, and gives a heartfelt speech to us all.

The rest passes in a blur, and the band leave the stage. Richard flashes us an adorable smile as he passes us, and I remember I really must head to his side for the Leeds gig on the 17th. My friend asks me if I think they’ll come back on, and I shake my head, doing my best to try and nab us a setlist to “neatly” rip in half and share, to no avail. I’m sweaty and out of breath, but completely exhilarated. I feel like I’ve been for a run. The best run of my life. We’re all reunited at the front of the stage, and I ask what Brett was scowling about. One of the cables to the monitors had come unplugged. It was odd to see him like that, so aggressive and masculine. All over a cable! Soon, we’re running down the stairs and around the back of the venue, past the Domino’s Pizza, to the stage door, where we mingle for a while. I anxiously puff at my e-cigarette and hope I don’t look too dishevelled. After a quarter of an hour or so, Brett emerges, looking absolutely immaculate, with no trace of sweat or exhaustion. He speaks to us for a while, and asks if there’s anything to sign. I’m hanging around near the back, my head and shoulders popping up over the brick wall, and he asks us if we’re alright. To this I can muster a flustered “Yeah, alright, cheers Brett.” I tell him I haven’t got anything to sign, but ask him if he can instead sign my right arm, to match my “Life Is Golden” autograph tattoo on my left, but he’s whisked away for a photo before he gets the chance. Bugger. We all get a photo, and we wave him goodbye as the minibus, driven by Elastica’s Justin Welch (they must have forgiven him for nearly killing them in the 80s) leaves.

We decided on a few post-gig pints at Sandbar, and we sat and laughed and exchanged memes and did our best to decompress. On my way out, I found myself whisked away by a group of Insatiable Ones, and I played tour guide to show them the way to Canal Street, where more drinks were had, and karaoke was sung to a near-empty crowd in New Union. We thanked the drag queen MC for humouring us. Like all good things, this night must come to an end, and after a quick piri-piri wrap from the Spar shop by the bus stop, I waited for my night bus back to Stockport, which never arrived. I ended up getting scammed out of a tenner by a cab driver. Oh, well.

The following morning, Venus was none too happy with me for leaving her alone for 20 whole hours (I am a very bad cat parent), and my head hurt from those post-gig pints. The issue that I’ve always found is that the adrenaline dulls the effects until it’s too late, and I absolutely can’t wait to do it all again this Saturday.

- 𝒜𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓁, 𝟣𝟦/𝟢𝟫/𝟤𝟤 𝓍

#suede #suede band #brett anderson #mat osman #richard oakes #neil codling #simon gilbert #the venus tour diaries

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