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#i started the next page so many times and i just never found my rhythm
janmenart · 6 months
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Since it’s been quite a long time and I saw what you said about losing files I assume the “Screw Governor Kalen” comic is over; but I wanted to just say I really love what you did make!!! The water color pages were so gorgeous!!!! And I love all the TAZ art you’ve made in general 💗💗💗 Thank you for making it c:
man 😭😭😭 I wish I had the time to dedicate to continuing it, but with college finishing up, creative projects, and me taking a job at a Middle School as a full-time art teacher, it's just gotten pushed further and further to the back-burner. Maybe one day I'll do like. an illustrated fic of the whole thing just to wrap it up because I swear I had a whole ending planned out scripting just takes so much time i don't have.
I'm glad yall liked it and its still being talked about all these years later!
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nightfang22 · 7 months
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Kinktober Day 1:"Let me see those eyes."
A/N:I'm so so sorry I'm late to my Kinktober start but here's the first one featuring our boy Simon Kelleher!It might be slow to post but I'm working hard I promise!Thank you all so much for the love and support you guys show me and my work!Enjoy and feel free to send in requests for certain characters!
Warnings:Minors DNI,18+,Smut
Pairing:Simon Kelleher x fem!Autistic!reader
Word Count:1.8k
As someone with autism, I struggled with eye contact a lot. I've been trying to get better at holding it for longer periods of time but nothing seemed to be working. I sigh in frustration as I scribble something down in my notepad. Janae looked over at me and tilted her head to the side, tapping my notepad with the eraser of her pencil a couple times to get my attention. "You okay? You seem frustrated. Like more than usual." I take a deep breath through my nose as I look up at her and try to look at her eyes. I manage it for a few seconds but it doesn't last long. She quickly notices and I can see the sad smile on her face as she drums her pencil on her desk. "Hey, it's okay. You'll get the hang of it at some point and even if you don't, it doesn't matter. You don't need to push yourself too hard, okay?" I chew on the end of my pencil as I stare down at the notepad, slightly rocking back and forth. My eyes flit across the paper as I try to focus on my homework but my mind is wandering elsewhere. I'm completely understimulated and I can't make myself focus on German grammar and pronunciation like this. The only sounds filling my ears are the soft scratching of my fingers against my nails as I pick at them and Janae's gentle tapping of her pencil against paper. I chew at my bottom lip and pick at my nails in rhythm with Janae's tapping until a hand grabbing mine and spreading out my fingers to stop me from picking at my nails grabs my attention. I look up at my eyes melt instantly at the sight of familiar cool brown eyes. I smile softly before averting my gaze. My hand sits in his as he takes a seat across from Janae, next to me. His hand was warm and slightly calloused from all the hours spent learning different instruments on a whim. I smile and relish in the familiar and comfortable sensation. Simon is my person. Hopefully my forever person. He squeezed my hand softly before leaning over to whisper in my ear. "Hey, you seem frustrated. You wanna get out of here? Take a break?" I think he sees the thankful look in my eyes before I even connect them to his while nodding because he grabs my bag for me and looks to Janae. "We're gonna go get some air. We'll see you later." Janae just rolls her eyes and flips the page of her notepad before waving goodbye, not looking up. His hand never leaves mine as I keep my eyes on the ground in front of me while we walk, watching my shoes move forward mostly.
The light of the sunshine makes my eyes sting before Simon pulls his hand away and slips his sunglasses over my eyes. I sigh contentedly at the relief from the harsh light on my eyes. He takes my hand once again and leads me off campus to his car, a cute little bug. Simon adores that car almost more than he adores me. He opens the passenger door for me just as he does every morning before school when he picks me up. I set my bag down in the floorboard and climb in, flipping down the visor to block out the sun. He hands me my headphones when he sits down and I place them over my ears. I can still hear him speak but I can't hear any of the noise outside of traffic or kids laughing. I lean my head back on the headrest as Simon starts the car and pulls out of the parking lot. His arm reaches behind my headrest as he turns to look behind him. After he puts the car in drive he places his hand on my upper thigh which is exposed by my checkered skirt. His hand has a slight reassuring grip on my thigh as he drives. To where, I'm not sure. I've found it more comforting in all the time I've known Simon to not ask too many questions. Eventually we pull into his driveway and he unbuckles my seat belt for me. He comes around the car, opening my door for me and grabbing my bag before lacing my fingers with his and leading me inside. His mom is at the office today and his dad is out golfing like usual. He leads me up the stairs and into his room which is surprisingly clean for a teenage boy. He sets my bag down as I take a seat in his desk chair after discarding my shoes by the door. My knees are pressed together and I'm just staring off into the distance when he comes over, kneeling down in front of me. He tilts my chin up so I can look him in the face. My eyes avert to the side almost immediately when he sighs before smiling softly in my peripherals. "Well, I think I know how to fix this."
I look at him with a confused expression when he picks me up and my legs wrap around his waist. I squeal before clinging to him. I have a fear of my feet leaving the ground and Simon knows this. I bury my face in his neck as he walks over to his bed, setting me down. He crawls over me before taking my wrists and pinning them above my head, lacing his fingers in mine to hold them there. I can only manage to look at his mouth as he speaks. "Now, we're gonna try something okay? You know the safe word. Say it for me, pretty girl." I lick my lips as my eyes very briefly meet his as I speak. "Down." He smiles at me and nods before leaning down to trail kisses up my neck and kissing my jaw. He reaches my ear and whispers, "That's right. Now you're gonna be a good girl for me, yeah?" I can only manage a nod as my breathing becomes shallow as I take in the sensations he's leaving all across my skin. He kisses up my jaw and places kisses all over my cheeks and my nose before finally connecting our lips. His lips are soft and sweet. He always tastes like mint and candy. I moan quietly against his lips as he lets go of my right wrist just to hold both of them in his one hand so he can move the other down my body. He slides his hand across my thigh and up my skirt. He pulls away leaving my lips slightly swollen and kiss bruised. He pulls away and smiles down at me devilishly like he always does in these moments before pulling my skirt up, letting go of my wrists. He moves down and slides his fingers over my clothed heat. I bite my lip and whimper. His warm breath meets the wet spot on my panties sending a shiver down my spine causing me to arch my back slightly. This does not go unnoticed by Simon and I can almost feel the grin on his face as he places a kiss to my clit through my pastel purple thong. He hooks a finger in my underwear on each side before sliding it down my plush thighs and tossing it across the room to be found by their maid sometime later. He places a hand on each of my thighs firmly before spreading my legs and getting comfortable. Simon kisses up my inner thighs before placing a kiss to my clit and dragging his tongue up my entrance, tasting the mess he's caused. I gasp as he sucks my clit harshly into his mouth making my back arch. My hands fly into his soft dark hair and tug as he continues his attack on my sensitive bundle of nerves. The noises falling from my mouth are down right sinful as he eats me out like it's his last meal. My eyes are shut tight as my teeth sink into my bottom lip so harsh I'm almost certain it'll start bleeding. It doesn't take much longer for the knot in my stomach to untie and a whine of ecstasy to leak out of my throat.
He licks up every last drop and comes up for air only a moment later, wiping his face. He strips himself of his jeans and pulls off his shirt, tossing both aside while kicking off his underwear. He crawls over me once again, lining himself up at my entrance before grabbing my hand, placing it on his cheek and kissing my palm. This was almost a ritualistic action. He does it every time before he stretches me out on his cock. Inch by inch, his dick fills me up and a breathless gasping sound escapes me. Simon wasn't small by any means. How does that song go? Right.
'It might not look like he gets bitches but honey that dick was 11 inches.'
My eyes water slightly and Simon kisses my tears away, letting me adjust. After I nod, I expect him to move but he doesn't. "It's okay. You can move now." My eyes are still shut when I feel his hands on my face causing me to open my eyes and look at his throat. "I'll move but you have to keep your eyes up here. Every time you look away I'll stop." My eyes widen. I get it now. I nod but my eyes are still on his throat. He thrusts deep and hard inside me. "What did I just say?" I make eye contact and his face is so kind and sincere that I can't help but keep my eyes on his before he starts moving, his thrusts soft and sweet before picking up pace. I feel my eyes fall shut before he abruptly stops. My eyes snap open and he smirks. "What? You thought I was joking?" He snaps his hips into mine to punctuate his point.
"Let me see those eyes, pretty girl."
My eyes stay attached to his as he thrusts roughly in and out of me. My fingernails sink into his back as I whine and moan, all but screaming out his name like he was some holy deity. His thrusts begin to get sloppy as my cunt clenches around him before butterfly fluttering in orgasm. His eyes never stray from mine and I feel my heart race. This is the longest I've ever held someone's gaze and my cheeks get warm with the realization. I feel his hips stutter as his cheeks flush while he fills me to the brim with his seed, holding his position with his cock fully sheathed inside me to the hilt. His thumb strokes my cheek as he moves to kiss my forehead. He slowly pulls out but not before he quietly whispers an 'I love you so much, princess.'
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barsformars · 2 months
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A Little More
//
g - fluff
p - jongho x gn!reader
w.c - 1.2k
t.w - none
a.n - i wrote this back in 2020??? i found it in my notion drafts so i edited it a lil bit and decided to post it (i dont think ive posted this? i couldnt find it on my page)
//
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You tapped your feet impatiently to a made-up rhythm in your head, constantly glancing up at the clock hanging on the wall right behind your teacher. Urgh, class was supposed to end 16 minutes ago.
"Are we going to miss it?" Jongho turned to ask even though he had already guessed that judging from the way you were acting.
"If she doesn't stop talking right now," you leaned in slightly and replied softly, not wanting to get caught talking in class. That would just mean getting held back a little longer than you would like to. "Gosh, I'm not even absorbing an-“
You pause at the sudden quietness of the classroom, looking up to see Ms Kang with her arms folded across her chest. Uh-oh.
But before she even has a chance to call the both of you out, Jongho raises his hand, making up a lie on the spot as an excuse. "Sorry, they were explaining a question to me!" He nudges you with his elbow, which was your cue to apologise as well so that Ms Kang would just get over it.
"Alright, but next time don't discuss while I'm speaking. Got it?"
"Yep!" You rolled your eyes playfully at your table partner, he has a way of always getting out of trouble. It was just impossible for anyone to dislike him, and all the grown-ups just absolutely adore him.
Thankfully for the both of you (and everybody else), Ms Kang decided that there was no point in carrying on the lesson any further. She said that everyone looked 'too dead on the inside' which wasn't not true at all. It's just the case when school had started as early as 7.30 in the morning, only ending now at 5pm (or rather 5.20pm).
You stuffed all your belongings into your bag hurriedly before helping Jongho with his. Why does he always have a pile of loose notes and books under his table? Now, if it wasn't for how early the sunsets were nowadays now that it’s winter, you wouldn't be rushing him. You never liked pressuring anyone in any way.
"If we miss it today, we can just catch it tomorrow or whenever, you know." It wasn't that Jongho didn't like you rushing him, in fact, he doesn't mind it at all. He just rather not see you stressing over something so minor so unnecessarily.
Jongho had a point, but you really wanted to see the sunset today for whatever reason. Or actually there were many reasons. You know how there's always one week in the month where the sunsets just hit different from the other days? That's what you have observed at least, even if you didn't have any scientific information to back it up or prove that was really the case. Anyways, to put it short, the sunsets recently have been extra pretty and if you don't catch it today, you'll have to wait another month. Why? You have classes that extend way past 5 o'clock starting tomorrow.
And besides, you couldn’t wait any longer. As curious as you were hopeful, you really wanted to know who Jongho had caught feelings for. He promised he would tell you on a day the sunset is exceptionally beautiful.
"We still have a little more time left," you said, not bothering to explain your thoughts to Jongho. It's too much effort to try and properly formulate your thoughts into coherent sentences.
"Alright, let's go then." Without any warning, Jongho takes hold of your wrist, pulling you along with him as the both of you ran down the hallway, then the 8 flights of stairs and finally to the open field at the back of the campus.
After all the panting and gasping for air, you tilted your head upwards only to be greeted by light grey clouds filling up the sky. The golden rays of the sunset were barely peeking out from the back despite it extending out like roots greedy for nutrients in the soil.
You pulled your phone out of your pocket and checked the time, hoping that maybe this was only the starting and not the end. "They say the sun sets in 6 minutes, so I guess we just wait?" You suggested, already seated on the floor before Jongho could process your words.
He remained standing, looking down at you with narrowed eyes. There was definitely something wrong with whatever you had just said but Jongho couldn't tell if he or you were the stupid one here. "I think that means the sky goes dark then, no? Like when the sun completely sets....." His voice trails off as you tugged at the sleeve of his uniform to get him to sit down as well.
"I don't know, but no harm in waiting just a little while more."
"I guess," Jongho said with a shrug of his shoulders.
But a lot of things can happen in just a little while. For example, Jongho might just muster up a little more courage in this peaceful silence to confess his feelings for you. And in this little while, an amazing friendship could very possibly end, unless you saw him as a little more than only a friend.
Jongho decides not to take the risk just yet; there's no harm in waiting just a little while more. Just a little more, when he can be a little more sure of your feelings as well.
"What's with this weird atmosphere?" You joked, an attempt to ignore how fast your heart was racing right now. Lucky for Jongho, you were too busy calming yourself down that you missed the way his body immediately tensed up at your question.
"Uhm, I'm guessing that's-" Jongho points up at the sky that was very far from spectacular-"all today's sunset has to offer." That wasn't the best way to break the awkward silence but oh well...
"Can we wait 5 more minutes?" You had almost lost all hope at this point but you never know what might happened in the next few minutes. Maybe Jongho would finally decide to let you in on his crush's identity as he had promised. Because if he doesn't, then you might. And if it so happens that your feelings for him aren't reciprocated, you were only going to burden him with your feelings. You don't want that, but right now you're barely holding yourself back. "Do you even remember what you promised me?"
"The thing about my crush?"
"Mhmm..."
"Yea, I remember. But today's sunset isn't it." Jongho sighed as he leaned back on his hands, staring up at the now dark sky. "Just wait a little while more."
"Well, but I don't want to miss the timing just like we did with the sunset today so I'll just say it." Your voice was shakier but in no way more timid than usual, perhaps it was the adrenaline that was rushing through your veins right now. Because right now, you couldn't care less about the weight and consequences of your words.
"Choi Jongho, I really like you a lot."
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a-earthssprout · 1 year
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🥀🍯 QUALITY OF … EXPERIENCE? UPDATES. hello, my dear friends ! 🌼 I hope everyone has had a pleasant start to their week 😊 I know it has been a minute since I’ve responded to anything on here, & the short explanation as to why is … my mother was home for two weeks & it severely threw off my rhythm 😭 I had no peaceful mornings to enjoy in solitude, which are the hours that tend to be my best time to write. acknowledging that it would only be frustrating to keep trying to push through & get things down on the paper, I decided to do what I could, since there was much outside of writing that needed to be done on Ari’s blog 🌷 now, I unfortunately did not get everything done that I had hoped to by this time, & some of these goals are still in progress—but the blog is in a much cleaner & organized state than it was before this winter break ! 😊
to not fill the dash with useless information ( as I often tend to do incessant rambling 😅 ), I shall place the updates that may be most important to others first. you will find all things ‘ trivial ’ beneath the cut 🌿
MY RULES HAVE BEEN UPDATED. old information has been updated & new information has been added to align best with the way I currently run my blog 📚 I’ve adjusted some areas that had poor flow, removed anything that sounded redundant or repetitive, & corrected the many errors that I found within the page. the only new section added to my rules is the ‘ accessibility & accommodations ’ section. while it is not required that my rules are looked over by any who are already mutuals with me, you are free to take a look if this section—or anything else previously mentioned—is of interest to you ! 🌼
ARI’S ICON STYLE. she’s got a new one, & how lovely are they ? 😊 I am not done with them all just yet—I’ve had to edit them by hand, & I’m very close to finishing all folders 👀—but I think they look absolutely precious … I’m very excited to use them ! ( I’ve also found this process to be most inspiring for muse, oddly enough ? 🤔 )
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ASK & ABOUT HEADERS. precious Stella / @theircurse back at it with her remarkable talent once more ! 🌼 Ari now has adorable headers & matching dividers for her ask & about posts. as to not make this post exceptionally long above the cut, you shall see them the next time I post a little something about Ari or answer a fun ask ! 🌷
AN UPDATE TO THE WAY I RUN THE ASK BOX. the ask box will no longer be closed, & I will rarely ever close it again in the future. I have decided to handle the ask box differently from the way I had been doing so before. as you all very well know, I am not fast 😅 I tend to take many moons to answer things, & though I have never received a complaint from any mutual about my reply speed, it is never not a worry in my mind 😔 I do think that ask memes serve as wonderful icebreakers for new interactions, & I now feel that closing my ask box limits the opportunity that newer mutuals have to start something with me. I intend to go through my asks at my own pace, however, but I feel like this decision will help new things get started ! 🍃additionally, my meme tag has now been linked to Ari’s pinned post ! 😊
I AM SLOWLY GOING THROUGH & RESPONDING TO DM’S. to those who have been patient with me & my slowness, thank you so very much ! 🌻 I am trying to answer everything that has been waiting for a response. I have made more progress than ever with this, but there are still many people that I need to reach out to—so if you haven’t heard from me yet, trust that you will soon ! 😊
OTHER UPDATES: 
added a picture of Ari to the top of her about section on her carrd. 🍃
updated my about at the bottom of the rules. 🍯
organized dm’s 
did that follower sweep / went through & unfollowed inactive / archived blogs 
learned how to crochet a bookmark … completely unrelated to the blog, but still a personal triumph 👵
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gemstone9-ao3 · 2 years
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I Don't Know What I'm Thinking 1/?
I would really prefer if you guys would read the ao3 copy of this fic but if tumblr is your better option then I understand.
Word Count: 4,478
Summary: Jimmie Snow, son of famous country singer Hank Snow, sees Elvis perform live and can't stop thinking about those crazy hip gyrations. And what Jimmie first thinks is a desire to copy, is actually just straight-up desire. THIS IS NOT A JIMMIE X ELVIS FIC -- it's just about Jimmie having a gay awakening and some possible subsequent angst.
a/n: This wasn't supposed to be my first Elvis fic, I have so many other ideas I want to write, but apparently, this is the one that made me get onto my computer. I saw some people talking about this idea in the Elvis tag and I just fell in love.
Warning: Period-typical racism and homophobia, internalized homophobia, discussion of religion in both negative and positive connotations.
Jimmie had heard different snippets of the song every time he passed a music shop or a radio. He kept wanting to stop as he heard the rhythmic beat of the guitar, but Jimmie recognized the obvious stylized voice of a negro every time the vocals began and he forced himself to move on. Jimmie didn’t want to risk a potential argument with his father over something as trivial as a catchy colored song, so he would hurry off before someone could recognize him as Hank Snow’s son.
