#his full outfit in the first photo drives me insane in the best way

[hookingminor]

“In awe, the first time you realised it” with Mat Barzal please🥺

31. In awe, the first time you realised it

I swear all my favorite things I've written are for barz, this is also so self-indulgent for me bc my love language is playlists

-

You and Mat had been dating for just under a year now, still in the honeymoon phase of your relationship even after a few fights, and he swore you were the only person he would never get tired of. The weekends you spent at his apartment, the Saturday morning markets you always dragged him to, the nights he curled on your couch watching TV while you worked away at the kitchen table, there was no such thing as too much time with you.

The feeling nagged at the back of Mat’s mind, subtle and quiet, a distant voice telling him he was in love with you even if his brain hadn’t completely registered it yet. Your relationship was comfortable. You moved around each other with an ease Mat had never known, as if you’d spent years together and now lived in routines that revolved around the other. He hadn’t even processed how used to being around you he’d gotten until your first summer apart had hit.

He thought about you all the time, wondering whether or not you’d like the outfit he chose when he went out with friends, whether you’d enjoy his mom’s cooking, whether you were thinking about him all the way back in New York when he was in Coquitlam.

By the time fall came back around, he was ready to ask you to move in even if neither of you had said those words yet. Mat just missed you all the time. It didn’t matter how much time you spent apart, he was counting the hours until he saw you again.

It was only when the two of you packed your bags and climbed into his car, ready for a weekend road trip upstate that the overwhelming feeling of how much he loved you hit him. You chose to drive, knowing Mat’s proclivities for driving a little too fast would’ve made you insane during the four hour ride to the secluded cabin he rented. In turn, he got to choose the music, though you made him compromise that he’d split the time between both of your spotifys.

Yours and Mat’s music taste didn’t always mesh well, and while he knew your account and followed it, he never delved into the playlists you curated. At the two hour mark, he unlocked your phone and scrolled through your account, clicking through a few playlists as he tried to find one that he wouldn’t completely hate.

He came across one titled happiness, the playlist photo piquing his curiosity. It was a little further down the list, about halfway through your nearly twenty playlists, and he recognized the picture as his own head. There were no discernible features, only his hair as his head rested on your chest and your fingers curled in the strands, but Mat knew it was him.

One by one, he read over each song in the playlist. The theme seemed all over the place, ranging from slow songs to upbeat pop to hip-hop, and his curiosity got the best of him.

“Babe, what’s this playlist?” He asked, stretching your phone so you could check the screen. You only took a brief glance, noticing the title immediately and shifting your focus back to the road.

“Oh, it’s just a bunch of songs that remind me of you,” you answered with an apathetic shrug. You added the first song a week after you met Mat after your first date when you knew that you wouldn’t be letting him go any time soon.

Mat furrowed his brows, not quite sure what Christmas Eve by Kelly Clarkson or Ain’t No Mountain High Enough by Marvin Gaye had to do with him, but he pressed shuffle anyways.

The first song that came on was Flightless Bird, American Mouth, and Mat vaguely remembered hearing this before.

“Why’s this one on it?” He asked.

“Remember when I made you watch Twilight even though you complained the entire time? You said you thought this song sounded nice, so I added it,” you explained.

“And Bloom?” Mat questioned, finding another song title he didn’t know.

“It was a song that played in the cafe during our first date.”

“Shoop?”

“That one night we stayed up until three baking brownies because we were drunk and hungry, we sang it, like, four times dancing in the kitchen,” you said.

It turned out every song on the playlist had some underlying meaning as to why you added it. There was the song you first slow danced to at a teammate’s wedding, the song you chose to karaoke to once at a bar, the song Mat always played first thing upon turning on his car for a couple weeks whenever he drove anywhere, songs he found himself singing under his breath while not realizing you were listening, his favorite Taylor Swift songs even though he would publicly claim he didn’t listen to her, songs he went crazy for every time they played in clubs. Every song had a story.

Mat didn’t ask you for the explanation for each one, not wanting to annoy you with his many questions, but he connected the dots soon enough after you told him Green Light by Lorde was on there because of how many times you and Mat had watched through New Girl, but more specifically, the scene where Nick and Jess finally get together.

A few sparked memories in his own head, the Khalid songs you made him listen to the one time you convinced him to get high with you, the Kendrick songs he swore were the best rap songs ever made, even a few Bieber songs you found more tolerable than others since you weren’t a fan of him but Mat was.

The playlist was nearing fifty songs, all recounting moments in your relationship over the past year, and Mat’s chest tightened in a way he’d never felt before.

He was in love with you.

You didn’t even bat an eye explaining the meaning of each song, every story fresh in your mind and you told him each one without hesitation. Had it not been for your eyes on the road, you probably would’ve noticed the tears welling in his eyes, though he quickly brushed them away.

His heart was so full of love for you, how you paid attention to every detail, and there was no doubt in his mind he was in love.

“You good?” You glanced over quickly, curious as to why he was quiet all of a sudden.

“Yeah, I’m good.” He cleared his throat.

“I love you.”

That caught your attention immediately, and you looked back at him, your own eyebrows slightly drawn together in confusion as the outburst.

“Yeah?” You asked. The words had been on the tip of your tongue for so long you could probably trace it back to the first time you met him, but you kept it to yourself. Mat was always cautious with his words, never wanting to say anything he didn’t fully believe, and you didn’t want to scare him off saying it too early.

“Yeah,” he replied confidently. Grabbing the hand resting on the gearshift, he intertwined your fingers and brought it to his lips. “I love you." Gently, Mat kissed your knuckles.

Your own heart felt like bursting at the soft look on his face. “I love you too.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured that,” he chuckled, wide grins spreading across both of your faces.

You brought his knuckles to your own lips, placing a soft kiss on them before letting your joined hands rest across the middle console. The remainder of the drive was silent, neither of you starting a conversation as you let your playlist take you the rest of the way.

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagine #my writing #requests #blurbs #isles13 #2k blurb weekend

[ao719]

Strike A Pose

It's @zaffrenotes​ birthday! 🥳🤩

Happy birthday, Donna! You have been such a bright spot for so long for both Gen and I. What started out as a love for Liam and a thirst for Henney a couple of years ago has turned into a friendship that we both are grateful for. Between rice, all things potatoes, TVD, loathing and loving characters, Dino, and things we can’t unsee no matter how much we wish we could, we’ve had a lot of laughs. We hope your day is as amazing as you are! Love you! 🍚❤️

A/N: This is a collab written with my favorite asshole, @cocomaxley. Absolutely nothing in this fic should be taken seriously. It’s probably the most ridiculous thing we’ve ever written together, but we had some laughs while working on it. Thank you @burnsoslow, @emichelle, and @the-soot-sprite for reading this over for us!

Summary: Charlotte finds a buried secret from Drake’s college days.

This part of my Full Disclosure AU.

Charlotte, along with Liam and Maxwell, were at Drake’s cabin, looking around his cluttered garage. Drake had been using it for storage, and he now wanted to brew his own beer since Liam had given him a brewing kit for his birthday. He decided that the garage was the best place to set up the station for his new hobby. The only issue was that the garage was jam-packed with years’ worth of junk.

Drake pointed to the different machines that were scattered around the space and addressed Maxwell. “Beaumont, move that equipment outside. We can put them in different spots after the garage is cleared out.”

Drake then turned to Liam, gesturing to the open loft. “Li, can you get the crap from the storage space up there and bring it down?” Liam nodded and began making his way up the narrow steps.

Charlotte bounced on the balls of her feet, awaiting her instructions. “What about me, Drake? What do I get to do? Do I get to demolish walls?”

Drake shook his head. “We aren’t demolishing anything, Brooks. I repeat, nothing is to be demolished or broken.” He eyed a large steamer trunk in the corner of the garage and pointed to it. “You can look through that and sort through what looks like it’s worth keeping or tossing.”

Charlotte’s face fell in disappointment. “That’s it? I get to sort through trash?”

“It’s not trash. There are probably important documents in there that I need. Besides, the only risk of you hurting yourself by doing that is getting a papercut.” Drake chuckled as he watched Charlotte stomp towards the corner.

“Ha ha ha. So funny, Walker.” Charlotte opened the lid, groaning when she saw the mess of papers inside. She grabbed as many as she could in her hand and pulled them out. “Ouch!” She looked at her finger that was starting to ooze with blood from the first cut.

Drake burst out laughing. “Did you seriously just get a papercut, Brooks?”

Charlotte hid her hand behind her back. “No, I did not! I just said ‘ouch’ to make you think I got a papercut.”

****

Over the next few hours, the friends worked in silence. Every once in a while, the men would hear Charlotte groan or say ‘owww’ or ‘son of a bitch’ or ‘that stings like the devil’ as she accumulated more papercuts. A long while later, the silence was broken by Charlotte’s shriek of laughter. She was holding a stack of Polaroid photos in her hand, laughing like a hyena. Curious, the men gathered behind her to see what was so funny.

When Drake caught a glimpse of the first photo, his cheeks immediately flushing crimson with embarrassment, and he grabbed them from her hand.

I thought I got rid of these. “These are … uh … they’re nothing.”

Charlotte snorted. “I can’t unsee it! You tried to be a model? You don’t even like to smile!”

Liam plucked the Polaroids from Drake’s hand while he was busy scowling at Charlotte, and he dodged away when Drake tried to take them back. Even the King couldn’t keep his laughter at bay upon seeing the top photo as his eyes widened. “What the fuck is this?” Liam shrieked.

Charlotte burst into laughter over Liam’s inability to keep his amusement contained. “Even Liam thinks it’s funny!” Charlotte shook her head. “That poor bag. What did it ever do to you?”

“Um … just why?” Maxwell asked.

Drake ripped the photos from Liam’s grasp and sighed. “Back when I was in college in New York … I needed some extra money. So … I took up a modeling gig.”

“You … you modeled?” Charlotte giggled. “Like … really modeled? With a real photographer for a legitimate modeling agency?”

Drake looked up at her, recalling the memory. He wished it wasn’t real.

****

Drake got into the waiting taxi, feeling optimistic about this opportunity. He had seen the advertisement for male models pinned to the bulletin board inside the entrance of his dorm just a couple of days prior. It wasn’t something he had ever given thought to before, but the advertisement said experience wasn’t necessary, and he was in need of some extra cash as he worked towards getting an apartment of his own. They weren’t cheap in New York City. When he called the number, the agent that answered seemed eager to meet with him.

Drake watched as the buildings of New York got taller the deeper they drove into the city. He looked at his watch, expecting to arrive at his destination at any moment, but the cabbie continued to drive over the Verrazano Bridge to Staten Island.

Drake chuckled nervously. “Did you miss it? Are we turning around?”

The cab driver grunted. “Nah, man. We’re almost there.”

The taxi drove into a seedy neighborhood and stopped in front of a brown brick house, and Drake laughed. “This is a joke, right? You’re supposed to take me to Ford Modeling Agency. This is someone’s house!”

The cabbie rolled his eyes. “This is the address you gave me. That’ll be $69.60.”

Drake’s eyes widened. “Seventy dollars? Are you insane?” He was doing this to try to make extra money, and after today he would be $140 in the hole. Good thing he still got a monthly allowance from the King.

After reluctantly paying the taxi driver, Drake got out of the vehicle and stared up at the house. I might die here today. He shook the thought; honestly, how bad could it be? As he walked up the pathway towards the door, he noticed a cardboard sign staked into the yard that read ‘Forde Molding Agencee’ written in bubble letters in black marker.

Drake mumbled profanities under his breath, and for a moment, he considered just walking away, but then the front door opened. A man with shaggy, greasy brown hair, an odd-shaped nose, and a full beard smiled from the doorway of the house.

The stranger extended his hand. “You must be Drake. I’m Neal. Neal Spooner.”

Drake extended his hand, trying his best to smile like it didn’t hurt his face. “Yes, I’m Drake Walker.”

Neal opened the door wider for Drake to enter. “Welcome to Forde Modeling Agency.”

Drake went to take a step but stopped and looked at him curiously. “Did you say For-day?”

“Yes! F-O-R-D-E. It’s pronounced Forday. It’s French.”

Drake’s brow quirked; the man spoke with a heavy southern twang, lived in Staten Island, and was now telling him his name was French. Yep, I’m definitely going to die here. He kept his mistake of thinking he was heading to a meeting with Ford, a legitimate modeling agency, to himself. He didn’t want to be disrespectful, and he also wanted to save himself the embarrassment. And he still needed the money.

Drake took in his surroundings inside the house. There was brown carpet that he was sure was a different color back in the 80s, along with wood-paneled walls. He then looked at his agent. He was wearing brown house slippers, a pair of New York Rangers pajama pants, and a dingy white t-shirt with a small hole in the chest and a larger hole in the armpit. This is one hairy dude.

“Let's go to my studio, shall we?” Neal broke the silence.

Drake felt a glimmer of hope at the word ‘studio.’ That hope immediately turned into dread when Neal led him through the kitchen and to a set of horror movie stairs in the mudroom; they walked down to the musty-smelling basement. The ‘studio’ had orange shag carpet and unfinished concrete walls. In the far corner, there was a makeshift “shooting” area with a white sheet attached to the wall with blue painter’s tape.

Neal walked to a closet and opened the door; he reached in and removed a couple of props and some outfits. He turned and threw a pair of tighty whities, a white ribbed tank top, and a black unitard at Drake. “Here, put one of these on.”

Drake looked at the articles of clothing in horror. “You want me to wear these? Have they been worn before?”

Neal chuckled at Drake’s facial expression. “Does it really matter? You’ll only be wearing them for a few minutes.”

“I don’t think so, man. I’m not going commando in another man’s fatigues.” Drake put the items onto a nearby table.

Neal rolled his eyes. “Fine, then strip!” Neal turned his back on Drake to prepare the camera.

After a lot of grumbling under his breath and more contemplation over leaving, Drake finally complied. He stood in the middle of the room, buck naked, covering his manly goods with his hands. Just then, he heard the basement door creak open and the sound of footsteps.

“Neal, dear, I made cookies for you and your friend.” An elderly lady rounded the corner with a plate of homemade chocolate chip cookies.

Neal grinned at his mother. “Thanks, Mamaw! They smell delicious. Just hand them to Drake.”

The woman smiled at Drake, offering him the plate. Drake internally panicked. If he removed both hands, he would surely give this lady a sneak peek. He opted to leave one hand in place and take the plate with the other.

“Erm … thank you, ma’am,” he said with a nod.

“You’re welcome, dear. Neal’s friends are always welcome.” Without another word, she made her way back upstairs.

Neal approached Drake and plucked a cookie off of the plate. “Have one. She makes the best cookies.”

****

Charlotte’s cackle interrupted Drake retelling his story. “You mean to tell me, this guy’s mother baked cookies, and you were standing there, ass out on full display while covering your slim jim?”

Liam was sitting on a crate shaking in silent laughter as tears streamed down his face. He was clutching his stomach, and his mouth was open, but no sound was coming out. Maxwell shushed Charlotte. “Shhhh, I wanna hear the rest of this story.”

****

Neal looked at Drake as he held the plate of cookies in his hand; his expression was filled with apprehension as he stared at the “photographer.” “Cookies not your thing?” Neal asked as he took a step towards him.

“Uhh …” Drake trailed off.

“I like beef jerky myself.” Drake’s eyebrows raised, and suddenly, Neal procured a bag of beef jerky from the pocket of his pajama pants.

****

“Wait, wait, wait,” Maxwell waved his hands. “This dude just pulled out a random bag from his pants and offered you some meat sticks?”

Drake just stared at him, ignoring Liam and Charlotte who’s laughs became louder, but his attention was pulled when he heard a snort from behind him; he turned to see Bastien in the garage doorway. “Sounds like this Neal fellow wanted a bit of your meat stick, son.”

At Bastien’s words, the normally stoic King completely lost it. Liam’s heel kicked the crate he was sitting on as he doubled forward with a wheezed rush of air; his eyes were squinted, and he struggled to breathe through his laughter.

Charlotte rolled to the floor from her seat, curling into the fetal position at Liam’s feet as she shrieked with laughter. “I … I think ... I think I just wet myself,” she squeaked. Liam’s foot slid as he began to slip off the crate, kicking Charlotte in the head with the tip of his sneaker. “Ow!”

That only caused the pair to laugh harder, and Liam crumpled to the floor, covering Charlotte’s body with his own as they failed miserably to compose themselves.

Drake glared at the hysterical couple. “You guys are such fucking assholes.”

“Well, did you eat the offered jerky or not?” Maxwell asked, causing Liam to screech as he buried his face into the crook of Charlotte’s neck while his entire body shook.

“Yes, Drake, did you eat his meat stick?” Charlotte asked in between laughs. Another loud snort escaped Bastien; Drake turned in time to see the head guard walk out of the garage. Charlotte began to cough, trying her hardest to stop laughing. “Sorry, Drake. Keep going. Please, tell me more.”

“No! Fuck you guys!” Drake stomped away towards a pile of trash that needed to be swept up.

Maxwell pouted. “I really want to know what happens next. Like, did your picture wind up in Women’s Hustler?” Another loud guffaw came from Liam; Charlotte could feel his body vibrating against hers as he failed to stop laughing. Seeing Liam this way was Charlotte’s favorite thing and only made her laugh more.

Drake huffed but continued on as he swept the floor. “So then …”

****

Drake shook his head at Neal. “No, man. I’m good. Thanks …”

Neal shrugged his shoulders. “Alrighty, then.” He pointed towards the shooting area. “Sit on that stool with your feet on the top rung and cross your ankles together, knees apart.”

Drake sat down with his hands still covering his manhood. “Uh … I didn’t realize these were going to be nude photos.”

Neal shook his head, “No, they aren’t nudes. Here …” He tossed Drake an extremely large leather crocodile print handbag. “Put that between your legs.”

“Excuse me? Put what where now?”

“Between your legs! Then put your arms behind your head and flex those muscles.” When Drake did as instructed, Neal approached him; he combed Drake’s hair forward and floofed it; Drake shuddered as the man’s hands touched his hair, and not in the good shudder way. Neal took a step back to examine his work before nodding. Then he held up the camera. “Now give Neal your best smoldering look.” He pronounced Neal as “Nay-al,” speaking with a French accent.

Drake arched his brow. “Did you just say ‘Nay-al’?”

“It is my alter ego when I am in photographer mode. NOW, SMOLDER!” Drake’s eyes slightly widened at Neal’s sudden change of tone before he heard the first click of the camera. Is that … a Polaroid camera? “Pout de’ lips!” Drake looked back at Neal and jutted his bottom lip out awkwardly, unsure what he was doing exactly. “CHIN UP! Hollow those cheeks!” Drake sucked his cheeks between his teeth, still with his lip out as he flexed his muscles. Click after click came, and the camera spit Polaroids out one after the other. Neal suddenly dropped the camera to his side. “No, no … this is all wrong. Something is missing …” Neal popped his hip as he tapped a finger to his lips, thinking. “AH-HA!”

Neal turned on his heel and headed towards a closet, flinging the door open. He began throwing items behind him while he looked for something: a hot pink feather boa sailed through the air, a can of glitter spray, some rope and duct tape, a pair of heeled combat boots, a deflated blow-up doll, and what Drake was pretty certain was a dildo.

Neal emerged from the closet a moment later, holding a pair of sunglasses in his hand with a triumphant smile. “All of that and sunglasses was what you were looking for?”

“Do not question my creative mind! Put these on.” Drake did as he was asked and slipped the sunglasses on; Neal fixed Drake’s hair again and looked at him with a broad grin. “PERFECTION! Now strike that same pose as last time.”

An entire roll of film later -- and after putting on the offered clothes that he had declined to wear before -- Drake was thankful to be slipping back into his own clothing. Neal gathered up the Polaroids scattered around his feet, wearing a gleeful smile. “Uh … so did you get the shots you needed?” Drake asked as he slipped his shoes on.

“Oh, yes,” Neal giggled. “These are splendid.”

Drake watched as he flipped through the pictures, almost as if Neal had forgotten he was even there. Drake cleared his throat. “So, uh … my payment?”

“Oh, right,” Neal said. Keeping his eyes on the photos, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled one dollar bill and outstretched his arm, handing it to Drake.

“A FUCKING DOLLAR?” Drake bellowed; his booming voice caused Neal to snap his gaze over to him.

“A set amount was never agreed upon.”

“GIVE ME THOSE!” Drake snatched the pile of photos from Neal’s hand. “You fucking greasy ass freak!” He turned and stormed up the stairs.

“Did you two have fun?” Neal’s mother asked Drake as he stormed through the kitchen.

Drake didn’t answer. His eyes fell on the plate of cookies; he reached out and snatched one before running outside.

****

“You … you got a whole ass dollar for all of that?” Charlotte howled. Liam was now lying on his back with his hands on his chest; his face was red, and the veins in his neck bulged from lack of oxygen as he continued to laugh. “You can’t even get something from the dollar menu at McDonald’s for just a dollar. You were short of the tax,” she squealed through a giggle, resting her head on Liam as he laughed harder and rolled towards her.

Maxwell stood and clapped Drake on the shoulder. “Sorry your modeling career didn’t work out, buddy. I’m gonna be honest, these aren’t the most flattering photos, so maybe it worked out for the best.” He went back to cleaning out the garage, singing, “I’m a model, you know what I mean. And I do my little turn on the catwalk.” Maxwell spun in a circle and began to moonwalk backward. “Yeah, on the catwalk, on the catwalk, yeah.”

Charlotte stood up. “Drake shakes his little tush in Neal’s basement.” She turned towards Drake and shimmied her butt. Liam threw his head back in another laugh as he finally attempted to stand.

****

Several days later, Drake was in the newly cleaned garage with his brewing station set up. He was eager to get started after spending a lot of time researching different ingredients and methods. He was interrupted by an urgent knock on the garage door. When he opened it, there was a delivery man holding two large thin packages.

“Drake Walker?” the man asked.

“Yeah, that’s me. What’s all this?”

The man shoved the packages into Drake’s arms as he replied, “Delivery from Her Majesty, the Queen.”

Drake peeled off the envelope from the front of one of the boxes.

Dear Drake,

I thought these would add a nice touch to your brewery.

xoxo,

Charlotte

Drake opened the boxes and noticed that they were large pictures. When he saw what they were, he groaned. He looked at 24 by 36 framed canvases of his modeling photos. “Why did I think this would be something I actually wanted?”

****************************

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#happy birthday donna! #birthday fic #trr #choices trr #the royal romance #choices the royal romance #trr liam #trr mc #liam x mc #trr liam x mc #choices liam x mc #king liam #charlotte and drake: platonic love/hate relationship #trr fanfic #trr fanfiction #trr fan fic #choices trr fanfic #trr au #choices trr au #trr au fanfic

[jalapeno-princess]

Kiss Me More

Mark Tuan X Reader

Word count: 6.1K

Genre: Very fluffy smut

Warning: Some sexy time in there nothing too extreme (hehehe...or is there?)

Summary: You were confident in the fact that your sex life with Mark was very exciting, wild and fun to say the least. In more or less words, it was perfect. Just your relationship in general was the kind that many people around you would be the envy of. It’s been four years since you began dating and you could honestly say it has been the best four years of your life so far because of him. He was the best boyfriend you could possibly ask for; kind, funny, gentle, considerate, soft-spoken, generous and extremely handsome. He took really good care of you and it was obvious by both his actions and his words that he was madly in love with you. As the two of you are coming down from your sex highs, you grow curious as to why once your love making sessions were over, so is the intimacy. Surely, your boyfriend has his reasons for not kissing you for too much longer as you’re about to go to bed. Right?

A/N: Based on the song “Kiss Me More” by Doja Cat and Sza. I am obsessed with this song and I knew I had to write something based on it so I hope you all enjoy! (I don’t really care for how the ending turned out but whatever).

We hug and yes, we make love And always just say "Goodnight" (la-la-la-la-la) And we cuddle, sure I do love it But I need your lips on mine

Can you kiss me more? We're so young, boy We ain't got nothin' to lose, oh, oh It's just principle Baby, hold me 'Cause I like the way you groove, oh, oh

Boy, you write your name, I can do the same Ooh, I love the taste, la-la-la-la All on my tongue, I want it (la-la-la-la) Boy, you write your name, I can do the same Ooh, I love the taste, la-la-la-la-la All on my tongue, I want it

“Ah—shit, shit—baby, I’m going to need you to slow down. Please—we have the whole night, I just—y/n—fuck. You’re so fucking sexy—“ Against your boyfriend’s pleas, you only sped up your pace to rile him more than he already was. 

“The whole night? We’ve been at this for three hours baby. I think I’m gonna tap out here soon. Aren’t you tired?” 

The devilish grin that immediately rose on his face at your confession confirmed that no—he was not tired or if he was, he still had enough energy to keep pumping in to you. You were currently bouncing on his cock; sinking up and down on him like it was your life duty to do so. 

Your walls were clenched around him deliciously; his hardened length filled you up to the hilt with every thrust. The tip grazed along your nub; flicking it with every pump and it was quickly driving you to the brink of insanity. Honestly, you didn’t think you’d find yourself in this position tonight. 

The two of you were exhausted beyond belief; you were at school since six in the morning up until four in the afternoon earlier today. You had finished two midterms and one very important exam you’ve been studying almost an entire month for. Tired wasn’t even a good enough word to describe your current state. 

Your boyfriend was just as much in bad shape as you were. His boss had him doing multiple errands today on top of completing his own assigned work. He only arrived home a little over an hour ago. When you heard the front door of your shared apartment gently open, you had to prevent yourself from running towards him and embracing him with all the power you had in your tiny body. 

You were confident that he was probably worn out and wanted nothing more than to go to sleep. From previous experiences, sometimes your boyfriend would go straight to bed upon arrival—being too fatigued to care about eating or taking a shower even. 

Although you were just as tired and in more or less words; overworked to the bone, seeing your boyfriend slumped while his dark circles grew more and more prominent every day, you mustered up enough energy to iron his clothes for the next day, prepare the clothes he’d wear to sleep, pack him a lunch and even get some of his toiletries ready if he felt like wanting to rinse off just a bit. 

To your surprise, as soon as he made his way towards you—before you could even open your mouth to ask your boyfriend how his day was, his pretty, heart-shaped lips that you loved so much were fervently smashed against yours. He gave you no time in preparing yourself for what was to come next before he roughly grabbed you at your thighs and wrapped your legs around his waist. 

His mouth never left yours as he led the two of you to your shared bedroom. It boggled your mind that he was giving you his full attention; gnawing and sucking on your lips while he carried you to the room without bumping in to anything or tripping on the rug. Maybe he’s gotten used to doing so since the two of you have been in this exact same scenario more times than you can count on both hands. 

There were so many thoughts running through your mind and questions on the tip of your tongue—concerning the sudden affection and lust he was currently showing you, but whatever you wanted to ask him no longer mattered the second he shoved his tongue down your throat and squeezed both your ass cheeks before slapping them hard. 

“Mark—babe is everything okay—“

“Work was shit—complete and utter shit. I missed you so fucking much like I do every single day I’m at that shithole and so I logged on to Snapchat and to my surprise—and delight, my beautiful girlfriend sent me a few snaps of her pretty outfit today. Don’t play innocent baby, you knew exactly what you were doing as soon as you hit send. You are well aware of the fact that I was seconds away from calling in sick this morning and fucking you in to oblivion right against the kitchen counter when you walked out in to the living room. Ah—there was so many things I wanted to say. Don’t get me wrong, you look breathtakingly beautiful in every single thing that you wear, but my dress shirt and that pencil skirt that hugs you in all the right places and leaves little to the imagination? Tsk tsk—it’s like you wanted me to rearrange your guts tonight.” 

You looked at him in curiosity; it took you a few moments to pin point exactly what photos he was referring to. Since you were so busy today, you completely forgot about sneaking to the bathroom and taking a few pictures of yourself. This last week has been extremely busy for both you and your boyfriend—and so the thought of being intimate with him felt like a fever dream. 

Sex with Mark had to be one of your favorite activities not only as a couple, but just in general. One thing about the older boy that you admired was the fact that he was very talented in each and every single thing he put his mind in to. Baseball, volleyball, football, golf, tennis, soccer, martial arts—it wasn’t even only sports. 

Mark was exceptionally intelligent; he was one of the only people you knew that was good at both reading and math. He also could finish a Rubik’s cube in under two minutes which was quite the impossible task. Every single thing your boyfriend did never failed to impress you. However, you felt as though he was the best at blowing your mind in more ways than one. 

The older boy was extremely generous; he always bought you cute little gifts that reminded him of you, he’d pay for every single date against your pleas no matter where the two of you would go, he’d sacrifice his time and work his schedule around yours so he could pick you up and drop you off wherever you needed to go. When it came to the bedroom, he always put you and your needs first. Mark always made it his main priority to make sure you came first, that you were genuinely having a good time and overall he wanted to do whatever he possibly could to make you comfortable. 

Some days, he’d be so focused on eating you out that he found pleasure and got his full strictly by sucking on your pussy. If you were having a rough day, he’d prepare you a bath and get you all your favorite snacks in attempts of cheering you up but not before finding his place in between your thighs and dragging his tongue along your slit faster than you could actually handle. Mark was the king of overstimulation; one of his kinks was driving you crazy and not giving you a chance to do anything about it. 

He was extremely good at sex— and his body was handcrafted by God. Every single thing about him was annoyingly perfect; he wasn’t the most muscular man but he wasn’t exactly skinny either. He had just the right amount of muscle, a six pack and he was well endowed. Although you considered penises very unattractive before you met Mark, something about his was so pretty and it always made your mouth water. 

You weren’t sure if you preferred having it buried deep inside of your cunt, or filling up your throat—both felt so phenomenal. Out of all the positions you and Mark experimented in during your four year relationship, your favorites had to be doggy, missionary and the one you were currently in right now. In most of your love making sessions, Mark took the lead and dominated you—not that you ever objected. 

A dominant Mark—degrading, rough, animalistic was the sexiest Mark—well, next to jealous and overprotective which usually led to the passionate and extremely freaky sex the two of you’d have. But there were times where you would take control because Mark was the definition of a switch; and something about him submitting to you and whatever you told him to always sent your mind in a frenzy.

Mark was very vocal about how he came faster whenever you would find yourself riding him specifically because watching your breasts bounce, getting to see your gorgeous face and observing your pussy swallow his cock whole—your juices coating his entire length, the sensation was lethal. His hands gripped on your waist all but gently; you might have been the one on top but your boyfriend was a powerbottom. He never allowed you to do things on your own, especially during sex. 

“Nope. I’m like the energizer bunny whenever we make love. In fact, I could probably fuck you for a solid four more hours. I know sex isn’t everything in a relationship and there are so many other things I love to do with you—but damn, you’re a fucking dream y/n. We have sex almost every single day and it always feels like the first time. If you’re exhausted baby, you can get off. As much as I particularly enjoy and get off on the feeling of your ass clapping against my balls, I’m sure it’s pretty tiring.” 

You had to stifle back a laugh at his choice of words; when the two of you first became intimate with one another, there was a lot of laughter and playful banter in the duration of your sexy time to which you didn’t think was normal. Then again, your relationship with Mark was never normal from the start. Your relationship was the envy of a lot of the people around you. 

It’s been over four years yet somehow—maybe it was the deep, passionate love you held for one another, but you were still surprisingly in the honeymoon stage. Neither you or Mark could get enough of each other. Sometimes, whenever the two of you would tumble in to bed together, some jokes, corny pickup lines and even riddles would be thrown in while Mark would be railing you and on some occasions, he’d say things at the wrong time, but you still had so much fun nonetheless. 

“I’m not too tired, I just don’t want to be immobile for the next week. My thighs are jelly and I have work in the morning. I’ve called out three times already in the last month because you fulfill your promises of wrecking me and I’m sure my boss is aware of the fact that it’s not possible for me to get food poisoning that many times within days of each other—“

“I mean, I have no regrets honestly and if I remember correctly, you’re always the one telling me to “go faster” and to “fuck me harder daddy”—ow! What? I’m just stating the facts—“

“I know, but it sounds weird when you say it.” 

He playfully rolled his eyes before stealing a sloppy kiss from the corner of your mouth and motioned for you to get off of him. As much as you were reveling in his many wanton noises and lustful facial expressions, you could feel your legs giving out and you were in no position to be calling out sick again. At least not for another week or two. You let out a whine at the feeling of him slowly pulling out of you; you weren’t ashamed to say you were a huge fan of how it felt to be full of your boyfriend’s cock. 

Cock warming was another favorite kink of yours. Mark on the other hand, would have to mentally prepare a few minutes prior to staying inside of you. It was hard for him to stay idle—he’s told you this many times. As much as he wanted to do whatever you asked of him and wanted to please you no matter what it was you desired, the feeling of your tight, wet and warm walls clenching around him was too much. He allowed it to happen, but not for too long. He could be the one to tap out, but a couple minutes of cockwarming could lead to another round of sex and in many cases; it did.

“What a baby, can’t even go a couple of seconds without my dick inside of her—“

“Shut up, I can go in to the bathroom and finish myself off if I wanted to—“

“We all know your fingers aren’t enough to get you seeing stars princess. And that stupid dildo you bought when I was away in Taiwan last year can’t do shit for you either.” 

Thankfully, he didn’t take too long in throwing you against the bed and lining himself back at your entrance. You were seeping of your essence at this point and he swiped himself along your folds so that it would be easier for him to slip back inside. He brought his face up to your ear and his breath was hot against your jaw as he leaned in to whisper naughty words that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head in pleasure. 

“Only I can bring you to sheer ecstasy. Only I can get you to see white—only I can get your head spinning. My fingers; we both know how much my fingers are one of your favorite body parts of mine.” He wrapped one hand around your neck gently, making sure to glide his thumb along your pressure point while swiping some of your juices with his index finger and bringing it up to your mouth. 

“Taste yourself baby. I want you to experience the euphoria I go through whenever I eat out this pretty cunt of yours. Well—back to what I was saying, my tongue, I know exactly how to use it as we make out, when I suck on this pretty little neck of yours or when I suck the life out of your pussy—so even if you were to finger yourself like the dirty girl you are, you’ll never reach the mind blowing orgasm only I can give to you. Now, I think it’s time I teach you a lesson for speaking out against me.” 

You bit your lip in anticipation for the excitement that was to come; whenever Mark would get jealous or whenever you were bratty and went against whatever he commanded you to do, that’s when he would fuck your brains out. How the two of you were still going at it with such a rapid and forceful pace had yet to really process completely in your mind, but you didn’t question it. A muttered groan fell from both your lips and his as soon as he found his place back inside of you. 

Immediately, he placed his face in the crook of your neck for what you were accustomed to him trying his best not to moan loudly. He dragged his teeth along the juncture of your nape before sinking his teeth in and leaving a dark love bite in its wake. 

“Mark!” 

You swatted his arm once you felt the spot begin to throb. Sure, you found it extremely sexy whenever he’d mark his territory because it proved just how possessive and overprotective he was over you but at the same time, hickeys were difficult to cover up and you were confident the purple mark would be on display for your professors, classmates, coworkers, boss and clients to see. 

“Sorry baby, I couldn’t help myself—I’ll help you put some makeup on it tomorrow. It’s just that—ugh, how the fuck are you always so damn tight? We have sex on a daily basis, you should be stretched out by now.”

“You men obviously don’t understand the anatomy of a woman. You’re lucky you’re attractive and very sweet, you’re lacking intelligence—“

“Hey—“

“Just fuck me already asshole.” 

You didn’t have to ask him twice. He went straight in to ramming his cock in and out of you. There was no time to be soft or gentle; the two of you were just moments away from your releases. You preferred the softness and romanticism that came with making love, but right now all you could think about was how amazing it felt when the tip of his cock reached your cervix. 

“Feels—“

“So fucking good.” 

Your breasts were bouncing up and down with every thrust and to your delight, your boyfriend cupped one of your mounds in his hand; flicking your nipple all but gently and earning himself the sexiest growl he’s ever heard in his life. He wrapped his lips around your other breast and swirled his tongue around your nipple—bringing the nub in between his teeth and nibbling on it. 

“Such pretty titties—so soft, so big—your body belongs in an art museum. You’re a masterpiece. Everything about you—I can’t even wrap my head around your beauty. You’re really a sight for sore eyes you know that?” 

Slowly, you shaking my brought your palm up to his face and cupped his cheek feather lightly. You brought your free hand in to his hair and softly tugged at his curly, brown locks. 

“I—I love you Mark—“

“Mmm—I love you more baby girl. So much more. Every time you say those three words, I feel like a little kid who’s crush complimented his outfit. You do wonders on my heart. What did I do to deserve you?” 

Out of no where, he lifted up one of your legs and placed it on his shoulder. This position allowed him to reach deeper inside of you which you didn’t even know there was more of you for him to reach. 

“Shit—shit, just like that Mark—“

“You like that baby?” 

You nodded in agreement fervently; he needed to know the effect that this position was having on you. Something about having him on top of you, even if missionary was a position that most people considered boring and ordinary—you felt like you were going to burst in to flames at any moment. The sound of his pelvis clapping against your ass cheeks sounded off throughout the room. It only heightened the sexual desire that already filled up the atmosphere. His grip on your lower waist tightened as the two of you grew closer and closer to your ends. 

“So tight—so wet—so perfect and all mine.” 

He brought your other leg up on to his shoulder and you could fill your orgasm right at the edge. A loud moan fell from his lips and he tried to conceal it by smashing his mouth against yours, but you only felt the vibration on your tongue as he hummed in contentment. 

“Mark—I can’t—it’s too much—“

“I know baby, I know. I’m almost there too. Can you hold on for just a little longer?” 

With all the energy you could muster, you nodded against his chest and allowed him to reconnect your lips together; his speed was relentless and with the way the bed was creaking, you knew that there was a huge chance it would break soon and you would get yet another noise complaint. Probably the seventh one in the last month. You were secretly hoping that he was closer than you were and that he was only holding on as long as possible so you both could continue your late night romp. 

Your boyfriend was a nymphomaniac; sex might not have been the most important part of your relationship, but after a long, stressful day at work, he found relief in releasing his anger and frustration on your body. Making love was even better—but it didn’t matter how the two of you were intimate, just having your skin against his and your tongue battling for dominance with his, the sensation never failed to turn his sour mood in to a much happier and lighter one. 

He was happiest being one with you. Just by the way he let go of your hips to intertwine your hands together, you were confident that he was about to cum. Whenever he was at his end, he’d stop whatever he was doing to hold your hands and leaned back so that he could get a better look at you. Seeing your fucked out state; sweat dripping down your neck and chest, cheeks flushed with warmth, hair sticking to your forehead, mouth gasping for air—knowing that he was the cause behind your beautiful glow, it brought him confidence and glee. 

Soon, you were being filled with his warm creamy liquid in spurts—the sensation of being full of his sperm was one that you still haven’t gotten used to. It was just that mind blowing. Your orgasm followed in suit just seconds after. It felt like a tidal wave swallowing you whole, you were drowning but in the best way. It was hard to describe; but it was a high you never wanted to come down from. You were speechless; there were no words to describe just how on top of the world you were currently feeling. 

Mark called it a sex high. Whenever you and your boyfriend would find yourselves tangled in the sheets, you felt like you were in another world. Maybe it was just a high off of Mark himself. He was hot; there was no doubt about it and honestly you could stare at him all day if time permitted you to. For a couple of minutes, there was a peaceful silence.

All you wanted to do was calm your rapid heartbeat and to get your breathing under control. Mark’s heart pounded against your chest and his dick that was once hard as a rock was now soft and limp inside of your cavern—neither of you moved; he was pressed up against your breasts and his head was smashed up along your collarbone. Your mind was too hazy to really feel the stickiness of his sweaty body, but if this were under different circumstances you probably would’ve pushed him off. 

Less than five minutes later, Mark leaned back enough so that he had a better view to look at you. He gently brushed back some of your hair and glided his thumb along your cheek—bringing it down to your bottom lip. The soft smile he was giving you as you placed a kiss amongst the calloused digit sent electricity through your veins. In times like these; where you were bare, not just physically but spiritually and mentally and in the comfort of your boyfriends arms, you always felt so safe—so at ease, so serene, so loved. 

You might have just did something so naughty, yet you couldn’t help but blush timidly. No matter how many times the two of you relished in your love for one another, you always felt so shy with his wandering eyes gazing all along your body. Even if he’s seen you naked at least a hundred times, you still found yourself turning red under his stare. 

A few sweet kisses were placed against your mouth as what you assumed was a distraction because as he began to nibble on your bottom lip, he slowly pulled himself out from your slick walls. The two of you groaned at the feeling of emptiness; you gave him a glare—upset that he pulled out so soon especially since you told him earlier that you were in the mood for cockwarming. 

“Mark—“

“I know, I’m sorry baby. I just want to clean you up and get us ready for bed. I think your pussy puts me to sleep a lot more often now. But if you want to take a bath, I can go prepare one for you—“ 

Something about the thought of fucking Mark to exhaustion made you giggle. Especially because moments ago, he was wanting to continue having sex for much longer. “No, I don’t think I can walk you asshole. I’ll just take one in the morning before my shift. But thank you. Am I wearing you out Tuan?”

“Yes and I’m not afraid to admit it. I think five orgasms in less than two hours would do that to someone. You’re so fucking sexy and so damn good to me there’s no point in trying to conceal my feelings for the sake of my pride. I’d shout it at the top of my lungs if I had to—I’m completely whipped for you and I have every intention on keeping it that way for the rest of our lives. Now, I’ll be right back okay?” 

With a couple of kisses against the corner of your mouth, he disappeared in to your bathroom. It was only natural for you to snicker to yourself at the sight of his cute little butt as he quickly walked over to get a warm wash cloth and a bottle of water. You decided to take that time to reminisce on tonight’s escapade. 

Every time you thought about your love making sessions with Mark, your stomach would swarm with butterflies. In the beginning of your relationship when you were just beginning to learn more and more about each other, the sex the two of you would experiment in was exciting, fun and intoxicating—not that it wasn’t like that anymore. 

But now that you were both so madly in love with one another, it was more passionate, more meaningful and a lot more desirable. You always had to be touching him and without even having to ask him, he’d always have his hands on you too. The bed sank and before you could even comprehend what was going on, a wet towel was gently being brushed along your lower body. 

He first got in between your thighs, making sure to wipe up any excess cum that might have dripped from your entrance. Then he brought it up to your navel, making sure to rid visible sweat—then finally he cleaned your folds and with the way a tingling sensation began to develop, you knew he was purposely taking his time to mess around with and to get a rise out of you. 

Right as you were about to whine in attempts to get him to stop, he got another washcloth and wiped your face. Mark was well aware of how your skincare was very important to you. He’d watch you take the time to put on moisturizer, toner and sunscreen on in the mornings and right before bed. 

It was the little things that he recognized that made your heart swell; no matter how many times a day he’d tell you that he loved you, he professed his love just a little bit more through his actions. Once he was done, he helped you put on a clean pair of underwear and one of his t-shirts—a reoccurring act of affection he did not too long after you came down from your highs. 

With a sweet kiss on your forehead, he went back in to the bathroom to prepare for bed; brushing his teeth and putting on a pair of sweatpants before taking his spot next to you under the covers. By instinct, you were pulled up against his chest and his arms snaked around your hips. He left wet kisses all along your face; making sure to steal a few pecks from your lips as he smiled against your mouth. 

“That was mind blowing as always. My pretty—pretty baby, you’re so fucking perfect. What did I do to deserve you? God, I can’t believe it’s been so long since we’ve made love—“

“It’s been three days Mark—“

“Exactly. That’s a long time baby. Especially because I crave you every second of the day. I can’t get over how wonderful you are. Literally flawless. Rest up baby, once you come home tomorrow I’m having you again and again and again—“

“Oh God, how I’m not pregnant at this point is still a mystery to me. Horndog.” 

He let out the most adorable little giggle while turning your body so that he was spooning you. He’s told you many times that as much as he loved being able to see your face, he was more comfortable in this position. You were confident it was because he’d get to feel your ass pressed up against his length, but you didn’t want him feeling embarrassed if that was the real reason behind. Besides, you felt so safe and protected in this position. 

However, you’ve been contemplating on voicing your feelings about how nights would end right after you and your boyfriend would tap out from either exhaustion or overstimulation. Sure, you loved the cuddling and being held by him, but that was pretty much it. He’d kiss you a couple of times and then he’d say good night. If you both had even the tiniest amount of energy, you’d stay up and talk about whatever it was that your hearts desired. 

You wanted to kiss him for much longer than the fleeting kisses—you fantasized about spending a little more time with his soft lips on yours. Maybe he saved the makeout sessions for the bedroom. But even during sex, the kisses were hot and wild—in the heat of the moment, but you were too busy focusing on being penetrated to really enjoy kissing him. 

“Well, I mean my pullout game is the best—“

“You literally just came inside of me that’s a joke right?” 

He let out a scoff of disbelief and although you couldn’t see him, he playfully rolled his eyes. “I mean, well, you know—yeah whatever. The thought of impregnating you is a huge kink of mine. You’re stuck with me for the rest of our lives. You’re going to be the best mother one day and the cutest little pregnant lady. I can’t wait to see you swollen with my baby and I’m even more impatient in finally starting a family with you. You really are the love of my life. Look at how sappy you’ve made me. Mmm, I love you, I love you, I love you. Sweet dreams my love.” 

Hearing him confess all that he did about his love for you and the future the two of you had together—you couldn’t stop the smile from taking over the entirety of your face. Almost every single thing Mark said—no matter how naughty or straight up cheesy it was never failed to make your heartbeat increase. You were soon feeling silly for worrying about such a minuscule thing and you wished it could have been enough for you. Yet, the question was on the tip of your tongue; you were mentally battling with yourself. 

There had to be a reason why the kissing stopped once you both reached your fill. You didn’t want to seem too clingy or overdramatic—maybe you were overthinking things. Your mind kept telling you to leave it alone and that he had his reasons, yet you couldn’t stop the tiny voice in your head that begged you to continue to pry at him. Mark looked down at you in curiosity when you turned around to face him. He lifted up your chin and furrowed his brows in confusion. 

“Everything alright y/n?”

“Why don’t you kiss me more?” Your question was muffled since you were too shy to ask him out right and hid your face in the crook of his neck. 

“What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you—“

“I want you to kiss me more.”

“Wait, what? What do you mean? Where is this coming from baby?” 

An exasperated sigh fell from your lips and you were soon regretting actually asking him the question that’s been weighing heavy on your mind for months now. It was extremely silly now that the question was actually out there but the reason why your relationship with your boyfriend had been so healthy all these years is because conversation was one of the most important keys to making sure you were both on the same page. 

The last thing Mark wanted was for you to be uncomfortable or to feel as though you had to hide your feelings for his sake. Which is why you weren’t surprised to see him looking at you worriedly, waiting patently for you to go in to further detail. 

“Right before we go to bed, whether it’s after sex or just once we’re done doing whatever it is after we both come home from work, you give me a few kisses and then we cuddle and fall asleep. Don’t get me wrong, I really enjoy doing those things. I just—I want more. I love kissing you if you didn’t already know that by now. Kissing you is one of my favorite activities that we do because your lips are so addicting. But we only ever passionately kiss during sex and when we make out it usually leads to love making and theres really nothing wrong with that. I just wish we could kiss without having it end up or only be during sex.” 

Although the lights were off and you could barely see him, you could tell he was wearing a blank expression on his face. He continued his ministrations of gliding his fingers along your sides but he stayed silent for a few moments. You wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow you whole; you were so embarrassed but this was your boyfriend. 

He needed to know how you felt if your relationship was going to continue as beautifully as it currently was. To your surprise, he lifted up your chin and reconnected your lips together in a very passionate kiss. His hands cupped either sides of your face and he roughly nipped and sucked on your lips; leaving you breathless as he deepened the kiss further.

It was only natural for you to smile against his mouth; you were hoping you didn’t upset him and that he was only kissing you like this to please you. You were hoping he too was finding some enjoyment in kissing you right now. As his lips continued to attack yours, he took that chance to flip you on top of your back and stole a couple more kisses before sucking on your sweet spot right below your ear. This was what you wanted; it felt so wonderful and you felt even more closer to him than you felt a little over half an hour ago with his cock buried deep inside of you. 

“How was that? By that gorgeous smile of yours and the way your lips are swollen I’m assuming you quite liked that.” You nodded in agreement and stole a few kisses from the corner of his mouth. 

“I’m sorry if I made you feel as though I’m not interested in continuing our intimacy once we’re about to go to bed. Trust me, kissing you is my favorite thing to do with you too. You drive me fucking crazy. I’ve actually questioned myself about this numerous times too but I just assumed you were tired and I didn’t want to press you in to doing something just because I wanted to do it. Plus—“ 

He led your hand down to his sweatpants and your cheeks grew warm at the feeling of his hardened cock. It never failed to make you laugh seeing as how easy it was for him to grow horny at just the simplest touch. “This is why our make out sessions lead to sex and why I was hesitant about telling you that I wanted to be more intimate with you rather than the small pecks and holding you before falling asleep myself. It’s just going to lead in to another round. God, I sound like such a nymphomaniac but I’m proud to say that I am. I got a very sexy girlfriend, who could blame me for wanting to relish in our love at least once a day? Well, now that I know how you feel y/n, I would love to kiss you more. A lot more. why don’t we experiment a little tonight and see where it leads tomorrow?” You beamed up with him and with all the energy you still had left inside of you, flipped your bodies so you were on top. It obviously riled him up and the cheeky grin he was giving you sent warmth to your core. 

“That sounds like a plan. Now kiss me.”

“With pleasure.”

#got7 imagines #mark tuan #got7 mark #got7 #got7 scenarios

[raleighcarrera]

saved by the bell

foreign affairs | m!blaine hayes x mc (kennedy monroe)

blaine springs kennedy from her date in chapter 10.

catch up: knockout (E) / on the ropes (T) / outpoint (T) / parry (E) / pulling punches (T) / ringside (T)

tagging: @pixeljazzy ; @zigtheeortega ; @pixelsandkink ; @writinghereandthere ; @choicesarehard ; @dakotawinchester ; @flyawayboo ; @withbeautyandrage ; @blainehellyes ; @levineseth ; @gryffindordaughterofathena ; @thefirstcourtesan ; @josieplayschoices 

~3.5k words | T

he’s not going to look.

no matter how much his phone lights up with incoming notification after incoming notification, he’s not going to look. blaine refuses to torture himself by checking for photos of kennedy’s date, though his curiosity is eating him alive.

it’s a nice reprieve from worrying about her, at any rate, even if it is maddening.

lately it feels like all he’s done is worry about her, though that’s mostly because kennedy looks to be about an inch away from tears every time she’s around -- not that it’s often, anymore. there’s absolutely nothing worse than seeing her suffer from the sidelines; he still feels just as helpless as he did when he watched her give that first disastrous press conference in his dorm, the day after the pictures hit voyeur. 

it’s unbelievably frustrating, being forced to sit on his hands and watch everyone else try to control her life. kennedy’s under a microscope like neither of them have ever been before, and for the first time in his life, he’s in the uncomfortable position of having to be careful -- not because he gives a shit about himself or his own reputation, but because of her, and what it might do to her if he was reckless.

he’s bitten his tongue more times in the last week than he has in his entire life. it’d taken every last ounce of his self control not to snap and defend kennedy at the pet store, not to panic when she’d clued him in on her mom’s newest pr strategy, not to keep her locked in the teacher’s lounge with him for the rest of the semester and refuse to let her go when she snuck out to meet him.

already he knows he’ll never forget the names and faces of the classmates of theirs that’d picked on her. if he ever really does wind up in charge in ardona, one day, he’ll come to power with a ready-made list of enemies, all because of the way they’d made her look when she sunk down low into her seat in class, her shoulders hunched in shame.

he’s laying in bed, moping miserably, thinking over it all when peter pokes his head in with a hesitant knock. “how’re you holding up?” he asks, tactfully, given that blaine’s pretty sure he looks utterly awful. “those daily post photos were... rough.”

blaine groans, burying his face in his hands. “i’m not looking at them. i don’t want to know.”

“that’s probably for the best,” peter says sympathetically, and that does it -- seals the deal completely. he reaches for his phone, snatching it off the nightstand.

dionne’s also texted him, which means the photos are as bad as he’s hoping they won’t be. his stomach twists into knots as he navigates to his favorite gossip site, certain the pictures he’s looking for will be plastered all over the homepage.

sure enough -- there they are: kennedy and alexei, huddled together outside of some swanky restaurant, hand-in-hand. she’s all dressed up for the occasion, because with alexei she’s allowed to be; she doesn’t have to sneak out to see him, hidden under a baseball hat in some far away place where no one will recognize either of them. the point of this date is to be seen, and judging by the crowd of flashing lights surrounding them, they’ve done a perfect job selling their relationship to the press.

so the second picture accompanying the story is an unnecessary twist of the knife -- complete overkill. they’re kissing, in this one, lips pressed together chastely just outside the limo. he feels nauseous.

“they’re probably having a terrible time,” peter says, though blaine’s still staring at his phone, eyes fixed on the photo in his hands. “i heard that restaurant is horrible.”

“it’s fine,” blaine says hollowly, tapping back to his texts to answer dionne. she wants to know how he is, too, and he gives her the same answer: fine. everything is fine.