But then the song started to show up on all the country radio stations that he and his friends would listen to. More than that, his friends didn’t seem to mind the negro beats, some of them even turned the radio up when the song came on. Hudson was the biggest supporter of the song. Hudson even wanted to buy the song on a record and was trying to convince Jimmie to lend him the money.
“Come on, man! I’ll give it back as soon as I get my next paycheck. I promise,” Hudson followed him across the carnival grounds. Jimmie was helping set up one of the tents for the show that was happening later.
“When have you ever paid me back for things I bought you?” Jimmie responded.
“I know, I know. But I really will this time. I just need this song on record. It’s become my favorite thing of all time.”
“How’s that even possible, Hud?” Jimmie was trying to shift a pole into the hole he just dug. “I thought you hated colored music?”
“Well,” Hudson paused, “I do, but this is different! Elvis Presley is a white guy who just happens to use some colored rhythms.” Jimmie yelped as he dropped the pole onto his own foot. Hudson kicked the pole away as if it would save Jimmie’s foot posthumously. “Damn Jimmie, that didn’t look pretty. You alright?” Hudson asked.
“You said he’s white?” Jimmie said incredulously, rubbing at his sore foot as he did so.
Hudson looked confused for a second, “Uh, yeah. I didn’t think so at first, but I listened to an interview he did where he talked about his high school. I looked it up in the yellow pages and it's a white school.”
That was all the information Jimmie needed to become obsessed. He bought the song on record as soon as he could so he could listen to it fully. The vocals were absolutely phenomenal, and the beat of the guitar made him want to move his body in ways he never had before. It was called “That’s Alright Little Mama”. It was originally recorded by a negro named Big Boy Crudup. Elvis Presley was a white boy from Memphis, Tennesse and he recorded the song with a label called Sun Records. Elvis was only about a year older than himself, and for reasons Jimmie couldn’t quite identify, that fact created a small warmth in the pit of his stomach.
When Jimmie found out that Elvis would be performing at the Louisiana Hayride right after him, Jimmie practiced his song incessantly. He knew, he just knew that if he did well enough, he could gain the amazing Elvis Presley’s attention. Barely anyone could pull him from practicing except his father. His band was almost ready to knock him out with how frequently he was insisting they do just one more go of it.
Throughout the entirety of the show, before he went on, Jimmie was hoping to catch sight of Elvis. Though Jimmie knew he was white, he had no other clue as to what the boy might look like. Every guy carrying a guitar set off a spark of excitement in Jimmie’s chest and being at a country music event, pretty much every guy was carrying a guitar. But Jimmie was forced to put away his nerves as the time came for his performance.
Standing in front of a crowd had always come naturally to Jimmie, especially when it came to country crowds. There was something comforting about standing in front of a humble crowd of country folk that made Jimmie feel like he was back at home with his mama. The crowd clapped along with his song, which was a single he had published just recently. It was his first single, and it had a good reception despite him being relatively new. He knew most of that came from the fame of his father, but Jimmie still liked to think he had his own brand of charisma which gained him a mini following. The crowd bounced along with the twang of his guitar, more than they had done with most of the performances previous. It gave him a boost of confidence that he almost forgot he was capable of having midst all the nervousness surrounding the unknown presence of Elvis Presley.
Coming off the stage, Jimmie hoped that Elvis would be there in the wings of the theatre. If Jimmie had been given the opportunity to introduce himself right after the high of a crowd, he was certain he would have looked better than normal. But alas, the only person in the wings was his father.
“You did good, Jimmie,” His father patted him on the shoulder.
“Thanks, Pa,” Jimmie said. Despite his smile, Jimmie could feel disappointment set in as he didn’t see anyone around his age that he could assume was Elvis. The high from the crowd was coming down as well, and the bundle of nerves that had been in Jimmie’s chest earlier began to creep back up.
Jimmie knew he was supposed to leave the wings once his performance was over, but no one was rushing him out. And he couldn’t help but search the doors for any sign of the man who was only supposed to be a year older than him. His father stood by him, probably trying to grab the attention of a stagehand who could direct them out. But any help that his father would have been able to grab was pulled away as the door was opened by a teenager in a baggy, bright pink suit. Jimmie immediately knew that it was Elvis Presley. No one else he knew of could pull everyone’s attention so heavily.
Elvis Presley’s hair was jet black and greased back into some odd guy-version of a pompadour. He was wearing girl’s eyeliner under his baby eyelashes and it contradicted harshly with his bright blue eyes, making them pop out even more from his face. His face was round, but his jawline sharp and manly. If Jimmie was a girl, he would probably call the guy handsome. As Elvis passed Jimmie to step onto the stage, Elvis bit at his lip which forced Jimmie to notice the pink, fullness of his lips and it made something flutter in Jimmie’s chest. He gulped in a big breath of air as Elvis finally got past him and onto the stage. Jimmie hadn’t realized he had stopped breathing until he tasted the lingering scent of Elvis’ cologne in front of him. He shook himself out, grounding himself to pay attention to the show.
The announcer had already introduced Elvis, and there was a clear nervousness in the boy’s voice. Jimmie cringed as the microphone peaked when Elvis tried singing. The awkward tension surrounding the singer was obvious, and somewhat visible as Jimmie could see the man’s leg shaking.
“Get a haircut, ya fairy!” A shout rang from the audience, and Jimmie turned in shock, trying to identify the guy who would make fun of someone who had already become semi-famous. Jimmie looked back to Elvis, only to see that the shaking of his leg has stopped and been replaced with an intentional readjustment of his feet.
The shout that rang out from Elvis’ throat was automatically explosive. The bass and guitar players behind him immediately picked up on the energy and played a raucous tune to follow. Elvis was now practically jumping in place, and most scandalously, swinging his hips around. A girl screamed in the audience, and once that happened, it didn’t take long for most of the other girls to start screaming too.
Elvis stepped back to speak with his band members for a moment, and Jimmie took that moment to check his breathing again. Something in the boy’s performance had captivated his attention in a way that seemed impossible previously. Jimmie could feel his father brooding over his shoulder, and Jimmie had to make sure he kept his joy at hearing the song at bay. No tapping his foot or bouncing along, as badly as he was tempted to. 
Elvis returned to the front of the stage, shaking his hips even more vigorously than before, and Jimmie could hear himself gasp. For half a second, he thought he might scream just like one of the little girls in the audience, but he restrained himself. His breath quickened as he watched the scene in front of him. Elvis’ groin was at the center of everyone’s focus, and Jimmie was half certain he could see Elvis’ privates shaking along inside of the baggy, pink pants. Jimmie's throat went dry at the sight, and he became suddenly very aware of his own privates as they jumped inside his pants. Jimmie cleared his throat and looked down at the screaming girls, certain that he must be reacting to the overt display of women that were swooning. Elvis began to crouch over the edge of the stage, once again invading Jimmie’s vision, and his breath quickened once again.
“What on earth were you thinking, putting him up there, Jimmie.” His father said behind him. Jimmie swallowed as Elvis goes up on his toes, forcing his hips into the air in a mad thrust.
“I don’t know what I’m thinking,” he said.
As Elvis went to hold hands with some of the girls in the audience, Jimmie’s father grabbed his upper arm and began to drag him away from the stage and out the back doors. Jimmie knew that his father was grumbling about something, probably something about Elvis, but he couldn’t really pay attention to the words. He was hyper-focused on the images that were flashing in his mind of Elvis. His hair, his face, his hands as he strummed the guitar, his hips he danced around (and Jimmie very pointedly tried to ignore the memory of Elvis biting his own lips that had been seared into his brain).
Jimmie and his father had already arrived back at the touring carnival grounds by the time he began to come back down to earth, and his father still hadn’t slowed down with his complaining and grumbling about the vulgar display. Jimmie sat down at one of the tables that had been set up inside the tent, ready to zone out as his father went on a rant or lecture for the next hour. But as his thoughts wandered, he couldn’t help but think about how handsome Elvis was when he walked onto the stage, and how undebatably arousing he became (to women, of course. Jimmie thought) when he began to sing. The way the girls fawned over him, and the way that Elvis would respond with an extra shake or thrust or even just a smile.
That unexplainable warmth began to develop in Jimmie’s stomach again. He snapped his attention to his father’s words, determined to forget the whole thing. After all, it was just as Jimmie’s father said, it was a vulgar display that didn’t deserve much else thought. Jimmie would just enjoy the music, and not worry about the crazy movements of its singer.
Nearly a week later, Jimmie had almost forgotten about his panicked and fluttery feelings, when he found out that Elvis Presley would be joining his father’s tour as a guest performer. He was surprised that his father was willing to take on Elvis Presley, after the scandalized way he had reacted after the Hayride. On one hand, Jimmie felt excited by the prospect of being able to shadow or even hang out with such an amazing performer. On the other hand, it forced him to recognize the odd and, frankly sinful, way he felt about the newly created Rock and Roll music.
The first day that Elvis was with them, Jimmie spent most of the time double-checking that he was nowhere near the man. It was a rather difficult task, considering almost everyone on the tour route was clamoring around Elvis for at least a few words of conversation. It left Jimmie in the difficult position of trying to find someone to help him, without running into the mob. He tried to do as much setting up as he could without help, but after the first day, it just seemed impractical.
Jimmie knew that searching for Hudson would be spelling out his own doom, but he was also one the only people in the circus troupe that Jimmie felt he could actually talk to. Jimmie didn’t have anything against the midgets, but they could be a bit vindictive, especially when it came to manual labor. So, despite the warning bells going off in Jimmie’s head, he searched for a man he knew would be slacking off to talk with Elvis Presley.
“I just gotta know how you take something like colored music and give it such a sophisticated country twist to it.” Hudson stood on the other side of a tarp that Elvis was trying to lay down. Hudson’s smile was wide and kind of goofy while Elvis seemed to be scowling. Whether the scowl was directed toward the tarp or toward Hudson, Jimmie wasn’t sure.
“I didn’t do anything to the music. That’s always how Rhythm and Blues have sounded. I might’ve sped it up a little, but I didn’t do nothing else.” Elvis tied a rope to the corner of the tarp, securing the end of the tent in place.
“Jimmie!” Hudson had blown the very scarce cover that Jimmie had been achieving as he called out to him. “Can you please him why his songs are different from colored music?”
Elvis turned to Jimmie with a glare that indicated to him that the scowl was probably aimed more at Hudson. Something about the man’s blue eyes made the glare harsher than any glare Jimmie had experienced. Feeling awkward about being pulled into what was clearly a touchy topic for Elvis, Jimmie just shrugged in response.
“I haven’t listened to enough colored music to really say if it's different or not,” Jimmie said. “But I know from the few bits and pieces I have heard a lot of things from it in your music, Mr. Presley.”
The glare instantly seemed to sizzle away and was quickly replaced by a bashful smile. He was probably embarrassed from making their first encounter so confrontational. Jimmie couldn’t blame him. He was pretty embarrassed too.
“Call me Elvis, if you don’t mind,” he gave a small laugh. “I’m not really the type for formalities.”
“Oh!” Jimmie reached out his hand for a shake. “Well, in that case, I should probably tell you my name is–”
“Jimmie Snow!” Elvis quickly told hold of his hand and shook it vigorously. Jimmie felt his face flush when he noticed how big the man’s hands were. “I’ve been eagerly waiting to meet you. I’ve really liked the few songs you’ve put out.”
“Oh,” Jimmie blush increased at the praise. “Well, that’s very kind of you Mr. Pres– Uh, Elvis. I’ve really enjoyed your music too.”
“More than enjoyed it,” Hudson chimed in, walking up on the other side of Jimmie. “He practically worships you.”
Jimmie chuckled nervously, “Hud has always been an exaggerator. Don’t mind him.”
“Trust me,” Elvis laughed. “I think I’m already learning not to trust a word he says.” Hudson tried to laugh at the comment, but it seemed to fizzle out as he realized it might be an insult.
With Jimmie feeling mightily awkward, he pulled his hand out of Elvis’ and started to back away. “Welp, I’m pretty sure my pa needed me for something, so I’ll just head over there. Nice meeting you.” And Jimmie scurried away before his blush could grow even further.
But Jimmie did hear Elvis call out a goodbye behind him.
Over the next few days, Jimmie didn’t actively avoid Elvis, but he certainly doesn’t stay very long in the man’s presence. It’s not that he didn’t enjoy being with Elvis and the other boys their age, it's just that Jimmie felt sort of… underqualified, in a way, to speak with Elvis. Elvis had such charisma about him that Jimmie always felt flustered by. There was an ease in Elvis’ cadence and manner that made Jimmie wish he was more of an extrovert so he could deal with it better. There was something intimidating about Elvis’ stature that made Jimmie speechless. After all, Jimmie was a good few inches shorter than the man, and a right might skinnier. For the first time in Jimmie’s life, he almost felt kind of insignificant when he walked into a room that Elvis was also in.
Jimmie stared into his bathroom mirror, wishing desperately that some angel would come down and grant him access to whatever magical gift Elvis possessed that gave him the power in any room. He wished that he could grab attention the same way Elvis seemed to do without even meaning to. Jimmie wished that Elvis would see him as an equal, enough so that he might decide to be friends or even career partners.
That’s when Jimmie made the very impulsive, and slightly stupid, decision to grab the old, black shoe polish from his duffle bag and suffocate his hair in the stuff. The first layer of shoe polish washed out for the most part, and Jimmie just added another layer. The second retained some of the darkness but still held to more of a dark brown. By the third layer, Jimmie was starting to regret every emotion he had ever felt, but he was already too far into dying his hair to really go back. The fourth layer of shoe polish seemed to finally stick (thank goodness because he had been running out of shoe polish) and Jimmie was pretty sure his father was going to hate him forever.
But Elvis.
The moment Elvis saw Jimmie’s new, black hair, he hollered and clapped in excitement. It was as if Jimmie had received the medal of honor. Elvis just seemed to stare at the hair in wonder and congratulated Jimmie on his decision every time he could. With every bit of praise and every second of staring, Jimmie felt something build in his chest. It was warm and deep and almost felt like a champagne bottle exploding. Jimmie was certain he had never experienced a friendship like Elvis’.
From then on, Elvis and Jimmie spent every minute they could with each other. To be fair, that wasn’t much time at all. Elvis and Jimmie were both busy performing, and Elvis secured himself in his hotel room most of the time (per Mrs. Presley’s request). But it was the small, in-between moments that really counted! Jimmie eagerly waited for the moments they would both be waiting in the wings of various theatres, ready to perform but also so ready to just talk to someone their own age. Elvis seemed particularly keen on talking with someone who wasn’t constantly screaming or asking for an autograph. Jimmie couldn’t blame him. There also seemed to be at least five girls following wherever the man went.
It got to the point where Elvis would always have to find some secluded part of the carnival that most of the regular people couldn’t find, just so he could get some peace and quiet for once. Jimmie wouldn’t normally find him, but on the few occasions he did, they had some pretty interesting conversations.
“How are you just so comfortable in it?” Jimmie sat down on the bench with a sigh. “Doing all the crazy moves, and singing like a negro. How do you have such confidence?”
Elvis chuckled, “I’d say it's anything but confidence. I shake like a leaf before every performance.”
“Then what is it?” Jimmie asked. Elvis took a pause at the question, biting his lip in thought. Jimmie was captivated by the gesture.
“I just do what makes me happy, “ Elvis said. “Whether that’s dancing like I do, or singing like a colored man. It doesn’t really matter. All the nerves and fear just melt away because I’m doing something that I love.”
Jimmie stared in wonder at how the moonlight shone on the man before him. He hesitated to bring up his next statement, in fear of ruining the picturesque image. “My pa says that the way you move is evil.”
Elvis chuffed with a smile, “I’m becoming well aware of what he thinks.”
“Doesn’t that bother you?”
“I try not to let it get it to me,” Elvis sighed. “Sometimes I think maybe it would just be easier if I sang like him. Or sang real sweet like you.” Elvis smirked as he turned back to Jimmie.
“If that’s the case, then I wish we could switch voices,” Jimmie quipped. Elvis laughed at the small joke, and it sent a jolt of pride into Jimmie’s chest.
“You want to sing like me?” Elvis asked.
“I didn’t dye my hair black for nothing.”
Elvis was smiling widely now. “You don’t need to look like me in order to make music like me.”
“Sure,” Jimmie elongated the word in a teasing manner, “But it does help me feel less like Hank Snow’s son.”
Elvis’ browed crinkled at the comment, and his smile came down a bit. “Do you feel like you have to fit into a mold because your daddy is famous?”
“Not necessarily fit into a mold. It just-” Jimmie shook his head to dissuade the silliness of the words he was saying, “It just feels like I’m doing something unholy by mimicking you as Hank Snow’s son.”
“Ya know,” Elvis’ face had once again turned down in a serious expression, “my mama has always said that the way I move is God-given.”
“Really?” Jimmie turned his head up, slightly surprised.
Elvis nodded, “I don’t necessarily agree with her, but I think there’s some wisdom in the way she thinks.”
“What wisdom?”
Elvis smiled as if Jimmie had fallen into a trap he set up. “The way I move makes me happy. And if the Lord lets something create happiness, then can it truly be evil?”
Jimmie’s heart pounded as Elvis stared at him with such sincerity. There was something in the man’s face that wanted Jimmie to trust him, to believe in him, to believe that there was wisdom in the words he was speaking. Jimmie imagined how the words would feel in his mouth, how it would feel to truly believe them. That happiness was a sign of God working his miracles upon us. He imagined it would make life much less agonizing than it sometimes felt.
“The Lord lets Satan roam the earth,” Jimmie countered, “That doesn’t make Satan a good thing.” Elvis laughed, and it sent another jolt of electricity through Jimmie.
“I suppose that’s fair enough,” Elvis said. “I guess there are some things you just have to feel out before you settle on them.”
“Besides,” Jimmie continued, “I don’t have near the amount of charisma you do. It would practically be a suicide mission to change the trajectory of my career now. And to disappoint my pa like that just for it to fail anyway would be more humiliating than I could imagine. So I think it's for the best that I probably stick to my harmless countr–”
“Listen here, Jimmie,” Elvis suddenly grabbed him and put his hands on Jimmie’s shoulders. He looked so big in comparison to Jimmie’s tiny frame. “If you want to make music like mine then do it. Don’t let anyone hold you back, not your fans, not your manager, not even your daddy.”
Elvis’ face was less than a foot away from Jimmie’s own. He was sure that he could feel the singer’s breath on his face. The lips that had just spoken those ferocious words were tipping up into a confident smile. The striking blue eyes stared him down and willed a confident and rebellious response. Jimmie’s heart was racing so fast that he was pretty sure it was going to explode if Elvis didn’t back off. But at the same time, Jimmie wanted him to stay there forever. Jimmie wanted to stay connected to Elvis for the rest of his life.