“you’re so full of shit,” dionne says, when she shows up at his dorm twenty minutes later, her arms folded across her chest and her expression unimpressed.

yeah. he forgot she knows him so well. “well -- whatever,” blaine sighs, dragging a hand down his face. it doesn’t matter. it has to not matter, for kennedy’s sake. “it’s not like i can do anything about it. this is the way it has to be.”

the look in dionne’s eyes grows distant, and he sits up slowly as a smile starts to overtake her face, cautiously optimistic while what’s obviously an evil plan begins to unfurl. “no,” dionne says, “it’s not. i think i have an idea.”

so -- that’s how he finds himself sweating through his jacket, overthinking this whole stupid plan while he waits for kennedy to slip out the back of the stupid opera house and meet him and his stupid rental car in the alley. he thinks back over all the ways they’d had to cover his tracks to get him here: how peter’d had to call in the car, how dionne’d had to threaten and sweet talk alexei at the same time, how there isn’t a single hurdle he wouldn’t leap or hoop he wouldn’t jump through for even just half an evening alone with her.

this is probably a terrible idea. at the very least, it’s dangerous, and sure to get them fucking caught again, no matter how careful they all were in making it happen.

maybe he should call the whole thing off. call dionne and get her to tell kennedy to forget it -- to go back to her date and take the easy way out, because who is he kidding, anyway?

the sound of heels on the cobblestones takes the decision swiftly out of his hands. blaine looks up to see kennedy standing in front of him, admiring the rental with a gentle smirk on her beautiful face. she looks even more ridiculously gorgeous than she had in the daily post pictures, as annoying as that is. 

she’s alone.

“no limo? that’s not very romantic, mr. hayes,” she teases playfully, mouth stretched wide with a smile.

he leans over to pop the door open for her, grinning to cover up his nerves. just having kennedy around is going a long way towards keeping him calm -- he feels undeniably more sane out here with her than he had in his room, pouting with fruitless jealousy. “take it up with dionne,” he shrugs, eyes raking up and down her outfit. she really does look nice. “now hop in.”

“we have three hours and forty-five minutes,” kennedy says helpfully, as soon as they’ve slipped out of town unseen and headed to the highway, “i have to be back by curtain.”

“i know,” blaine hums, sighing with relief as soon as he glances in the rearview mirror and sees they aren’t being followed, “dionne briefed me. she figured out a whole plan.”

“oh,” kennedy says. she sounds... happy. “that was really nice of her.” there’s a pause, and he fidgets with the steering wheel for a moment before shifting his left hand up to the top to steer so his right arm is free to drape across the back of kennedy’s seat. she leans in closer to the center console and continues, “i really wish it was you in there with me.”

he exhales heavily. more relieving than not being followed, than being with her at all is hearing that -- that he’s not alone in his insanity. lately he feels like a completely different person, and he has no idea what’s come over him, so it’s comforting to know that it’s all for something, beyond just making kennedy smile. evidently, she wants to be his stupid girlfriend just as badly as he wants her to. “me, too. you have no idea. i’ve really missed you, these past few days.”

“i know. it’s weird,” kennedy agrees, “hardly seeing you. not being able to text you, and tell you about my day... i mean -- i barely even get to talk to you, outside of class.”

yeah. he knows. and when there’s other people around he has to watch what he fucking says, too. it’s far from ideal, and he knows he’s gotten sloppy, but...

part of him almost wants someone to catch them. blaine knows it’s selfish and stupid, but he wants it all the same. because if someone found out the truth and spilled the beans... they’d be free, and the impossible decision of what to do next would be out of their hands.

he could never ask kennedy to go public on her own. he would never ask her for that, no matter how badly he wants it. but a slip-up... that would be beyond their control.

blaine shakes his head. “it’s fine,” he says again, clearing his throat, “i’ll plan some secret meet up for us every night, if you want. even if it only buys us a few minutes.”

he glances to the side just in time to catch the look that crosses her face. kennedy’s quite obviously touched by his offer, her teeth digging into her bottom lip as she stares down at her hands. forcefully, he drags his eyes back to the road. “i’d really like that,” she murmurs, so quietly he almost misses it. when he only nods, she raises her voice and asks, “so, where are we going?”

“you’ll see,” he directs, taking the exit that’ll bring them to the drive-in, mentally cataloging the travel time it’d taken to get up here and making a note of the minutes he’ll need to account for to get kennedy back, especially if he has to circle the block until the street is empty before he drops her off. 

her eyes light up when he pulls into the parking lot. “a drive-in theater, seriously? i used to love going to the drive-in back home. i didn’t know they had them near vancross.” her nose is practically pressed against the window as she looks around excitedly while he idles.

“this is my first time,” blaine admits, though how eager kennedy is definitely bodes well for the experience. even if it completely sucked, he’d still bring her back every weekend, just to see her smile like that. “we don’t really have these in ardona, but dionne talked it up.”

kennedy finally peels her eyes away from the window to smile playfully at him again, her eyes sparkling. “so you’re a drive-in virgin? interesting.”

his face feels hot, suddenly. blaine rolls his eyes at her, gesturing at the map of the venue in front of them. they’re kind of holding up the line. “yeah, yeah. pick your movie, rutherland. it’s just background noise for the real show, anyway.”

if he’s being honest, he barely hears her make her choice, the instructions on where to go flying in one ear and out the other. all he cares about for where he parks the car is that it’s secluded, and dark, away from prying eyes and any other people in the lot.

fortunately, blaine finds them the perfect spot, and he doesn’t even waste a second pretending like he gives a single shit about the movie at all, his eyes on her just as soon as the gear shift’s out of his hand.

kennedy’s turned in her seat and already looking back at him. she smiles and says, “thanks for doing this. it’s nice to have a normal date. i never pegged you as the type of guy who was all about carnivals and drive-ins and making these fun experiences for us.”

he shrugs, more nonchalantly than he feels. “probably ‘cause i’m not,” blaine answers honestly, “but everything’s different, with you.”

kennedy makes a soft sound of disbelief, lifting her hands to cover her face. when she peeks out from between her fingers, he sees that she’s smiling widely again. “you keep saying stuff like that. it’s so charming.”

blaine laughs, reaching out to tug her hands off her face. “that’s kind of the point.” he clears his throat, then continues more seriously, “but... i want you to know how i feel, you know? you shouldn’t have to guess. the truth is... i’ve been all-in for awhile, now, and -- those pictures were just a shitty setback. they don’t change the way i feel about you at all.”

she reaches out for his hand, and he lets her lace their fingers together, squeezing affectionately. “you have no idea how nice it feels to hear that,” kennedy sighs. “honestly...” the hesitation in her voice makes it clear she’s unsure of whatever she’s about to say, but she continues, “it kind of just felt like i ruined everything. things were actually going pretty well, for once, but now it’s like there’s this... dark cloud hanging over everything i do. i can’t even hang out with you without worrying we’re going to get caught again.”

his expression softens. he’s not usually one for optimism, but for her, and in the interest of getting some of that thick sadness out of her voice, he’ll try. “well, we’ve done a pretty good job avoiding that so far.”

“that’s true.” kennedy’s head tips back agains the carseat, and she smiles at him again. “i guess we’re making it work, in our own way. i love that i can always count on you to be real with me. it’s so -- refreshing, after all the fake posturing we deal with.”

well -- that’s probably as good an opening as he’s ever going to get. he spares a moment to silently thank whatever god is listening for the chance to ask the question that’s been eating at him for hours, the one thing he’s most desperate to know, beyond even the other stuff that usually keeps him up at night, everything from the simple inner workings of kennedy’s mind to why he’s so tripped up over a girl he’s only spent a few short months with. “speaking of fake...” blaine pointedly looks somewhere beyond her, staring out at the parking lot, “how’d your date go?”

kennedy’s quiet for long enough that he has to look back at her. there’s a knowing little glint in her eyes that he decidedly does not like. “are you jealous?”

“what?” he scoffs, “of course not. you left alexei to go out with me.”

“right,” she laughs, one small word injected with endless disbelief. “well, we had a good time. alexei’s not so bad.”

he’s an egomaniac and a self-centered prick, actually, blaine thinks. out loud, he says, “oh. cool. glad it worked out. cool, cool, cool...”

he fidgets restlessly. kennedy’s visible amusement only grows. “you know it was still a fake date, right? neither of us have any interest in the other.”

“i know,” blaine insists defensively. kennedy only arches an eyebrow at him. with a groan, he slumps back in his seat, a hand rubbing at his jaw. “fine, maybe i am a little jealous. give me a break, okay? this is kind of a unique situation for me.”

“if it helps, i think you’re doing a pretty great job.” she’s still smiling at him, but less like she thinks he’s being funny and more like she thinks he’s being sweet. she leans in a little closer, and -- it actually does help. the knots in his stomach that’d been coiled there since she first said her mom’s team was planning a pr relationship for her are finally starting to unwind.

“yeah?” he asks, gratified by the immediate nod she gives. “that’s good. i don’t wanna half-ass this boyfriend stuff just because it’s new to me.”

there’s a long stretch of silence. he realizes what he’s said all at once and starts to feel nauseous all over again, staring silently back at kennedy while he waits for her to say something -- anything.

“boyfriend stuff?” 

“ah.” his hand slips around to rub at the back of his neck sheepishly. “sorry. slipped out.” he should probably just cut his losses now -- bring her back early to be on the safe side and go back to his dorm and drown himself in the shower, because he is an idiot and that’s what an idiot deserves. “i know you kind of already have a boyfriend.”

kennedy huffs out a quiet laugh. “i kind of do.” she tilts her head to meet his eyes, forcing him to look at her again. his heart stutters painfully in his chest, picking up into a pace that’s almost frantic. “but... that’s not a ‘no.’”

their hands are still linked together. he looks down at where their fingers are interlaced, hoping his palms aren’t as sweaty as they feel. blaine disentangles his hand to lift it instead to kennedy’s face, pushing a lock of hair out of her eyes with a hesitant smile she immediately returns tenfold. 

it’s also not a ‘yes,’ but he’ll take what he can get. 

as it turns out, three hours and forty-five minutes is kind of not actually a long time at all.

or maybe it would be, for some people, but with kennedy in his lap, squished between him and the steering wheel so she can kiss him senseless, the time flies by. they watch what’s probably ten minutes total of the movie, they’re so busy kissing and talking, his hands wandering along her new outfit to show his appreciation for it the only way he knows how.

for her part, kennedy gives as good as she gets, tugging his hair out of place and messing up his jacket and making him forget his own name, with the way her hips are pushing into his lap and all the sweet little sounds she makes when he whispers something dirty in her ear and presses her in closer against him.

no amount of agonizing over her fake dates and not being able to kiss her in public is ever going to drive the way she shivers with her whole body when he says something she likes from his mind.

still, the drive back is somber. it’s time to bring kennedy -- kiss-swollen lips and raised hemlines and all -- back to the opera house before he knows it, and he’s really not looking forward to everyone who sees her thinking she spent four hours fooling around in the private box with alexei, of all people. he’s looking forward to driving home alone and going to bed by himself even less.

tomorrow he’ll have to sit by her in class again and pretend like everything’s fine.

because they had tonight, and he knows he should be content with that. the problem is -- he’s not. 

“you okay?” kennedy asks, checking the time on the watch on his wrist with a frown. she’s holding his hand in both of hers. “and don’t say you’re ‘fine.’”

“i am fine,” blaine insists, running his thumb across her wrist. “this sucks, but it’s what we have to do. if you’re good, then i’m good.”

she studies his expression for a minute, then sighs. “i’m as good as i can be,” she murmurs, “but things will get better.”

he knows that, too. even if no one ever finds out it’s him in the photos, even if they have to spend the rest of their lives sneaking out and ditching their bodyguards so they can find a few hours alone together -- things are good. the alternative -- winning the fight with his parents to keep him away from vancross, never getting the chance to know kennedy as well as he does... that’s a future that seems bleak, now that he’s seen the alternative.

“it’s really alright,” blaine assures her. “i’ll miss you, but... do what you gotta do.”

something about the way he says the words seems to instill new confidence in kennedy. she straightens her shoulders and glances back at the opera house door with determination. “thanks,” kennedy sighs, squeezing his hand one last time before slowly pulling away. she probably has only seconds until the finale starts up, though he’s desperate for a way to make them stretch longer. an eternity would be a nice place to start.

“will you... text dionne goodnight before you go to bed?” she asks, looking so hopeful he finds it’s impossible to do anything other than nod.

he grins widely at kennedy, leaning in to steal one last kiss. “dream about me, will ya?”

“every night,” she promises, and blaine lowers the window to get a better view of her and the sway of her hips when she slips out of the car and back inside, sighing heavily once she’s gone and he’s alone again, whacking his head against the carseat.

this is some mess they’ve gotten themselves into.

but, he figures, as he pulls away from the curb and starts back towards campus, the image of kennedy walking away in the heels and skirt she’d been wearing playing over and over again in his mind like a highlight reel, it’s definitely not without its perks.

#blaine hayes #foreign affairs #choices foreign affairs #blaine hayes x mc #myfic #long post

[closer-stars]

Rushed Steps - Wooyoung, Yunho

Member/s: Yunho, Wooyoung Requested: Yes! Genre: Fluff for the most part. A bit of Angst.  AU: University Content: some swearing. food. yunho and wooyoung are in the same dance team. wooyoung’s bit of an asshole. some alcohol but no one gets wasted. 

Note: Had to separate this into two parts and control myself because otherwise, this part 1 would be four thousand words. I promise, part 2 will have the angst. ;; 

You knew of Yunho through a common class under a terror professor back in first year, the bond solidifying through their insane requirements. Since then, both of you have become inseparable. You quickly found out he was a member of the dance team in your university. Being the good friend you were, every performance he has, you were there to watch him. Most of the time. See, there was one performance you watched where a new face took center stage. From there, he just got you. Through the whispers and hollers, you found out his name.

Jung Wooyoung. 

Due to the bond you had with Yunho, the dance crew eventually adopted you even if you didn’t dance. This also meant that it would only be a matter of time until you formally introduced to the new face. 

“Hey!! Thank you for watching!!” Yunho yells after taking a few photos with friends after his show. He takes you in his arms and spins you around, much to your protests.

“Yunho you dumbass!! Put me down!” You complain, trying to flail about in his arms. He does as he’s told (after much more whining), and you say your praises to him and to the members near him. “You guys did so good! Was that why you asked me if I had some sort of connection to a printing shop?! For those banners?!” You jokingly complain as you repeatedly hit the tall male’s arms. Payback. “Also, how many new faces do you guys have?! I swore I saw like twenty out on stage and I know for a fact that wasn’t makeup.” Whenever you got so excited, your words run faster than Yunho’s feet can keep up to electronic music. 

“Speaking of-- Hey Wooyoung!” Yunho replies, calling someone a few feet away from you. 

Your heart stops for a few moments. You didn’t think it would happen that fast. You look over your shoulder, trying to play it cool as you search the sea of people for that face. You spot him talking to a friend before approaching the both of you. 

“What’s up?!” The platinum blond male asks, eyes scanning you for a quick moment before turning to Yunho. 

Did he just give you the head to toe look? 

“Remember that time we suddenly had boxes of pizza on the week of our show?” Yunho asks, his hand now on your head, making a quick mess of your hair. 

“Fuck’s sake-- Yunho!” You cry out, whacking his hand away from your head. This doesn’t deter him at all, in fact it just makes him laugh as he continues.

“Yeah. Was it from her?” The male asks, his full attention now on you as you still try to swat Yunho’s hand away from your head. 

Now that you realized his attention was on you, you stopped quickly. You give him a polite bow, eyeing him, trying to not look like you were already interested in him (note: trying). “Hi yeah, that’s me. It’s nice to meet you!” You introduce yourself to him and you could’ve sworn you felt butterflies in your tummy as you hear him laugh. 

“It’s nice to meet you too, sweet cheeks. Jung Wooyoung’s the name.” 

The rest of the night goes by quickly, a lot of joking around with the crew and friends to celebrate a perfect performance. You were situated in between Wooyoung and Yunho for the entire duration of the night. While Yunho was busy talking to other friends and their coaches, Wooyoung didn’t leave you alone the entire time. The both of you spent the entire time getting to know each other much to your delight. 

“You aren’t going home yet?” 

“Nah, I’m Yunho’s designated driver.”

“He has plans of drinking still? Ooooh, our captain’s going to drink?” He asks, a teasing lilt in his voice.

“I’m going to fight that bean stalk if he has plans of drinking tonight.” you jest. “Nah, it’s a running thing between the two of us: after every performance that I get to watch of him, I drive him back to his place.” 

“So say, if we have another performance, I get to see you?”

Where was he going with this? You had a feeling but you were going to wait it out.

“Yes... why?” 

“Will you watch me too then?” 

“Wooyoung, your stage presence is very strong, it’d be hard for me not to.” You knew when to give credit after all. You had to learn that the hard way as you watched Yunho start from rookie member to legendary captain. 

“Good, cause the team has a small gig two weeks from now and I want to see you in the crowd, looking at me.” 

You nearly spat out your drink at his forwardness. His phone was in front of you after you regain your composure. 

“Think I can get your number?” He asks, the charming smile on his lips haven’t left his features since. Out of shock, you type in your number in his phone then hand it back to him. Shortly after, Yunho makes a return to your table and notices Wooyoung typing his number into your phone. 

“What did I miss?” The male asks, causing you to quickly look at him. He spots your dusted cheeks and for a moment he thought you had a couple of drinks. Wooyoung’s next few words causes two different reactions. 

“Other than, me asking your lovely friend out here a date? Not much.” He replies simply. He calls the number you had typed into his phone, to make sure. 

You look at the confident blond in shock. Did he just?

Your best friend stares at his teammate in disbelief. What?

“I gotta go. I still got a few papers due in the next few days. See you soon, Leader. I’ll see you in a few days, sweet cheeks.” He shoots you a wink as he slides out of his seat. 

The blond leaves the two with their jaws agape. 

“D-did he just-” 

“I guess so.”

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

“Yunho, I don’t know what to wear!” You were frantically looking through your closet. Yunho was on speaker as you put up clothes to your body, hoping to look for a good outfit. You think by now, you wouldn’t be too antsy about what you were but this was Wooyoung. God knows how long you’ve stayed single since your last relationship. 

Yunho was on his spinny chair, as he likes to call it, as he fixes his notes. He could hear you rummage through your clothes before tossing them on to your bed. “Why not wear that outfit you wore for that presentation, with the heeled boots?” He says under his breath. He’s starting to regret introducing you to Wooyoung. While you were unaware of what people said about the now lavender boy, Yunho eventually caught wind of it. He was known to lead unsuspecting people on and you were now one of them. While this was already your third date, he wasn’t sure how long Wooyoung would keep this up. He wasn’t sure either how long he could stand on the sidelines of this. 

“Yunho, genius!” You exclaim, snapping him out of his thoughts. You liked how you looked. It accentuated all the good things about your body. You take a quick photo of your outfit, flashing a peace sign to the camera and sent it to him as thanks. 

“Hey, where are you and Wooyoung meeting again?” He asks, tapping his pen against his notebook in thought. 

You explain for what could’ve been the tenth time where you guys were going to be. “Yunho, are you okay?” You ask, concern was peeking through your voice. 

“Huh--? Yeah, I’m fine. You know how being a captain and being a student can be.” He says with a careful laugh. He glances at the time. He’ll give you guys thirty minutes before ‘passing by’ to make sure Wooyoung follows his word. “Just have fun okay? Call me up if anything happens.” 

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

He arrives near where you and Wooyoung were supposed to be, with five minutes to spare. He keeps his distance, to make sure you don’t spot him. He sees you look at your phone then sigh as you slowly sip your tea. He couldn’t deny how lovely you looked in that outfit. Maybe he really was a genius (now if that could translate into his applied chemistry class...). 

He casually steps into the coffee shop, making sure you don’t catch him yet. He quickly orders something for himself before sliding into the seat across you.

Three.

Two. 

One. 

“Hey buttercup.” He says softly. 

You jump in your seat, not having expected to see him. It was a welcomed presence. That was when you realized that Wooyoung had stood you up. The short replies and less conversations, should’ve told you but you tried to look at the positive side. A bitter scoff leaves your lips. 

“I guess I was an idiot.” You say as you stir your tea. If you had known any different, you would’ve stopped this by the second date. You admittedly lost a bit of your appetite to even finish what’s left of your tea. 

“You didn’t know.” He returns gently. His coffee and the muffins were then served to your table. 

“You ordered two muffins?”

“Yeah. One for me and one for you. I don’t know how long you’ve been here, but you’re probably hungry.” He reasons. 

You take a bite as thanks. You were quiet for the most part, still mentally berating yourself for having fallen so easily for Wooyoung’s charms. 

“Tell you what, let’s make this a date?” He offers after a few more moments. He didn’t like seeing you this down and his words were flying out faster than he could keep up. Maybe he could make a house footwork drill to the beat of how he was speaking. 

“What?” 

“A-as friends!” He quickly follows it up, stalling for time by sipping on his coffee. This burns his tongue for a few moments though. 

You stare at him, dumbfounded. You haven’t had time with him alone for so long that maybe a date with him didn’t sound so bad. 

“Nevermind I said anythi--”

“That sounds like a good idea.” You say quickly, the corners of your lips quirking upwards. This perks up the golden retriever of a best friend you had as he continues to eat his share. 

“Yunho?” 

“Yes?”

You hand him some tissue, then tap the corner of your lips. “You got a little something on the corner of your lips.”

And so it was a date-- as friends. The both of you spend the majority of the day going around different shops, trying on different clothes. Yunho tries on a few clothes that clearly weren’t his colors and strikes a few poses much to your delight. 

“Oh my god, I don’t know you.” You sputter out in between laughs as he dons a neon pink blazer and starts to comically mimic your terror professor. “As I was saying before! Did you not listen?” He spouts off words that your professor was known for saying in a nasally voice that sounded a little too close to Spongebob. This just causes you to double over from laughter. He laughs with you, knowing how embarrassing he looks and at how infectious your laughter was.

The both of you continue to walk around the streets after having bought matching hoodies. “As friends.” he repeats as he keeps his wallet.

“Sure, as friends.”  You scoff and gently tap the tip of your boots against his calf, watching him try on a pair of shades. 

The rest of the night goes without a hitch. You had Wooyoung out of your mind and you were enjoying the cheese tteokbokki that Yunho managed to get for you. The both of you listened to street performers sing to the crowd not far from you. Good company, good music and good food. How else can this day get any better?

“Thanks for today.” You say as you let the food settle in your stomach. The brown haired male glances at you, cheeks filled with the burger he was eating. He smiles brightly at you as if saying it was no big deal. The small bowl of tteokbokki rests on your lap, your head leaning against his shoulder. “I’m serious. I’m really thankful for today. It wasn’t expected but I had fun.” 

He was grateful you couldn’t see how red his ears had become. He finishes his burger quickly, his free hand rubbing your back lightly. “Anything for you.” He says simply, as he peeks at your features. “If you want, we can do this more often.” He offers. You scrunch your nose as his face enters your line of sight. 

“Wipe your mouth, you got ketchup and mustard on the corners of your lips.” You gaze at the male who wipes his lips in embarrassment. 

“And yeah, I’d like that.”

“Maybe more than friends?”

“Maybe.” 

While you two were busy enjoying each other’s presence and company, a lavender haired male had his eyes on you two while he was drinking with his best friend.

“Isn’t she that girl you kept hitting on?” His best friend asks after a shot. 

He shrugs, as he tears his gaze away from the two figures. He then pours both of them another shot. 

Why did his chest feel weird at the sight of you with someone else? 

#yunho #wooyoung #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez writing #jung yunho #jung wooyoung #ateez au #after this req someone req something fluff related to wooyoung #i feel bad making him look like a bad guy :c #dance related fics are my go to i am Sorry #my writings

[1-1snailxd-art]

Libraries are for Meetings

Master List —– Chapter 9

Chapter 10 - A tale of the Lost

Warnings: negative thoughts, homophobia, death mentioned

Summary: Logan and Virgil share a pleasant meal before their pasts bring it to a tear-filled end.

Word count: 4419

Note: reading on mobile can remove the paragraphing sometimes. Use desktop site or visit my Ao3 page if it bothers you as much as it bothers me.

This chapter includes art by @the-pastel-peach​. Respect the artist and myself and please do not repost. Share this post or the artists original links only.

 ____________________

  Logan held the door open and gestured for Virgil to enter; pizza boxes securely in his hands. The apartment was rather deceiving; though it had appeared narrow from the outside, the inner layout made it feel spacious and welcoming. Stepping past the kitchen to the small dining table, Virgil set the boxes down and eagerly flipped them open to reveal the greasy pizza, garlic knots and chocolate brownie. It was a meal fit for a king in his mind and he eagerly grabbed a slice to start eating before Logan appeared with napkins; humming as the treat warmed his very soul.

   “I take it you don’t get pizza very often?” Logan inquired, raising an eyebrow at the others euphoric face.

Instinctively shaking his head, Virgil swallowed and sheepishly took a napkin to wipe his face.

“Sorry. I was in such a hurry this morning I skipped breakfast.”

“That isn’t a frequent habit of yours, is it?” Virgil shrugged and chewed on the pizza crust; causing Logan to sigh and reach for his own slice. “Though some research suggests skipping meals, such as breakfast, is good for weight loss, the more prominent effect is reduced energy levels. If you want to be able to function at your best, you should have regular healthy meals.”

“Thanks, Google.” Virgil grinned, licking the oil from his fingers. “I’ll keep that in mind for the future. How’s this pizza look in terms of health factor?”

“Well, it does cover most of the major food groups; so, I think you will be okay.”

 The pair laughed and continued eating; Virgil once again impressed that Logan could be both serious and easy going. It was a comforting balance and with each exchange, he felt himself relaxing more and more in their presence. They bantered back and forth overeating habits and better food options until Logan excused himself to collect the hard drive he needed looked at.

Virgil moved the remains of their lunch to the kitchen and took a cloth to wipe the table clean of any oily residue. Satisfied, he set up his laptop before pulling his phone out, almost thankful to see Ben hadn’t replied; though he did wonder what it meant in the long run. Anxiety melted away when Logan returned, and he eagerly took the drive from his hands to dive into work. Pulling up screens with strings of file names and codes, Virgil clicked and scrolled through windows with the confidence of a child turning the pages of a book. Logan was lost watching him; same as the last time he watched him work.

   “Your intelligence certainly exceeds my own, Virgil.”

“What are you talking about?” He scoffed in reply, not looking away from the screen. “Who’s the science major with, I’m guessing, a full academic scholarship in this room?”

“I actually had offers for my academic and athletic abilities from various higher education institutes; but that’s beside the point.”

“Humbling remark there, Lo.”

“Yes; but, you certainly best me when it comes to computers. I honestly have no idea what it is you are doing right now. It just looks like keyboard smashing to me.”

The laugh that shook Virgil’s thin body was something he hadn’t experienced in a long time. It was weightless, uplifting and pure; and he could feel that it brought fresh colour to his cheeks.

“Just know,” he gasped through stifled giggles, “I will only see this as a keyboard smash from now on, and I love the fact that you compared it to that.”

“You’re welcome. Now, can you please explain what you are doing?”

“Oh, I’m cleaning the files. You haven’t been ejecting the disc properly and there was a lot of rough data. You gotta take care of your files man, it’s a delicate system.”