Jimmie wanted to kiss him.
Jimmie pulled away from Elvis’ grip, making sure to face away from the gorgeous man and his beautiful lips. He sensed the shock coming off of Elvis as Jimmie didn’t respond, but Elvis kept quiet. Jimmie stayed still for a moment, hoping that his thoughts would realign and do away with the evil, temptuous idea. He could feel his hands shaking, and he gripped them together in an effort to make it not as noticeable, he bit his lip to try and make his breathing less intense and closed his eyes in the hope that tears wouldn’t form in front of the other man.
Despite all that, Elvis seemed to notice anyway. “Are-” Elvis almost put a hand on his shoulder before pulling back again, “Are you alright there, Jimmie?”
“I’m fine,” Jimmie blurted, certain that it did nothing to dissuade Elvis’ concerns. “I just have a lot of things to think about, that’s all.”
“Okay,” Elvis hesitated. “I’ll let you think about it then. But if you have any more questions, or you need support going forward, I’d be glad to help. You understand?”
Jimmie nodded frantically, still looking away from the other. He was just hoping for the gorgeous, beautiful, lovely, attractive man before him to just go away without any more fuss. Elvis took a moment and opened his mouth to speak before deciding not to, much to Jimmie’s relief. Elvis nodded and stood from the bench to wander off somewhere into the carnival.
Jimmie Snow met Elvis Presley in 1954 at the Louisiana Hayride. Jimmie speaks of how, even before he met Elvis in person, he greatly admired the man’s music and would often listen to it with his friends. After Jimmie met Elvis, and he began to tour with his father Hank Snow, Jimmie began to mimic Elvis, both out of admiration and as an idea on how to further his own singing career. Jimmie has described various ways he attempted this mimicry, including deepening his singing voice, swaying along with his hips to music, and dying his hair black.
a/n: If you liked this fic please reblog or write a comment in the notes. Or if you would like to support my writing in other ways, you can go to the ao3 copy of this fic and hit the kudos button at the bottom or write a comment there!
how would we feel about a part two of this fic? I know I've got some good ideas for it if you guys wanted. Although, you would have to help me decide whether we should do hetero or bi Elvis. I can't seem to decide...
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saintlike78 · 3 years
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Hey Love! Since u want to know my requests here go more one; Marauders x Fem!Reader (I'm a just a little bit obsessed about them hihi:), the reader is pregnant from her first baby and she's so emotional and sensitive cuz pregnancy hormones and she's crying for everything, at the same time she gets mad about anything, and she's horny all time, so she's like a mess of feelings.
(I thought this idea after seeing a scene from Grey's Anatomy, so if you want to check it out to understand; season 9, episode 12, minutes 02:40 to 04:00)
By; Cora🌈 (and the fic that u made about my last request is more perfect than I ever imagined <3)
Those stupid hormones [Poly Marauders]
A/N: Another great request from Cora! This was so fun to write. We all know that out three boys would be the sexiest dilfs ever, you can’t prove me wrong.
Pairings: Poly! Marauders x Fem! Pregnant! Reader
Words: 1.7k
Warnings: NSFW 16+, very soft and fluffy, dry humping, polyamorous relationship, pregnancy pains, mention of morning sickness and nausea. As always lmk if I missed anything.
The cool water dripped down your face as you stared at your flushed reflection; pink from the blush that had crept its way up your neck and latched itself onto your cheeks. The nap you had woken from had done nothing to soothe the surge of emotions that ran through you like electricity, the cause being the life growing in your belly. The news of your pregnancy had brought you and your husbands nothing but immense joy, but actually being pregnant was another story and you weren’t even that far along, already dreading the next few months filled with pain and changes – you just wanted your baby to be here already and spare you the grittiness in between.
Having dried your face with your towel and concluding that the pink that had overtaken your face and neck wasn’t going away, you made your way to the living room where the hushed voices of your husbands were residing. Trudging down the hallway you could feel the warmth between your legs, arousal churning, making your face even pinker than it already was.
Having finally made it to the living room you looked upon your three beautiful men, enjoying seeing them relaxed just being with each other and waiting for you.
James and Sirius were seated on the long couch, cuddled up in one end and conversing gently with one another, a rare sight of calm between the two.
Remus was sitting in the armchair with a book in hand focused on the words in front of him not paying attention to James and Sirius’ conversation, but smiling fondly when his eyes sometimes left the page to observe two of his lovers.
As Remus’ eyes left the page for his momentary check on Pads and Prongs, he caught sight of your figure looming in the doorway, a gentle smile on your face as you also observed the two men on the couch.
“Hi bun, good nap?” Remus asked as soon as he noticed you, closing and putting his book down on the small table beside the armchair; the two others looking up as well and smiling at you.
You only hummed in acknowledgment as you made your way towards the scarred man who’d asked the question, crawling on the chair to straddle his legs and wrapping your arms around his neck not giving him any time to process before your lips were on his in a needy kiss. Even though he was surprised, he reciprocated in no time wrapping his arms around your body and holding you closer to him. You whined lowly into the kiss as he slipped his tongue past your lips, your hips instinctively grinding down gently, testing the waters.
Your kiss was interrupted by the sound of Sirius clearing his throat very loudly and dramatically, not enjoying not being a part of whatever was going on between yourself and Remus. You turned your head to look at the culprit of the sound, breathing heavily as you stared at him with wide eyes, both James and Sirius looking back at you with a questioning raised eyebrow.
Remus placed a hand on your cheek to turn your face back to face his, his own brow also raised to match the two others' look of questioning.
“What’s going on Bunny? Not that I’m complaining, just curious,” Remus asked, but a cheeky smile and tone replacing his normal calm and serious voice.
Sirius adding to Remus’ question, “I’m also taking it you’re not cross with us anymore.” Sirius referring to the reason for you taking your nap; you practically being sent to bed after snapping at James for making your tea too hot, then being told off by Remus and Sirius only for you to cry and snap at them as well and Remus ‘suggesting’ a nap for you to cool down.
“No, I’m sorry for being mean… especially to you, Jamie,” you turned to look at James, giving him an apologetic smile.
“That’s okay, baby… I know you didn’t mean it,” he smiled back, his usual big goofy smile, letting you know that he wasn’t upset any longer, probably never was.
You turned back to Remus, looking into his eyes and letting yourself momentarily be lost in them, “I just really need you right now,” you said distractedly, earning yourself a smile from the lycanthrope you were seated on.
Remus leaned forward to kiss your nose, your face scrunching up in the process. His hands snaked around to grip under the back of your thigs before standing with you in his strong grasp, making the short journey to the couch and waiting for James and Sirius to break from each other so that he could seat himself between them.
When Remus was seated with you comfortably, James reached forward to tug a piece of hair behind your ear, stroking your cheek in the process.
“You feeling better, darling? You still feeling poorly?” James asked, your days lately having been filled with nausea, morning sickness, and discomfort.
“I’m feeling better… just a little achy,” you sighed.
“Where are you achy?” Sirius reached forward to rub up and down the expanse of your back, whilst his other hand rubbed gentle circles on your growing stomach.
“A little in my back… my boob… and my…” you paused, taking Sirius’ hand moving it lower on your stomach, right above your ache, “… here.”
“Ahh, I see,” Sirius nodded calmly, though Remus and James didn’t miss the small sparkle in Sirius’ eyes at the excitement.
You slowly started grinding your hips onto Remus’, frustrated tears gathering in your eyes at your desperation, “please,” you breathed out.
“Aww, bunny, don’t cry… we’ll help you out,” Remus laughed, grabbing your sides to stabilize you.
“Don’t laugh at me! I can’t help it… I’m so achy,” your frustration was clear, and the tears that had gathered threatened to spill.
“We’re not laughing, darling, you’re just so adorable,” James grinned, taking your hand in his and intertwining your fingers with his.
“I’m sorry, please just help me… please,” the first tears fell and slowly ran down your cheeks as you continued your grinding, not actually sure why you were crying.
Sirius removed the hand from your back and wiped your tears with the pad of his thumb while cooing, “Don’t worry, puppy, we got you.”
With that he reached a hand into the loose shorts you were wearing, reaching under the waistband of your panties as well, not wanting to put any more stress on you by teasing, his fingers instantly found your clit.
You did miss the rougher sex you would have before you found out you were pregnant, but the boys refused to put you in any sort of stressful situation when you were already going through so many changes and experiencing so many things at once; they decided that it would be best to be soft and gentle with you unless you specifically requested something else.
“Go ahead, grind that pretty pussy on my hand until you cum, pretty pup,” Sirius said as his fingers slowly started rubbing circles on your clit as your hips picked up speed at his words.
A breathy moan left your lips followed by a whimper of pleasure as your eyes fluttered close at the sensation.
Remus’ hands had moved to hold your hips, aiding your movements and choosing the speed at which you moved.
James took your face in his hands, “eyes on me, darling,” he spoke to which you complied, opening your eyes to look at his face. James leaned in for a kiss, enjoying the noises you would choke on when you ran out of breath, the small whines and whimpers being enough for him to cum in his trousers, but he controlled himself – this was for you.
Sirius’ fingers picked up speed as saw the pleasurable shiver run through your body and the small twitch it was accompanied by.
Your breathing increased and the moans became less controlled as the familiar feeling of pleasure grew in the pit of your stomach. Remus picked up the speed of your hips, occasionally bucking his hips to create more friction and pressure for you, but also creating friction on his cock trapped in the restraints of his slacks. Remus’ breathing increased as well, a few grunts and small low moans could also be heard leaving his mouth.
“Gonna cum,” you moaned out as your hips lost their rhythm, stuttering slightly as the pressure in your abdomen gave away, your orgasm ripping through your body, hands gripping Remus’ shoulders to stabilize yourself as your body shook from the orgasm.
Sirius’ fingers were still working on your clit, working you through the feeling, the moans you were releasing like music to his ears.
Remus’ hips bucked once more before he shook as well, releasing a strangled and stuttering moan, his cum making a mess in his smart slacks. “Fuuuck… baby,” he breathed out as he came, his fingers gripping your hips, but not hard enough to hurt you.
Sirius’s grin was so large you were sure it would break his face. He removed his hand from your shorts, kissing your cheek before cheekily looking at Remus. James was trying to keep his smile at bay, but failed miserably, a small giggle escaping his lips.
“Damn, puppy, look what you did,” Sirius grinned.
You looked at Remus’ face, who sported a lopsided smile; you were always surprised at the effect you would have on them at times, this had happened before, but it wasn’t often.
You giggled slightly with James, “Sorry, Remmy.”
“No need to apologize… this is just what happens when an unbelievably sexy, soon-to-be milf sits on top of me,” he laughed, winking at the last statement, causing all of you to burst out laughing.
“You’re going to be the sexiest milf ever and we’ll be the sexiest dilfs, all the other parents are going to run away screaming,” Sirius joked, standing proudly to do a couple of poses, showing off his muscles, James standing as well to pose with him, another fit of laughter rolling through all of you.
You shook your head, “I love you, my most sexy, soon to be, dilfs.”
“We love you too, pretty baby.”
Tags: @dracosafety, @justadreamyhufflepuff, @teenwolfbitches28, @emma67, @trouble-in-space, @sciapod, @kermiemoon, @autumnandwinteraesthetics, @roonilwazlibswhore, @whitecastles, @sprucewoodlover, @lexi_shoto,
If crossed out it means I couldn’t tag you!
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bts-weverse-trans · 3 years
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210104 Weverse Magazine ‘Be’ Comeback Interview - Suga
SUGA “I'm grateful that there are still unvisited areas in the world of music” BTS BE comeback interview 2021.01.04
SUGA has this way of talking passionately with a deadpan look on his face. Full of passion about his life and music.
How is your shoulder? SUGA: Good. I think it’ll get even better once I take off this brace. Apparently, it takes several months for a full recovery, but I'm trying to get better as fast as possible.
How does it feel like to have resolved a problem that has distressed you for long? SUGA: First of all, I'm glad. The pain is one thing, but when my shoulders got worse, I couldn't even raise my arms. But when I heard that this might recur when getting the surgery at a young age, I waited for the right time and had decided to get it done early next year regardless of the COVID-19 situation. I had planned to get the surgery after the year-end stages, but I got it done this year (2020) because my doctors advised me to start preparing early for next year’s promotions and activities.
How does it feel like watching the other members doing promotions? SUGA: I can't say it feels great. I could see the emptiness because we've been together as a group of seven for so long. Not necessarily because I'm not there but because something that should be there is missing?
Is that what made you join the promotion as much as possible? You shot lots of video footage in advance and you even appeared in the Mnet “2020 MAMA” through VR. SUGA: Fake SUGA (Laughs). There’s this 3D studio where we shot it. I shot, scanned, and acted there, but couldn't see the actual result at the studio. I thought a sense of displacement was unavoidable, and that was exactly the case. (Laughs) I acted normal because it would have been aired anyway even if I hadn’t had the surgery, but it seems a lot because it’s aired after the surgery.
You must feel restricted not being able to go on stage. SUGA: The thing is, it's only been a month after I got surgery, but my absence on stage is so apparent. But my doctors keep telling me that I shouldn't be impatient and in fact, many athletes get a resurgery when they return to the field without proper rehabilitation. So I'm working on trying to care less. For the first two weeks after surgery, I felt so frustrated that I tried out new things. I even watched movies I didn't watch.
What movies did you watch? SUGA: I watched ‘Samjin Company English Class’ as it happened to be on IPTV, and now I have ‘Tenet’ on my list. ‘Parasite’ was the last movie I saw at a cinema. As the social distancing measures became stricter, I haven’t been going outside, except going to the hospital. I even eat at home. I'm also watching a lot of TV nowadays. Watching music shows like ‘Sing Again’, ‘Folk Us’, and ‘Show Me The Money 9’ made me think of what I should do in the upcoming days.
Could you elaborate on that? SUGA: A lot of candidates on ‘Sing Again’ are very talented but hadn't had the opportunity, and on ‘Folk Us’, I noticed that many took their own guitars on stage. I started playing the guitar lately and I'm having this urge to broaden my scope of music. And since my interest in the music industry in the U.S. grew, I'm getting prepared, studying English and all.
What fueled your interest? SUGA: In some ways it’s the most commercially developed market. You could lose the industry attention in a flash if it's not feasible. So in this system, you would try everything and that would be an efficient way. I want to do music for a long time, and to this end, I always want to learn more about the global music industry because I want to do music that’s loved not only in Korea, but also in the U.S., Japan and Europe.
Speaking of which, it seems BE was influenced from music of the past rather than today's trends. SUGA: I especially like impromptu music. I love the songs that were made in one take instead of being recorded several times. In this era of crossover genres, the desire to do better in music is growing inside me.
As the genres become more blended, the melody you use must be more important. Does starting to play the guitar affect your composing in any way? SUGA: I always liked using guitar sounds. And I have always liked the Eagles. If you play the guitar, it’s way easier to write songs because you can carry it along wherever you go, pluck on the strings to create melody lines. Keyboards are difficult to carry around. (Laughs) I usually work on my laptop but I had this thought that I definitely needed an instrument. It accelerates my work and improves my understanding of chords.
It makes me think you could intuitively make melodies. SUGA: It’s easier to write a song because you can intuitively make a progression and try many different things. During my work on ‘Eight’, IU had recorded and sent me a song from her phone. At the time I couldn’t play the guitar, so we tried to make sure we’re working on the same page when keeping track of each other's progress. That made me feel the need to learn an instrument.
This is actually before you started playing the guitar, but I found ‘Telepathy’ in BE very interesting. The varying melodic progressions between hooks for each member made me wonder if you wrote the melody intuitively for each part. SUGA: I tried writing a melody for the first time this year (2020), and as I started knowing the fun of music, it opened a lot of new doors for me. So it was kind of easy working on it. I just played a beat and wrote from the beginning until the end. Done. I wrote it in just 30 minutes. The song almost wrote itself. The trends of pop and hip-hop these days cross boundaries between vocals and rap. I like this trend.
When I listen to your singing, it feels like you’re hitting the beats rather than singing along the notes. So I thought perhaps you're singing as if you're rapping. SUGA: When you're rapping, you just think of the rhythm, so it’s like simply putting on a melody to a rhythm. To define which comes first, I think melody adds to it while writing the rap.
In ‘Life Goes On’, the lyrics ‘Thankfully between you and me, nothing’s changed’ are somewhere in between. It's not rap but it’d be mundane to say it's a mere melody. SUGA: There are obviously songs where the rap needs to be highlighted. For example, in ‘Dis-ease’ or ‘Ugh!’, you have to be good at rap. But in songs that should be easy to listen to, impressive raps are not always the way to go. Sometimes, you want smooth transitions without obstacles.
In that sense, the rap flow of ‘Blue & Grey’ was impressive. Rather than a dramatic effect that emphasizes each part, you extended the rap just as much as the slowing beat. SUGA: To be honest, this beat is difficult to rap to. The beginning of the song only has a guitar line, which made it even more difficult. I participated when we wrote lyrics for ‘Blue & Grey’ and I've always wanted to work on a song like this. It was because verse 1 talks about the theme of the song.
It seems you achieved almost everything that you wanted in BE. SUGA: I think it took less than a week to make my part in the album. After having written one or two melodies for ‘Life Goes On’, I wrote a version complete with rap, and liked it that I even worked on a separate arrangement and lyrics. Rather than pondering over the ways that might work, I choose to simply play the music and write.
Many creators are unsure even after they’ve produced good work. How do you get the conviction to release your work? SUGA: Many musicians are unsure whether they should release their music or not. It was the same for me, but the thing is, you’ll never release anything if you nitpick everything. For example, if we release 10 songs, we have a chance to unveil them in concerts or fan events. And sometimes, as we listen to the song, we think, ‘Why does this part that had bothered me no longer bother me?’ Some things might feel awkward at some point, but in time, it no longer feels awkward. Even I forget about it. So it's more efficient to fine tune, looking at the big picture, rather than thinking too much about the details. On top of that, during promotions, I don’t have the time to pick tracks that others have sent for 10 hours. It would be a success for all of us if each of us play and write a melody in their own time and collaborate with others on the details. So the way of songwriting has evolved in many aspects.
What motivated such evolution? SUGA: I think it evolved naturally. I've changed in personality this year (2020), as well as in terms of my interpretation and attitude toward life to the extent that I almost thought I've been rehearsing. How would it feel like if there were no stage to go to or anyone looking out for me? This thought made me realize the value of these things.
In ‘Dis-ease’, you sing ‘I don’t know if it’s the world that's sick’. Was it this lifestyle that changed your thoughts about your work? SUGA: Yes. When I was young, I had embraced the belief that ‘It must be my fault’, but as I got older, I realized that this is not always true. Most of what I had thought was my fault was in fact, not my fault. On the other hand, there are things that I did well and times I had been lucky.
‘I NEED U’ came out during a time when you were still thinking, “It must be me”. After the members put on a stage with ‘I NEED U’ in KBS' ‘Song Festival’, you wrote on Weverse, “It’s the same as five years ago.” How would you compare with back then? (This interview was held on December 19, 2020.) SUGA: We've matured quite a bit. And our stage performances have become more natural. I still like ‘I NEED U’. Just listening to the beat makes me sentimental, and above all, the song came out nicely. So as I was watching this and that when I stumbled across old videos. Watching them made me think that we haven’t changed much.
In what aspect haven't you changed much? SUGA: Before the social distancing measures got stricter, I talked with the photographer for BE, whom I had met four years ago. The photographer was surprised that we hadn’t changed much after all the success, even though he had assumed we’d be very different.
I'm amazed personally. I’ve had the chance to meet the members before your debut, but from your way of talking with members or others, it seems you haven't changed. SUGA: I think it's because we don’t give it a big deal about success. For example, it's incredible to be ranked first on the Billboards, but there’s also this sense of, “Okay, and?”
Even the Grammys? (Laughs) SUGA: When we got nominated for the Grammy Awards, we thought, ‘Is this real?’ (Laughs) Of course we were delighted, but it didn’t make us think, ‘We're singers nominated for the Grammy.’ If you're nominated, you're nominated, and if you get the award, you get the award. You don't get shaken by that. I know it's a great award and would be so grateful if we receive it, but we know that nothing is possible without the tremendous support of our fans. What’s more important is that the fans are more flattered than us when we receive a great award. So everyone's rejoicing, but it’s like, ‘Let's do what we have to do.’ We've been training ourselves to keep finding our places, so no one remains overexcited.
In ‘Fly To My Room’, there are lyrics that say, ‘This room is too small to contain my dream’, and ‘Sometimes this room becomes an emotional trash can, but it embraces me.’ I had this feeling that the room had been such a place and that you were accepting that you have changed. Then the essence must have remained the same. SUGA: It wasn’t easy to accept that we eventually change. But I think it's a good thing that we changed. What we did back then was possible only at that time, and we could change because of the things we had accomplished.
Then, what new things are you dreaming about? SUGA: I'm eager to continue doing music. Since all performances were canceled due to COVID-19, I had a chance to talk to so many musicians in Korea. I talked with legendary singers as well as people who are my contemporaries. Talking with them once again made me realize that I love music so much. Because music is my profession, I can’t imagine myself not doing it. I'm grateful that there are still unvisited areas in the world of music.
What kind of music do you think you’ll be engaged in in the future? SUGA: I was greatly motivated when I saw the concert of Na Hoon-a last Chuseok . I wondered how many musicians would actually be able perform and write music for so long like he has. At that moment, it occurred to be that ‘I want to be like him’. He has passion and desire, and most of all, he is a superstar. A few years ago, I took my parents to a Na Hoon-a concert, and when they watched the performance last Chuseok, they said it was way less impressive to see him perform through the TV. (Laughs)
That must explain your interest in a broader spectrum of music from instruments to composing and musical genres. Because you want to be doing this for a long time. SUGA: My goal is to continue doing music in any shape or form. In that sense, I have this great respect toward Cho Yong-pil. He takes the best sound there is and reinterprets it into his own. I think that’s something I want to emulate and keep changing and evolving so that I can continue doing music for decades to come.
The lyrics ‘Thankfully between you and me nothing’s changed’ must sound more meaningful for the fans because they will be listening to your music for a long time. SUGA: A month and a half in the current times must seem like a lifetime for the fans when we're far apart. I feel the same. But I think that's proof that we worked hard for the past seven years and that the fans have been passionately reaching out to us. I'm striving to get to them as fast as I can, and I'm eager to go on stage. I'm going through this because I want to be better on stage in a better condition, so don't be sad, and please hang in there a little longer.
Trans © Weverse
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hertzwritings · 2 years
Text
Between the pages, chapter 3
A/N: The love for this story is literally OVERWHELMING! Thank you so much for giving this a chance, because I’m already in love with it. I have no words, except for thank you and the following. I am in awe of the amazingly, beautiful, amazing, kind and openhearted people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing, @cooldreamlandsandwich - my son by verbal adoption and a serious help, rock and idea-giver. Thank you for sparring with me and giving me more wonderful ideas. I’m so proud of you and who you are, thank you for you.
Feedback feeds the soul and requests are always open – there’s no limits, because I am me and have none.
You can donate to my Ko-Fi here, and depending on what you donate, I’ll write you a personalized oneshot/story! It would help me tremendously.
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BETWEEN THE PAGES MASTERLIST
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Pairing: AU!Henry Cavill x female reader
Warnings: Fluff, language, some light pining
Wordcount: 2.035
Previous chapter
Yes, I'm changing
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Henry woke up with a start, his eyes blinking against the harsh light of the sharp morning sun. He rubbed his eyes groggily and turned to look at the clock; 06.15. Way too early for him – it was Saturday which meant no work and no students, so he should be able to sleep in, but apparently, his body and mind had some very different ideas.
Classic.
He swung his legs out of the bed, groaning a little, and trotted to his kitchen to start the coffee up. As the steady rhythm of the machine filled his ears, he leaned back on the counter and yawned. His thoughts wandered to Y/N. She had wormed her way into his brain – he didn’t know what to think of it, mostly because it wasn’t until he didn’t spend time with her, that he realized. He had friends, but none of them had stayed in his head in the same way as she did. It was a little strange. He poured his coffee and sipped it, burning his tongue slightly with a hiss. Fucking mornings.
The day dragged on, slowly the hours ticked by as he worked on his paper, research and lectures for the coming week. He had a hard time focusing on the paper, his mind constantly traveling to Y/N and their collective work on it and a sense of guilt came over him as he tried to work on it. It felt a little wrong to write on the paper without her next to him. It was strange, feeling like this – Y/n ad somehow settled in the pit of his stomach, bringing her smile to the forefront of his head; as his thoughts swirled around her, he found the leather-bound notebook, he wrote small notes in, out, and looked at the three pages already filled, before jotting down another sentence.
For a man, who didn’t believe in love, the words on the pages were very much starting to look like a romantic writing a novel.
He was pulled from his thoughts with the phone next to him beeping, a text lighting up the screen.
T: just an FYI, it’s Y/N’s birthday Monday.
Henry stared at the message from Tom with brows furrowed. She hadn’t mentioned it at all, not given the slightest indication that it was coming up and he was worried that he seemed too angry or unapproachable for her to approach him about it. Another message ticked in, and Henry’s eyes followed the line of words.
T: She never celebrates it. I don’t think she has many people around her to celebrate with. Food for thought.
H: Thanks for the heads up.
He put his phone down and stared at the laptop in front of him, making up his mind on the spot.
------------------
Come Monday, his bag was a lot heavier than it normally was, and this time it wasn’t weighed down by books – he was balancing a small cake on his other hand, walking slowly to his office, eyes trained on the cake in his hand.
He didn’t know what had come over him; it was like the devil took over, and he just couldn’t stop himself, probably going overboard a lot. He caught Tom’s eyes as he moved down the hall and Tom simply grinned at him; his eyebrows raised in a silent question. Henry simply shook his head and opened the door to his office with his elbow, the rolled sleeve of his shirt almost catching on the doorknob. He sucked in a sharp breath as the box with the cake wobbled dangerously in his hand, but it thankfully stayed put until he put it gently on his desk and let the heavy bag fall from his shoulder.
He rushed to his classroom with a minute to spare and panting, started his lesson on Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the words falling from his lips without thought; his thoughts were on Y/N and the bag in his office, and whether or not he had done too much.
The class ended ten minutes before it should, Henry simply didn’t have the mind to keep going. The class seemed elated as they packed, but Maisie ran to him with a smile on her overly painted lips, pulling her shirt down slightly as she stopped in front of him. He sighed. “What can I help you with, Ms. Bowen?” He asked neutrally. “So… The semester is ending soon.” She said in a husky voice. He simply raised an eyebrow at her. “And I was just thinking… When it does, I’m no longer your student.” “Your point being?” He asked. She shot him a smile. “Well, I was wondering if you want to get a drink, then.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes. Every year. Every year there was one student like this. “Ms. Bowen.” He started. “Please, Maisie… Sir.” She said, winking at him. “Ms. Bowen.” He continued. “That’s highly inappropriate. I’ll suggest we forget this conversation completely and you find someone else to throw your affections towards. Preferably not a teacher.” He said in an even tone. Her face fell a little and she scowled at him. “You’re a prude. I’m an adult, you know.” “You don’t act it. A no is a no.” He gathered his things and left the girl in his classroom, not even looking back. It wouldn’t be the first nor the last time he was propositioned by a student; he knew how he looked and understood the fact that his looks paired with his teachings and voice made a lot of them… Feel things. Not that he would ever do anything about it.
When he reached his office, Y/N was leaning against the wall next to the door, her smile etched on her face. He grinned back at her. “You’re late.” She said, her lips a cheery pink today. “By a minute.” He grumbled and unlocked the door, opening it and letting her inside. She glanced at the desk and frowned. He smiled and opened the box, revealing the cake wit happy birthday written in cursive, white letters on top. “Didn’t have time to get a candle.” She grinned at him, her eyes shining. “I’m disappointed.” She said happily – and to his surprise, wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a tight hug. His heart stuttered for half a second and he must’ve eaten something bad this morning, because his stomach surged at her touch. He wrapped his arms around her, and she buried her head in the crook of his neck, and he couldn’t help the satisfied smile cross his face. “Thank you.” She mumbled against his shirt. “Nobody has gotten me a cake for years.” He slowly pulled away and their faces were overwhelmingly close. “I hope I’m not overstepping, but, er, I got you more than cake.” She frowned and let go of his neck, the cool air unwelcome on his skin.
“What? No, Henry, you didn’t have to…” He shook his head with a smile and grabbed his bag, pulling out the several wrapped gifts. “I wanted to.” Her eyes were wet as she saw the array of gifts in his hands. “I can’t accept this, Henry.” “You can. No returns.” He winked at her and handed her the gifts, his heart speeding up – he really wanted her to like the gifts. He might’ve only known her for a month at this point, but she mattered to him. A great deal.
She sat down in the chair, that had somehow become hers, her fingers dancing on top of the gilded paper and sniffed once. “I don’t know what to say.” He sat down across from her and grinned. “You haven’t even seen what it is yet. It might be completely stupid.” She quirked her eyebrow at him, and her pink lips split into a thankful smile, her fingers quickly wiping the tears from her eyes. He began cutting the cake as she slowly unwrapped the paper – she was one of those people, who didn’t want to tear the paper, clearly, because she took great care. He noticed the bluish tint to her hands again but didn’t comment on it.
She gasped as the first present was unwrapped, and he felt a moment of absolute terror, that she hated it. “Holy shit, Henry.” She looked at him with wide eyes. He had found a website, that sold different makeup-things shaped as books, quills and Victorian wands, and had pretty much outbought the store. He had bought the Starry Night palette (not that he really knew what that meant), where a beautiful rendition of the painting rested on top of it, and it opened as a book. He had bought the Jane Eyre one as well as the Sherlock Holmes one, all of them looking like vintage books. She beamed at him and opened them with small gasps here and there as she surveyed the colors. “These are beautiful, Henry. Thank you!” He nodded to the two last gifts on her lap. “Don’t thank me yet.” She quickly unwrapped the smaller one, four different lipsticks tumbling out – all of them named after classic heroines in novels – and finally, she unwrapped the last one.
Her eyes were wide and mouth slack as she stared at it. His heart stuttered. This one had a deep meaning for him, and he hoped she’d like it. “Is this a…” She looked at him, her fingers holding the book so carefully, as if she was afraid she’d break it. “A first edition of Pride and Prejudice?” He said with a soft smile. “Yes. It was my grandmother’s, and now it’s yours.” Her eyes were once again wet, tear dripping from her eyelashes as her hand ran over the spine, reveling in the feeling of the raised letters. “I don’t know what to say.” “A thank you is the norm.” He winked at her. “This is too much, Henry.” She said earnestly and looked at him. He shrugged. “It’s a book.” He said nonchalantly. “How much did you spend on all of this? I should repay you…” “It’s no matter, it’s your birthday. Those don’t come around every day.”
In reality, he had spent entirely too much on all of the things, but he was repaid tenfold by the look on her face. It was special, the way she looked at him. He had to admit it, maybe there was something more on his end than just friendship – the feelings she stirred in him made him want to smile and jump, which was very much out of his normal behavior. Not that he would let her know.
The sat together, ate cake and talked idle chatter for a while, the hours going by without any work being done. Finally, she had put her plate down and leaned over the table, catching his eyes with her.
“Listen, I need to make you promise me something.” She said with urgency in her voice. “Okay?” He leaned over as well, a magnetic pull between them. “This is going to sound so ridiculously cliché, but I need you to promise me that you won’t fall in love with me.” He chuckled a little and ignored the flutter in his stomach. “You are a walking cliché, Y/N.” She smiled a quick smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Promise me.” He drew a deep breath and leaned even further over the table. He heard her breath hitch. “I promise I’ll do everything in my power not to fall in love with you.” He answered truthfully. She nodded, happy enough with that statement and leaned back into her chair again, grabbing her gifts and her bag, slinging it over her shoulder and waving goodbye to him. “Seriously, thank you. For all of this.” She nodded to the things in her arms. “I haven’t had a birthday this comfortable and enjoyable for years.” “You’re welcome.” He answered and looked at the door as it closed behind her.
Yes, he’d do everything in his power to not fall in love with her. He didn’t think he could keep it, because he was like a moth to the flame with her.
But she didn’t need to know that.
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hercleverboy · 3 years
Text
the year of goodbyes
spencer reid x gn!reader
masterlist
summary ↠ over the course of a year, Spencer says goodbye to three people— and hello to one.
category ↠ angst/fluff
warnings/includes ↠ takes place in s11, talk of Alzheimer’s,  
word count ↠ 1.8k
massive shoutout to my beloved @ellesgreenaway for beta reading and encouraging me to finish this piece— india you are my actual saving grace
“If you’re brave enough to say goodbye, life will reward you with a new hello.” — Paulo Coelho
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People leaving wasn’t exactly a new concept for Spencer.
He knew it all too well, the familiar look that was cast over peoples features, how their eyes got glassy and lips twitched as they prepared to tell him that they were yet another person who would leave him behind— like so many had before.
But their choice of words was always different. He noticed a sort of pattern, when it came to people walking out of his life. They tended to dance around the words, never exactly saying ‘I’m leaving you.’
First, it was his father. He’d watched him pack a suitcase full of things, spit angry words at his mother and then turn to him, his son— placing his hand on his shoulder, mumbling a few cowardly words and that was that. Spencer no longer had a father.
(‘I’m sorry. I just don’t know how to look after you anymore.’)
Second was Gideon, who never actually said goodbye in person (and Spencer couldn’t decide whether that was better or worse.) Instead, he left, wrote words down on a page and then addressed it to him.
(‘Spencer, I knew you would be the one to come down here.’)
And again, with Alex. Not a goodbye, not in the formal sense, but Spencer’s heart ached with how he knew what this was— he recognised the look on her face and knew that once again, he would lose someone he loved.
(‘You know, Ethan would’ve been a lot like you.’)
Everyone in Spencer’s life started to feel temporary. There one minute, gone the next. He wished that meant that he cared any less for them, or that it hurt any less when they left.
Of course, that was never the case.
His mother’s mental state had been deteriorating rapidly, and nothing— not anything that Spencer’s big genius brain could think of — was helping her.
When he visited her, he saw the vacant look in her eyes. He recognised the look of confusion on her face when he’d enter the room, ignoring how his heart squeezed painfully upon realising that his own mother no longer remembered him.
It would take her a few minutes, but eventually the confusion would disappear and she would give him a smile, greeting him with open arms and warm words.
It was a different kind of leaving, but she was leaving him all the same. She wasn’t physically going anywhere, but, mentally?
He saw how she was deteriorating, he argued with countless doctors and medical professionals, exhausting every book and resource he could find— just hoping he could come up with something.
But, no.
He found it a little ironic. He was the boy wonder, the resident genius of the Bureau’s elite behavioural analysis unit, a smartass who had endless amounts of knowledge.
He always had the answer, always had the solution.
Ironic— because the man who was supposed to know it all, had no clue how to protect his mother from a disease that would inevitably take her from him.
It wasn’t something he would ever come to terms with, it was never something he would accept. He knew how it was going to go, the doctors told him as much.
The day would come that he would walk into his mother’s room, and those vacant eyes would never gain clarification. Her confusion wouldn’t pass, and she would no longer recognise him.
Spencer dreaded that day.
He feared it, even. 
Because the day he lost his mother would be the day he lost himself. 
*
When Catherine Adams’ file came across Spencer’s desk, he thrusted all of his agony over his mother into the case. It was why he decided that he would be the one to take her down in the restaurant, why he insisted that she wouldn’t perceive him as a threat. 
Oddly enough, Spencer found himself intrigued by her. Perhaps, he simply enjoyed being intellectually challenged in such a way.  Or perhaps, somewhere deep down in the darkest parts of himself, he liked the attention, got off on being able to outsmart her. 
He was smug when he managed to trick her into getting into the back of the police van, under the guise that he’d found her father. (After all, she was ‘just another girl with daddy issues’.) 
It was only when Cat gave him a grin, one that contrasted with the tears that slipped down her cheeks, that Spencer felt uneasy. 
He crouched down in front of her, whispered a small, “Goodbye, Cat,” before getting up and leaving the van, feeling a weight on his chest that made it difficult for him to breathe. 
Again, it was a different type of goodbye. One he was of course relieved about, because with it brought the promised safety of Penelope, now that Cat was behind bars. Although, alongside the relief, there was a sour aftertaste. 
It was what led him to take a moment, sitting down on the swings in the park, hands trembling slightly as they grabbed the chains, swinging gently in a slow rhythm that he hoped would calm him down. 
The last words Cat had said to him played over and over in his head. 
“In twenty years, you won’t remember my name. But I’ll remember yours.” 
At first, Spencer assumed she was referring to how after a while, Cat would simply blend into the sea of seemingly never-ending unsubs who all tried, and failed, to outsmart the team.
It was only later that Spencer realised she was instead insinuating that he would succumb to the same disease as his mother— forgetting not only those that he loved, but the ones he hated too.
*
Spencer’s best friend was going to be a father. 