“Right,” Logan nodded but looked even more confused. “Would you show me how to - um - eject this… disc properly, at a later date?”

“Sure, Logan.” Virgil beamed, shaking his head slightly at the man’s uncertain tone.

   Clicking a file, an image loaded on the screen and Virgil grinned at Logan in triumph. A small smile sat on his face as he inspected the picture from his and Patton’s high school graduation.

“Looking good there, Lo.” He mused, pointing at the obviously fake smile plastered on their face. “That is a brilliant smile if I do say so myself.”

“I didn’t particularly enjoy the public display, nor the outfit. Have you saved all the images?” As Virgil nodded, Logan shuffled closer and reached towards the arrow keys. “Would you mind if I have a quick look?”

“The laptop is metaphorically yours.” He replied, angling the device closer for Logan to reach.

   Shuffling through the images, Virgil watched Logan’s face light up as each image loaded on the screen. Familiar faces of Roman and Katie flashed up, as well as many selfies with Patton. It wasn’t until Logan must have shuffled into another folder that the tone of the moment shifted; nostalgic joys replaced with sadness as Jason’s face began appearing in each photo. Selfies, photos taken from a bystander of the two close together, and shots from track races slid across the screen. 

*art by @the-pastel-peach​*

A new emotion snaked into Virgil’s gut that he hadn’t felt in a while. Jealousy. The happiness that emanated from every photo of Jason and Logan made Virgil’s stomach churn. It was different to the smile he saw in the photos with Patton; a clear indication of how different Logan’s relationships with both were.

Logan paused on an image of Roman holding Patton bridal style with Jason hugging Logan to their left; the biggest smile Virgil had ever seen spread across Logan’s face.

“You look really happy there.” He noted, half smiling at the sad man beside him.

“We were… but it wasn’t enough for Jason.”

“What do you mean?” Leaning back in his chair, Virgil knitted his brow in confusion. “Everything I’ve seen, and from what you’ve told me, it seemed you were both very happy. He loved you.”

A breathy laugh left Logan’s lips and he pressed the arrow key again, causing a video to begin playing. “Not enough.”

   Virgil watched the recording in silence; Logan leaning back and staring at the screen sadly. Jason held the camera on himself in dim flickering light, the muffled thump of music in the background as he spoke.

   “Hey, Lo, you left your phone behind, so I thought I’d leave a little message for you. I don’t know when you’re going to watch this or if I’m going to be with you, but whatever.”

He took a breath to steady himself and looked straight into the camera with soft determined features.

“Logan, we met in the best way possible; beating up a homophobic asshole and getting locked in a cell together. You were the first person from school I came out too and, by default, I was the first person you came out to. We went from strangers on the track, to friendly competitors, and I relished every opportunity to take you on. I held your hand when you came out to your parents. You were there when my Dad passed away. You supported my move to help Katie and Roman. I watched you beat my school track record and handed over that title with pride and an embrace they’re still talking about.”

He rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled to himself.

“And shit, you’re a good hugger, Logan. I mean, 10 out of 10 better than Patton.”

      Logan let out a small laugh and swiped a tear that escaped his eye; ignoring the voice screaming for him to stop the video before it ended.

      “Anyway, what I’m trying to get at is, we’ve been through a lot together… and, I want to go through more. So, Logan Mars…will you marry me?”

Jason broke into a laugh and swiped his eyes, before steadying the camera again.

“Let me know at your earliest convenience. And if not convenient, let me know all the same. I love you, Logan. But I know that’s no mystery to you.”

       The video ended on Jason’s half smiling face and Virgil sniffed, not even registering that he had even started crying. He had no reason to cry, really. He didn’t even know Jason, and yet he was crying. Jason had proposed. Logan had been engaged to marry the man he’d lost. It made it even more jarring when Logan spoke next.

   “He didn’t love me though.”

“Are you insane?” Virgil gasped, gesturing to the screen. “He proposed. Isn’t that the very definition of love, Logan? I didn’t know him, but Jason clearly loved you a lot.”

“That’s just it, Virgil.” The man turned and met his eye, “it looked that way to everyone, but I wasn’t enough.”

“Wha- How?”

“Do you know what happened after he recorded that message?” Logan paused but he wasn’t expecting an answer; merely allowing himself the chance to take a breath. “E’s sister had thrown a party at her house for the science majors. I’d just left because Patton wasn’t feeling well and accidentally left my phone behind in my rush. After recording that message, a fire broke out in the house and Jason went in to help get everyone out.”

Silent tears slipped from Logan’s eyes as he spoke, but his voice didn’t waver as he continued; Virgil remaining transfixed by every word.

“He pulled E out of the flames because she passed out in the lounge room; dropping my phone as he left to go back inside. He went back into a burning building, Virgil. The man who just proposed and was safely outside, went back in because he couldn’t leave it alone. His need to save everyone outweighed his love for me.”

Now Logan’s voice broke; no longer holding back his emotions.

“I wasn’t enough. My love wasn’t enough. Why wasn’t I enough for him, Virgil? Why didn’t he love me enough?”

   The room froze and Virgil’s lungs stopped working as he was hit with déjà vu. His own voice asking similar questions.

Why wasn’t I good enough for him?

Why doesn’t she love me?

Am I not good enough anymore?

   “You are enough.” Virgil demanded, initiating a hug he never thought he would ever willingly engage in. “We both are. Regardless of what others say.”

The words weren’t his own; parroted from a voice of his past that Virgil struggled to believe most days, but today he needed to believe it for Logan’s sake. They both needed to believe it.

Hands gently rubbed each other’s backs, a soothing support for each as their breaths calmed. Silence filled the air the longer they remained pulled close; neither wanting to move while they were raw with emotion.

“You are the first person I’ve shown that video,” Logan whispered; breaking the silence. “I kept his proposal to myself this whole time.”

“Why me now?” Virgil said in confusion, shifting slightly as his muscles ached from being still so long.

“I’m not sure.”

“Do you regret showing me?”

Logan shook his head against Virgil’s shoulder and breathed deeply. Despite his response, part of him posed the same sort of questions - why did he show Virgil? Why was he so eager to share everything with someone who was still an acquaintance? As his mind wondered, the silence stretched on again until a sigh cut through the still air.

“I’m no stranger to loss, Logan.” Virgil whispered; all fear washed away with his tears from earlier. “My only family is an aunt that I’m paying back for bailing me out, so I know what it’s like to feel alone…but you are far from alone.”

As each word was comprehended, Logan found his mind clearing; accepting the words of the man that felt far from a stranger to him.

“You have Patton, and Roman, and Katie, and E and…”

“You?”

Virgil chuckled and gave him a squeeze, “Yeah. I guess you can have me too.”

   They stayed together for a moment longer before slowly separating so Logan could grab something softer than the napkins they had on hand to clean up. Virgil picked up his phone and saw his dishevelled face in the reflection, before setting it down on the table and requesting directions to the bathroom.

“Upstairs. It’s pretty easy to spot.”

“Thanks. I’ll, um, be right back.”

   Logan sat back down at the computer and continued clicking through photos. He still didn’t understand why he allowed himself to get caught up in the images and reveal so much to Virgil. He was suddenly very aware of how impolite it was to meet someone and show them videos of your deceased partner so you could cry on their shoulder. Confusion aside, he felt a lot better in doing so and Virgil had even opened up slightly. The younger man had obviously lost his family in a way Logan could only assume was outside of the norm, and he was thankful they opened up slightly.

Watching the images flick by, he jumped as Virgil’s phone vibrated on the table. On impulse alone, Logan tilted the phone up to look at the illuminated screen before realising it wasn’t his own. Quickly setting it back down he moved into the kitchen and opened the fridge just as Virgil made his way down the stairs. He hadn’t meant to read the message, but he couldn’t take it back now and Logan knew he couldn’t broach the subject with Virgil. It left him silently shuffling through the kitchen in silence as he mulled over the message’s meaning while Virgil tapped away at the laptop keys.

   “Um, I’ve cleaned the drive and it should work fine for you now.” Virgil proclaimed, packing up the materials on the table.

“Thanks…for everything.” Cheeks heating with embarrassment, Logan took the drive from Virgil’s outstretched hand. “I got a little caught up in the moment and wen-”

“It’s fine, Lo.” As Virgil looked up from his bag, a genuine smile spread across his face. “Really. It was…nice and - um - I-I have a question.”

“Oh, sure. What is it?”

Pulling his bag up and over his shoulder, Virgil fiddled with his bag strap nervously and forced his mouth to cooperate.

“I know you’ve got a busy few days ahead, but…would you like to hang out again? At some point.”

“I’d like that.”

   Looking at Logan had Virgil’s heart racing and suddenly the voices were back. The woman’s voice disgusted at the idea of a man loving a man. The young men joking and teasing. The woman’s screams of anger. But then there was another.

I will still love him regardless of who he loves. He’s my son. Nothing will change that.

   "Logan?" Virgil's voice was suddenly small and quiet, and Logan peered over his glasses in confusion by his sudden change in demeanour. "Can I... Can I hug you? Again."

Though initially taken aback, Logan nodded and closed the gap between them; Virgil dropping his bag strap as he wrapped his arms around Logan’s torso. Their heights weren’t close, so Logan lowered himself slightly to allow Virgil’s head to rest comfortably on his shoulder. The hug was different from what Logan had previously experienced. Not awkward and full of sadness like before. Not dainty like his past girlfriends. It was hardly snuggly like with Patton and nothing like Jason. Jason had been a rock. Firm and supportive. Virgil was... Sturdy and soft. Like he would hold him up but could also crumble at any moment.

   The instant Logan’s arms embraced Virgil, he felt safer. The negative voices were silenced and all he heard was the voice of his grandparents. Supportive, accepting and kind. It felt right and for that time, he felt truly safe.

The sound of Logan's phone broke the peace of the moment and Virgil quickly drew back; not wanting to keep the man from checking it. With a sigh, Logan looked at the message on his phone and then back to Virgil.

"I need to go into work for a bit; Maggie isn’t well. I'm sorry, Virgil. This was meant to just be a nice lunch and I-"

"Thank you, Logan."

"What?"

"I think. I think I really needed today."

"Oh. Well, you’re welcome, Virgil."

Lifting his bag back over his shoulder, Virgil smiled up at Logan. "I should get back to the library and do some work befo-"

He was cut off by his phone ringing; Logan noticed Ben's name lighting the screen and the way Virgil’s hands immediately began to tremble. "I've got to go."

"I just have to grab my uniform and I'll drive-"

"It's fine, Lo. I'll walk, I really need to go."

There was a significant shift in Virgil’s tone and demeanour that had Logan very concerned about the message he’d seen earlier.

"Virgil? What’s wrong?"

“Nothing. I’ll catch you later, Lo.”

The door accidentally slammed shut as Virgil rushed out, swiping the screen to answer Ben’s incoming call; leaving Logan alone with seeds of worry taking root in his stomach.

   *************************

    "Bless you." Patton maintained a smile as he offered the tissue box to the student that had just covered their worksheet in a spray of saliva. "Cover your mouth next time, please."

"Yes, Mr Smiles."

Ignoring spit and snot was all part of the job in Patton's eyes as he continued to read the questions on the slightly soggy sheet. Working with children was something Patton had known he wanted to do since he was in middle school. It was one part wanting to encourage creativity and another part wanting to be better than some of the teachers he had had. The volunteering he did at the moment did nothing for his bank account, but Patton found he was learning a lot more in those few hours he could manage in a classroom compared to the hours spent on campus.

   As the final bell rang, the small group farewelled Patton with hugs before racing out the door and, after bidding the supervising teacher farewell, he soon followed behind. Despite being eager to leave, Patton did make the effort to stop by the staff bathroom and smother his hands in disinfectant; knowing how crippling a cold was for Roman in more ways than one. Leaving the bathroom, the school echoed with the students' yelling and laughter as they flooded the sidewalks to begin their journey home. When Patton finally exited the building, he found himself quickly dodging the kids to reach the man leaning against a tree to the side. Pocketing his phone, Roman looked up just as Patton wrapped their arms around his neck; teasing him with a kiss.

"I come to pick you up and all I get is a lousy kiss on the cheek." Roman pouted.

"There are children present, Ro, and I don't see your valiant steed anywhere to take me away." There was a wicked gleam in Roman's eyes at Patton's words that made him giggle in anticipation. "Unless you've got your car hidden nearby?"

"My car wasn't coming anywhere near these little door bangers." The comment got an eye roll in response, but Roman stepped back and grinned regardless. "However, I will still be picking you up." "Oh no, no, no." Red bloomed on Patton's cheeks as he realised his partners plans. "I can't do that here, Ro." "Why not? It's just a piggyback, Pat. No one will even notice if you don't screech like a banshee. Now hop on."

Patton glanced around nervously as Roman turned and braced himself for him to jump on. Part of him knew it wasn’t professional to behave in such a manner; however, his inner child could not be denied for long and Patton was soon on Roman’s back. Ignoring the few looks of distaste, Roman strode down the path as Patton recalled his day happily in his ear.

  It wasn’t long before Patton noticed the change in Roman’s pace; tiring from early morning rehearsals and a shift at work. Knowing he would never admit to his aching muscles, Patton turned his head to whisper towards Roman’s ear.

“Time to put me down, dear prince.”

“What are you talking about?” Roman huffed, shifting his arms to rebalance the weight on his back. “I could do this all the way home.”

“I know you think you can, but you shouldn’t.” Patton said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Now, put me down, please.”

It took a bit of wriggling on Patton’s part, but eventually Roman admitted defeat and let the man down. Standing beneath a tree, Patton shook his head as he watched his partner run through a series of stretches.

“Maybe it isn’t a good idea to do stuff like that anymore, Ro. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Are you implying that I am too old to give piggyback rides?”

“No,” Patton fidgeted with the hem of his shirt as he spoke; feeling guilty as Roman continued to stretch. “But I am. And I know I haven’t kept as fit as Logan sinc-“

“Don’t you dare go there, Patton.”

  The use of his name in such a serious tone, had Patton gluing his gaze to the ground. Roman was no stranger to his partners train of thought, and they were about to jump onto a negative track he didn’t want them travelling down.

“Age is but a number and you know how I feel about body image.” Straightening, Roman reached out to lift Patton’s chin and make them meet his soft brown eyes. “I want to carry you around until we’re old and grey.”

“And even then, you will probably still try.”

“You bet I will, because I just love the way it makes you smile.”

Dropping his eyes, Patton smiled as he pictured an elderly Roman trying to lift him from a wheelchair. His thoughts were pulled back as warm lips connected with his own. Lifting his arms to wrap them around Roman’s neck, Patton lent into the kiss and allowed himself to get lost as they automatically responded to each other’s movements.

  The serenity of chirping birds was broken by rolling wheels clacking on concrete and children’s laughter was carried through the air. As the noise came closer, a smile pulled Patton’s lips away and he pressed his forehead on Roman’s; breathing deeply as he watched his partners eyes shift behind closed lids.

“I can feel you staring.” A wicked smile spread across Roman’s face and one eye slid open slightly. “You like what you see?”

“Not really,” eyes snapped open as Patton lent back with his own mischievous look, “I’d prefer to see it with a hint of powdered sugar.”

With a wink, Roman knew exactly what Patton was insinuating; they had baking to do.

“What are we waiting for? We have some sugar to acquire!”

Grabbing his partners hand, Roman practically dragged him down the path in excitement; quickly overtaking the group of children that had just past them.

    ****************

    As the afternoon began its shift into evening, the meeting members each prepared themselves for the emotional catch up ahead. Ethan finished boxing up mixed sliders for the group just as Roman messaged that he was parked around the side of the diner. The couple had changed clothes following a messy baking session at Roman’s house; kitchen quickly wiped clean to hide their shenanigans from Katie. The sugar scent from the cookies filled Roman’s car and was soon mixed with the diner’s aroma as Ethan climbed inside. Keeping their greetings brief, the music was turned up as the group made their way to the library.

    Collecting a cooler bag from the passenger seat, Logan locked his car and headed into the library through the back door. He was surprised to find Katie alone and setting up a picnic rug in the middle of the reading area.

“Hey Katie. Where’s Virgil? I thought he was helping you set up?”

“I was going to ask you about that.” Katie said as she straightened and followed Logan towards the kitchen area. “He called and said he had a friend to visit and he’d do the clean in the morning instead. But, I’m not sure about that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Something was off.”

Logan placed bottles of drink in the fridge and looked over to Katie’s thoughtfully knotted brow.

“How so?”

“Something in the way he spoke. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but something definitely wasn’t right. Did everything go okay with you two today?”

“Well… it didn’t go bad.” Sliding the leftovers he had forgotten to give Virgil into the freezer, Logan turned and shrugged at the woman behind him. “There were some… low points. But, otherwise, it was a rewarding experience.”

It didn’t feel right to disclose all that had occurred, and he didn’t see any reason to share the private message he’d seen. Katie didn’t seem convinced and Logan sighed as he took out his phone.

“If you give me his number, I can send him a message and check in.”

“Thought you would have exchanged numbers by now.” She commented, setting her phone to send Logan the contact information he needed.

“I’m not going to feed your little fantasy and respond to that comment.” Logan smiled and sat on a nearby chair to type out a message. “Why don’t you go finish shutting up the front of the library and I’ll set up back here.”

“Sure, Lo. I’ll give you and your phone some privacy then, shall I?” With a wink, Katie headed towards the libraries front to lock up and shut the main computer down for the evening.

Alone at the back, Logan typed out a brief message and waited patiently for a reply.

  Logan: Hi Virgil, this is Logan. Thank you again for your assistance today. It was very much appreciated. In our rush this afternoon, I forgot to pass on some additional payment for you. Could we possibly meet at the library tomorrow for me to exchange it?

Virgil: let it go Logan. I don’t need anything else from you.

  Logan was unsure of how to interpret the tone of Virgil’s message. There were multiple ways he was able to hear it in his mind. Left to dwell he would have fixated on the negative connotations, but Patton, Roman and Ethan’s entrance pulled him away. Sliding the phone into his pocket, Logan shifted his focus to the friends he had in his company. An overdue meeting was ready to occur.

____________________

End Note

Wow, it has been over a month since I updated. Jeepers that’s a bit of a wait. Sorry about that. It may be a similar thing for the next chapter because my idea of updating fortnightly just hasn’t worked out in the long run. Too much untamed creativity and not enough time.

 I have mixed feelings about this chapter. I love my analogical, but the royality just isn’t flowing for me at the moment. Not quite sure why.

 Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter and the art by @the-pastel-peach. Now you can get a bit of an idea of how I see Jason. The red streaks were my way of connecting him to Roman (red, Roman, fire – it all relates). I think that might do for commissions for this for now though. I haven’t really got any scenes that stick in my brain (even though I would love to see E and Katie). Don’t forget to like and share Peach’s post if you enjoyed their artwork. Please don’t repost the art yourself, only share posts by Peach or myself.

 Thanks again for reading. Happy timezone, friend 💜🐌

Tag List (let me know if you want to be removed)

@notalwaysthebadguy​      @thequeensphinx​    @ollyollyoxinfree​   @celeste-tyrrell​     @pumpkinminette​    

_____________________________

Chapter 11   — MasterList

What else have I done:

The Perfect Ring (oneshot - analogical proposal)

You Promised (oneshot - prinxiety angst/injury/near death)

Sides of a Hero (Completed Fic - sides are fusions of impulses and aspects of Thomas. Virgil has a depressing past that he is forced to face thanks to Deceit and Rage. Was canon compliant at the time of completion)

The Shield to your Sword (WIP - A fantasy/magic au - Prinxiety (Royal Roman and orphan Virgil - they’ll admit to their love eventually), Virgil angst, non binary, healer Logan, *spoiler* Patton)

Writing Master Post

Check out my other blog for random fandom reblogs and stuff @snail-giggles​

#libraries are for meetings #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides au #alternate universe #fanfiction #ts fanfiction #ts fanart #sanders sides fanart #fanart #logan sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #ts logan #ts virgil #ts patton #ts roman #analogical #royality #platonic logicality #death mention tw #homophobia tw #negative thoughts #negative thinking tw #self discovery #tsart #my writing #snail writing

[romancandlemagazine]

An Interview with Wig Worland

If you walked into a WHSmiths during the 1990s, then chances are that you will have seen the high-calibre work of Wig Worland.

As a photographer at seminal skateboard magazines like R.A.D. and Sidewalk, his sharp eye helped capture a relatable world of British skating, a million miles away from sun-drenched California schoolyards.

First question - when did you start taking photos? Was there something that set you off with it?

I started in school when one of the better teachers realised I wasn't going anywhere academically and lent me her camera. I don't think there was anything else I could have done to be honest. I started to assist photographers straight out of school.

How did you end up doing skate photography? What was the camera set-up back then?  

I grew up near an adventure playground. One day in the early ‘80s a quarter pipe with 'Skatopia' written on it appeared there. We would ride our BMX bikes on it. A few weeks later a guy called Wurzel appeared - he literally dropped over the fence.

All of us, including Wurzel, rode bikes for a bit but as the world transformed around us we all got into skateboarding. One of my best friends at the time was London street skating legend Phil Chapman. He let me take pictures of him and I got better at it.

It’s funny how when you're young it just doesn't occur to you that those are the formative years, even though that’s what every older person is saying to you at the time.

My first camera was a Canon FTB with a 24mm lens - I couldn't afford a fisheye lens. I then wasted more time and energy on a 17mm lens. It was really terrible, but I did get my first picture published in RAD using it.

What was that?

A guy called Doc with a chuck on handrail at the bus station in Milton Keynes in an article in R.A.D. in 1990. In the same article came my second and third published picture. It was such a pivotal moment in my life but just like buses, three came along at once.  

Do you remember the first photo you took where you thought, “I’m getting quite good at this”?

Not any single shot, but I think when I got to shoot Manzoori or Channer or Wainwright, I was beginning to shoot people who were making great pictures all the time. The trips back and forth to the lab became less fuelled with anxiety and worry about what I was doing.

So something must have been going right, maybe I knew enough about the dark art of shooting on slide film that I could relax into it. A bit anyway.

The late 80s and early 90s are quite a while ago now. What are some things people forgot about that time?

There was no Instagram! There wasn't anywhere other than the monthly magazines (and of course books) to get any information about anything. It really is odd to say it now because we are all so used to finding anything out that we want to know immediately.

My sister has a theory that technology is making us all more stupid. We simply don't have to retain any information anymore. To get from place to place you don't even need a sense of direction, just flick on 'Waze' or whatever and it tells you where to go.    

How weird was it to be a skater or a rider in the late 80s? Obviously now skating is going through another 'cool wave', but how much stick did you get back then for it?  

We got so much hassle from everybody at the time. It’s ridiculous when you think about how 'cool' it all is now. We didn’t care at all though. We knew what we were doing was way more important than simply school or fashion or T.V. or whatever else our other friends or peers were into. We were involved in making something happen.  

R.A.D. was split fairly evenly between skating and riding. Was there much of a divide at the time? And what were your opinions on the other avenues of raditude?

I'll fully admit it; I went from BMX to skateboard. I was probably a little too young to catch the first wave of skateboarding in the UK. I was six or seven and my mum wouldn't let me have a board, though my best mate at the time had much older brothers so I can claim to have ridden a Logan Earth Ski in the 70s.

By the time BMX hit I was a little more in control of my life. I saved up my lunch money for an entire year so I could buy a Kuwahara ET. My friends and I had so much fun knocking about on those bikes in the 80s — it was amazing. Before I knew it I'd given up BMX 'racing’ and was getting more serious about BMX 'freestyle' (which really is an oxymoron when you stop to think about it).

Within a year or two I had switched to a GT Performer and I was entering freestyle 'contests' and wearing ever more dodgy clothing. Obviously we didn't know it at the time but they really were the formative years of my life.

A good friend from that time, Lee Reynolds moved to California and went on to become a very successful freestyle pro rider with Haro. Back then we all hung out at Mons ramp like one big happy family, and that’s where I started to meet more people.

As BMX started to die, I just moved my attention to skateboarding. There was just so much to get into. You can do way more stuff with a skateboard than a bike! Sorry to the entire BMX community.  

What were you looking at for inspiration back then? Even your early photos had a definite style.

I was looking at BMX Action and BMX Plus from America that would appear periodically in the newsagents near my school. Then Freestylin' and Transworld, and Thrasher when I could find it. Back then Thrasher wasn't quite so appealing — it was half a music magazine with really cheap paper, and was scrappy compared to glossier titles of the day. It’s amazing how Thrasher has outlasted them all.  

I loved Spike and Windy, and, obviously J Grant Britain, but I also really love TLB's pictures. He really was an amazing complete photographer - properly trained and much better than me. Now I have had a chance to see the stuff in the RAD archive, I can't begin to say how amazing it is. It might not have looked all that good in the mag but that was because of the awful print quality. When the book comes out you’ll see what I mean.

R.A.D. faded into the shortly-lived Phat in the early 90s. How did Sidewalk come about?

Andy Horsely and I were doing a magazine called The System during the last days of TLB R.A.D. When R.A.D. was sold to yet another publisher that was out of town, Tim didn’t want to leave London. He thought it was a dead end. By a series of strange occurrences Andy Horsely and I managed to get ourselves in the door at R.A.D. There’s a bit more to this story, but the full version will be in the book hopefully.  

Whereas early skate magazines had their fair share of day-glo high-top fashions and boned-out, high-zoot grabs, Sidewalk had a much more British look. Was this intentional? Or was this just a reflection of the times?

It was absolutely intentional. We wanted it to look like a British skate magazine, and perhaps naively, we wanted it to feature all British people, in Britain. The US skate magazine culture was, and still is, so dominant, but we wanted to showcase the UK.

At the time the world was beginning to see Rowley, Penny and Wainwright but we knew there was so much more. Making an all-British magazine was way more difficult than any of us imagined and I'm not sure how sustainable that idea was (and still is). We tried our very best given the resources we had.

Was there things you wouldn't photograph - maybe dodgy outfits or questionable moves?

We had an unspoken ban on the Benihana at Sidewalk. Ha! I wonder if anyone else would admit to that. Everything else was totally fine. We even put Dan Cates in the mag with all his craziness for heaven’s sake!  

The mid-90s seemed like the real glory days of magazines. They were thick, they came out once a month, they had all sorts of mad stuff in them… and they could all be bought from WHSmiths for a few quid. Why do you reckon there were so many good mags around at this time?

It was really the only way to communicate before the internet really took a grip. Nowadays, you put your tricks up on Instagram and let the world judge you. Back then, we shot the photo, we took it to the lab, and then it was sent off to be printed in cyan, magenta, yellow and black on paper.  

After a lot of fuss and bother, the magazine hit the shelves and the rest of the world could see the moments that I had had all to myself. It really was an incredible moment. I'm not sure I'd go back to it though! It was pretty insular and created some difficult politics. It's probably a bit more democratic now. If you don't like what somebody is doing, you 'unfollow' them and that's that.  

What was a typical day like back in the early Sidewalk days? Was there a typical day?

Probably wake up late and head to the office via the lab, to pick up the film from the previous day. Maybe pet the dog when I got there for a bit. Horse would invariably arrive later than me and we'd get lunch. After looking through some pictures on the light table I'd head out to shoot skaters in various parts of the country.

One day I'd be in Hull, the next in Birmingham and the next in London. It was a pretty insane schedule to be honest.

I’ve said this before in other interviews but I’ll say it again, I hated driving up and down the motorway system in the UK, but I loved the people I met along the way. I really don’t think there was anyone that I didn’t like — it was incredible. A good example of this is driving to Hull, which is a really long way from anywhere. But when I got there, there was Eggy and Banksy and Scott. Amazing people.  

This might be a bit of a camera tech guy question… but imagine I’m stood at the top of that flatbank hip at Radlands and a young Tom Penny is cruising towards me… how do I capture the action? Should I pan? Is my flash mounted on the top of my camera… or on a cable… or on a stand? What film should I use?

If you're at a comp it's best that your flash is mounted on your camera, because if you’re trying to be clever like I was in the 90s trying to use an off-camera flash on a lead (Windy Osborn/Spike Jonze style) you're going to miss a lot of shots. Yes, always pan with the subject if you can, it's just better and I'd use whatever film you can afford. It’s really expensive and you only have 36 to 39 shots depending on how clever, or stupid, your camera is.

If it’s not contest day then spend a little longer on your lighting. But not so long that you forget to shoot the scene, the look of the place and the informal portraits of the skaters. You’ll regret that later on if you don’t shoot that stuff. Ahem…

Sidewalk did a very good job of making some fairly drab looking spots pretty good. That photo of a lad named Cookie gapping from a Carpet Right car park in the rain comes to mind… something like that could easily look pretty depressing in lesser hands. What were your tricks for making these fairly everyday places look decent?

Bring your own sun — a portable flash. Oh, and a little jiggery pokery with the slide film we were using as well. Also, know what you’re doing, and how the film is going to react to the light. Photography is all about various kinds of lies to create the shot you want.

I’m glad you remembered that Cookie shot because it is pretty special. He was such an amazing, positive person. Never mind my photograph, but how did a person stay positive when you had such terrible conditions to skate in! It’s not exactly California.

Pretty much sums up how we should all approach life, the Cookie story...

I don’t know if I’m looking into this too much, but a lot of the Sidewalk stuff celebrated British culture rather than disguise it. I’m not sure where I’m going with this question, but do you think it’s important that people embrace their situation, rather than endlessly dream of California?  

My entire life’s philosophy is to draw out what you can from the place where you are, rather than dreaming that somewhere else has the answer. This ridiculous dreaming is the reason that the air is so polluted these days with people crossing the world on long haul flights to wherever and with people driving from perfectly fine A, to almost certainly nearly the same B.

Of course all this is fine for me to say, I don’t have a car but I live in London where there is a brilliantly sophisticated Public transport system. I grew up in Milton Keynes so it wasn’t a shock to get to California and see the state they’re in, but I truly believe the car has ruined a lot. Not least for our children who can no longer play in the streets primarily because of the number of vehicles on the road. Rant over.  

Haha fair enough. What were some of the hassles of making a magazine back then? Any camera mishaps or blatant errors come to mind?  

Radio slaves were terrible but they still are. That’s the nature of radio waves in a very wet country. There was some dodgy kit but you could usually spot it pretty quickly and pass it on. I did have all my cameras stolen from the boot of my car once which did feel like the end of the world at the time. Grant  Brittain  very  kindly  sent  me  one  of  his  old  cameras  and  a  fish  eye  to  start  me  off  again  and  Pete  Hellicar  rang  round  all  the  big  names  in  the  industry  in  the  UK  asking  for  donations  to  get  me  started  again. Really  kind,  amazing  people.  

The problems were always with the printers or repro people. Handing over your precious photographs and layouts to people who aren’t as invested in the project shall we say. Having said that, there weren’t that many problems, only ever issues that the editor or I would notice.  

I’d say skate photography fits under the documentary category, but how far would you go to get a better photo? I know moving the occasional rucksack out of shot is fairly commonplace, but I’ve heard stories of photographers carrying around brighter clothes for people to wear so they stand out more.

There are a few skaters who would bring their own brighter clothes for the shoot. Have a look through my shots and see if you can guess who they are for a fun game. I think this is brilliant.

I don't think that skateboard photography is documentary at all. It’s a collaboration between the skateboarder and the photographer to produce the best image they possibly can.

What about the days when nothing happened? Surely there must have been a few afternoons when no one was feeling it, or did the fact you had a big camera bag egg people on a bit? It rains a lot in Britain, I'm sure you've noticed. On those days, if you were lucky, we'd sit about in the local Skateshop. If we were less lucky we'd get caught at the local indoor skate park and wait for the rain to stop. I remember thinking then that I would never get that time back, now of course if I had that time back I would do just the same thing. Amazing days. I'm sure people did feel motivated by having a magazine photographer in town to shoot pictures of them yes, but that just makes me wonder what it's like now? You can literally shoot a picture whenever you like and upload it anywhere.

Do you think these advances in technology have improved skate photography or not?

I would have killed for a digital camera back when I was shooting skateboarding every day. I’d not only have been able to see what I had in terms of stills, but shooting sequences would have had a lot less pressure involved as well. A couple of people have said that seeing the used rolls of bails lining up on the stairs or pavement beside me gave them extra incentive to land the trick, but it made for some pretty heated sessions.

The Chris Oliver kickflip off a bus stop into bank with another drop springs to mind. Fair play to the ginger genius though, he bloody landed it, and he can say he did it on film as well. So, so sick.

Did you enjoy doing sequence shots or was it just a case of documenting the new tech?

I wasn't really interested in shooting sequences to be honest, I always thought that was the job of the video camera. In some ways I wish I stuck with that attitude and concentrated on the style of the skater rather than the high tech that they could put down. I think that would have made for a more interesting back catalogue.  

This is maybe another fairly camera-orientated question, but I’m interested, so the casual readers will have to suffer… you were maybe one of the first skate photographers to push the studio-lighting style out into the real world. What led to this development?

Ollie Barton thinks I was the first to do the studio on the street thing. I guess other people had tried using flash slaves off camera before, but I made it my own. I was the first out there with portable studio flash which had more spread of light than the dedicated flashes made by camera manufactures. I'm sure I was responsible for keeping the Lumedyne brand going for a while. Lumedyne really are the most terrible looking lights that have ever come to market, made from bits bought from Maplin or Radio Shack, but they worked quite well and everybody had them in the early 2000s.

Did setting up multiple flashes in ropey areas ever become a problem?

It's funny you know, I never felt odd about setting up lighting anywhere. If you’re prepared to pop a light out on a dodgy estate then you’re serious about getting something done. I think most people whoever they are respect that, some are even interested in it.

There were a few hairy moments — like a car taking out a light in downtown Stockport while shooting late at night. But the light was in the middle of the street, so that one was on me. Nobody ever picked one up and legged it. Not once, but as I said they don't look expensive so maybe that was enough.  

Maybe a bit of an obvious question, but do you have a favourite photograph you’ve taken? And are there any photos which you wish you took?

As I rather flippantly alluded to earlier, I don’t feel I shot anywhere near enough incidental stuff. I was too interested in making the lighting right to capture the trick perfectly. If I could go back I’d have a point and shoot with me at all times and I’d use it constantly.  

I don’t have a favourite photograph. There are just too many, of so many amazing friends and brilliant talented people. I couldn’t pick one above all others.    

Today it’s easier than ever to take a photograph. Is this good or bad? Has the advent of phone-based camera gadgetry devalued the art (or at least the science) of photography?

No, it hasn't devalued it. Because more people have cameras, more people are interested in photography. If you want to lug around a huge old school view camera to shoot pictures then there are sub-genres of sub-cultures that can more easily facilitate that stuff nowadays. Of course more people think they can do it, but it's still the case that only some people do it well.  

Have you got any wise-words you’d like to add?

No, just enjoy life as best you can. We’re not all going to be famous or millionaires, so don’t believe anyone when they tell you to follow your dreams — real life might conspire to not let you get there. Life just happens to most people.

#Interviews #photography #sidewalk #wig worland #skateboarding #skate

[chrysolina]

Clinging to you

Asks - Hiii! How’re u? I was wondering if you could do an imagine where the reader is dating cevans, and over hears I’m saying that she’s too clingy and he might break up with her? Then she avoids him for days. And the reason she’s clingy is bc she thinks she’s going to lose him? But chris didn’t know that and realizes how much he misses and loves her? Love ur page btw seriously - anon

Hiii! Can you do a fic with cevans x girl reader. She overheard him saying that she’s too clingy and sometimes he just wants to be alone and is thinking abt breaking up w her and so she ignores him for days but he doesn’t know why but they get into a fight about it after ? Basically angst to fluff? -

Thank you both for this amazing ask!! Here it is, hope you enjoy 💕

Summary - Chris is getting tired - tired of your clinginess to him. So much so, he wants to end your five year relationship - but how can you with a massive obstacle soon to be in the way?

Word count - 2.6k

Warnings - angst, swearing, fluff, mention of sex

M A S T E R L I S T

Photoshoots, Chris hated them. As much as he was a kind soul and wasn’t one to complain, he wasn’t having any of it today. A humid, gripping air hung around LA the whole day and the studio was no different, the air-con was trying it’s best to cool everyone but with the recent heatwave that had just passed, it just wasn’t enough.

Ever since he was a baby, Chris never liked the heat - period - it still made him as cranky, snappy and generally frustrated at the most mundane or innocent of things even now, thirty six years later.

Through all the hair styling, outfit changes, prop swapping, flashes and clicks of the camera, he was continuously keeping his cool - until you, literally, stepped through the door of the studio. He didn’t understand why but as of late, you had been rather clingy with him - far too clingy, if Chris had further words for it.

He hadn’t dared to say it to you yet but your incessant clinginess only made him want to tear away from you and call it quits. He was a lone spirit, an independent one at that and he just couldn’t stand the cramped feeling you gave him whilst you were around him.

You smiled, waved and said hi to him whilst the hairdressers were sorting his hair, like most would, you expected him to smile back and either tell you to come see him or say hey back but no, Chris just glared daggers into you, making your happy go-lucky smile drop in an instant. You didn’t digress too much over it however, you shrugged it off and went off to the lunchtime buffet that had just opened on the other side of the studio.

After a while, things weren’t adding up. The head photographer had called it time for lunch just over twenty minutes ago and Chris hadn’t showed up. With a huff, you asked his and your manager if he knew where he went, to which he replied ‘I think he went to his dressing room darling’, you thanked him and paced quickly to Chris’ room.

Halfway through your walk, a god-awful gut feeling stabbed your insides like a katana ‘what if he doesn’t want to see me? What if he’s mad at me?’ You shrugged off the thoughts, clenched your now incredibly valuable handbag closer to you and kept walking.

The dressing rooms were deadly silent bar your heeled sandals clicking on the tiled floor, a cool air whipped past your neck and made you hold your body whilst it shivered. Although it was from afar, you could hear Chris’ voice bellow through his dressing room and seep out of the flimsy door and its gaps, making you puzzle at the anger in his voice.

You didn’t want to knock the door and ask how he was, as bad as it was you wanted to listen to what on Earth had got him so riled up and moreover, who he was talking to.

As best as you could, you stayed pressed against the wall next to his door and steadied your breathing so you could hear what he had to say. “You have no clue how fucking ridiculous she’s being right now man,” who was he on about? “She’s driving me fucking insane with her constant fucking neediness!” He wasn’t talking about you..was he?

“Chris I’m sure it’s just a phase,” you knew who’s voice that was on the speakerphone, Scott. “Y/N’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you. Believe me when I say that bro,” wait...was Chris venting about you? Neediness? Your head began to spin with all the accusations.

“More like the worst thing to happen to me.” You could almost visualise Chris’ face when he said that about you. Unbeknownst to you, tears began to cascade down your cheeks freely at the painful words that Chris kept spewing out about you. “She really does make me want to run to the fucking hills Scott.”

“You don’t mean that Chris.”

“The fuck I do, Y/N’s just become too much for me and I can’t stick it anymore...how much will mom and dad hate me if I came back home without Y/N?” No, he wasn’t thinking about this now, of all the times right now he was choosing to do this now?

Before you actually let out a sob, you bolted straight out of there and straight to the ladies toilets to basically bawl your eyes out. You sat on the toilet seat and looked at the pristine photo that sat in your bag, waiting to be shown to the world and more importantly, to Chris; you couldn’t bare to look at the image after hearing what he had to say about you - his fiancée, his supposed ‘rock’, his ‘everything’ - was it all a lie?

After a twenty minute cry alone in the full toilets, you cleaned yourself up, refreshed your makeup and wandered out to an awaiting Chris and your manager. To your disgust, Chris smiled at you like as if you had come back to life from the grave and went to go and hug you but you ducked away from him with a coldness you never thought you’d have.

“Right then Y/N, are you ready?” Your manger asked you kindly, you were to feature in the magazine shoot alongside Chris - due to your own stardom - in some very pleasing photos.

“Actually, can I reschedule it for another day?” You smiled sadly at him and watched out the corner of eye Chris’ brows furrowing in question.

“I think I must’ve eaten something disagreeable and I kinda threw up in the toilet just now,” you partly lied clean through your teeth and smiled weakly at your manager, your colourless parlour catching his eye.

He was the first to know about your recent stomach bug that had lingered in you for the longest while now and was quick to understand your position right now, being sick in this heat must be awful.

“Of course, how about I bargain for this Friday? It’ll give a bit of time then,” he smiled and ignored Chris head moving from you to his manager a flurried way. Three days to get well again and do the appropriate precautions, a squeeze but perfect.

“Wonderful, thank you so so much Charles.” You sighed, waved your goodbyes to everyone bar Chris and paced off to your car in the parking lot.

Without notice, a large hand caught your forearm and pulled you back a step of two. “Where’re you going Y/N/N?” Chris partially snapped at you and tried to look you deep in the eye but the facade you put on prevented him from doing so.

“I’m going home Chris,” You snapped and yanked your hand out of his vice-like grip with such a strength, it made him look twice. Chris panicked, he needed to talk to you and ask you where you were going.

As quick as he could, his hand caught yours and held you still. “Why? Y/N what’s going on?” Chris whined and pleaded to you like a child who wanted his favourite candy. You clicked your teeth and yanked your hand away again, this time taking a step away for precautions sake and kept your handbag close to you.

“Nothing that’d concerns you.” You snapped furiously and steamed away to your car around the back of the studio, your hand holding the side of your stomach protectively.

What a mess the supposed best day of your life had turned out to be.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Instead of holing yourself up for the rest of the afternoon and evening, you chose to be as productive as possible with your free time before Chris came back home to your shared LA home.

You out all your clothes in suit protectors int he wardrobe and kept everything neatly together in case the worst came to be tonight, you cleaned the house, baked a chocolate cake for all times sake, took Dodger for a walk around the local trail and emptied your valuables from your shared safe in your dresser.

By the time the photo shoot was finished and they were packing away, you were all set for the worst and was calmly watching the evening lights flicker in the distance, your feet dangling peacefully in the pool, Dodger laying next to you and your phone.

Like the devil’s calling, you could hear the said actor’s car pulling into the driveway, the engine stop and the door slam shut with a loud slam that jolted Dodger out of his dazed slumber. Before Dodger could get up and run to see Chris, he had already come through the door and likewise, slammed it shut with a fury that made you sick to stomach.

“Y’know you can sometimes be a real bitch Y/N Y/L/N!” Chris yelled and echoed through the entire house, his footing more like stomps as he neared your form by the pool. Dodger jumped out of the way and paced back in the house, as if he already knew to leave his parents alone.

“It’s part of my speciality.” You deadpanned and kept your head forward, refusing to look at Chris who stood beside you.

“Sixteen times Y/N, sixteen times I called and you never answered. Lord knows how many times I text you.” Chris ranted and raved and paced back and forth behind you. You didn’t budge though, you just stared off into the distance holding your tongue from saying something real bad.

“Look who’s being the clingy one now, Christopher.” You chided with a dead-like face and smiled internally once the pacing stopped and you could feel Chris’ eyes on your head. Chris’ heart dropped mike and miles at your words and immediately thought back to the heated conversation he had with Scott earlier.

He couldn’t articulate any words and only looked at you stunned. “No words now, hm? You seemed to have plenty earlier, didn’t you Christopher?” This time your urned to look him dead in the eye with a glare that could easily freeze over hell and its counterparts.

Slowly, you rose to your feet and stood only a few inches away from Chris’ sullen form, eyeing him up as of you were going to murder him.

‘How did you hear...” Chris trailed off and let his mouth go slack at the sight of you, red eyed and pale as a dead person - he did this to you, he knew it.

You scoffed at the Bostonian as if he had said something utterly ridiculous. “C’mon Chris, anyone at leat ten foot away could hear you slagging me off!” You snapped and pushed past him back into the house, your feet getting especially wet.

“I wasn’t slagging you off!” Chris suddenly shouted from the patio doors, making you stop dead in your tracks.

“Weren’t you? Cause it sure fucking sounded like that Chris.” You snapped him off again and began to walk to the staircase.

“I had every right to do so Y/N!” Chris’ voice echoed around the house and made you stop again, this time with tears rolling down your cheeks.

“You’ve been so clingy and up in my business lately, it’s driving me fucking insane. ‘Oh Chris help me here. Chris can I come with you here. Can I come with you there. Can you tell me this, that and the other. Come with me here Chris. Do this Chris. Do that Chris.’ Do you get what I’m saying Y/N?” Chris yelled at you shaking form and didn’t let up, not like he saw your shaking anyways.

“You’re clingy Y/N, admit you did wrong and apologise.” Chris demanded and it made your blood boil in rage. Apologise? Apologise for being unwell? Apologise for being pregnant with his child? Your stubbornness wouldn’t allow it.

Instead of doing the usuals yell at each other gimmick, you turned around and sulked towards him as if you were sorry, as if you had a lot to apologise for. Chris’ cold glare never left you whilst you stood before him, your eyes plastered to the floor. “Tomorrow is coming Y/N. Anything would do.”

Without any second thought, you stood straight and slapped him straight across the face, sending him stumbling back a step or two. “Give me a fucking break Evans! Five years we’ve been together and you were willing to throw it all under the bus and run away just because I’ve been a little clingy lately?” You screeched at him, not daring to hold back.

“I hope you’ve got a big heart because I’ve fucking over this bullshit. You wanna throw away us, fine but just remember, you’ll also be throwing away a possible son or daughter too.” Your voice broke into a sob near the end of your speech. You couldn’t stand it anymore, to stand here in his presence was making you feel light on your feet in the worst possible way.

You didn’t bother to look back at Chris and bolted for the stairs, cradling your small bump and holding your head in the process. Your ran to your once-shared bedroom and shut the door tight, your legs giving away and crumbling from beneath you once your back hit the thick wood.

It could’ve been minutes or hours later, you felt yourself being hoisted off the floor bridal style and placed gently on your bed. Your eyes fluttered at the sudden feeling of wet salty lips on your own, you didn’t know what to do; reciprocate the kiss or leave it?

Reciprocate or leave?

No matter how cumbersome his words were on your mind, Chris was your one love, your fiancé, your everything and you couldn’t imagine anyone else filling that role; ever.

Just before he was going to pull away, your smaller hands flew to his bearded cheeks and pulled him back down to kiss you like never before. It was a kiss that neither of you had ever shared before, it was so powerful, so loving and so apologetic you couldn’t help but allow Chris’ frame to slide in between your legs and his arms circle around you like a warm blanket.

Once you opened your eyes, you were met with the face of a scared, broken and elated Chris who looked like he had been slapped square in the face with - oh wait, he had.

You tentatively touched the bright red area and watched him wince at the touch, much to your horror. “What did I do to you..” you mumbled in a breath and rubbed his other cold, wet cheek with your thumb.

“No baby, what did I do to you?” Chris’ forehead leant against yours lovingly and stared into you Y/E/C eyes longingly.

“Where shall I start?” You tried to lighten the mood with your joke but it seemed to be taken the other way once Chris’ lips met yours again in a steamy, passionate kiss.

“Let me make it up to you Y/N...” Chris sighed into your mouth, hooked one of your legs around his hips and ground his forming erection softly against your core, giving you the precise idea he had.

“So long as you don’t go a-wall on us again, then yes. Love me, Chris.” You sighed at the motion down below and slowly under the belt of Chris’ jeans.

Tags - @patzammit

A/N: if anyone’s up for it, I’m thinking of doing a small smut following this watery ass ending lol. If anyone’s interested ofc * (:

*A/N: since school stuff has got mega crazy all of a sudden I may put a future smut off until I can get around to it!! So sorry everyone!! )):

#chris evans #steve rogers #captain america #marvel #steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans headcanon #chris evans fluff #chris evans x you #chris evans imagine #chris evans smut #chris evans x pregnant!reader #imagine steve rogers

[the-zodiacs-written-in-the-stars]

Writer’s Month Day 26: Wedding

Three years prior to the main-story, Rick and Lizzy go to New Orleans to attend her sister’s wedding.

“I think this is too early. Is this too early? This is too early.”

Lizzy smiled fondly and rolled her eyes at her boyfriend before she leaned in and kissed his cheek. He was behind the steering wheel, driving them to New Orleans. Ricky was truly adorable.

“We've been dating for a year. You met my parents already”, pointed Lizzy out. “And I have spent countless family dinners with your family by now. Don't be like this.”

“Your parents. But not your siblings”, muttered Rick with a frown.

“Because they're always all over the place”, huffed Lizzy dismissively. “Besides, you do know the woman of the hour. My sister insists on you being at her wedding, so you will be at her wedding.”

Rick grumbled though he did shut up. He did know Laureen personally and he also knew the groom – Doctor Charles Jones, their ME. Him and Mike regularly worked close with him. He was rather grumpy and tended to keep to himself mostly. Himself and the woman he loved.

“Besi—ides, you get a private tour of New Orleans from yours truly”, declared Lizzy.

She grinned at him and winked, making him sigh and nod.

~*~

Quanna Liddell was a bright woman, her smile was contagious as she pulled Rick into a hug. Her dreadlocks were put up in a high pony-tail, held up with a purple band that matched her dress. She was curvy in build, very different from Elizabeth and Laureen, both her daughters being more on the insanely tall, skinny side, something they may have inherited from their father Dean.

“It's so good to see you again!”, exclaimed Quanna with a smile.

Quanna and Dean had come to Los Angeles for Thanksgiving, spending it with Rick's family after Rick had invited them. With all their kids having moved out by now, they gladly took the invitation to spend their Thanksgiving with at least two of their kids; Doc and Laureen had happily come too (well, Laureen had, Doc had just glared. Until he had gotten to the pumpkin pie Rick's mom had made and Rick swore he had never seen the big grump this happy before in his life).

“You two are going to stay in Lizzy's old bedroom, if you don't mind”, offered Dean.

He smiled and patted Rick on the back. Dean was more the body-type of his daughters. Skinny tall with high cheek-bones. He was so easy going that seeing him always relaxed Rick. Which was a blessing; he had always been afraid of meeting a dad, like an actual over-protective dad type. Dean had just laughed and dismissed him when Rick had first met him and been dreadful of any threats. He had said he trusted his daughter's judgment and if she saw something in him, it must be there.

“Sounds perfect to me”, nodded Rick, relieved he got to share a room with his girlfriend.

“You haven't met our other children yet, have you?”, asked Dean. “Come on in.”

Rick nodded and followed Dean and Quanna inside. So far, from driving through the streets, he had to admit that he really liked this city. The visual of it was great. Inside the house, in what looked like a very lived-in living room (so many decorations – it reminded him of Lizzy and all the small figures and things she collected. Apparently, that ran in the family too), there were already four people. Rick frowned a little confused. He was under the impression that Lizzy and Laureen only had three siblings. He did another head-count. No. There were four.

“Guys!”, exclaimed Lizzy excitedly.

She ran up to them and hugged them one by one. Rick smiled as the tallest man got up to shake hands. “I'm Frank. Lizzy's older brother. And this is my wife Anabel. It's good to finally meet you. Lizzy talks a lot about you.”

Anabel lifted a hand and waved at him. Okay. Frank had moved away from New Orleans ten years ago with his wife, Rick remembered that Lizzy told him that. The second born, being the second one to move out but staying longer at home than Laureen who had moved out at twenty-two, as soon as she had enough money to go and try to live her dream in Los Angeles. That left the two youngest. Henry and Mary. Mary was twenty-one and studying art in... Europe. Somewhere. Rick couldn't remember. Henry was a musician, a singer and guitarist who constantly toured the states, playing at bars and living from day to day (Quanna had spent half of Thanksgiving complaining about that. She worried about her son. Rightfully so, Rick would probably have a meltdown too if he had a kid and that kid would be out there, traveling and living from day to day).

“Mh. Not bad”, commented Mary, her eyebrows raised as she looked at Rick.

She was shorter than her sisters but somehow still on the more lanky side, her hair put up in two knots, one on either side of her head. Henry next to her slowly pulled his headphones off when he noticed the new arrivals and also turned his full attention toward Rick.

“Not bad indeed”, agreed Henry with a grin. “Very pretty.”

“Guys. Stop flirting with my boyfriend, he's taken”, grunted Lizzy possessively.

“It's already late, you must be tired”, sighed Quanna concerned. “You want to go to bed, or eat something first? We did save you some dinner, you know.”

“Ma, I'd never say no to dad's cooking”, stated Lizzy seriously.

Rick grinned as he followed toward the kitchen. The entire family trailed after them too, because apparently late second dinner seemed very tempting. The whole time they ate, Henry and Mary bickered to the point of throwing food to which Dean chuckled and Quanna laughed. It... felt like home. It reminded Rick of family dinners with his own family. So many different personalities.

~*~

The next day was the day of the wedding. Rick had to admit that Laureen looked absolutely breathtaking in her white dress with the soft purple flowers decorating her cleavage and the lower end of the frilly dress. Her bridesmaids were her sisters Lizzy and Mary, as well as her best friend – Sunny Korrapati. Rick had seen Sunny a couple times at the hospital already when visiting injured victims or witnesses, she was one of the top surgeons in New York and, as the nickname suggested, an absolute sunshine personality. She had gone to med school with Charles and met his best friend through him. Now she was the maid of honor at Charles' wedding. That was cute. Rick couldn't wait to have his best friend as his best man at his own wedding. He side-eyed Lizzy and blushed a bit.

The ceremony was absolutely beautiful and the food afterward was delicious. Rick and Lizzy were sitting at the same table as the Liddell-family, of course. And aside from them were the maid of honor and the best man... who was a best woman, who was actually Rick's boss.

“Uhm. Captain Lacroix. Fancy seeing you here, ma'am”, grinned Rick awkwardly.