The team were gathered in the waiting room, eagerly awaiting news, when Morgan came out with a smile on his face. “It’s a boy!” 
Pure, unbridled joy burst throughout the room, with Spencer lurching forward to wrap his arms around him, laughing and giving his congratulations. He swallowed the lump that began to form in his throat and pushed away the thoughts that swirled around his mind. Deep down, he knew what would inevitably happen, but that moment wasn’t the right time to think about it. 
It was late in the evening when Derek Morgan stopped by Spencer’s desk. Before he even looked up from his paperwork, he knew where this conversation was going to go. When he did look up, it all but confirmed it— he saw the sad smile on Morgan’s lips, and watched how his eyes glossed over.
He said nothing though. Instead, he smiled and chuckled as Morgan gushed over his newborn son. His smile got even bigger when Morgan handed over the birth announcement— Hank Spencer Morgan.
Although he knew what was coming, he knew what decision Morgan was going to make, he expected nothing less from his best friend. A man who had grown immensely in the years he’d known him, going from a real ladies man to someone who would give up his job in order to be there for his family.
Morgan placed his hand on Spencer’s shoulder, a sigh leaving his lips. “Kid, listen. Here’s the thing..”
“I know.” Spencer whimpered quietly, smiling sadly. “It’s okay. I know. And I understand.”
He watched Derek Morgan walk away, sniffling as he willed the tears to keep at bay. He watched his best friend, his brother, walk away. And it hurt, God it hurt. But he was so proud of the man that Morgan had become that he pushed aside the hurt, reminding himself of what he knew to be true.
Everyone left eventually. 
Spencer feared that one day, he would look around and find that he was truly and utterly alone.
*
It was a normal Tuesday morning, and Spencer was making his way through the FBI Headquarters, up to the BAU floor. He stepped into the elevator, his coffee mug in one hand, and his other resting over his satchel. Just before the door closed, he heard someone call out. 
“Hold the doors!” 
Spencer reached a hand out, pushing the doors back open. 
You scuttled into the elevator, looking over to the male next to you with a smile. “Thank you for holding the doors. I’m already running a little late for my first day.” You explained, reaching to press the button for the fifth floor, watching as the elevator doors closed again. 
“The fifth floor? The Sex Crimes Unit?” Spencer asked curiously. 
You nodded. 
“It’s your first day?” 
“Yeah, I moved here for the job a couple of weeks back. It was an incredible opportunity, I couldn’t pass it up.” You expressed, and Spencer gave you a tight lipped smile in return. “I’m presuming you work here as well?” 
He nodded. “I’m in the Behavioural Analysis Unit, a floor up from you.” 
“Well, that’s good to hear. At least I have one friend in the building, if it turns out my new team hate me.” You joked, glad when Spencer let out a little laugh. 
“I’m sure that won’t be the case. You seem very likeable.” 
You grinned up at him. “Thank you.”
The elevator dinged, the doors opening. You looked over at your new friend, flashing him a nervous smile. “Well, wish me luck.”
“Good luck.” He smiled back, raising his hand in a small wave as you left the elevator. 
After a long day of paperwork (and thinking of the pretty person he’d met in the elevator), Spencer gathered together his things before getting into the elevator. It stopped on the floor below, and when the doors opened, he smiled at the sight of you. 
You looked up from where you’d been looking down at your phone, mirroring his grin. “Hey! It’s you.” 
“Yes—yes, It is, me.” Spencer replied, cringing awkwardly at his nonsensical response. 
You only laughed quietly at it, entering the elevator. 
“How was your first day?” He asked, only to be polite. 
You seemed surprised that he’d asked, but answered nonetheless. “It was good! Turns out my team don’t hate me. Or at least, I don’t think they do?” Your voice raised in question, making Spencer laugh a little. 
“See? What did I tell you?” He grinned, and you rolled your eyes playfully. 
You leaned over, nudging his shoulder with yours. “I’m Y/N, by the way.” 
“Spencer.” 
“It’s lovely to meet you, Spencer. For the second time today.” 
Spencer smiled shyly, hands delving into his pockets as the elevator dinged. The two of you stepped out, looking at one another with timid expressions. 
“My car, it’s that way.” You pointed to the other end of the car park. 
“I take the subway.” Spencer responded, wishing he could find a way to make you stay a little longer.
“Well, have a good evening, Spencer.” You beamed. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” 
“Yes!” He responded a little eagerly, sighing inwardly before clearing his throat. “I mean yeah, sure that- that’s cool.” 
You giggled quietly, waving goodbye before turning toward your car. 
Spencer blushed the whole way to the subway station, biting back the smile on his lips at the thought of you. 
People leaving wasn’t exactly a new concept for Spencer. 
But you? 
He had the feeling that you were going to be a very permanent part of his life, and he didn’t mind that in the slightest. 
*
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beyondspaceandstars · 3 years
Text
While You Sleep
Chapter 10
Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: SMUT, NSFW penetrative sex, dirty talk, fingering - 18+, minors dni Summary: Soulmate!AU - Throughout life, you’re given glimpses of your soulmate through dreams. As you sleep, memories flash in your mind showing you the life your soulmate has lived. Everyone around you raves about how their soulmate reads great books or volunteers in their spare time. But you can’t relate as your dreams end up being more like nightmares. Through initial images of death and violence, you come to learn your soulmate is the Winter Soldier.
(a/n: if smut is not your cup of tea please skip to the page break [denoted by the ***] b/c the little pillow talk afterwards relates to the overall story!)
Masterlist | Series Masterlist
Your head was absolutely spinning as you returned the kiss as passionately and strongly as Bucky had started it. Your lips molded together as if made for one another - but that’s right, they technically were, and suddenly it felt like everything had aligned. Like Fate herself had succeeded.
Your hand came up to Bucky’s jaw, caressing gently as he hummed into the kiss. His arms were locked securely around your waist. He pulled you into him as if you two could get any closer.
But then he broke the kiss suddenly, letting you two gasp for air. Although, there wasn’t really a moment to compose yourself. Just as fast as he kissed you, his lips now found their place on your neck. He nipped and sucked at your soft skin.
“You know,” you gasped as his lips continued their pleasant assault on your neck, “I don’t normally sleep with people after only the second date.”
Bucky chuckled, lowly. Dangerously. “You can’t make an exception for your soulmate?”
You couldn’t help but moan from the way the word tumbled off his lips so perfectly. “Say that again.”
“What?” He chuckled, playing dumb. “Soulmate?” You shyly nodded. 
“Come one, make an exception for me, doll,” he whispered as his hand traveled to the back of your thigh. “Let your soulmate make you feel good.”
That, for some reason, was just right for you. “Bucky…” you sighed as his hand began making its way higher, just skimming the bottom of your dress. Instinctively, you ground your hips into his, already feeling his hard-on forming.
You thought you were getting somewhere as his hand was now gripping your thigh, sure enough to leave bruises, but then all his actions stopped. His lips left your neck, letting the cool air hit the now raw and damp skin. Your jaw dropped, ready to protest, but he spoke before you had the chance.
“Our first time is not going to be in the kitchen,” Bucky said.
“Then point me to the bedroom because I don’t know how much longer I can stand here before I combust.”
Bucky just playfully rolled his eyes before doing something even more unexpected: he picked you up like you were the weight of paper and threw you over his shoulder. You squealed in surprise while he just laughed and began walking down to an off-shoot room from the main area. Next thing you know, you’re being draped gently across his bed. 
Bucky hovered, hands on either side of you. His lust-filled eyes raked over you, taking in the sight of your ruffled dress and braided hair. Both would be severely messed up in a short amount of time but for now, he just seemed to be enjoying seeing you in his bed. A soulmate in their soulmate’s bed. It didn’t feel real.
“Are you okay?” You whispered, placing your hand on his bicep, trying to coax him out of whatever thoughts were bombarding his brain. His sudden silence had made you a bit nervous thinking everything was going to dissolve. 
But Bucky nodded and said, “I can’t get over how gorgeous you look here, in my bed. Like this is where you belong.” 
Everything was suddenly on fire for you. From the desire pooling with you to the heat of his words… You didn’t know what else to do but throw your arms around his neck and pull him in for another kiss. While your first kiss was hot and heavy, this was slow and passionate. You had never touched like this nor had you been touched like this. Everything was so raw and significant. 
As your lips work, so did Bucky’s hands. You felt fingers gliding up your dress, slowly pushing it up until your panties were exposed. You didn’t even have time to worry about the fact they weren’t the fanciest piece you owned before Bucky was pushing them to the side and inserting one finger. He groaned against your lips at the wetness now coating his hand. 
“You’re soaking, sweetheart,” Bucky broke the kiss to moan, his finger pumping in a steady rhythm. “Feel so good already. Can’t wait to feel you around my cock.”
His words went straight to your core, surprising you slightly that this bold Bucky was hiding under that timid man you just met a week ago. 
“Bucky, please,” you groaned, bucking your hips for him to speed up. He just chuckled and gripped your hip with his metal arm, forcing you down. You gasped at the feeling of the cool material on your hot skin. 
Bucky suddenly added a second finger, picking up his motions as his thumb came up to rub your clit. “Just a second, doll. Be a good girl and cum on my fingers first.”
You couldn’t verbally respond. All you could do was nod your head, your eyes fluttering as your orgasm built and built in you. Bucky’s motions picked up and the pressure on your clit intensified. His lips found their way to your neck again and for some reason, this entire combination was the hottest thing. You let go, squirming and whimpering as your orgasm engulfed you. Bucky worked you through it, his fingers not faltering. You whispered his name over and over before you even began coming down from the high. 
When your breathing got back to normal, Bucky removed his fingers, making you whimper just slightly at the loss of contact. He chuckled, feeling his hot breath hitting your neck. “You sound so pretty when you come.” A kiss. “I can’t wait to hear it again.” 
Without much warning, realizing Bucky is quite the spontaneous man when he wanted to be, he pulled your panties down and undid the front of his dress pants. You felt his hard cock spring free against your thigh. You moaned at the feeling and bucked your hips again, silently begging for him to hurry along. The strength of his metal arm came into play again, as he forced your hips back down. A bruise was sure to form but that was the last of your worries. You just needed to feel him. 
“So impatient,” Bucky tsked. He began pumping his cock a few times then lined up with your entrance. He didn’t push it yet as if wanting to torture you again. 
You rolled your eyes, “I’m impatient? You couldn’t even wait until we were undressed.”
“Next time,” he said and entered you in one swift motion. The connection was felt in every inch of you, the sensation and passion of it all. Your back arched as he filled you gloriously. Head thrown back, eyes shut, you let out a loud moan.
Bucky let out a low chuckle before reconnecting your lips. He moved in and out of you in such a wonderful rhythm. You had never felt so full. 
“Bucky…” His name was all you could muster up anymore but that seemed to please him just well. 
“That’s it, doll,” he whispered. “Let this whole apartment building know who’s making you feel good.” He pulled up then slammed back into you. “Let them know it’s me, your soulmate, making you go all dumb from pleasure.”
You groaned at his dirty talk, the words sinking to your core in just the right ways. Your hands found their way to his neck and back, gripping and tugging at the skin and material. He kept his motions as your mind went dizzy from the feeling. 
“B-Bucky-,” you moaned, quite loudly. He felt you begin to tighten around him. 
Bucky chuckled again, “You gonna cum, doll? Gonna cum again for me?”
You nodded, unable to form many words anymore. Bucky didn’t mind, still pulling all the way out then rushing back in. 
“S-So deep…” you sighed, tightening his grip on you.
He hummed, quite pleased with himself. “Almost there, doll, right?” You nodded and it was the truth. You were one second away from erupting in his arms. “That’s right, sweetheart. Cum for your soulmate.”
The word was too much for you and you were almost — just almost — ashamed at how it made you cum right then and there. Your second orgasm ran through you making you twist and turn, hips bucking up to Bucky’s, as you let the sensation flow through you. Bucky didn’t stop his movement, just faltered them slightly, working you through it and chasing his own. He wasn’t too far behind you, almost immediately filling you up gloriously with his seed. He groaned deeply in your ear as he released making you squeal. 
Bucky sighed contently, looking down at your fucked out state. Your eyes were just barely still opened, brain overwhelmed and spinning by the intensity of your lover. He moved his hips one last time just to hear your little squeals of protests in overstimulation before chuckling and pulling out. Warmness leaked out of you and onto the sheets but you were too wrapped up in the previous events to really care.
Bucky now laid on his side next to you, arm propped up watching you. He had a silly, goofy smile on his face. You gave a small smile in return, feeling warm again under his dreamy gaze.
***
“You okay, doll?” Bucky chuckled.
You rolled your eyes, moving up more towards his pillows and finding a discarded blanket to pull around you. Despite the prior actions, a bit of nervousness was coming over you again. “I’m just fine.”
“Just fine?”
“More than fine,” you sighed. “Complete.”
“Complete?” He asked. You hadn’t expected his pillow talk to be a round of twenty questions.
You shrugged. “I don’t know how else to describe it.”
Bucky studied you for a moment before nodding. “I understand.”
And you knew he did. You had felt it in the movements and passion that seeped through both of you as you finally gave yourselves to one another. Fate played such tricky games, you thought.
But a new thought suddenly came over you as the excitement of your orgasm drifted away. While you felt you knew so much about the man who had just been inside you, you were worried you also knew too little. It was only the second date, your anxiety reminded you. And now you were looking at each other like this was your entire world. 
“Bucky,” you broke the silence, “what do you do for a living?”
He looked at you, quite stunned at the sudden shift in tone. Whatever it was, you knew he felt some movement with you, thanks to the soulmate attachment. 
“I work with Steve on the... team.”
“So, you are an Avenger?” Internet searches had been all over that place on that, you remembered from your first virtual hunt. 
Bucky’s lip formed a tight line as if confirming or denying would be a curse. “I don’t consider myself that.”
You frowned, “Why not?” Maybe this was suddenly going off the rails. You were going for light get-to-know-one-another conversation, like, a date, but somewhere a nerve was struck.
He sighed, then looked away from you. “You know, doll,” he let out a humorless chuckle, “this is some heavy pillow talk.”
A master of sidestepping. Your heart began pounding at the words. “I-I’m sorry,” you said. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I just…. I just wanted to get to know you better.”
“Do you feel like we’re strangers?”
You signed, defeated. “I-I guess yes and no. You’ve been a part of me for so long but it’s also been... I don’t think I can describe it, but what’s new, right? I think this bond and our… our actions tonight are going to my head.”
Bucky didn’t say anything as he threw his arm around you, pulling you tightly into him. His hand rubbed your back soothingly. You melted into his touch, face pressed into the crook of his neck. 
“Look,” Bucky began, “I get it, trust me, I know it’s a lot.” He sighed. “But I also believe if we do what feels right to us, we’ll be on the right path. You gotta remember, doll, in some ways, we’re it for each other. This has to make sense on some level.” 
You didn’t know what to make of Bucky’s words. You felt them, you understood them, but you also were just reeling in from tonight. You didn’t want him to think you were having post-sex regrets but you also felt drunk on the sensations. And you couldn’t turn it off. 
But you didn’t say any of this, you just nodded. “I understand, Bucky.”
He rubbed your back in acknowledgment. Master of trying to change subjects, he said next, “So, do I get to ask you now about your career?”
You let out a weak giggle. “I guess so.”
“Did you always dream of serving coffee?”
“No,” you shook your head. “It just landed in my lap after a not-so-successful college stunt. But I’ve made it work and, really, if I hadn’t kept it, I never would’ve met Steve.” A light bulb went off. “Then I never would’ve found you.”
Bucky’s grip on you tightened at your words. You could practically hear his heart pounding out of his chest. His hold on you felt so right, so at home, you realized as a little tug fell on your heart after your admission. 
“Never thought I’d be genuinely thankful for coffee.”
You gave a small laugh at that and got comfier in Bucky’s arms. Eventually, you two drifted off to sleep, totally engrossed in the feeling of one another. A feeling much more innocent, but just as strong. 
That night, as Bucky held you like you were his last lifeline in this world, you had no nightmares. It was like they didn’t even dare to come back. This gave you just the bloom of hope that everything was indeed falling into place as all makers of fate had intended. 
The dream was like a soothing lullaby. You were treated to a scene of Bucky shopping. He seemed to be at some fruit stand, picking out produce. The feelings were a bit odd, more like he was lost yet focused in the moment. But they were much milder, much more welcoming, than anything else from the past images. You accepted it. Took it in greatly. As you slept, you felt you two got closer. You heard Bucky at one point sigh in content.
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fangirl--writes · 3 years
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A Dance. Jeremiah Valeska x Reader
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 AN: Hello!  Long Time no see huh? I have started writing again and what better way to start than with the softest boi! 
Link to the song the Reader plays: https://youtu.be/pIgZ7gMze7A
Let me know what you think and if there should be a part two?? 
I was aiming this is right before and during S04/E17 
*****************************************************************
It was still.
Soundless suave from the occasional tick of the old hands of the grandfather clock placed elegantly in the corner of the spacious room.  Dust was gathering on the table tops; you had been ignoring it for about a week or so.
Sometimes it gets to him-
Sometimes.
Your significant other, Xander Wilde.
Lately he’d been holing himself in his office, or on a conference call with his associates.
The stoic, ginger haired man was busy, you understood this.
Owning your own company was a lot.
Your leg began to bounce softly off the edge of your cushioned chair, tapping against the plush fabric to a rhythm familiar as you turned the next page in your book.
He was busy sure- but he made time for you.
Dinners, take out naturally delivered by his proxy.  Movie nights, occasionally spent curled up on the couch that now sat neglected on the other side of the room.
Your favorite however; was the times he’d flip on the record player; the corner of his lip would twinge in the faintest of grins. His knowing grin as you called it, he’d usually flash one as he selected the music for your dance.
Xander’s ocean eyes would drift over to you, peeking from over the top of his glasses as the record would start sending you into a near giggle fit every time.
He’d reach out, sweep you off your feet and gently glide around the room in an endless nonsensical pattern. His hand was on your waist as he led you in an imaginary waltz, pulling you ever so close your noses nearly touched.
He was different then, his face would drop into his rare soft grin and his eyes, you would dare say light up watching you. Your hands crawling up his shoulder and gliding down to hold his to hold him closer.
You’d lay your head on his chest and let the world, the worries, the work go.
It was nothing when you carelessly stepped across the carpeted living room, twirling about without a care in the world.  
You took a breath marking the page in your book.  You’d reached out to his proxy, and requested a new record, something with a little more…kick.
Well, new was perhaps not the right term but kick, definitely yes.
You rose from your plush chair, stretching your back as you set the book down. Your eyes laid on the solid wooden door that separated you from your beloved.
If layers of dust and neglected dishes piled in the sink wouldn’t make him see you, perhaps this would.
With a careful hand you spun the vinyl. The cover was worn and slightly tattered from use, you inspected it momentarily before pulling out the record. Gently you laid it on the turntable, setting into place before slinking over to the door.
You sucked in a breath as you paused hesitant at the door.
“Xander?” his name tumbled from your mouth as you rasped against the heavy wood.
No response.
Perhaps he didn’t hear you.
Again, you knocked calling his name louder.
Silence met your reserve as you let out a small huff, impatient.
The wheels turned in your head as you stared into empty space. A soft smile twitched on the corner of your lips.
Working is one thing, but ignoring you is another.
With narrowed eyes you strode back to the turntable, with a flick of your wrist you switched it on eyes darting back to the door again, just in case.
Gently you pushed the dial for the volume, going about as high as it could before setting the needle down to put your plan in motion.
The smooth instrumentals sent your body swaying as the music blared through the den.
You shifted the weight in your heels as you twisted about keeping a watchful eye on the door.
The music swept through the room, sending you into a state as your mind focused on the beat.  
You put the boom-boom into my heart
You send my soul sky-high
When your lovin' starts
You swept around the furniture spinning and twirling around aimlessly, singing as loudly as you could manage. No longer was the warm reserved space a living room, melting away in your mind’s eye to stage, open and wide just for you. The soft lamp lighting transformed to bright spot lights that strobed the walls.
Jitterbug into my brain
Goes a bang-bang-bang
‘Til my feet do the same
The words fell from your mouth as if on cue, your chest heaving as you shouted out into the invisible crowd.
You didn’t notice as the door to Xander’s study cracked open, his face twisted into a disgruntled sneer as he looked out into the living room, annoyed his work flow was interrupted.  The walls were shaking. His concentration broken as the acescent rumbling pounded through the door.  His chest tightened as he prepared to scold you for being so loud.
His brows rose into a curious arch as he caught sight of your form twirling about. Your nose wrinkled as your face contorted fixated on the words as you sang blissfully unaware of his presence.
For a split second he contemplated turning the music down, alerting you to his presence and going back to his work, those thoughts were quickly discarded as he found himself rooted in place eyes glued to you.
He leaned against the wooden frame, mouth still agape as his eyes followed your enraptured movements, you were so enthralling, the way your hips swayed and your body danced about, wrapped in your own little world.
You take the grey skies outta’ my waay
You make the sun shine brighter than Doris Day
You turned a bright spark into a flame
My beats per minute never been the same
You were singing… about him.
Xander felt his body tense, his dark brows furrowed in thought. Recently, he’d been neglecting you for his most recent project. He’d skipped dinners taking them in his office, or not eating at all, working so late into the night that he’d come out and find you curled up on the couch, the book you were reading hanging loosely in your hand or fallen forgotten on the floor.  
Each time his heart panged with regret, yet, he still overlooked you…
After all this time, you still cared about him. He noticed when you set out meals for him lovingly wrapped up with a hand written note or brewed coffee before you fell asleep. His eyes fell to the table and the dust that was layered on its surface… usually the two of you would clean together. An activity that calmed you both, a menial task. But one that was fun when he was with you, the way you’d turn dusting or dishes into a game or just a time to reflect and enjoy.
He admired you, finding your sense of wonder and forever finding joy in something so small endearing.
As if on their own, he felt his body throw its self forward his feet following suit. He reached for your hand; his face flushed as he took hold of your wrist, your eyes opening in realization.
“X..Xander…” his name was soft on your lips as you peered up at him.
Your eyes sending him into a flustered frenzy he moved to spin you, trying to match the rhythm as he tottered with the music.
This wasn’t the type he was used to; the soft melodies of classical were typical in your shared home, gentle waltzing that was slow and simple.
You giggled as he clumsily danced with you, his fingers laced with yours as he awkwardly watched his feet as not to step on you. Your fingertips softly lifted his chin to meet your bright gaze, wordlessly you beckoned him to follow you.  He sucked down a needed breath copying your motions, quickly coming in to his own as he spun you in his arms.
His blush faded as he moved with you, eyes settling on your face. He felt his cheeks crack as a faint line of a smile graced his lips. Xander cherished these moments with you, savored them, however; he couldn’t force back the slivers of voices whispering in his ears.
Fraud
If only she knew the real you…
She wouldn’t be dancing cheek to cheek with a monster...
 Your head tipped as your lover stared ahead aimlessly his blue eyes faded behind his glasses. His chest steadily falling in shallow breathes as his grip loosened on your hands.
You been through so many of these with him, they’d become more frequent in recent months and you couldn’t figure out why.
Gently you pushed yourself against his chest as you caressed his cheek with the pad of your thumb, gingerly reaching to press your forehead against his.
He shifted under your hand, sweeping his arm to your waist to pull you closer as his eyes closed as he basked in your touch.
“Darling…”
His voice was barely a whisper as he pressed into your hand.
“I… need to
 “Sir-
The urgent voice of his proxy pulled his head away from yours. Your eyes flickered to her rigid form in the door way to the labyrinth.
Immediately Xander straightened himself. Your hand falling to the way side as you took a step back.
He took a in cool breath, collecting his thoughts as he adjusted his suit jacket. His calculated eyes turned to you again; a look of faint concern etched on his face.
Xander’s tone shifted.
“Ecco take Y/N to our room.” 
It wasn’t a suggestion, rather a command.
His hands reached to squeeze yours in some attempt to soothe you as he stepped closer. 
The woman in the door way quickly made a move towards you.
“What’s going on?” Your voice hitched in your throat as you spoke, gaze bouncing confused between the two figures.
“Xander, Please-
You spoke again, voice cracked with worry as Ecco touched your arm nodding to her boss.
His eyes were downcast, his gaze going past you to the floor as his head shook softly. He pulled away swiftly moving past you before you could latch on to him.
“Ecco will keep you safe.”
The young blonde pursed her lips as her grip tightened, her voice was hard as she pulled you from your spot on the floor.
“Come with me miss.”
“Xander Wilde-
Your feet were firm as you rooted yourself down; your voice was harsh as you called after him again.
You will tell me what is going on!”
He paused just before he slipped away from view, your tone causing him to freeze; hesitating only for a mere moment before continuing on his way his eyes front.
You felt weak as he vanished down the slinking hallways of the maze.
 Ecco tugged at your arm, now half dragging you along as she led you away from the den. Your eyes glued to the spot where he stopped, hoping he’d come back for you.
The record was forgotten now, music long over. The needle scratching endlessly in the silence of your screams, a faint memory of what was only an hour ago. You were blissfully unaware then, completely and utterly clueless to how your life would burn in the turmoil of what was coming.
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Text
Leaving Home
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Captain America: The First Avenger
Pairing: 1940s! Bucky Barnes x Female! Reader
Summary: Bucky gets enlisted. Him and reader have a magical last night together.
Word Count: 1445
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, minors DNI, slight angst, unprotected sex, mention of bodily fluids
Authors Note: not everything may be accurate to the 1940s, war or Bucky’s story. My apologies! Enjoy loves <3
Main Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist
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You are waiting at your small New York home in anticipation if your husband managed to enlist in the army or not. On one side, you were happy for James because this was something he had wanted to do for a while, but on the other hand, you were anxious and worried about him traveling to an unknown country raging with war and destruction.
You waited on the couch with a book in hand for him to arrive. The book had been on page 52 for a while as you didn’t manage to take in what you were reading while you waited. The clock on the wall showing that it was well over 3 o’clock. He was supposed to be home way before that. Where was he? Your leg was bouncing up and down in a fast rhythm as the nerves started to take over when he wasn’t on time. It must be the traffic, or maybe he got held up with something else?
The handle of the doorknob turning made you snap up from the book your face was buried in. “Hey, doll, I’m home.” A smile was brightening your complexion at finally hearing his voice filling the quiet house. You got up, smoothing out your dress, to meet him at the door. “Hi, honey. How did the-” You didn’t need to finish the question, as the grin on his face and the uniform were the equivalents to him getting enlisted.
The smile from you dropped just by an inch when you realized what this meant. “You got your orders?” “Yep. The 107th, Sergeant James Barnes, shipping out to England first thing in the morning.”
The slight smile you had left turned into a frown in hearing the news that he’s departing already tomorrow. You thought you would have a little more time before he left for months on end. “Why so early? Where’s the rush?” “I’m sorry, honey, I know it’s on short notice. I wish I could stay longer.” He closed the short distance between you two to take your hands in his bigger ones, laying a kiss upon them.
“I’ve made arrangements for you and me to have one magical last night together in the city as an apology to you.” The promise of a beautiful last evening with the man of your dreams brightened your spirit immensely. “Show me the way then, Sergeant.”
Later...
“Keep your eyes closed. Trust me. Don’t open them yet.” You always trusted him, so obeying his order was in no way a problem for you. His hand held yours as you walked up some stairs in what felt like all eternity. “Where are you taking me, Bucky?” “You’ll see. We’re almost there. Just hang on.” He opened a heavy door, and the bustling noise of the streets of New York was heard faintly in your ears. The tiniest of a cool breeze felt on your skin, indicating that you were pretty high up.
“Now open them.” The sight your eyes met when they opened was magical. James had set up a fairytale date on the rooftop for you. Twinkling lights, wine, sweets, and just now, you heard the soft music of Frank Sinatra playing from the radio. “This is so beautiful,” you gasped excitingly, “sweetheart, you didn’t have to do this all for me.” He didn’t lie when he said it would be an enchanting night.
“Of course I did. Everything for my beautiful wife. Now come dance with your husband.” His hand was held out for you to take up on the offer. Dancing with your husband? Nothing could be better than that. James pulled you flush against him as his hand rested at the small of your back, the other one finding your hand to hold.
The calm sway of your bodies was pleasing. His words that were only meant for you whispered ever so softly in your ear, making butterflies emit from within you.
Once in a while, he would spin you around, which made both of you laugh out in glee. The dress you were wearing was twirling around, and you had never looked more beautiful in his eyes. This was the picture of you he would imagine when he was abroad and felt alone and scared without you by his side. His beautiful wife being as carefree as she had ever looked. The laugh he would remember from you would fill his head up at night, making him sleep that much better.
The rest of the night was spent with drinks, sweets, and even more dancing ending with you and him sitting on the blankets and pillows scattered on the tile floor.
Your faces inches from one another as you talked about everything and nothing. His hand that had a grasp on the back of your naked thigh giving off a squeeze and caress ever so often had your mind racing to some hot and heavy thoughts.
James felt the sinful energy radiating off you, and he didn’t think for another second in kissing you. Lips were moved against each other in hurried sync, desperate to feel one another.
He pushed you down to lay on the back while he found his place on top of you where he belonged. The passion of his lips moved to that sensitive spot connecting your neck and shoulder, kissing and loving on the skin there. The sensation made you shudder in delight and let out a whimper of satisfaction. After some time, they travel to the top of your breasts. Kissing, sucking, and biting on the flesh. If he could, he would spend the rest of his life worshiping your body every second of every day.
“Is someone going to see us?” You asked in a panic when you remembered where you were. He looked around. It seemed relatively safe for his liking. “Don’t worry, princess. No one will see us.” It looked like he was sure, and that was the signal you needed to continue.
Clothes were removed all the way to feel all up on one another. Once he pushed inside of you, a gasp of pleasure escaped your open lips. The feel of his length filling you up was intoxicating as he slammed his hips against yours over and over again.
Legs were enclosed around his hips to force him more into your tightness. Your nails were making marks on his back when they dragged downwards as you were close to completion.
“Let go for me, baby,” he growled in your ear.
He didn’t need to tell you twice. Your eyes fluttered shut, and your back arched high in the sky as waves after waves of pleasure came over you. The feel of you pulsating around him brought him to the finish line just a few moments later.
The next morning…
It was time to say goodbye, and you had promised yourself not to cry. You wanted to be strong and brave for him, so he didn't need to worry about leaving you all alone for months on end. But you couldn’t help it when a few tears escaped when the car to pick him up pulled in front of the house. The last moment of you two on the porch exchanging words of love was interrupted.
“This is goodbye, doll.” “Oh, Bucky!” Your arms slung around his body to feel him one last time. The tears from you wetting his uniform some, as the side of your face rested against his chest, taking the last advantage to listen to the beats of his steady heart.
“Hey, look at me.” His fingers lifted your chin to look into his crystal blue eyes one last time. “Don’t cry,” the pad of his thumb whipped as good as they would the tears that were falling, “it’s going to be ok. I promise.” “Please just come back to me,” you begged in a whisper.
He knew he couldn’t promise something he didn’t know of. He wished he could with his whole being that he would come home safe and sound to his love. “I will fight through hell to try and come back to you, my love, that I will promise you.”
His lips found yours one last time in a kiss that held so many emotions. Love, fear, desperation, need. “Goodbye, Y/N.” He picked up his bags and took a seat in the car. One last time he took a look at you through his window. Sending you a warm smile in your direction for you to remember him. You watched and waved until the car was no longer in sight, begging the universe to bring him home in one piece.
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draggingthedregs · 3 years
Note
Hello! I love your writing so much! Can you write some kanej with Kaz being protective of Inej? If not that’s completely fine :) thank u!
a/n: okay so I always really struggle with “protective Kaz” things because I feel like he knows that she can most definitely take care of herself and he respects her for that. So this is what I came up with to try and meet in the middle. There’s that scene in Six of Crows where Kaz sends Inej to get rid of Rojakke (is that how you spell it? Idk he was in one scene, his name is not the point) and then when they’re back in his office that night he asks like “Did he put up a fight?” and she says “Nothing I couldn’t handle” and he says “Not what I asked” so thats where the idea for this came from, thank you bye. 
word count: 2634
There was something about the floor of the Crow Club that set Kaz at ease.
Its endless cacophony of coins bouncing from table to floor, the spinning of Makkers Wheel, the laughter floating onto the street, and, his personal favorite, the flipping that only accompanied a deck of cards. Somedays he thought he’d be content to shuffle at a table forever.
It was then that Inej pushed through the entryway, shaking off the rain that rarely ceased to pour over the crowded city. She pulled her hood down, her inky hair braided into a long rope laying against her shoulder. Kaz traced every inch of her, as he often did when she entered a room: the slope of her nose, the smile she flashed to the greetings shouted in her direction, the knives strapped to her hips. He tried to ignore the voice in the back of his head that reminded him he’d also be content to be with her forever.
There were times he hated the things that he would notice, hated how his brain slipped past the innocent intention of watching to a sinister place of touch and consequence. He flipped the thoughts over in his head, studying them from every angle like he would a card trick, trying to mold them into different pictures. But the images froze in place anyway; the feel of her skin against his burned like fire, even in an illusion.
Most of all, he hated that he couldn’t force these delusions into reality, couldn’t touch her how he wanted, couldn’t force the bile down and only feel Inej’s warmth.  
As she approached him, nodding to the private game rooms at the back of the club, giving him a clear view of her, he saw that something was amiss. Scarlet bloomed through her vest and onto her sleeve, trailing down to her thigh. He followed her, shutting the heavy door behind them and turning its complex series of locks. She’s upright. That’s all you should care about. 
“The Exchange was crawling with Stadwatch. Security must be tight since the incident.” 
“Did they see you?”
Inej practically scoffed, leaning her weight against the wooden table. “No. But I’m sure they’ll find someone who fits their bill. You know as well as I do, the council will want this quieted soon.”
Kaz nodded. Two weeks ago, the Exchange had been robbed, and though it was never publicly released, Kaz knew exactly what was stolen. After all, he had all the stocks and shipment papers locked in his safe as they spoke. 
Roeder had been the one to pull off the job originally, this being one of the few things Kaz had required a spider for while she was busy at sea. He had done a mediocre job, but he was sloppy with locks and leaving the place as he’d found it. Going back to the scene of the crime seemed too risky a gamble but when Inej returned, she knew she could scrape it. And Kaz wasn’t going to start doubting the Wraith’s abilities now. 
He flipped through the file she handed him. To anyone else, it may have looked useless, just pages and pages of numbers and times, scratchy handwritten tables filled with nonsense. But to him, and to a mercher with half a whit, this was key to investing. With the talleys and dates in hand, he would know what shipments to bank on and where to place his shares for the next few months. 
“As always, the Wraith pulls through.”
Inej nodded and pulled her hood up once more. “You’re welcome.”
Kaz gave her another once over, slower than intended. “What happened?” He blurted, his voice sounding like a low growl in his throat.  
Inej looked down at herself, brows knitted, studying the blood on her trousers. “Bullet or two from a guard just shooting at shadows.” With her brief summary of events, she took her weight off the table, readying herself for the journey back into the wet.
Kaz felt a sinking in his chest at the thought of her walking away from him, even if it was just to her apartment, and he hated himself for it. Now especially with her covered in blood, he couldn’t stomach the thought of her leaving. Without meaning to, he had taken himself back to before she had left.
It had been Inej’s last night before heading to sea when they had tried to pretend they were normal, that there wasn’t still so much between them. Kaz sat next to her on his bed, bad leg out in front of him, avoiding her gaze. 
“We don’t have to do this at all.”
But he did. Kaz had to prove that he had come further than this. I can best this… 
When she set sail the next morning, the feeling of failure settled deep within him, right beside the feeling that this time, he may never get her back from the sea. 
Now, he couldn’t help but stop her. “Inej-” he began. 
She turned, her hand resting on the doors heavy handle.
He made up the steps between them to stand beside her. Kaz forced himself to give any semblance of explanation, knowing that he’d promised to give her what she deserved and knowing that he was currently failing. “Let me walk with you.”
Inej nodded, dropping her hand as Kaz unlocked the door and opened it for her. He felt awkward, and quite frankly stupid; opening it as if she was some pretty girl that couldn’t handle the difference between whether to push or pull. She strided through anyway and he followed, silently cursing himself and hoping the grimace on his face looked normal for his temperament. Once they’d made it to the street, she slowed to walk beside him. 
At first, neither of them spoke. Then, in her gentle and hushed tone, perhaps to avoid his inevitable questions about her evening, “Am I getting a personal escort through the Barrel?”
Kaz needn’t look down to feel the smile in her voice. “Is that what you’d prefer to call it?”
“It isn’t exactly an evening stroll down the canal, is it?”
“I suppose not.” He cringed at the sound of his own rasp, smashing against the lift of her voice like waves against stone. Though from what he could tell, she didn’t do the same. Inej only shrugged, tugging her hood forward against the drizzle. 
“I only meant that I should feel lucky to get the King of the Barrel to myself for the night.”
Kaz thought he might keel over. “I am a busy man, but I still find time to survey my kingdom.”
Inej only rolled her eyes and kept her gaze straight forward. A moment of silence nestled between them, leaving only the sound off the East Stave hanging in the air. After fighting with himself for what seemed like far too long, his gaze settled atop her.