The captain looked unimpressed at him. “It's no secret Charles and I are close friends. But if you show anyone at the precinct photos of me in a dress, I will personally make you give speeding tickets for the rest of your career, Alfaro.”

“Yes, ma'am”, squeaked Rick and gulped hard.

The captain was really very scary and Rick was absolutely terrified of her on a good day. There was no way he was ever telling anyone about how pretty she could look with princess-curls and in a dress. He had ever only seen her in suits and with her hair up in a messy bun and a glare on her face that would only soften the tiniest bit after about five coffees in the morning.

“Amy, please stop threatening the guests”, requested Laureen with a sigh.

“Not when your guest is one of my punk officers”, grunted Amy sternly.

“But I thought he was a good one. Alfaro, you always talk highly of him”, offered Sunny.

She frowned confused as she sipped her champagne, while Amy growled. “That was a private conversation over Monopoly, Sunny. Respect the game night rules.”

“Game night? With the captain?”, whispered Rick doe-eyed.

“Of course”, grunted Doc and rolled his eyes. “You still don't get that she is my best friend. We're close. And me and my... wife... have regular game nights with our best friends.”

Rick nodded and looked from the darkly glaring Captain Lacroix to the grumpy Doc. Best friends. It figured. He could just picture them braiding each other's hair – well, Doc didn't have hair, but still. In all reality, the two probably spent lunch by sitting together and glaring intensely and that... was bonding. Still, the stark contrast between those two and Sunny and Laureen was incredible. Laureen was a pastel-colored pastry chef and bakery owner, while Sunny in her all pink outfit and with her bright smiles alone lit up the whole room. How... did those four fit together into one game-night...? Rick shook his head amused, before being pulled out of his chair by Lizzy.

“Dance with me instead of bugging people”, demanded Lizzy amused.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and immediately everything around them seemed forgotten as Rick got lost in her dark, warm eyes. Everything about this was surreal to him – he was so used to being the one with the family that welcomed everyone in that it was odd to be on the receiving end of such a thing, then seeing two people he was used to seeing at the workplace and with stern expressions both so... soft now (not that he'd ever call the captain that to her face, but in that dress, with that make-up and hair...? She looked soft)? A large part of him really wanted to get a picture of the captain so he could show it to Mike – he would understand why all of this was so baffling! And the idea of the captain and Doc playing Monopoly was just... out of this universe. Parallel universe maybe? Mh. Maybe they had crossed into one on their drive to New Orleans.

“I love your parents. And your siblings are awesome. And this city is... amazing”, hummed Rick. “I'm... glad you took me as your plus one, Lizabella.”

He smiled and leaned in to kiss her, earning a very pleased look from Lizzy. “Boy, you make for a yummy arm-candy of course did I take you with me. You think I want to show up single on my own sister's wedding? Especially on a count-down wedding like this.”

“Count-down wedding?”, echoed Rick confused.

“Frankie was the first to get married, much to no one's surprise. He had his whole life planned out in precise details. Getting married before he was 30 was one of them. Laureen took it slower, but still she is the firstborn so it figures she'd get married too at some point. See the math? Firstborn, second born... I'm the third born”, elaborated Lizzy with an eyeroll. “Oh, don't look like a startled deer I'm not proposing. But it still looks better to at least have a partner on a wedding.”

“And Mary and Henry?”, asked Rick curiously, looking over her shoulder at the youngest Liddells.

“Mary's too focused on her art-studies and the fact that she's all the way in Paris makes it easy to hide whatever she's got going on in her love-life”, replied Lizzy. “For all I know she could be in a committed relationship. She's never been a fan of relationship gossip. And Henry has a new boyfriend in every city he tours. His life-style doesn't necessarily help with long-term relationships. Besides, they will most definitely wait until I'm getting married before worrying about that.”

“You said not to worry, but I do start to pressured”, noted Rick lightly.

“I mean”, drawled Lizzy with a mischievous smile before she leaned in and kissed him slowly. “You are very cute. Steady income. Lovely family that seems to like me alright too. Keep playing your cards right and who knows where our relationship leads us, pretty boy.”

Rick grinned at that and pulled her some closer, close enough so he could kiss her again. Wedding plans were maybe a little too early, they really had only been dating for a year. But this was maybe the most intense relationship Rick ever had and if he was being honest with himself, the thought of Lizzy in a wedding dress was the opposite of scary for him.

#writersmonth2019 #Virgo: Elizabeth Liddell #The Earth: Ricardo Alfaro #Ship: Rizzy #Story: Written in the Stars #Project: Written in the Stars

[opalescentlibraa]

Perfectly Wrong: part 2

"You know I've known you 3 years, i know when you're not sharing something with me Cleo" her friend Natalie said. Cleo and her friends Thalia and Natalie were sitting in her hotel room, getting ready for the concert.

Cleo had spent the past 48 hours weighing whether she should tell her friends about her night with Shawn, which now seemed more like a dream. So far she hadn't said anything and it was killing her not telling anyone, but she worried they wouldn't believe her or they would just completely freak out. All Cleo wanted to do was gush to Natalie about how she had drinks with Shawn Mendes, and how he flirted with her all night, leaving her with a feeling like electricity running through her ever since that last touch. There was 2 hours before they had to leave for meet and greet, and Cleo couldn't hold it in any longer, she had to tell them so she could vent about how anxious she was to see him, what'll happen when she sees him, what he'll do. "Okay so i can't keep this any more and it's gonna sound crazy, but the other night i was downstairs in the bar and got a little tipsy and tripped backing into someone. But that someone was Shawn Mendes" she said barely breathing while rushing to get it out. Cleo felt like a weight was lifted off her shoulders, she could finally talk about it even if her friends were staring at her like she was crazy.

"Did you just say... Shawn Mendes, as in the singer we're seeing in less then two hours" Natalie looked at Cleo in disbelief.

Cleo got up from the bed, trying to figure out how to tell them what had happened because it felt as surreal to her as it would sound crazy to them. "I honestly don't even know how this happened, I honestly don't know if it was real it feels too good to be true. He flirted with me you guys and i have to see him today. maybe i should just give someone my meet and greet, he probably doesn't even remember me". Cleo was pacing the room, how could she see him? what would she say? "yeah hey we had drinks the other night and you seemed interested so we should definitely see where this goes" Cleo thought, reluctantly telling them about the night.

"Are you crazy?!" Natalia and Thalia shouted at the same time, both getting up. Natalie walked over to Cleo grabbing her by the shoulders to face her, "so you're saying hes staying at this hotel? baby you have to go to meet and greet! this is literally fate..... holy shit all those times joking about Shawn falling in love with you are coming true!" she squealed.

Cleo just shook her head, "he is not going to fall in love with me, It was probably just a one time thing just for fun, nothing serious."

"so then why wouldn't you go meet him? if it wasn't 'serious' then just roll with that, you told him your whole life story! conversation will come easy, you only have to talk for like 3 seconds. But Shawn doesn't come across as someone who would flirt with a girl for no reason, so i agree with Nat" Thalia said, walking to the mini fridge. "I think this calls for drinks, I mean it only makes sense since that's how you met your future husband" Thalia joked pushing a beer into Cleo's hand.

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An hour and a half later, plenty of arguing due to Thalia trying to convince Cleo to let her do her makeup and choose her outfit they were at the venue. Waiting in line Cleo kept fidgeting with her phone, she had no clue what was about to happen, what she would say or what to even expect. Thinking about the other night she couldn't help but smile, "i forgot to tell you guys about how i have an inside joke with him as well" she whispered not wanting anyone else to hear. "you know how i walked into him backwards well i continued doing that as a joke, and when i got out of the elevator he said that was our thing". Nat and Thalia both letting out squeals of excitement, leaving all eyes on them.

"We're just excited okay" Cleo said hating people stare at her.

They were a couple people away from their turn. Getting there late had unfortunately left them the last couple people in line. Nat trying to convince Cleo to go last, "cmon it will so surprise him and he'll be able to actually talk to you a bit longer because he won't be waiting for the next person, maybe you'll get his number" she said moving Cleo so she was behind her.

Cleo stood in line, both her friend's had gone in leaving her alone with her thoughts. It was only a 5 minute wait but god did those 5 minutes feel like an eternity, she felt like time was slowing down and it made her even more anxious. The longer it felt the more thoughts came to the surface creating more and more scenarios. She couldn't shake the possibility of her walking out of that room with his number, she had jokingly daydreamed about this happening not thinking it would actually happen, I mean the chances were basically non-existent. What are the chances you end up staying in the same hotel as a world famous singer. Her hands were sweating she was so nervous, wiping her hands on her jeans every couple seconds.

It came to be Cleo's turn, she had spent the last 5 minutes overthinking every possible scenario she hadn't even thought about how she has to actually think of a pose for the picture, or what she would even say. The security guard cleared his throat taking her out of her daydream "it's your turn"

Walking towards the curtain she stopped, Shawn would be standing there waiting, not realizing that she would be walking through.There was nothing she could do now, unless she just ran but that wasn't Cleo's style. Taking a deep breath she walked through the curtain and there he was standing with his back towards her, laughing about something with the photographer. It took her back to their night, how he had laughed at her stupid jokes that definitely weren't funny, how he would throw his head back like he was now. She smiled at the thought. "scuse' me but isn't this a meet and greet not a comedy club" she didn't know where this sarcastic reply came from nor the confidence but it reminded her about the first couple sentences they said to each other, full of sarcastic remarks.

Shawn froze in place, he would recognize that voice anywhere; the girl he couldn't get out of his mind, hoping he would run into her again and here she was. He was right she was a fan, the biggest grin appeared on his face, trying to dim it down as he turned around. "Oh i'd beg to differ, I tell some pretty stellar jokes if i say so myself" he said laughing, he couldn't hide his huge grin anymore. "I honestly think we should just do the Q&A where i just tell everyone all my jokes"

She couldn't contain the fits of laughter that left her mouth, bending over holding her stomach. Trying to contain her laughter she stood back up "i was about to say that's an awful idea but the amount you just made me laugh, maybe you're right". Both laughing, the photographer reminded them they had to take a picture hurrying them along.

Shawn walked over to Cleo and whispered "You know I am so shocked to see you here, but in such a good way. I- I am about to be so brutally honest, i couldn't get my mind off of you the past two days and it's been driving me insane, and i'd really like to take you out while we're both in Paris" not wanting the photographer or Jake to hear, "and we should probably come up with a pose for this photo huh".

That made Cleo giggle. It took them a couple minutes to pick a pose and lots of urging from the photographer and Andrew, that Shawn only had a little more time till Q&A. They ended up landing on a pose with Shawn behind her, arms wrapped tightly around her small body. They both had huge grins on their faces when the photo went off because they couldn't stop laughing, you could see the excitement and happiness in both their eyes. " So you want to take me on a date? how're we gonna do that without anyone noticing us" Cleo had always imagined what it would be like dating him, constantly being recognized, little to no privacy, and she didn't know if she could handle that, she hated being the center of attention, even if it was just because she were dating a superstar.

Andrew Shawn's manager was signaling to Shawn he needed to get ready for Q&A, "Okay I know with my lifestyle their isn't a lot of privacy but i do want to take you out and i'll do my very best to make sure we're as discreet as possible, can i get your number? i'll message you tomorrow and we can plan this more, as i'm sadly running out of time here as much as i want to talk to you for much longer".

Cleo gave him her number, both of them smiling like idiots. Shawn hugged her tight before he left to go prepare for the Q&A "i'll see you in the other room" he winked walking out of the room, leaving her giddy with so many emotions.

The next day Cleo woke up to a bunch of texts from a random number, which could only be Shawn. He had texted her telling her the plans he had made which were that they'd meet in the hotel bar, have a drink, and then go to dinner. She smiled and laughed that he wanted to meet in the very place fate had placed them both at the same time.

Last night had been surreal and she couldn't believe she had finally seen him in concert, she had cried so many times last night she couldn't even count. But now she was going on a date with him, it felt unreal and like a dream, how had she ended up in this situation, in the same hotel as Shawn Mendes which seemed impossible, yet was happening. She replied to his texts which lead to them texting the rest of the morning.

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

The next night she was in her room getting ready for her date, she had made sure nat and thalia were there, so she wouldn't back out. She needed all the moral support she could get, she was nervous as hell and her anxiety was at an all time high. Two hours later and she was ready, "You're going to do amazing, he's just a regular guy with.... millions of fans, but just forget that last part and you'll be FINE" Nat reassured Cleo.

She headed down to the hotel bar, while in the elevator she couldn't help but get excited and small surge of confidence. He is just a regular guy, conversation came so easy last time she reminded her self. She walked to the bar and got a seat at a table. Fifteen minutes went by, she was early of course she wanted to have time to get herself together. She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned around, She couldn't stop her mouth from falling open as she saw the man standing before her.

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fan fiction #Shawn #mendes army #mendes #fanfiction #fan fic #fan fiction

[kiruuuuu]

Bandit/Jäger oneshot in which Jäger is convinced that jerking off while wearing Bandit’s jacket is the best thing since sliced bread. (Rating E, explicit smut/eventual fluff, ~6k words) - written for @blitznbandit. Happy Birthday!! 💞💞

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The music is loud enough to dampen all other sounds, the usual hard rock Bandit favours, full of cheesy guitar riffs and dudes singing about all the things these kinds of dudes normally sing about – and yet Bandit’s voice easily pierces the cacophony despite being nothing more than a low purr: “I can’t take my eyes off you, you’re beautiful. I could do this all night.” One of his hands pushes under Jäger’s t-shirt, rubs over a nipple while the other continues to slowly but surely drive him insane, keeps the strokes slow. He knows exactly how Jäger likes it, massages the head and his balls now and then before his fist closes around the shaft once more to continue the teasing. They’re in a remarkably clean bathroom somewhere, probably a club, both of them sober but having made the decision to go pee at the same time? No, that’s right, Bandit dragged him here after undressing him with his eyes, couldn’t stand to be separated from him just a minute longer.

When Jäger throws his head back into the pillows at a particularly vicious throb of his rock hard erection, the headphones almost get pushed off his ears and so he has to momentarily withdraw his one hand to adjust them before he pushes it back under the jacket, the only piece of clothing he’s wearing right now. The rhythm of the song returns, resonating in his body, and he sinks back into his fantasy like a comfy blanket.

He was cold earlier, on the way to the club or pub or wherever they are, that’s why he’s wearing it. It fits him perfectly, the soft leather like a second skin and it smells like Bandit, too, dizzyingly so because Jäger’s toes curl every time he moves and catches a whiff of it. In a way, it’s like being hugged by Bandit constantly, and so his projection does, whispers more filth into Jäger’s ear as he proceeds to jerk him exactly how he likes it only now there’s an edge to his voice. He sounds strained and keeps glancing down, is clearly affected by what he sees and it won’t be long until he’s tired of waiting, until he turns Jäger around and fucks him, right then and there in the really quite clean bathroom, claims his body, moans into his ear as he thrusts into him and reaches around to continue -

Jäger gasps and lies to himself for a second, pretends he’ll go for another round if he finishes early but it’s only his impatience getting to him – this together with the mental image of Bandit losing control due to his unbearable desire is too much and he’s so close already. Breathing heavily, he forces his own hand away from his weeping dick and strokes his thigh instead, forces himself to wait a bit before he continues. In his mind, Bandit is teasing him, denying him his release so they can come simultaneously, telling him how good he feels as he keeps pushing into Jäger’s hole which is tingling pleasantly right now. Maybe he should go a step further today, he has enough time. It’s tempting.

For now, he has to pace himself. He could take a break and possibly dig up Bandit’s aftershave as well, change positions and reach a bit lower, to the place where his fingers are lazily trailing now, brushing over his scrotum, travelling further south. He decides to go for it but first, he needs lube, so he heaves a shaky sigh, opens his eyes and does not expect Bandit to just stand there two metres away, staring at him directly with a small, disbelieving grin on his lips and his phone in his hand.

The panic is instant and follows the second in which Jäger’s heart literally stops in horror because not only has he just been caught in the act of wanking on Bandit’s bed wearing nothing but his trademark jacket, no, he’s been caught by the devil himself. Before the consequences which undoubtedly await him register, he jerks upright into a sitting position, dumbly shielding his cock from view, and pushes the blasted headphones off. It’s not even the first time he got caught while wearing some, that’s the beauty of it, he really should’ve known better, learnt from his adolescence but he’s already defending himself from himself mentally, recalls the fact that Bandit wasn’t supposed to be in the base the entire day and yet the only thing he blurts out is a heartfelt: “Fuck.”

“Oh yeah”, Bandit agrees with him and lets his grin morph into the sleaziest smirk Jäger has ever seen, “you fucked up, babe. Big time. Normally I have to pay for a show like this.”

“Delete it”, Jäger demands with burning cheeks.

“Oh, they’re on my cloud now”, Bandit replies innocently while tapping away at his screen – at least his gaze isn’t focused on Jäger anymore.

“Delete it all, Dom.”

“Whoops, I sent them to myself via email.” His teammate wiggles his eyebrows at him. “What a shame, I deleted all my saved passwords from my phone. Even if you steal it, you won’t be able to access it to purge it all.”

Fuck, Jäger repeats in his head and frantically starts searching for an alternative. Have Mute hack Dom’s phone? Mute would probably save the incriminating evidence himself and blackmail Jäger with it in the future. Tell Blitz? Jäger would rather give up his mortal soul than admit to what he’s done. As terrifying as it sounds, Bandit himself seems to be his best shot. Or rather: the least worst. “Okay, look”, he begins and hates himself for how his voice cracks.

“Ready to bargain?”, Bandit guesses correctly with a wolfish grin. “That’s what I like to hear. What are you willing to do to make these oh so delicious photos disappear, hm?”

A dangerous question. An absolutely dodgy and perilous question, a slip-and-slide kind of question because Bandit grants him the option of proposing exceedingly desperate solutions which his teammate might not even have considered viable, discarding them because surely, Jäger would never. But right now, senses heightened due to the adrenaline spike resulting from the shock, skin tingling where Bandit’s gaze unapologetically rakes over it and mind still occupied with residues from his earlier fantasies, Jäger would. Oh would he ever. He looks at Bandit and pictures himself on his knees in front of him, for the first time in his life servicing another man and dear God this shouldn’t be turning him on so much. He bites his lip and remains silent, refuses to answer for fear of what might come out of his mouth.

“No offers? Alright, no problem. I actually have something in mind already.” Humming to himself, Bandit starts rummaging in his wardrobe as if finding one of his colleagues clearly masturbating to him was an everyday occurrence for which he’s perfectly prepared. Regardless of his mortification, Jäger is intrigued, his cock twitching in anticipation and his mind racing while trying to discern what it is Bandit has planned for him. It must be something filthy, maybe he’s going to torture Jäger with toys or maybe he’ll finally, finally go all the way. Not that he’s refused before seeing as Jäger never gave any indication on wanting it, but this would be the ultimate excuse. He can tell himself – and Bandit – he only gave in because he was blackmailed. Right? He’s chewing on his lip and tries not to let his excitement show on his face, not to let Bandit know how much he’s actually looking forward to whatever it is he’s going to do to him.

And then Bandit pulls something out of his closet and says: “Wear this.”

Jäger blinks. Looks at the outfit with an even expression and struggles to come up with a reply for a few seconds. Ignores Bandit’s predatory grin. He can’t be serious. “You can’t be serious. No fucking way.”

“Who do you think would appreciate the pictures the most? Elias? Maybe one of the girls?”

“You can’t make me put this on.”

“Oh, I can and I will. You break into my room, wear my jacket, choke the chicken on my bed and have the audacity to tell me you’re not going to do me this small favour?”

It’s – Jäger can’t do this, he’ll never be able to look into a mirror again. Mindlessly horny or not, there is a line and this is definitely crossing it, he’s fine with performing sexual favours for his own pleasure but this – this is too much. Why does Bandit even own one of these? “Over my dead body, Dom.”

Bandit’s grin widens. “Well, if you insist.” And Jäger is not sure whether he’s joking or not.

.

Two minutes later, Jäger is kneeling on Bandit’s bed, wearing every midlife crisis suffering pervert’s wet dream of a schoolgirl uniform and valiantly fighting the flush threatening to darken his cheeks. It’s a complete set together with thigh-high socks, a much too short skirt and even a loose tie over the tight blouse – and Jäger wants to die. As if him sporting this abomination of an outfit wasn’t bad enough already, Bandit’s devilishly pleased face only increases his embarrassment to a point where Jäger is this close to actually choosing literal death over this humiliation. Worryingly enough, his dick hasn’t received the memo it’s supposed to be disliking any of this and instead is straining against the underwear on which Bandit insisted. It’s too small and uncomfortable and Jäger rues the day he first laid eyes on Bandit because he’s the whole reason it’s come to any of this.

“Why do you have this”, he wants to know defeatedly. The clothes fit suspiciously well and the two of them are built very similarly, so -

“Shut up and spread your legs. You’re going to finish what you started earlier, only by my rules. How does that sound?” Bandit sits down on a chair he pulled towards the bed, not close enough to reach and yet entirely too close for comfort. His leather jacket is draped over the backrest and Jäger throws it a longing glance. He’d much rather wear it than this disaster.

Upon hearing Bandit’s plans for him, he can’t help but feel a pang of disappointment amid all the horror. He swallows his pride together with the that’s it? lying on his tongue and obliges, allows Bandit a better view and averts his gaze. He’s never done this, never dressed up and… performed for someone else’s viewing pleasure so he’s lost on what to do and how to do it. Arousal is still thrumming in his blood, convincing him to relax a little, give in, and yet he’s hesitant.

“You like this, don’t you?”, Bandit purrs and Jäger only just stops himself from nodding. “This is supposed to be a punishment though. You’ve been naughty, you dirty little slut.”

“Okay, no”, Jäger protests immediately in indignation, “I can – I can do what you asked, but that’s -”

“Fucking slut”, Bandit repeats with gusto and a triumphant grin. “My rules, don’t forget that. Besides, you were the one ready to nut all over my poor jacket. If you want me that bad, show me. Let me see how much you want this.”

Jäger remembers now why this is a bad idea: Bandit is going to be insufferable. Reluctantly, he lifts the edge of the skirt, revealing the outline of his erection which jumped happily at Bandit’s insults (something he’ll have to worry about later, now’s not the time). His teammate’s expression slips into self-satisfied and he stretches out on his chair in anticipation. “Lovely. Go ahead, then. Give me a show.”

With gritted teeth, Jäger pulls down the waistband of the panties, hooking them under his testicles and freeing his stiff member from its prison, and contemplates existence for a second. It’s entirely his own fault he’s here now, there’s no real denying it – he could’ve borrowed the jacket and none of this would’ve happened, he wouldn’t be wrapping his own fingers around his cock with Bandit watching intently. Somehow, it’s worse than being touched by him, he’d prefer Bandit using him instead of this where he himself is in control and has the illusion of agency. And despite the shock earlier, the tip is still sensitive to the touch, sends small electric shocks through his body on every light stroke.

He feels filthy, sullied purely by the fact that Bandit is watching him, that there’s an asymmetry between them: Jäger flushed, breathing unevenly and genitals exposed whereas Bandit is composed and fully dressed. It’s elating somehow, like being allowed something forbidden and so he tightens his grip and speeds up, even leans back and flips the skirt up so Bandit won’t bitch. He can’t lie to himself and pretend he’s simply jerking off like usual because he knows Bandit’s there even if he’s not looking at him and instead fixing his gaze on his own swollen dick, no, it’s completely different and… he can’t say he doesn’t like it.

“Were you thinking about me?”, Bandit asks innocently and Jäger loses his rhythm for a moment, glances up in disbelief. “Huh? Were you imagining my hands around your cock instead of your own?” He’s balancing his chair on two legs while regarding Jäger with a fond smile and in any other context it’d seem almost sweet – right now, it’s nothing but cheeky.

“I wasn’t -” He breaks off and gasps when the words finally register because oh yeah, it’s the logical conclusion from how Bandit found him, isn’t it? Therefore, Bandit now knows of his attraction, possibly guesses a crush and dear Lord. That’s not ideal, is it? He’ll shamelessly exploit his knowledge. Kind of like he is now.

“But you were. I didn’t know you liked me that much.”

“I don’t”, Jäger insists emphatically and vaguely panicked. Even after more than a year, Bandit still intimidates regularly him, his lack of conscience and overall callousness are alarming and the two of them clash now and then, neither of them ready to back down from an argument which often results in stony silence until they go drinking together and suddenly are best friends again. Bandit is fickle and vulgar and yet something about him appeals to Jäger, probably his softer side which surfaces rarely. He can be lovely and thoughtful and even compassionate, and thus Jäger’s mind wanders, conjures up situations where this complicated, complex man feels so drawn to him that his lust wins over common sense – and it’s fucking cliché, he knows that, as cheesy as it is improbable and so he’s ashamed to admit to his fantasies.

“No? You don’t?” Bandit acts surprised and for a moment, Jäger wants to trip his chair and send him flying. “If it’s not my charming personality, it must be my body. Right?” It warrants no answer and so Jäger simply concentrates on not coming too early – the temptation to end this as quickly as possible is strong, just like his desire, though he feels Bandit would make his dissatisfaction known in that case and he wants to avoid exactly that. “Maybe it helps you if I take off my clothes as well.”

Jäger stops moving his hand. While he’s frozen and simply staring at his erection framed by the pattered fabric of the skirt and the white lace, he hears rustling and feels his heart speed up. Slowly, he raises his gaze and is confronted with a flat belly first, then black ink on pale skin, meandering over pronounced muscles and distracting to a point where it takes Jäger several seconds to notice the dark metal. Jesus Christ. His shaft twitches in his fingers the moment he realises Bandit’s nipples are pierced and he watches, thunderstruck, as Bandit licks over the pad of his thumb and begins playing with one of the rings, his grin never once fading.

Holy hell. This is -

“Don’t fucking stop. You’re supposed to entertain me.” With a barely suppressed moan, Jäger resumes his strokes, drinks in the lithe body lounging in front of him and tries to picture the scene from outside – him in this ridiculous outfit, wanking to a half naked Bandit teasing himself. His eyes are drawn to Bandit’s crotch and find what they’re looking for, the outline of his boner visible even through the jeans and when he sees it strain upwards, he inhales sharply. “You want me to join you?”, Bandit questions him calmly and this time, Jäger gives a direct answer, nods eagerly and bites his lip when Bandit’s unoccupied hand starts unbuttoning his jeans. Excitement rises in him because even if he might not get to touch it, at least he’s going to see his dick and file the image away for later, for when he can ‘borrow’ the jacket maybe or find out where he buys his aftershave. He’s not obsessing about this. He’s not.