“Yes?”
Kaz swallowed hard, “Did you miss Ketterdam?” Did you miss me? 
She considered his question, and to him, the silence stretched through the air like a rubber band about to break. 
“I did. More than I thought I would.” Inej finally relented. Her voice had drifted to a somber place, a quiet stillness replacing the humor she’d had minutes before. 
They had turned down a back alley, the darkness consuming them in sore contrast to the dazzling lights of the Stave. Their footsteps echoed in a syncopated rhythm, his awkward gait and cane paired with her near-soundless steps. 
Maybe it was the high of having her back, walking next to him through Ketterdam as they’d done so many times before, but he hadn’t realized the direction they’d been walking. They approached the Slat, its crooked frame jutting out from the foundation at a welcoming tilt. He glanced down to Inej once more, watching as she took in the building, trying to see it through her eyes, as he wished to see much of the world. 
“Is the Captain afraid of her old nest?”
If he had intended it as a jab, she didn’t take it as such. Inej shook her head once, “It just feels like home…” 
She moved before he did, taking a deep breath of the stale air inside as she stepped through the threshold. There was movement, as there always was, but the Slat was quiet this time of night and Kaz was thankful. It meant that, selfishly, he could keep Inej upstairs and to himself for as long as he could come up with things to talk about. Perhaps they’d even sit on his bed and she would allow him to make up for the last time they’d found themselves there. 
Kaz marveled at her as she took the creaky stairs ahead of him, the steps creaking beneath his weight after seemingly not registering her. His eyes once again wandered to the blood stains that covered her. He felt a hair-pin trigger go off in his chest and suddenly, there was anger. 
Stop that. She isn’t yours to save. 
Inej waited for him to open the door, sidestepping as they both now stood on the landing. If Kaz hadn’t just been studying her, he might have missed her change in demeanor and the way she shifted her weight to the wall behind her.  
“Inej.”
“Hm?”
Kaz attempted to even his tone. “How bad are they?” 
“What?”
His voice sounded like stones grinding against one another, “The bullet wounds.”
She shrugged but he could see the stress of the evening in her features. Her limbs seemed heavy and her eyelids fought to open with every blink. With a shove, Kaz unlocked his office door, forcing the warped wood open and, without hesitation, Inej followed him in, taking in the room as she clicked the locks back into place.
He leaned his cane against the makeshift desk and shucked his gloves off as he approached the cabinet beneath his wash basin, digging through its drawers for gauze and shears. Behind him, he heard the familiar creak of his window opening. The smell of rain against the cobblestones wafted toward him. 
“Your window seat has felt neglected. Your crows too.”
“Does that mean you stopped feeding them while I was gone?”
No. They reminded me of you. I couldn’t let another piece of you go. “They’re scavengers. I’m sure they managed.”
It was then that Kaz turned to see her standing by his bed. Inej looked up, her cheeks flushing red like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t have been. He only walked over, setting the bandages on the thin mattress. “So I don’t have to find a heartrender for you.”
“They really aren’t that bad-”
“You’ve bled through your clothes. They’re bad enough.”
Inej cleared her throat as she began removing layers of knives and clothes. Kaz’s eyes roved over her, the pounding in his chest growing louder. He hated it. 
 Her arms and shoulders were covered in fresh scars, some of them still red and scabbed, and the bruises on her ribs were still deep purple. 
“Slavers don’t give up their cargo easily.” Inej’s voice came out with caution, as if she was waiting to see his reaction. 
His gaze met hers, voice carving into the air like a rusted blade. “Where are they all now?”
“Dead.”
A sense of pride cracked through him as a rare smile settled on his lips. Kaz nodded. “Good.” 
She picked up a strip of bandage, wrapping it around the bullet wound on her bicep, silence filling the space between them. Inej didn’t need to look up to feel the weight of his eyes on her. A flush crept to the tops of her ears. “I didn’t want you to see.”
It was rare for Kaz Brekker to be confused and yet, here he was. 
“I thought you might kill someone. Or start to doubt that I could handle myself.”
“I could never doubt you. Only a fool would.” It was only after he said it that he realized it had been aloud. 
Inej tied off the bandage then glanced down to the blood on her pants.  
“I can-”
“No.” She said, finally making eye contact with him again. “Stay.”
For his sake and hers, Kaz turned his head to avoid staring as she shimmied out of the bloodied fabric. 
She sat on the edge of the bed and poked around for any bullet fragments, the muscles in her thigh tensing, the dried blood on her skin looking black. Inej was just as strong as ever; all her limbs built of corded muscle coated in the lithe grace of an acrobat, just as he remembered. Despite his better judgement, Kaz took a long look at her. 
It’s shame that eats men whole. He could feel it gnawing at him as he attempted to push away the image of her bare thighs against his sheets. 
“Kaz, can you-?” She nodded to the scissors, her hands stuck at an awkward angle around her leg, the apprehension on her face clear. 
He picked them up and took a deep breath before sitting down beside her. When he leaned over, he was careful not to touch her. Her breath stirred the hair on the back of his neck. One turn of his head and their lips would have been inches apart. This reminded him far too much of the hotel washroom; he only hoped it would end better. 
Kaz cut the bandage gently, taking the end from her and tying it, his knuckles grazing against her skin. Panic hit him before anything else, afraid he had overstepped. It took him a moment to realize there was no revulsion roiling through him. 
“Inej-”
“It’s alright… Thank you.”
He nodded, grabbing what was left of the bandages and the shears and placing them on top of his dresser. Then he opened one of his drawers, rummaging through the mess of clothes until he found what he had been looking for. 
Kaz handed her a pair of cotton sleep trousers. “I can’t imagine yours are salvageable.”
Inej smiled, sliding them over her legs. They were huge on her. And though they hadn’t discussed her sleeping arrangements for the evening, it appeared she would be staying there. 
He sat back down, staring at his bare hands; the hands that had just graced her without trouble or hesitation. She reached over, threading her fingers through his, and studied him, watching for the shift. But it never came. 
“Will you lay with me?”
At that, he looked up. 
In front of him was a girl who deserved so much more than Dirtyhands. A girl who made the sea cower and made the sun look dull. A girl who could have done anything she wished in life with ease and grace. And yet- she was sat in his bed, holding his hand, and patiently waiting for the semblances of affection he could provide. 
Kaz felt himself nod. 
She pushed herself back until she was against the wooden headboard. They both moved slowly, carefully placing their limbs so there was no overlap. 
Then, he was laying beside her; both of their heads turned to study each other.
“Thank you.” Inej’s voice nearly a whisper. 
The minutes stretched into hours, and Kaz lay listening to her breathing. I will have you without armor. 
Well after twelve bells, the cadence of sleep seemed to grab hold of him, weighing heavy on his body. As his eyes drifted shut, he hoped that there would be more nights like this: nights with Inej close by his side and stillness in his mind. 
He reached for her hand in the dark and promised he would not let go come morning. He would never let go of her again. 
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dracosathenaeum · 3 years
Text
Great Love Story | Part 2 | D.M.
A/N: I will apologise that this took so long. This is honestly 70% smut but don't worry part 3 will fix all the loose ends and should come out faster than this did lmao
Warnings: cheating, smut, angst
Word Count: 2,858
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PART 1
“I thought I told you to keep quiet.”
You stared open mouthed at the sight of Pansy pushing a blonde against the wall of a hidden corridor. Moans poured out of her mouth as Pansy nipped at her neck; fingers underneath the blonde’s skirt moving in motions she recognised all too well.
A mixture of embarrassment and anger flooded through you; the same kind you felt watching Draco that day in the great hall. How was this fair? Pansy had taken everything from you, but she didn’t even want him. Had she taken him from you just to prove a point? You weren’t good enough for him and you knew that; but it didn’t mean you didn’t love him any less than he deserved to be loved.
Was she toying with the both of you? You had seen the way he had looked at her in the great hall but when you thought back you hadn’t even bothered to focus on Pansy’s expression or actions through your jealousy tainted vision.
You pulled your eyes away from the two lovers, rushing towards your common room once you realised, you’d probably been stood there a second too long. It would be more than embarrassing to say the least if they had caught you staring at them.
You kept your head down, eyes cast on the floor as you mulled over what you would say to Draco if you decided to say anything at all that was. As it happened you had far less time to deliberate than you had thought, you had been so worried about whether or not to tell him that you didn’t notice him standing in your path.
“Running late to your dick appointment?” A sneer had ripped out of Draco, a side of Draco you were used to seeing but not receiving.
You stopped dead in your tracks and let loose your guilt without a second thought.
“Pansy is cheating on you. With Luna. I’m really sorry.” It doesn’t matter if he didn’t want you back, he deserved to know. You were just being a decent human being; well that’s what you told yourself anyways. He looked at you with a hint anger in his eyes but at least you knew he had believed your words, well, at least you had hoped.
He had quickly schooled his expression into a blank stare, nothing to betray how he truly felt. “Thank you, I’ll speak to her about it.” Curt and to the point, no openings for further conversations. He walked away from you this time and it was clear what this had meant.
As a heavy weight in your stomach overpowered the hammering of your heart, you realise it was hope you had been feeling; hope that had fuelled your heart but maybe now your traitorous heart would realise he was gone for good. How many times would you allow yourself to hope before finally realising he wasn’t coming back to you?
//
You were going to go mad. A 7-page essay due the next week and you couldn’t understand half the divination gibberish laid out onto the pages in front of you. Usually Draco would be sat with you, both teasing and teaching you.
He’d mock Professor Trelawny; impersonating her to the point you had tears in your eyes and stitches in your sides. Though most of his impressions had been meant to be a mockery; half of what you had managed to scribble down plus pages of waffle would usually get you one of the top grades in the class. This would only feed Draco’s ego, so you never told him but as you sit swimming in tea leaves you realise, you’d do anything to hear his stupid words again.
“Uh I don’t mean to interrupt but do you need some help?” You look up, red flushing your cheeks as you remembered you weren’t alone in the library, casually ripping at your own hair.
“That obvious I’m struggling?” Theo only replied with a soft grin before instantly delving into some story from 4th year. Conversation flowed easily between the two of you and you were glad for a change in atmosphere from a friendly face.
That was how Draco had found you; head tilted back, a look of pure enjoyment across your features. He hadn’t heard your laugh in a while, and he hadn’t realised how much he missed it; though his reminiscing only lasted so long before he realised who you were sat with.
Theo Notts. He had the same friendship with Blaise as with Theo and he trusted him. He really did. But it didn’t matter that he had been a lifelong friend, what mattered was the way he looked at you as you laughed. The same way he knew he looked at you. Or so his brain convinced him.
“You’re welcome.”
“Welcome for what?” You wiped the tears from your eyes as you asked, still trying to catch your breathe. You had spoken to Blaise and Theo a hundred times before but never as a friend, only as Draco’s girlfriend. He had made you laugh harder than you had in months with one simple story about your loony professor.
He didn’t have to answer before you found yourself dragged out of the library. You had been so focused on not tripping over your own two feet that you hadn’t seen the wink Theo had thrown at Draco and the scowl Draco had thrown back at him.
You didn’t have to look up to know who had pulled you away, the familiar feel of cool fingers around your hand and the press of his signet ring was enough to know it was Draco.
Once you had steadied your footing (and gathered the courage to look up) you saw the familiar door of the room of requirement opening for the both of you. He slammed the door closed behind you before pushing you up against it, trapping you against it with his body.
“Was he the one you’ve been shagging?”
You laughed. Perhaps even harder than you had with Theo just seconds before hand, laughed so hard Draco had to pull away to give you room to breathe and to clutch your sides as you doubled over. The irony in this was concerning; this was the second time he had acted out, as if returning to the role of jealous boyfriend that was no longer his to fill out.
Your wiped at the tears falling from your eyes for the second time that day; evening out your breathes to reply, “Who does it matter who I shag when you’ve probably gotten every STD out there from Pansy?”
You barely finish your sentence before he has you against the wall again, mouth angrily moving over yours. It was like listening to your favourite childhood song where the lyrics would come back to you without having to even think about it. Your lips moved together the same as they had done a thousand times before, your arms finding themselves linked around his neck whilst his own rested on your waist pulling you flush against his body.
“Draco wait-”
“You don’t get to talk without my permission, understood?”
You nod as his lips move over the column of your neck; you were too far gone to worry over him feeling your pulse practically jumping out of your neck.
“Use words.”
“Yes” you all but moan.
He gathers your wrists in one hand to pin above your head as he brings his mouth back to yours; his free hand gliding up the thigh that’s hiked across his hip, hand dipping under the skirt with ease as he’d done so many times previously.
Just as his fingers reach where you needed him the most they stopped. Your lips stop their movement against his; worried he’d suddenly snap out of what was happening and realise what was happening. Worried that he’d leave you. Again.
His hand leaves your skirt to tilt your chin to face him as he pulls away, a string of saliva connecting your lips. “Do you want to stop now, or do you want to keep going?”
Your heart skipped a beat, consent was the bare minimum and you knew that, but it was the way he had looked at you as he asked, the softness in his tone and in his eyes that made you think the old him had come back to you. That made you want to beg for him not to stop.
You opened your eyes again once his lips started their ministrations back on the column of your neck. You had wanted this for the past month, you had wanted his attention and his love so why is that when you were finally getting it you weren’t so sure anymore.  
“If you’re uncomfortable we can stop but don’t feel guilty about Parkinson.” It was like a bucket of cold water had been thrown over your fevered body. Pansy. How could you have forgotten he was a taken man?
You knew that this was so wrong, knew that in your bones but some sick twisted part of your brain thought that if she could have Draco and throw him away to be with Luna and Merlin knows who else; this was just you claiming back what was rightfully yours. Right?
“Are you going to give me an answer? Consent would be greatly appreciated.”
“Please” your eyes held steady as you answered, this was it, this was you winning him back. You ignored your brain; the thoughts that caused a weight to hang over your brain. And instead you focused on full your heart felt; of how comfortable your body felt to be back in his arms.
“I need a yes or no.”
“Yes.”
The switch was suddenly flicked back on as Draco wasted no time, two fingers dipping into your mouth that you greedily sucked on without a moment’s hesitation.
His other hand had reached down and back up your skirt, you had thought he’d simply pull the cotton to one side, but he instead tore at it, throwing the scrap of fabric carelessly beside you.
“I liked that pair!” Was what you had tried to say but with two fingers caressing your tongue it was more like incoherent dribbling.
Once he was apparently satisfied with you, his coated fingers swiftly moved to part your folds before slipping inside of you. His hand that have previously ruined your favourite pair of underwear drew circles around your clit as his other set a merciless rhythm inside of you, deliberately avoiding that spot inside of you that would have you keening over.
Draco kept his head close to yours, but each time you’d try to reach up to join your lips he’d pull away slightly, “I want to hear you.”
You clenched hard around his fingers at his words, it had been so long since he had touched you in any way and your fingers just weren’t enough for you anymore. Not after getting used to what Draco would give you.
“I’m so close. Please don’t stop.” His fingers kept at their pace, but just as your stomach tensed, just as you were about to fall over the edge. He pulled both hands pull away from you, wrapping around your waist to pick you up instead.
You didn’t have time to be angry at him, half a groan falling from your lips before his mouth claimed yours, hands ripping at the rest of your clothes as you fell backwards onto the bed, Draco falling on top of you. Your own fingers fumbled with his belt and tore at his shirt when the buttons refused to undo.
“Get on your knees and face the mirror.” You didn’t need to be told twice; hands resting on the end of the bed as your knees spread to accommodate him, eyes finding his in the mirror.
You watched his eyes as they traced up and down your bare body, appreciating the view of both sides due to the mirror. He lined the tip of his cock with your entrance; your lips trapped between your own teeth as you waited for him to give you what you had been waiting weeks for.
He slid in with ease, but you winced slightly at the pain that followed the pleasure. He stilled, allowed you to adjust, hands running across your body and mouth at your neck trying to reduce the stretch as he bottomed out.
You clenched around him as a sign he could move but he instead brought your upper body up with him, so your back was to his chest. You could both see everything in the mirror in this position; his hands that cupped your breasts and supported you as well as the place his body joined with yours. You couldn’t feel anything but him; surrounded by the scent, feel and taste of him and there was nowhere else you’d ever want to be.
His first thrust had moans falling from your lips, the same you had heard Luna try to muffle the same morning.
The second had you trying to squeeze your legs together at the pleasure, his tensed thighs not allowing you to move an inch. You had gone so long without this, so long that the pleasure was too much.
The third had you falling apart, head falling forward as you came hard; the build up from weeks on unsatisfactory orgasms and him not letting you over the edge before had you coming in an embarrassingly short amount of time.
Draco had continued his thrusts throughout your orgasm but as you looked into the mirror the cocky smirk on his face gave away his true feelings. Cocky bastard.
“Good girls don’t cum without permission.” You whimpered. You were so sensitive, but you weren’t done yet, not by any means.
“I’m sorry, I’ll be good I promise.” He apparently liked that answer as he shifted his hips slightly to angle his hips to repeatedly hit that one spot he had been avoiding so far. You let out a sound you didn’t know you were capable as his continued his thrusts that had your thighs shaking and thoughts empty.
“No one else could make you feel this good, I’m the only one aren’t I love?” You let out something between a cry and a moan when he stopped his actions, waiting for your answer. You were half delirious, hips shifting against his as you tried to bring back the friction that you needed.
When it was clear he wouldn’t be moving again until he got the response, he wanted you w
racked your brain, “Only you, it’s only ever been you I swear.” If your mind was slightly clearing you might’ve seen the irony in this, the idea that he was it for you, but he had someone else waiting for him in bed.
Sharp teeth nibbled at you ear, warmth breathe washing over it as he whispered, “If you’re good I’ll let you cum again.” If you weren’t so embarrassed from how quickly you had cum before you might not have been so successful in holding back your second orgasm from those words alone. He knew exactly which parts of your body to touch, to kiss or to simply breathe on that would have you shaking from overstimulation.
His hips suddenly snapped back up, quickly regaining the brutal pace before. You threw you head back against his shoulder, if you looked into the mirror again you were worried you’d cum again; the sight of him, thick and hard disappearing into you over and over again as his eyes would find yours, his fingers and mouth marking you as his.
You couldn’t bear to watch yourself anymore, not tonight at least, but you believed you would have an infinite number of opportunities to do so in the future.
“Oh, god-”
One of his fingers had slipped down to your most sensitive part as you got lost in your thoughts, his mouth once again asking you to look in the mirror.
“Cum.” The built-up coil in your abdomen suddenly let go and you couldn’t stop yourself from falling forward, leaving your entire body weight in his arm that wasn’t still on your clit working you through your orgasm.
“Good girl.”