When Bandit pulls his erection out, Jäger’s first reaction is a bit underwhelming because hey, it’s a cock, very similar to his own, nothing he hasn’t seen before, only then his mind catches up that it’s Bandit’s and it’s in this state only because of him. Heat rises in him at this realisation and he subconsciously mirrors Bandit’s movements, slides his hand from the tip to the base a few times before going for shorter, faster motions which steal his breath away – though not nearly as much as the sight in front of him. He gets it now, gets the appeal of making someone else pleasure themselves. His eyes are glued to Bandit’s erect cock, to the wet head just as much as the long fingers massaging it, working the shaft, and yes. He likes this. It’s mutual, incredibly hot and relatively tame despite his costume. If this is all he’ll have to do, he’s more than fine with it.

“You’re enjoying this too fucking much”, Bandit pants, slightly shaken and not unaffected which intensifies the rush Jäger gets from all of this, “how about you put the ass in masturbate and finger yourself a bit?”

Well. So much for that. He halts for the nth time but is too far gone to stop touching himself entirely, strokes over the sensitive spot right below the head and moans involuntarily when he sees Bandit doing the same. “Can’t I just – ah – keep going like this?”

“Sluts don’t get to come from their dicks, sweetheart. Lube is in the drawer.”

When Jäger utters a breathy laugh at the blunt statement, Bandit’s serious façade crumbles and makes way for a short-lived genuine smile which usually shows when Jäger actually managed to amuse him and also destroys the illusion of a power imbalance momentarily. “I can’t do it the other way though”, he says as he crawls to the other side of the bed only to balk at the variety of items in Bandit’s bedside table. The skirt is brushing over his tip and he’s well aware of the view which he’s presenting to Bandit – butt raised in his direction – and yet can’t find the energy to care.

“So you’ve tried before?” Bandit sounds intrigued again and when Jäger shoots him a look and an affirmative though hesitant nod, the smile is gone, replaced by a fiery gaze and an expectant smirk. “How many can you fit in? Three? No, no, don’t take the panties off, just push them down and let me see.”

Jäger knows what he’s asking for and the thought causes all the embarrassment to return which vanished upon Bandit starting to jerk off as well. Uncertainly, he drags the underwear over his hips and shows his backside to his teammate, shuffle closer to the edge of the bed per Bandit’s instructions until his feet are dangling over it. He can only imagine what he must look like right now – basically offering himself, skirt riding up and barely covering his ass, white blouse flattering his narrow waist and thigh-high socks adorning his legs. The feeling of depravity returns once more because it’s a shameful pose, no matter how easily he relented. Without giving it too much thought, he flips the cap open and pours some lube into his hand, coats his fingers and reaches behind him.

“Just imagine it’s my fingers”, Bandit speaks up, voice thick. He seems to be enjoying himself if his laboured breathing is any indication, and so Jäger wastes no time and gingerly pushes one finger into himself, relaxes into it and tries to ignore his pose, him on his hands and knees just for Bandit. It helps to picture his object of desire behind him, pretend it’s him slowly working Jäger open, getting him ready for -

When he adds the second finger, his arm gives in and he buries his face in the blanket to muffle his moan because now he’s thinking of Bandit taking him again, the idea flighty and vague in his head yet oh so tempting. Bandit would claim him, show no mercy, lose himself and it’d be incredible. He can hear more rustling behind him, Bandit probably shuffling around on his seat, but the blood rushing in his ears is louder. It’s rare enough that he does this, breaches himself for the sake of mind-blowing pleasure, and now he’s showing it to Bandit of all people, his gaze setting him ablaze, mind running wild with hopeful thoughts.

“That’s right. Reach all the way inside. You look fucking amazing like this.” Jäger stifles another moan at the low rumble of Bandit’s voice and concentrates on the odd feeling his fingers are causing, not unpleasant but strange nonetheless. He hasn’t fully gotten used to it yet but inserts a third finger tentatively, stretches himself and feels his dick twitch in response. “You’re so eager. Do you do this often? Fantasise it’s my cock instead? I didn’t know you wanted me this badly, you little slut, you’d probably be happy choking on my dick, too.” Jäger is biting his lip once again, the words getting to him more than he’d like to admit. He feels like putty in Bandit’s hands, probably would obey his every order right now, especially if he were allowed to suck him off despite never have done so before. He’d find a way.

And then a hand comes down on his ass, hard. He jumps at the loud smack and it’s the shock more than actual hurt which causes it – Bandit is standing right behind him but Jäger can’t see because his face is still in the sheets and it’s the second time Bandit catches him unaware. “Take your fingers out”, he orders and Jäger does, slowly, leaves behind an odd, empty feeling, made even more vulnerable due to the fact that Bandit is this close now, can inspect it directly. “Do you want this instead?”

Before Jäger can ask, there’s something touching his backside, touching his hole and it’s blunt and hot and holy fucking Christ. It’s finally happening. He’s frozen, focuses on the silky smooth feel of Bandit’s shaft slowly rubbing up and down over his ring of muscle and has trouble breathing, clenches his fists, tries and fails not to tremble. “Huh? I can’t hear you. Do you want me to stick it in?” Jäger is tongue tied with how much he wants it, pushes against Bandit’s dick and is rewarded with another sharp slap to his ass which has him shy away. “As long as you don’t have a cock in your mouth, you can answer.”

Bandit leans over him for a moment and the next thing Jäger knows is an insistent tug at his throat, threatening to cut off his air and so he rises the more Bandit pulls on his tie, has it wrapped around one hand and drags Jäger so far up that he’s on his knees and fingertips now, wobbling unsteadily and eyes wide in alarm. He can still breathe shallowly and it doesn’t hurt but he doesn’t want to test his limits. “Marius, my dear friend and part-time slut, do you want me to fuck you right now or not?” Bandit sounds amused, as if he’s enjoying himself immensely.

“Yes”, Jäger whispers and sucks air in through his teeth when he feels Bandit’s thick head breaching him straightaway. His belly flutters and his mouth falls open at the intrusion, his ring of muscle pulsing around the shaft yet welcoming it easily due to the thorough preparation, and it’s – he feels it in his throat, every centimetre is like a landslide, fills him to the brim and makes him wonder how it’s possible for him to accommodate this much. He’s being complemented, becoming one with Bandit and despite the circumstances, it’s painfully intimate and causes a fuzzy, warm feeling to rise up in him. The pressure around his neck disappears once Bandit is buried fully in him and he sinks back down, pants against the sheets and experimentally squeezes around Bandit’s cock, relishes the sensation of it throbbing this deep. It feels even better than he thought it would.

“Fuck”, Bandit hoarsely voices all that Jäger can think right now as well, “oh fuck. You’re so tight. Oh my God.” Hands come to rest on Jäger’s hips, thumbs brushing over his lower back and Bandit withdraws, pushes back in and Jäger is lost to the world. It’s so different to anything he’s felt before, a much more fundamental pleasure, and he has to give himself up for it, trust Bandit to take care of him. His eyes fall shut and his toes curl during the next thrusts, still gentle, tentative, but then Bandit grabs the waistband of his skirt and starts dragging him to meet his movements as Jäger moans helplessly. Bandit’s earlier words come to mind for some reason – and right now, he admittedly does feel pretty slutty.

None of his wank fantasies could’ve held up to the real thing, it’s an odd mix of deliberate and wild, he’s being flooded with sensations yet they’re predictable to a certain point, reassuring and deeply satisfying. He rocks back into Bandit and his senses are being overloaded with intense lust, forcing moans out of his throat and making his thighs shiver – every thrust hits something inside him which makes him see stars, pushes him into the mattress as he just lies there and allows Bandit to take him apart without even considering touching himself. His dick is worryingly stiff and leaking copious amounts of precum, he’s never just dripped like this and yet it feels too good to end it this soon.

Curiosity and the need for a deeper connection win over his embarrassment and he props himself up on his lower arms, twists around so he can look at Bandit and has the sneaking suspicion he ends up gazing at him so lovingly and devotedly he must look like a newly deflowered virgin. He certainly still feels that fluttery thing in his stomach which probably also shows on his face, but Bandit doesn’t seem to mind his longing expression because he just flashes him an affectionate smile and starts petting him. Without interrupting his hard thrusts, he strokes over Jäger’s back, softly drags his nails over his scalp in a soothing gesture and brushes over his side before telling him: “You look so pretty like this.”

You too, Jäger thinks, flattered, and savours the view of all the intricate tattoos up close for a moment before a spike of pleasure makes him whine. Bandit’s eyes darken and he speeds up, reaches around Jäger’s body to jerk him to completion but slows down when Jäger asks him to wait. “Can we -”, he stops when Bandit bottoms out and has to take a deep breath before being able to continue, “- I want to… let me look at you.”

And Bandit returns his gaze, both fond and disarmed, before sighing and pulling out, making both of them groan. “Alright. Lie down.” He pats Jäger’s ass and removes the lacy underwear, crawls between his legs once Jäger has made himself comfortable on his back. Only now does he notice Bandit is actually wearing a condom, something which he didn’t feel before, and not for the first time is his mouth faster than his brain.

“Do you want to take that off?”

Bandit laughs in disbelief and scoots closer. “Are you fucking serious?” He slides back into Jäger and, once again, it’s entirely new since now they’re looking at each other, much closer than before and Jäger can’t help but feel up Bandit’s chest, trace the ink with his fingertips and pull lightly on one of the nipple rings while wrapping his legs around Bandit’s waist, barely taking notice of the long socks. “Looks like you really are a slut, you take my cock so willingly, you’re basically drawing me in yourself. How does it feel?” He thrusts deep and Jäger moans in response, arches his back and grips Bandit’s thighs. “Hm? How does my cock feel?”

He’s starting to get light-headed from the intensity of it, from finally being this close to Bandit, hearing him moan now and then, his features contorting in pleasure – he’s painfully attractive and simply looking at him sates a hunger inside Jäger of which he wasn’t aware previously. “It feels fucking amazing”, he replies quietly because it does but also because the smile he gets in return is blinding. He’s grinding against Bandit now, moving one of his hands to his own crotch to finish with Bandit fucking him what started as him being all alone.

“Yeah? You like it?”, Bandit wants to know and grins, satisfied, when Jäger just nods. “You look so cute, you know, like you can’t get enough. Maybe I’ll dress you up properly next time and fuck you so hard your mascara smudges.” For a moment, the image is in Jäger’s mind, him bouncing on Bandit’s dick in the same outfit as right now, nails and lips painted the same shade, and – and no, he can’t do that. He shakes his head slightly even as his hand speeds up, his muscles tensing. He realises with sudden clarity that he’s close, that he’s going to come with Bandit’s cock deep inside and Bandit looking down at him almost proudly and it’s all he ever wanted, even if he’s wearing a goddamn skirt. Every one of Bandit’s thrusts rock his whole body and he looks down to where they’re connected, can watch the shaft entering him over and over again and it feels so incredibly good.

“I’m gonna come”, he whispers and moans when his words earn him a brutal thrust which hits all the right spots, his hand tightening. “Oh fuck, Dom, I’m gonna -”

“Do it.”

And after Bandit has slammed into him a few more times, Jäger gets pushed over the edge, finally tips over into the promised land of sweet relief. Warmth spreads from his midsection, rushes down all the way into his toes, forces the air out of his lungs and has him curl up in bliss, disbelieving sounds falling from his lips as his dick pulses and spurts thick semen all over his clothes. It’s pure ecstasy, much more extreme than any orgasm he’s ever had before, shakes him to his core and leaves him quivering. Waves of pleasure muddle his brain so that he barely notices the gentle hand pushing his hair back and brushing over his eyebrows as he shudders and clamps down on Bandit’s erection.

While he coasts on the afterglow, slowly relaxing, loosening the death grip of his legs around Bandit and sinking back into the pillows, Bandit continues his affectionate ministrations, strokes his cheek, touches his parted lips, caresses his exposed throat and then massages his chest, digs his fingertips into his muscles and helps ground him, soothes his exhausted body. He stopped moving when Jäger came, displaying an impressive amount of patience and when he manages to open his eyes again, Bandit is regarding him almost victoriously. “Felt good?”, he asks.

Jäger just nods, still stunned, and when Bandit smiles yet again, he just – pulls him down and kisses him. Despite everything, they’ve barely touched the entire time so he’s starving for closer contact now, stretches towards Bandit and hums when he reciprocates, toys with his tongue and admits to himself that alright, maybe he does have a slight crush, but so what? Sure, maybe the target of his infatuation just made him wear this ludicrous costume and insists on calling him a slut but no one’s perfect, right? He’ll easily forgive Bandit everything as long as he won’t stop snogging him like this, thorough and filthy. Since Bandit hasn’t come yet, he pulls him in with his legs, rocks against him and moans into his mouth when Bandit understands and picks up where he left off, drives into Jäger and gasps when he clenches around him.

They never stop kissing until Bandit reaches his orgasm as well, one moment Jäger is sucking on his lower lip with abandon and the next Bandit tenses up and pants and groans against his neck, sheaths himself fully in Jäger and climaxes as well, body trembling under Jäger’s palms and cock throbbing. The sensation is addicting and part of Jäger wishes he’d gone bareback. Just so he can strike it off his bucket list, of course. For a few wonderful moments, it’s quiet, both of them concentrating on their breathing, Jäger basking in Bandit’s body heat, and then Bandit withdraws to tie off the condom and carelessly throw it to the floor. They look at each other, a little lost, and Jäger’s arms feel oddly empty all of a sudden.

“Can I take this off now?”, he eventually wants to know and Bandit chuckles.

“Sure. I’ll have to wash it anyway, you jizzed all over it.”

“I might regret the question”, Jäger responds as he’s unbuttoning the blouse, “but I just need to know: why do you own a schoolgirl outfit?”

“There’s a perfectly normal explanation. It was supposed to be Jackal’s Halloween costume but it was a little too short, so he gave it to me. I honestly didn’t think you’d be so into it, but here we are.”

“Here we are”, Jäger echoes and throws the second sock onto the floor. They look at each other again. “Are you going to delete the photos now?”

“Are you kidding? You jerking off in my jacket is the single hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen, there’s no way I’m deleting anything. But there’s also no way I’m showing anyone else. That shit stays with me. It’s mine now.” Oh. Alright. If he puts it like that, Jäger supposes he’s fine with it. Mostly. It’d be even better if Bandit wrapped around him again but that’s probably asking too much – they’re done with each other now, it’s like a finished transaction. Both of them got out of it what they wanted. Right? “What were you listening to, actually?”

Jäger opens his mouth but Bandit is faster, snatches the player still attached to the headphones which were discarded on the bed and scrolls through the playlist. The more he sees, the higher his eyebrows rise. “This is all – you always complain when I put any of this on. Do you even like this music? Man, you really must have it bad for me, eh?”

It’s a joke. Both of them know it’s a joke and yet he can’t bring himself to laugh, can’t even pretend to find it funny and so he stays dead silent. Bandit fixes him with a level stare. “You’re fucking with me.”

There’s nothing he can say. He has no defence and so he remains mute.

Bandit lowers the music player and blinks at him, his expression unreadable. “I need a smoke”, he announces and gets up, probably flees and Jäger can’t blame him. After all, this is coming out of nowhere and there was no indication this meant anything. Despite the way they beamed at each other. Despite all the kisses. Just as suddenly, Bandit changes his mind and sits down again, drags Jäger closer and manhandles him onto his lap, embracing him and hissing: “Fuck. You goddamn idiot. Fucking talk to me. How did you think wanking in my bed would help you in any way?”

“I just -” He doesn’t know. In a weak attempt at being funny, he offers: “I mean, it kinda did.”

A huffed laugh and then Bandit is locking lips with him again and this time, both of them are fully aware of what it means. Jäger smiles into it, holds on to him and kisses back contentedly, satisfied with just staying like this for a few minutes, the warm, fluttering feeling returning to his stomach. “I didn’t know”, Bandit murmurs eventually and Jäger shakes his head gently.

“I didn’t tell you.”

“Does this mean I can officially call you my slut now?”

Jäger snorts and jabs him in the ribs. “Absolutely not.” Then, all of a sudden, a different thought occurs to him: “Did Jackal give you the panties as well?”

And, with a wide grin, Bandit says: “No, don’t worry. Those are just my own.”

#rainbow six siege #bandit #jäger #bandit/jäger #fanfic #oneshot #I hope you like it and I wish you all the best!! #also kapcan I've not given up just been busy with this #expect a retaliation later today

[themousai]

Single Review: Seas Of Conflict - Prometheus + Eventide

It’d be hard to be involved in the New Zealand metal scene without having encountered Seas of Conflict, the four piece metalcore outfit serving up a one-two punch in the shape of two new tracks, Prometheus and Eventide. These two tracks are intended as two halves of the same endeavor, displaying contrasting sides of the skill set honed and crafted by the band over many dedicated years finding not only a definitive sound, but also learning how to explore and experiment in ways that cement Seas of Conflict as one of the best heavy acts in the country. Prometheus and Eventide are two different sides of a single coin, between a refinement of the familiar and an exploration new ground. Both sides of the coin are devised and executed to a polished standard, the versatility of which make it clear that Seas of Conflict have earned full NZ heavyweight status. 

The first side of the coin is Prometheus, a track familiar in approach to what Seas fans will gravitate to. The intro immediately stomps out of the gate with a riff that’s half chug and half dark and brooding, which instantly establishes the mood and tone of the song. This riff gives way into a lead that anyone who’s heard an album from Sumerian Records in the last decade will instantly vibe to, with the sudden punch of vocalist Kody Naidoo’s insane growls. 

Finally the song lifts its foot off your neck into a more spacey bridge, the vocals overtop more drowned out, frantic, urgent than previously. The track winds along this After the Burial-esque lead, but this almost acts as a lull to emphasise suddenly returning the proverbial foot to your neck, this time heavier. Driving double kick, riff like the shower scene in Psycho, plus some of the best lows I’ve heard Seas of Conflict ever put to record. This serves as a reminder that throughout, Prometheus intends to be an exceptionally heavy track in its essence, even though the aggression might ease off in parts. The surging blastbeat drops out into a perfectly executed bounce that any fans of Seas’ live performance will recognise. You know the ones where guitarist Declan Storrie does the foot-to-foot djent guitarist stomp. Love ‘em. 

This entire section acts to prepare listeners for one of the heaviest breakdowns that Seas have ever recorded, instrumentally very reminiscent of Singularity era Northlane, paired with Kody’s aforementioned savage lows. Genuinely, the vocal delivery on Prometheus in particular cements Kody as one of the country’s best metalcore vocalists. His gutturals sound like an earthquake causing an avalanche. Said earthquake subsides and mellows into a more echoed and tranquil, vocals again drowned out and urgent, before introducing the first clean vocals of the track, unexpected but seamlessly integrated. 

Prometheus closes with a crushing weight and slow, grinding pace. Spoiler alert, it’ll bust your teeth. This track represents a refinement of the sound Seas have been crafting since starting out, less an exploration of new territory, more a flawless execution over familiar ground. This side of the Prometheus/Eventide coin is exactly the type of song many of their fans will expect from them, but executed in a way intended to simultaneously smash those expectations.

Flipping over the coin reveals Eventide, much more of a departure from the familiar territory of Prometheus. This track immediately swells into a twostep riff which honestly reminds me of Horizons era Parkway Drive, the tail end of which is clipped with metalcore chugs to draw it back to a contemporary sound. The bounce that follows introduces Kody’s vocals, this time more evened out and mid-range, establishing this as the less aggressive and more emotional of the two tracks. Eventide explores a melodic and accessible side of their genre, which is perfectly encapsulated in the chorus. Clean choruses are not something I think of when imagining the Seas of Conflict repertoire, but Eventide demonstrates a melodic versatility, not just vocally but instrumentally as well. This is a genuine banger of a metalcore chorus and one that will absolutely pay off in a live setting.

Eventide relies much more heavily on clean vocals than Prometheus, again demonstrating that this band have the ability to explore a new direction without losing complete touch with their progressive metalcore roots.

Subjective interpretation here, but I saw this shift as an emphasis on a more personal lyrical theme, intentionally delivered more clearly and understandably to feel more honest. This continues in the second verse, more forced and pained than before, before a quick and panicky section keying up to a paced groove paired with a satisfying “OH” (you’re not a metalcore fan if you don’t like OH’s). The polish on this breakdown is made fully clear when it drops seamlessly back into the chorus, transitioning back to melody without seeming jarring. 

The energy of the song then washes out into an echoey bridge, simple guitar with hazy drums, intentionally pulled to the background to focus the listener’s attention entirely on the gentle vocal melody. This section builds gradually into a steady anthemic stomp, rather than the savage breakdown a typical Seas fan might expect. That being said the choice of a soaring ending over a heavy one does not diminish Eventide’s energy, instead feeling like a well-earned payoff to a much more experimental song than fans are used to. Kody delivers his clean vocals just as consistently as his screams, which ties the track’s closing together as satisfyingly epic. 

For me, Eventide contrasts with Prometheus as the difference between what I knew Seas of Conflict can do well and what I now know they’re capable of. The choice to adopt a more chorus-focused song structure shows a knack for adaption that will doubtless serve the band well in widening their audience.

Two sides of one coin, a contrast between refinement and exploration. Seas of Conflict have managed to reflect their live energy and experience as songwriters with Prometheus and Eventide. Anyone like myself who recalls this band starting out will agree that the level of progression demonstrated by these two tracks have elevated the Hamilton heavybois to another level. The band have consistently moved from strength to strength, release wise. But for real, this is one actual hell of a strength. 

The band are supporting Northlane in Auckland on October 26th, at which I have no doubt both of these tracks will satisfy established fans and welcome new ones into the fold. The thin line between establishing a definitive tone, without being scared to stray out and explore from it, has marked Seas of Conflict as deserving of the dedicated fans they’ve earned over years in the game. 

Keep up to date with Seas Of Conflict Facebook | Instagram | Twitter | Youtube

Review written by Jai Aronsen Promo photo by Matt Henry Mendonca

#jai aronsen #matt henry mendonca #seas of conflict #reviews #the mousai #new zealand

[avarosewintersxwattpad]

A night to Remember - Chapter One

The Main Plot

When chic Smith rolls into town and Betty doesn't completely trust him, Veronica end up at a serpent party and falls under the spell of Chic Fucking Smith

Main Characters Used in this Fanfiction

Chic Smith - Hart Denton

Betty Cooper -Lili Reinhart

Veronica Lodge Camila Mendes

Claim

This version of chic Smith is different from the TV show version in this story he is not a killer and he is the real Charles Smith so please don't hate i changed up the character a little bit for Roleplay and for this story

________________________________________________

Chic Smith

Full Name: Charles Smith

Age: 17

Gender: Male

Parents: Alice Smith, Charles 

Siblings: Betty and Polly Cooper

Love Interest: Veronica Lode, Ava Jones, Ethel

Best friends: Ethel, Sweetpea, Dilton

Gang: The southside Serpents

Enemies: Hiram Lodge, Polly Cooper, Hal Cooper

School: Riverdale High

Sexuality: Bisexual

Pets: Bandit

Side of town: Northside, Southside

Job: The Movie Theatre, The Drive-in, Pops, Camboy

Hobbies: Photography

skills: Tech, Hacking

Style: Geeky Badboy

A Night to Remember - A Party to Remember

Chapter two

https://avarosewintersfanfic.tumblr.com/post/182461887545/a-night-to-remember

Tonight was a Saturday night and Sweetpea was having a party down at his cabin everyone was going even kids from the north side Chic didn't know anybody in Riverdale that well except for Betty and his mother he walks downstairs dressed he grabs his bike keys Alice is reading by the fireplace "where are you going, sweetie?' he stops in his tracks " uh to a party down by pops" she nods "have fun sweetheart" he walks out hopping on his bike putting his helmet on he drives off as he did Betty and Veronica walk outside also heading to the party veronica looks towards Betty "who was That?" Betty rolls her eyes "nobody important let's get to the party" She sighs.

Veronica and Betty walk into the party to the party together dressed up in their party outfits Betty didn't even know why she was there but Veronica had dragged her there "come on Betty loosen up, have some fun for once in your life"  Betty rolls her eyes and sighs she had no intention of loosening up ever, the place she wanted to be right now was in her room studying and Reading her books" I'm gonna go look for Jughead I'm sure he's here". Veronica nods "suit yourself " she walks around to the back and outside where there are lots of girls in the pool messing around she rolls her eyes "dumb bimbos" she whispers to herself she goes over to the snack table where she sees Reggie.  He smirked at her in kind of a friendly way which was odd because he always flirted with her "well well well look who it is the north side princess" she looks at him annoyed "Excuse me? you know what never mind what do you want Reggie?" he rolls his eyes "nothing I'm just surprised to see you here" she looks at him "so your a northsider too and your here "yeah only cause I got dragged here " he explains.  she drinks the punch "and who is it that dragged you here?" he sighs drinking a beer "not that its any of your business but someone like..my girlfriend..." she chokes on her punch "yeah right who in the right mind would date you? she's probably really easy anyway" she smirks as she starts to walk away thinking she won but he grabs her arm a little tight "don't talk about her that way you don't even know her" he lets go and walks in the other direction.

Veronica walks into the other side of the cabin where there were lots of snacks and the weird kids who didn't talk much were sitting around chilling she sees Betty and Jughead together "hey are you guys staying here I think I'm gonna head out" Betty nods "okay yeah go ahead without me I'm gonna stay for a bit". Veronica Leaves the party she heads across the street to pops lit shop she walks inside so should cool down with a milkshake pop smiles "hey kiddo What will it be?" she sighs "a chocolate milkshake like usual pop" he nods "you got it, kid," he walks into the back to make it. while she waits Veronica looks around she turns her head to the corner of the shop where she sees her ex-boyfriend Archie sitting at a booth with a beautiful brunette  girl they only broke up a week ago she was over him but somehow it still hurt a little especially the way he looked at her.

Veronica hopes they don't notice her as she sat on the other side of pops, soon enough pops Brings her chocolate shake " here you go, kid, it on the house" she nods Thanking him she looks back in his direction thinking "was I not good enough for him? did I do something wrong?" she turns around sipping her shake thinking more "were they together for months? has he been seeing her behind my back?" she hated that thought that Archie had cheated on her she needed to stop thinking about him they were over now.  Archie soon walked out without even noticing veronica, she puts money on the counter walking out the back door. she couldn't believe it he found someone else, someone prettier, skinner and probably smarter than her how could she ever compete with that?  Veronica starts walking back to the cabin as she had forgotten her purse.

she gets inside and looks around she goes upstairs to get some air and calm down she walks into a bedroom seeing Reggie and a redhead making out the girl quickly jumps up and off Reggie once she heard the door open veronica sees who it is.

Veronica drops her jaw shocked at who Reggie was talking about "are you fucking insane you cannot date Archie's little sister!" Reggie grabs her arm "get out now you saw nothing " Veronica pulls away from him "yeah that's bullshit!", Gracie looks towards Veronica "can i talk to you alone for a second.." she grabs her hand pulling her into the bathroom she shuts the door. Veronica looks at her still in complete shock "Him? Really!? Have you gone completely insane!?" Gracie sighs crossing her arms "it's not what you think",  Veronica looks at her sassy "It's not what I think?!  Grace, sweet sweet, naive Grace... Your tongue was literally down his throat!!  You know the same guy that bashes girls and is sexiest oh and is a neanderthal that plays football in his spare time"

Gracie crosses her arms "say what you think but you don't know him like I do" she walks out of the bathroom. Veronica rolls her eyes looking into the mirror touching up her makeup she decides this time she's leaving the party she walks downstairs about to leave everyone is about to play a game it was 7 minutes in heaven she decided to stay maybe she could get over Archie by meeting somebody new. She looks at everyone and sits down in the circle ready to play whatever game they were which was obviously 7 minutes in heaven, "so who's going first?" Veronica looks around the circle smirking, Cheryl smiles exited to start the game "ill start" she grabs the bottle and spins it around and it of course land on Kevin Keller, she rolls her eyes "fuck". Sweetpea laughs "Don't worry Cheryl you don't have too. who's next?" Everyone looks around not knowing who would go next Cheryl turns her attention towards Veronica "Veronica why don't you go" she smirked in a bitchy way.

Veronica scuffs "fine, whatever i will" she spins the bottle fast it lands on a skinny but handsome blonde  guy she looks up at him he looked so familiar but she just didn't know who it was all she knew right now is that she wanted to get the thought of Archie out of her head she didn't want to think about anything right now. The Guy stood up willing to do anything at this point he walked over the Veronica holding his hand out to help her up "you coming or what?" he says with a quiet tone, she sighed taking his hand standing up "i suppose.." They both walk into the closet together as they walk all the way inside Sweetpea shuts and locks the door he talks to them from the other side "oh...did I mention this is an hour in heaven not seven minutes!?" he laughs walking away.

Veronicas eyes go big "wait what!?" she groans "well i guess we're stuck in here for an hour thanks to Sweetpea" The blonde boy rolls his eyes " and this is why i don't come to serpent parties anymore" he says sarcastically as he looks around looking for a light switch he finds one and flips it on the closet is bigger than most he sees a pillow and lays it on the floor to sit down. She looks at him recognizing him from the photo that Betty had showed her "Oh..my..god! your chic" he rolls his eyes "that's me and your the New York princess.." she sits next to him "this is my worst nightmare i can't believe this is happening" he pulls out his cigarettes "well I'm sorry I'm such a nightmare he says sarcastically. Veronica sighed "I didn't mean it like that...look we should just make this situation better.." he directs his attention her way "what do you mean you don't want to know me I'm sure Betty has probably told you about me before..how I'm not really her brother and how I'm a stalker" he looks down.

Veronica sighs "well..what do you want people to think of you?" He Scuffs "why do you care?" she looks up at him "well..maybe I don't.. but you might find out if you talk to me" Chic stands up "listen I've dealt with your kind before and I know you only care about yourself" he stands up walking around the room a little. Veronica starts feeling an overwhelming feeling like everything was getting to be too much, she feels the walls closing in on her, she starts talking to herself to calm down. Chic looks in her direction "what are you doing?", she stands up walking back and forth "nothing I'm fine" she says as she was starting to panic he grabs her arm stopping her "you have trouble and small spaces don't you?" he starts rubbing her back and talking to her in a calming tone "Just think of your happy place okay?"

Veronica tries to think of anything Archie pops into her mind so she starts panicking more and more she starts to find it harder and harder to breathe, Chic tries to think of something anything that would help the raven-haired girl he remembers reading online he starts to hesitate "look at me" She looks at him but still in panic she finds herself staring at his Beautiful Crystal blue eyes she starts to calm down a little bit he helps her sit down as she was now calmer "Are you okay now?" he asks "yea...yeah don't worry" she wipes her tears away not wanting to show weakness "I'm sorry ... I hate when that happens". He looks into her eyes "you can't be in small spaces can you?" she goes silent not saying another word.

Chic nudges her " come on aren't you gonna say anything else or are you just gonna stay silent for an hour?" She sighs she just wanted to get out of there ". I never told anyone about me being claustrophobic I never could tell anyone in New York people are very judgy they would have never let me live it down" she looks down he gets a look of surprise on his face "is new York really all that cruel and judgy".  She nods " not necessarily, no.."  she looks up at him Gazing into his eyes "if you're like me your friends are all rich. they don't like you for  you only for your money if anyone in my 'status' had a mental illness appear had a panic attack or just sad over something reasonable they'd be the one to never let you forget it and maybe not everyone in New York is awful but the ones I met were ". he nods understanding what it felt like "I get it I know that feeling.. of not fitting in besides what everyone says about me is true ..it is.. and you know it too" she shakes her head "come on..no its not" he shakes his head no "and how would you know that?" she scoots closer to him "because ..you saved me".

Chic nods becoming silent he gazed into her eyes once again like every second she couldn't help but gaze into his as well she somehow was getting lost,  he breaks the silence "what?" she swallows getting all nervous "uh..um nothing" He shook his head "no tell me" he puts his hand on hers, she blushes brushing her hair back behind her ear " Your eyes their..really pretty.." she smiles some then looks down. He Removes his right hand from her hand and puts it on her cheek leaning in and kissing her passionately which made Veronica feel something that she's never felt before. Veronica kisses back hoping he felt the same way towards her that she was feeling towards him, he moves his hand down to her hips kissing her more.  Chic pulls away for a second getting all nervous "uhmmm..that was.." she smiles blushing "really good" He smirks "really?"  He kisses her once again but this time pulling her closer she smirks as he was getting more comfortable. They both suddenly hear cop cars outside the closet door suddenly opens Veronica gets down "I wonder what's going on down there" Chic takes her hand as they walk out Sweetpea walks past them "everyone leaves the cops are here!"

Chic rolls her eyes "there is no way I'm getting arrested" He pulls her to the back door of the cabin they leave through the back gate one of the cops spot them Chic panics "RUN!" they both start running down the street and the cops give up by the time they get to pops they walk inside she laughs "OK ow ow" she sits down to take off her heals "that was such a rush I've never had fun like that ever!" Chic smirks and goes to the counter "one vanilla and ...chocolate please" he says taking a guess. Ben smiles "you got it", Chic sits down at the booth. Veronica smiles at him "so how did you know I liked chocolate?" he nods "easy I didn't I just took a lucky guess she bites her lip a little "any way that was fun running away from the cops I've never felt anything like that in my life" Chic nods "really? not that I like to do it a lot I've always enjoyed that feeling of getting away with something".

Meanwhile, at the Cabin, Betty was still there looking around for Veronica since she was her ride, she walks upstairs seeing Reggie "Hey Reggie, do you know where Veronica went?" He smirks taking the chance to sell Veronica out "in fact I do she left with-" Gracie interrupts "she left with this Thin blonde guy I didn't get his name" Betty looks at them both "are you guys hiding something?" Gracie and Reggie "nope hiding nothing okay we should go..." They both walk downstairs.

Chic and Veronica have now finished their shakes she smiles they both haven't talked in like five minutes Chic once again breaks the silence "so why don't we go to my little secret place in the woods.." Veronica's eyes grow wide "um excuse me?" he chuckles a bit "sorry that...sounded..I have a treehouse that I stay at sometimes why don't we go there.." she nods liking the idea of being anywhere but at home "sure let's go". They head out and start walking to the treehouse once they get deep into the woods it starts pouring down rain her heel suddenly gets caught in the rain she screams and falls he looks behind her seeing her stuck he help her up she winces "ow ow! I think I twisted my ankle" he picks her up and carries her inside the treehouse once they get inside he lays her on the couch and turns the lights on. Chic gets an ice pack out of the freezer and goes over to her putting it on her bruised ankle she sits up a little holding it there, he gets her a blanket and puts it over her "is that better?" she nods and smiles "thanks" she nodded looking around her "how did you get a huge treehouse like this?", "oh it wasn't that hard I got this place for only 500 bucks" She gets a shocked look on her face "only 500!? that's so cheap this place has like 16 bedrooms!" He chuckles "I know its a lot but I like to come here when I need to be alone "

Veronica nods "I get that sometimes I wish I had someplace like this to just be alone " he looks at her "your welcome to come by and stay here anytime you need to be alone" she smiles and kisses his cheek.

Shout-out of the Year: Kayla Lodge

#riverdale #fanfiction #fanfic #the cw #archie andrews #kj apa #veronica lodge #camila mendas #chic smith #chic cooper #charles smith #charles cooper #hart denton #archie comics #roleplayer #roleplaying

[houstonlocalus-blog]

Popular Demand: The Best of The Week

Big Business. Photo: Joyful Noise

  Now that it’s hot enough to be more mindful of where you spend your time, things are starting to look a lot like tours being routed around festivals. With performances from acts like Big Business, Reel Big Fish, and Bruce Bruce alongside locals like Astragal, George West, and D. Kosmo, it’s a pretty full week. Houston, here’s where you should spend your time over the next seven days.

  Wednesday you can begin at 8th Wonder Brewery for Guilla and iLL Faded for their tour kickoff show.  For a good while now, Guilla has been grinding hard, dropping multiple releases and getting more and more steam.  Last year’s Children of The Sun and Rap, Trap & Drums Vol. II just proved that, and his live shows are a pretty intense party from start to finish.  The same could be said about iLL Faded, who’s been hyping crowds as Fat Tony’s DJ as well as a blooming solo act.  Last year he also essentially dropped two releases with It’s OK To Be Happy and Vibes which came at the beginning of this year, while his live shows are usually the place to be and be seen.  There’s also a set from Tenney Way III for the all ages show with doors at 7 pm and no cover.

  If you’d rather get experimental, then you could head to Notsuoh for a night of experimental jams with a closing set from The They.  The electro jams of Houston’s Chin Xaou Ti Won will also perform while the synth sounds of AISENCC will also perform.  Ike Therot will also be on the bill where things kick off with ADJHEM for the Free show with doors at 8 pm.

  Roger Waters. Photo: Columbia Records

  On Thursday you could start at Toyota Center for the Us+Them tour from Roger Waters. Waters will be performing the songs of Pink Floyd, and some solo works both old and new for the immersive and state of the art show.  By all accounts, what I’ve seen of the tour, it should be a trip.  He’ll play from albums The Dark Side of The Moon, The Wall, Animals, and Wish You Were Here while adding songs from his own new album, Is This The Life We Really Want?  The all ages show has doors at 7 pm and tickets between $55 and $250.

  You can get your laugh on at Improv when Houston’s Alan Adams hosts his Couples Therapy show.  Adams, considered by many to be one of the strongest joke writers in Houston, is of course not offering any therapy, unless you count being made to look like a fool in front of your sweetie therapy.  The 18 & up shows should have plenty of laughs with doors at 7:15 pm and tickets between $15 and $25.

  The Greatest View. Photo: Andrew Hemingway

  Upstairs at White Oak Music Hall the folk pop sounds of Houston’s Motion Hotel will headline a show.  This five piece makes songs that are pretty hard to ignore, their most recent being “Savannah,” which is definitely hard to shake.  The indie rock of Anchor North will be on as direct support while the acoustic pop of Cypress’ Two Thirds will go on prior.  The ultra catchy indie pop of Houston’s The Greatest View will open the all ages show with doors at 8 pm and a Free cover for the adults, or $5 for the kids.

  Over at Mucky Duck, you wouldn’t know it when you hear her new EP Cold, but Austin’s Christina Cavazos is only 17.  With a headlining set at the landmark venue, you should find yourself falling for her intimate and endearing sound.  She’ll have the Americana twang of Nashville’s Jane Ellen Bryant on the bill with her to add to the show which shouldn’t be missed. The 21 & up evening has doors at 9:30 pm and tickets between $20 and $22.

  On Friday you can get the weekend kicked off at Improv with the world famous comedy of Bruce Bruce.  The Atlanta comic is way bigger of a deal than you may think, he sells out pretty much every show he’s on, and he’s easily one of our nation’s favorite stand-ups.  The shows should have two of Houston’s better up and coming comics on as feature act and host. There are two shows Friday, two shows Saturday, and one on Sunday.  The first Friday show has doors at 6 pm and tickets between $27.50 and $37.50.

  You can get your groove on at Warehouse Live in the ballroom for the ragga soca songs of Trinidad’s Bunji Garlin. Garlin is no slouch when it comes to songs that hit with precision and dance grooves, and his latest single “Big Bad Soca” from this year is definitely the soca jam. The hip hop of Atlanta’s T-Rock will be on as direct support while Trinidad’s Fay-Ann Lyons will go on beforehand.  Barbados’ DJ Puffy will get the all ages show started with his Caribbean jams with doors at 7 pm and tickets between $45 and $70.

  Astragal. Photo: Disha Khakeria

  Over at Walter’s, the split cassette release party from Astragal and Donna Hayward will happen, and it should be pretty amazing.  For starters, Astragal is one of the more exciting newer bands to come out of Houston, and their sound is more refined and intense on this release.  That’s not to say that Donna Hayward is any less more dynamic, as their set should be just as energetic as their catchy tunes.  The guaranteed indie rock good times of Rose Ette will also perform while the shoegaze noise of Austin’s Alexalone will open the all ages show with doors at 8 pm and a $10 cover.

  Rudyard’s has a pretty intriguing show when they’ll have the alt rock of Houston’s Dark Spark Rays over to headline. Adding acoustic and almost meandering folk to any indie rock outfit is a daunting task, yet this band does it with ease, and reminds me of a mix of The Smiths and solo Evan Dando.  The insane psych of Bernie Pink will be on as direct support while garage pop of Such Marvelous Monsters will go on prior.  The Southern coast garage punk of Let Me Remember will open the 18 & up show with doors at 8 pm and tickets between $5 and $7.

  If you’d rather get your chiptune groove on, the Lazybit Collective will have their monthly show over at Notsuoh, this time with a headlining set from Heavy the Bluebird.  There’s also rap jams from Pajama Sam, Terrence T doe Keller, and N-8.  Of course your favorite Lazybit characters will be on hand like Ten Pixels Tall, FLOAT, OVERCRASH and more.  It’s Free with doors at 8 pm.

  The Secret Group has an intriguing show where DJ Fredster and friends will mix things up called Clusterfuck. Multiple genres just spinning to make you get down while Brandon Duhon of Night Drive will be on hand to drop jams alongside DJ Poppers and more.  The 21 & up show is free with doors at 9:30 pm.

  Lightnin’ Malcolm. Photo: Continental Club

  Over at Continental Club, the enigmatic and guitar slinging roots sounds of Mississippi’s Lightnin Malcolm will be on full display.  Sometimes a duo, sometimes a one man band, this guy throws multiple genres together to make tunes that are pretty hard not to like.  He’s rumored to have a crazy live show, and his latest release Outlaw Justice from this year is worth hearing in person.  The 21 & up show has doors at 10 pm and a $12 cover.

  On Saturday you can begin at Fuller’s Guitars in the Heights for the Punk Rock Garage Sale benefiting Christian Kidd of The Hates.  Hosted by Houston punk legends MyDolls, the event will have lots of rare items, punk memorabilia, and more.  It’s Free to attend, and it runs the bulk of the day starting at 8 am and running until 4 pm.

  George West. Photo: Marcelo Quinones

  Later on at Walter’s you can get your electronica fix when the Moving Components show happens.  Sets from George West, PLXTX, Pfaff, Gold Cherry and many more will be on hand. It should have plenty of electronic groove throughout the night for the all ages event with doors at 7 pm and $10 cover.

  Over at The Secret Group you can get your laughs in with the always funny antics of Sean Patton.  The New Orleans born comic has made quite the name for himself with appearances on Maron and Inside Amy Schumer, as well as a ton of international and national comedy festivals and his own half hour special on Comedy Central.  Two of Houston’s better up and coming comics should serve as host and feature act for the all ages show with doors at 7 pm and tickets between $12 and $15.

  Arthur Yoria. Photo: Jay Dryden Photography

  Big Top Lounge and the Pachinko Hut behind it, will host the Third Birthday Bash for Houston’s Splice Records. Aside from the fact that they have a pretty killer roster, those at Splice are some of the most genuine and kind people in the music industry, and ones that you’d want to make it out for just to say you met them.  The show will feature a headlining set from Arthur Yoria, while the bluesy sounds of Muddy Belle will go on prior.  Bayou City Funk will also be on hand and the reggae of Dem will open the 21 & up party with doors at 8 pm and a pay what you can cover, with a suggested amount of $10 to $20.

  Over at Continental Club, the swamp boogie of Pure Luck will be on full display.  The rotating cavalcade that includes Jeff Pinkus of Butthole Surfers is pretty epic. Their debut album which is like a groove heavy twang fueled ride, Pure Luck is definitely as strong as these guys are live. The one man band intensity of D Kosmo will get the show started with plenty of trippy sounds and visuals for the 21 & up show with doors around 8:30 pm and a $12 cover.

  Sunday at White Oak Music Hall downstairs you could relive your nineties youth with the SoCal ska of Reel Big Fish.  Known for the hit song “Sell Out,” these guys have been going pretty strong since the early nineties.  The reggae ska punk of The Expendables will be on as direct support while the punk of The Queers will get the all ages show with doors at 5 pm started with tickets between $29 and $34.

  Megadeth. Photo: Live Nation

  Over at Revention Center, the metal speed of Megadeth will be around to get the head banging going.  These guys have been going hard since the early eighties, their live shows are pretty intense, and with records like Peace Sells…But Who’s Buying, they’re pretty hard to deny.  Last year’s Dystopia was a return to form, and just proves they don’t plan on slowing down anytime soon either.  The Swedish metal of Meshuggah will be on as direct support while Brittain’s TesseracT will open the all ages show with doors at 5:30 pm and tickets between $45 and $65.

  On Tuesday you could head to Warehouse Live for another edition of The Moth Story Hour. This time the theme of the stories is Beauty, and should make for an interesting theme.  The all ages event has doors at 6:30 pm, seating is limited, and there’s a $10 cover.

  At Walter’s possibly one of the best bands going, LA’s Big Business will be in town to headline a set.  This two piece, stronger than many four and five piece bands, is one of the best live bands you can catch, and their latest release Command Your Weather is like nothing else.  A U N T I E will provide direct support while the heavy metal loudness of Houston’s Omotai will open the all ages show with doors at 8 pm and tickets between $12 and $15.

  That’s about all that’s happening this week.  No matter what you decide to do, remember that staying hydrated and drinking like an adult is in everyone’s best interest.

Popular Demand: The Best of The Week this is a repost

[sunkissis]

I spent hours researching our trip to the land of fire and ice, one of my highest priorities was taking phenomenal photos. I signed up for a photography class and educated myself about my Nikon camera settings and lenses. I bought a new zoom lens but I needed something that would allow me a wider angle for close up shots. The problem was a $2,500 lens was not in my budget. I was so stoked to find out that Samy’s Camera rents Nikon lenses! I was able to try out different lenses for $25 bucks a day. I fell in love with a wide angle lens and bought a tripod because every person who has traveled to Iceland assured me I would need it to take photos of the Northern Lights. However the lens was large and heavy and along with two other lenses, the tripod, extra batteries, accessories and an external flash (that we never used) there was no way everything would fit into our camera bag. Antz somehow squeezed everything into his suitcase. I had to repack like ten times because my heavy boots didn’t fit and I kept going over the 44 lb weight maximum.

This was just one of the ten outfits I packed. I bought thermal leggings from Amazon and wore layers everyday because even on windy rainy days, I was sweating from all the hiking. I had the hardest time finding the right coat to wear in Iceland. I did not want a puffy coat because they don’t look so great on me and they only come in boring colors. I ended up finding a fantastic white wool coat from Asos on sale for like $73! It was so warm and I was the brightest person in Reykjavik.

  Making it rain in Icelandic Kronas! I found the best currency exchange place located in our new bank in Glendale.

The first day of our trip went surprisingly seamless. I may sound like a broken record but I strongly recommend flying with Wow Airlines. I will say, their gate at LAX was kinda lame and it felt like we walked for miles to get there. However they are a fairly new airline to LAX, so they don’t have a lounge area to wait in yet. Since we arrived so early and didn’t want to stand or sit on the floor for an hour, we waited in the nearby Virgin Atlantic area. Luckily, we saw the Wow crew walking by so we knew it was almost time to board. Other than that, everything was great. We had the sweetest flight attendants (ours looked like Margot Robbie) and the pilots invited Liv into the cockpit when we landed. The plane was clean and the seats had more room in coach than other airlines I’ve flown. There are only two seats for the window row so Antz had to sit across from us in the middle. All flights from Los Angeles arrive in Reykjavik at 4 am so that is something you need to plan for if you are checking into a hotel. We had a full day planned so it worked to our advantage.

Our Uber driver was a little crazy, he followed the weirdest route to LAX which took us on a journey through the back alleys of downtown but we made it on time! LAX is one of my favorite places in Los Angeles. The TSA line is always miserable but there has been improvements on the design of the international terminal.

Once we made it through the lines of agony, we did some pre-flight shopping at Fred Segal. Then we picked up a light breakfast of pastries.

Can someone please buy these for my next trip??!!

Most folks seem to have a problem when it comes to traveling with young kids but honestly, Liv has been our lucky rabbits foot. We get to board the plane first, the flight attendants absolutely love her which gets us perks and she’s a pleasure to travel with. It’s true, the earlier you travel with your kids, the more open-minded and exposed they become.

Fortunately no one sat next to Antz so he had plenty of room to spread out.

I love that we can give our daughter the gift of travel and a proclivity for adventure. As we were flying over Canada, I felt so grateful that we could afford to take this trip instead of putting it off for “one day“.

Liv ate an entire box of rice crispy treats. Don’t forget to pack plenty of snacks and water, nothing on this flight is free!

I waited my whole life to see the incredible Northern Lights. The week before we arrived in Iceland, they had the most vivid and clear Northern Lights in recent history. The government shut down all the lights in Reykjavik so people could view them better. I tracked the weather and the nightly skies on this website everyday until our trip. I slept during most of the flight but I did wake up and happened to look out the window. That sad green smear you see above is the Northern Lights. I tried and failed to take a photo with my rented lens because it was impossible to take a shot while we were moving and the glass from the window wasn’t allowing my camera to auto focus. When I took the photography class I specifically asked about taking photos at night and the key is to use a slow shutter speed, which means using a tripod. Every shot I have seen of the northern lights look like this…

That early morning was the only Northern Lights we were able to see because clouds came in with our flight and obscured the sky for the whole week. The Liz curse strikes again!

You wanna hear another great story? I booked our car rental back in July. I went ahead and splurged on an SUV with a snow package and all the extra insurance I could buy just in case. My friend Christina recommended getting a portable WiFi box so we will have coverage. I also got a navigation system even though the last time I rented a car in London, it didn’t work. So, I was pretty covered for our rental which totaled close to $800 for the week. I was promised to get a BMW X3 SUV or similar. This is what I got and believe me when I say, I acted like a disgusting, entitled American and threw a tantrum when I saw this Opal whatever it is. The chick at the rental place was like, “Bitch…you can walk.” So, here’s my Icelandic $800 pimped out ride. Well, at least it had a heated steering wheel.

The only place to eat that was open at 6am was disappointing Subway. Yet, after a long flight, we were starving so it was good to have something familiar. I got the “Cool American” flavor Doritos. It was insane that the sun doesn’t rise until 9 am. It was pitch black at 8 in the morning.

Guess those snow tires I paid for came in handy. They chilled in the trunk for the whole week. I think I could have been happier with the car if it was white. What color is this, depressing beige?

It was freezing by the time we arrived at the Blue Lagoon. I was worried we wouldn’t be able to enjoy the visit because of how cold it was outside.

The Blue Lagoon was breath-taking. It was cold but once you’re in the water, it’s lovely. Now I was glad I paid for all of our extra luggage because I brought our aqua sock water shoes. Bare feet in public spaces is my phobia! There is an indoor entrance in the water so you don’t have to walk outside in the cold. Kids under 8 are required to wear floaties but the water level was shallow enough for Liv to stand on her tippy toes.

Really, best day ever!! You must bring a GoPro to the lagoon. iPhones won’t cut it.

So surreal, it was so warm and beautiful. And we only had been in Iceland for five hours.

After a quick shower, we were back on the road, headed to our hotel for the first night. I booked the iconic Ion Luxury Hotel for our first night in Iceland because it is located in the middle of nowhere. Like, so much so that they don’t even have an traditional address. Of course, our rental’s navigation system took us an hour out of the way to get there. We were the only car driving on an endless stretch of road so I was pretty nervous we would get lost. Luckily, Iceland has awesome maps on the side of the roads for us clueless tourists. They are so thoughtful. I first read about the impressive hotel when it was featured in Afar magazine. It is known for being one of the best hotels for viewing the Northern Lights. Since it has the word luxury in the name, you know it’s expensive and also sold out even six months in advance. I must have called to make reservations every damn day until finally three weeks before our trip, they found a room for me. I was elated because this meant we could go to their beautiful Northern Lights bar and sit by the floor to ceiling windows to see the Northern Lights. It never occurred to me there would be a week of cloudy skies but we enjoyed our night at the hotel anyway.

This river was boiling hot. Iceland, you so crazy! There is steam coming from power plants all over Iceland. People who live there never have to pay to heat their water. Energy is also dirt cheap because they power mostly everything from steam.

Let me say, this hotel is unique and off the beaten track. It definitely had a James Bond sexy vibe to it. We were told that helicopter belonged to one of the guests, fancy! The Silfra restaurant is so reknown that tourists are bussed in from Reykjavik. We didn’t think to make a reservation since we were staying at the hotel and they almost couldn’t accommodate us.

A cool thing about the water in Iceland, it’s 100% from the natural springs. Iceland has the purest water on the planet so you can actually drink from the shower, the faucets or even the ground. We went to a store and tried to buy bottled water and the woman was like “No, you go to the hotel and fill up your water bottle from the tap!” Honestly, the best water I have ever tasted. It felt nice to take a long hot shower and not feel guilty about a drought.

We arrived at the hotel about noon but our room wasn’t ready yet so we hung out in the lobby. Our jet lag set in and we ended up falling asleep. I know I was snoring! When our room was ready, we had just enough time to change our clothes for our horseback riding tour. We booked a private tour through the hotel so a nice girl named Hannah picked us up and drove us to her family’s farm.

The two hours was over in an instant. It rained lightly but the sun peeked out. The horses were incredible, I was Snapchatting and taking photos most of the time so my horse was like “Ok, lady I guess I’ll control myself.”

When we got back to the hotel, we were starving. Silfra restaurant was packed. The hotel only has 24 rooms but there were booked for dinner. Iceland’s specialty is seafood and lamb but we had amazing sushi too. I used my charm to get us a table even though they require reservations. This was our most expensive meal during the trip.

OMG! This langoustine was heaven. Antz loved his seafood soup. Liv’s burger was meh.

After a quick FaceTime with my BFF, Aimee we went straight to bed. I’m actually relieved the Northern Lights weren’t out that night because it felt like we were awake for 24 hours straight so off to bed we went. It was incredibly hard to wake up early for our next long day.

Iceland Day One I spent hours researching our trip to the land of fire and ice, one of my highest priorities was taking phenomenal photos.