//
He had taken you a further three times, finishing only twice himself compared to your five. Your entire body ached; head clearer than it had been in weeks but so content that you couldn’t stop yourself whispering the three words you had longed to hear from him again.
“I lov-”
“Don’t. Don’t say it.” There would be time to say it again is what you told yourself as you laid beside him. Usually he’d throw an arm around you and bask in the afterglow with you, softly tracing shapes across your back. Instead, you found yourself waiting for the tell-tale signs of his changing breathes before slipping under his arm and resting your cheek on his chest; telling yourself he’d still be there when you woke up.
//
You woke up to cold sheets and a heavy heart.
PART 3
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gotham-ruaidh · 3 years
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Little Bit Better Than I Used To Be
Catch up: Chapter 1 (Starry Eyes) || Chapter 2 (Save Our Souls) || Chapter 3 (Dancing On Glass) || Chapter 4 (Merry-Go-Round) || Backstage (1) || Backstage (2) || Chapter 5 (Danger) || Backstage (3) || Chapter 6A (Love Walked In) ||| Also posted at AO3
Chapter 6B: Without You
Without you in my life // I'd slowly wilt and die But with you by my side // You're the reason I'm alive...
Soundtrack: “Without You,” Mötley Crüe, 1989 [click here to listen]
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Six A.M. – Claire quietly shut her door and softly padded down the hallway toward the dining room.
The Ridge’s sleeping quarters reminded her of her college dorm – a long hallway of single rooms, with a shared bathroom at the end of the hall. Women were up here on the second floor – men were in a separate wing on the other side of the dining room, which with the therapy rooms and administrative offices sat at the middle of the large building.
As she entered the dining room, she smiled a hello at Glenna, a kind middle-aged woman who organized breakfast, among dozens of other jobs. Glenna had had a terrible addiction to pills – “just like you, dear, and I overcame it, so you can too” – and had found a home at The Ridge keeping the whole operation running.
“You’re up early,” Glenna remarked as Claire poured herself a cup of coffee.
Claire stirred in cream and sugar. “I haven’t been able to sleep.”
Glenna set down a tray of piping hot cinnamon buns. “It will be a while before you do. Remember, your body is still in shock. It will take longer than you want, to find a new rhythm. Be patient.”
“I will. Thanks, Glenna.”
Glenna gestured with her head toward the porch. “He’s out there.”
Claire frowned. “Who?”
Glenna smiled. “Who do you think? It’s none of my business – but you’re well-suited.”
Claire piled two cinnamon buns on a plate, her heart beating a bit faster. “There’s nothing going on between us. Besides, isn’t it against the rules?”
Glenna set one hand on her hip. “Not yet there isn’t. And since when did the rules ever stop either of you?”
Claire smiled and shook her head, already crossing the empty dining room.
As soon as she popped her head outside, she saw him – alone in the corner of the porch.
As she approached, she saw he had an acoustic guitar on his lap, strumming quietly, scribbling in a notebook.
“Good morning.”
He looked up at her, suddenly beaming. “Early to bed, early to rise, hmm?”
She held out the plate, and he took a bun. “I figured, might as well get up.” She sat down next to him, set down the plate, and took a long sip of coffee. “Do you always get up this early?”
Chewing, he turned back his guitar, plucking quietly at the strings. “Yeah. Being here is the first regular sleep schedule I’ve had in years. This may sound terrible – but I realize now that I’d forgotten how to fall asleep.”
She wrapped her hands around the coffee mug. “What do you mean?”
He tapped the side of the guitar. “I was drinking two bottles of Jack a day, Claire. I’d have it with breakfast, throughout the morning, before a gig, after a gig. I’d just pass out at some early hour, with some girl who I’d picked up at the gig or at a strip club after the gig, and then wake up sometime the next day. And when I wasn’t touring – I’d still drink a lot. Hang out with my friends, or with the band – go out, hit the clubs, maybe do a few bumps of coke. But it would always end the same way, passed out on a floor or a couch or, on better nights, my bed.”
She watched a blue jay flit from tree to tree, down below in the forest.
“I had so many chances over the years to wake up. It’s so clear to me now. There was one day when we were in the studio, laying down a new track – and I needed to take a break, so I’d gone to a smaller practice studio next door. With a speedball in my pocket. So I helped myself to it, and I don’t remember what happened next, but my producer tells me that a few minutes later I’d buzzed him on the intercom, and asked him for a gun so that I could shoot the men in top hats who were coming out of the speakers.”
Claire swirled her half-empty coffee cup. “I’d work three days on, three days off. It’s a punishing schedule – but I knew that going in. After a long day with several surgeries, I’d crash. Sometimes I’d have to be on call, so I’d sleep in this little room we had upstairs in the staff area. It had two sets of bunk beds and a shower – all a body needs. But I’d be so wired from the adrenaline – from needing to focus so much on the patients – that I couldn’t sleep, you know?”
He nodded. “I know. I know exactly what you mean.”
“The pills helped me sleep. That’s what I told myself at first. And I didn’t feel terrible when I woke up – especially if someone was banging on the door, giving me a five minute warning to get back downstairs. I could get all of the sleep with all of the alertness on the other end. But then…well.” She sighed. “Then it got to the point where I told myself I couldn’t sleep at all if I didn’t have the pills – even on my days off. Because I had to sleep, to make up for the sleep I’d lost when I was on call. And then I was taking them during the day, to calm down.”
He turned a new page in his notebook, pulled out a pen from behind his ear, and scribbled something.
“I guess you’re working on something new?”
He nodded. “Sometimes the music comes first. Sometimes it’s the lyrics that come first. But if I don’t write it down, I won’t remember it the next day.” He frowned. “Come to think of it – it must be because my memory was so shot from the booze, that I wasn’t even capable of remembering.”
He cleared his throat, and set down the guitar, and picked up a cup of coffee. “What do you think? You’re a doctor, after all.”
She smirked. “I’m a surgeon, not a neurologist. But it sounds plausible. Can you remember things better now, that you’re sober?”
He nodded. “It’s crazy. I just feel so much…clearer. In control. It’s good to be in control.” He took another bite of cinnamon bun. “Are you feeling that?”
She sighed. “I’m feeling. I didn’t want to feel anything for the longest time. But now I’m feeling…just feeling.”
Footsteps on the deck behind them – Rupert, shuffling in his bathrobe, blearily waving hello, clutching a gigantic cup of coffee.
A beat.
How to find common ground outside of their addictions?
“Can you tell me more about that song you’re writing?”
He set down his coffee and picked up the notebook, flipping back to the previous page. Set it on the table between them. Picked up his guitar. Looked down at his notes. Started to sing – his voice quiet, clear, strong.
Without you, there's no change My nights and days are grey If I reached out and touched the rain It just wouldn't feel the same
Without you, I'd be lost I'd slip down from the top I'd slide down so low Girl you never, never know...
Without you, without you A sailor lost at sea Without you, woman, the world comes down on me
“I don’t know where to go from there,” he said, continuing to play slow notes on his guitar. “Need more verses, of course. Maybe a space for a guitar solo. I don’t know.” He looked up at her. “What do you think?”
Rupert clapped and hooted from across the porch. Giving Claire enough time to find her voice.
“I think you’ve got a keeper there,” she said softly.
He held her gaze. “I’m glad you think so.”
“Play Freebird!” Rupert shouted.
They shared a smile.
Claire’s world tilted just a little.
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everything i love about hunchback of notre dame
*the g-slur will be replaced with roma, romani, or something else and will have brackets ([ ]) surrounding it to indicate a word change*
Olim -  i love the build up at the end into bells of notre dame 
bells of notre dame -  ”and some say the soul of the city’s the toll of the bells, the bells of notre dame” the fact that it’s esmeralda singing it. we’re already off to a great start.  jehan’s voice is so nice it’s beautiful the foreboding saints after jehan dies and right into the “ahhhhs’ “and the saints regarded frollo from their stone facade and he felt their gaze as if it were the eyes of God” - the difference between the stone saints for frollo and quasi is so interesting. One sees them as terrifying, boring into his soul because of his darkness within, while the other sees them as his friends and aid on his journey.  the way frollo says quasimodo “now here is a riddle to guess if you can, sing the bells of notre dame” “what makes a monster and what makes a man?” - song by Quasi. It just makes me tingle, I love it.  the way this song sets up so many motifs is just so good
Out There -  the beginning is manipulation 101 (it is I alone, your only friend, how can i protect you, etc)  michael arden is an icon i swear. he is phenomenal. his e m o t i o n “but part of theeeeeem and Ooooooout there” “out there among the millers and the weavers and their wives”  “heedless of the gift it is to be them. if I were in their skin I’d treasure every instant” “i swear i’ll be content with my share. won’t resent won’t despair old and bent I won’t care. I’ll have spent oooone daaay out theeeeeeeeeere” Amazing, showstopping, what a way to open a show and introduce a character, I cry almost every single time
Topsy Turvy pt. 1 -  “somehow i can wander through this helter skelter without fear now. no one sees i’m here now out here in the woooorld!” ugh i love him  “on the sixth of januervy” too catchy
Rest and Recreation -  I used to hate this song but now i’ve matured and learned that it is amazing I just love the tune, idk, it’s so fun and catchy until you get to the bridge and that’s what i love “rest and recreaaaaaa- four years at the front...” that’s on ptsd “the air filled with a stench of bodies in a trench. whoever pays the most i call my liege.” just the bitterness when he says that line. Amazing.  “and whatever i do i’ll make sure this is true i will never go back again.” i literally adore this part so much. it gives him so much motivation. and then we go right back into him being flirty because he’s covering up his ptsd with fun “But for a few night fun is my mission” oh me oh my that’s very attractive he sounds so awkward talking to frollo im going to cry  “there is no time for rest and recreation,” poor guy
Rhythm of the Tambourine -  “flash of an ankle flip of a skirt...come see me dance, hey what can it hurt?” I just love how she sings this part its so well done the dance break music is amazing. it’s just so nice and a great vibe.  “this girl who is she” the layers!!!! all three of them doing it in rounds!!! I love it!!! “she dances like the devil//she dances like an angel//an angel” AHHHHH beautiful, great way to show the differences in characters “but with such fire// such fire” I am in love with this line oh my gosh. like frollo is thinking about hellfire and pheobus is just like heart eyes i am also in love with esmeralda thank you
Topsy Turvy pt. 2 -  “aren’t you going to join in on the competition?” she’s so cute and pretty and i love her “we asked for the ugliest face in paris and we found him, aye?” love  “eeev...ry..bod...y”  “Hail to the king....oh what a king...girls give a kiss...we’ve never had a king like this!” just so much fun to sing 
Into Notre Dame -  “how could you do this to me?” more manipulation  “like a begger recieving an alm.” i love a good simile “the light of notre dame” I love the way she sings this, it’s just so good 
God Help the Outcasts -  “were you once an outcast too?” i love this because the answer is yes. Jesus was treated as other because of His teachings. He was most definitely an outcast, literally cast out of so many different towns. And He does listen to her prayer and it just makes me so emotional.  i literally...there is nothing wrong with this song. everything about it is beautiful.  “God help the outcasts or nobody will” chills every single time “I ask for love I can possess. I ask for God and hos angels to bless me” right into “I ask for nothing, I can get by” I LOVE IT SO MUCH it’s so beautiful.  the chorus of this show deserves a raise “but I know so many less lucky than I” really helps to show Esmeralda’s character a lot I think. 
Top of the World -  such a beautiful song like I could write the entirety of this song here because I love it so much I love the saints part so much the part when the saints are singing and esmeralda are singing is just beautiful especially the part “here at the top of the world(E)//look at you sitting at the top of the world(S)” “the two of us sitting/the two of us sitting/the two of you sitting” right into “On top of the world!” one of my favorite parts of the entire show oh my goodness. The way Quasi, Esmeralda, and the Saints all blend together so well is just askjhfklafkj
Tavern Song -  I can’t not dance to this song oh my it’s so so so fun.  just like the melody especially during “in the dark of the night, in the dead of the winter...come keep me warm until morning” I LOVE  It gives me very much Jack and Rose vibes from that part in Titanic “with the taste of the wine, hold me close while we’re dancing, but I hear you sighing, winter is dying, you’ll keep me warm until morning” HER VOICE IS SO GOOD the cross between the tavern folk singing and frollo singing in the Hellfire tune is just so good. just so good. i’m going to cry this show is beautiful.  the fading “come keep me warm until morning”s is UGH so good
Heaven’s Light -  When I tell you how much I adore this song.... his voice is just so soothing. the little flute thing in the background is just so sweet the way he sounds so happy the first time he says “Heaven’s light” i love him so much “but” AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH i cannot  “I swear it must be heaven’s liiiiiiiiiiiiiiight” one of my favorite notes in the entire show i swear it’s so beautiful also the bells of notre dame going right into Hellfire....ICONIC
Hellfire -  One of my favorite villain songs ever. Especially in this version, you can really hear his inner turmoil over Esmeralda. and i just love it.  from the get go, frollo is trying to put him above everyone (”you know i am a righteous man”, “so much purer than...”) and yet he is still struggling with lust like everyone else...he’s still a sinner “i feel her, i see her, the sun caught in her raven hair, is blazing in me out of all control” SO GOOD  “Like fire, hellfire” go look back at what he says in rhythm of the tambourine because it’s the same thing and i just “is turning me to sin” blaming esmeralda for his own sinful thoughts. it is not her that is turning him to sin. he is sinning of his own accord. but also the desperate way he says sin is always so interesting  “it’s not my fault, i’m not to blame, it is the [roma] girl, the witch who set this flame! It’s not my fault, if in God’s plan, he made the devil so much stronger than a man!” I really really love this series of lines so much. I can’t really explain it, but especially that last part. it just breathes a supposed “holy man” who can’t accept that his sins are his own and caused by himself so he’ll blame every single other thing other than himself. i’ve known too many people like this. “protect me maria, don’t let this siren cast her spell, don’t let the fire sear my flesh and bone” just so good. I love the voices in the background.  “destroy esmeralda and let her face the fire of hell, or else let her be mine and mine alone” he would rather condemn an innocent woman than confront his own sin. again, so many people are like this today. it’s just so thrilling to see that mindset condemned in media. also, patrick page is amazing  “hellfire, dark fire” the tone switch from him being scared of the hellfire the first time he said it to now he’s using it as power (how many of us have had hell weaponized against us? raise of hands?) is just so frightening and amazing all at the same time “God have mercy on her, God have mercy on me” I cannot tell you how much I love this line. it is phenomenal, especially the way Page sings it. I think that it is one of the central lines to his character (along with the “wicked shall not go unpunished” which i’ll probably talk about later) just the emotion he has in his voice when he says this line....chef’s kiss. especially with the next line (”but she will be mine or she will burn”), it seems like he knows what he’s doing is wrong (hence why he needs mercy), but he’s going to do it anyway
Esmeralda -  easily one of my favorite songs in this entire show. what an amazing end of act song oh my  the trumpets!! at the beginning!!! I love it!! “being under suspicion of sorcery, witchcraft, and the arts of hell” that is not actually why he’s arresting her which doubly means he knows that what he’s doing is wrong the tune of this song is SO GOOD I LOVE IT “these are the flames of Esmeralda...” this dude is obsessed with fire feels very much like the mob song from beauty and the beast “with the might of Notre Dame” using God in such a vulgar manner is blasphemous and frollo knows it. he’s using God’s might and strength to hunt down an innocent woman because he can’t control his own desires. I’m losing my mind “but the madam, that whore, denied it and swore by the saints, the saints of notre dame” i have no idea why but I adore this line and i love the way that it was song. I used to think that the madam was actually just esmeralda in disguise which made the next part of the song seem all the funnier the little lute strumming after frollo says “very well, we’ll set fire to it” because pheobus is having a change or heart “and he held the torch that crackled like the [woman’s] voice....and he knew this was the moment he must make a choice” this is why i like the play phoebus and not really the movie phoebus very much. i just love it  the chorus singing God help the outcasts in the background...amazing...chills “you’d throw away a promising career” Frollo’s desperate attempt to get him to comply  “God help the outcasts, or nobody will!” I LOVE THIS PART WITH MY WHOLE SOUL IT IS SO GOOD sometimes i’ll listen to this song on repeat just to hear him say this “you’re relieved of your patrol” “consider it my highest honor.” Iconic. just...so good. gives me very much “thank you for your consideration” vibes  the way frollo says kyrie eleison here is just so good frollo’s little speech is very cool with the chorus in the background I love Quasi’s little frantic verse there. you can hear his desperation in “fire, fire, smoke and flame” and then “is that all that I can do?” he wants to help his friend but he can’t and I know how horrible that feels phoebus part!!!!! I love it!!!! his voice is so nice!!! “with my career and body left for dead” nice, good, amazing.  “out there...” AHHHHHHH YES MOTIFS “somewhere she is lost//somewhere she is lost//Esmeralda!” love this bit so much  “the flames grow tall and sharp as fluer de lis” what a good metaphor, so good, so nice, I love the chorus they’re all amazing “all paris burns for esmeralda” now we’ve got burning again. are we talking about how paris is literally on fire because frollo is insane or is it the mob mentaility that is “burning” inside of them? good question.  “and still it all comes down to her and me” says three people. I love the melodies here. chills. so many of them. I love.  “the devil dwells in esmeralda//oh esmeralda//oh esmerlada//oh esmeralda” AHHHH again AHHHHHHH i love this bit (yes I know I say that a lot but its the truth) “wake up the city and sound the alarm!” good yes they’re all singing different bits and it’s growing and your heart is pounding until.... “these are the flames of esmeralda”  and then it all falls apart again oh my gosh it’s beautiful  until “the bells of notre dam!” and the “ah, ah, ah”s that I adore so much I love this song so much 
Entr’acte I can’t imagine how fun this would be to sing. it’s just a vibe Flight Into Egypt - I used to skip this song but I have since learned the error of my ways because i love it “then Quasimodo you can too” love that, just like he says it “and she gave it to you because she knows you’re smart” the fact that these are just part of his imagination so it’s really him telling himself he’s smart and i’m going to cry I love him so much “and this jewel must show where we’re supposed to meet” love his voice so much “it’s a map. it’s a map!” he’s so excited. he deserves the entire world.  “I’ll save esmeralda, her angel will be me,” brb crying  “for her I will be strong” still crying I love the entire end bit how their voices meld and the music swells all up until Quasi sings the last bit. it’s just so amazing
The Court of Miracles -  I’ve always loved this song. it’s so fun, but also sad.  “brother you’re there” YES  “but the dead don’t talk so you won’t be reveal what you found!” dead man tell no tales vibes “Not terribly different from bees in a hive” I love how erik says this line. claupin would be so fun to play oh my.  “where it’s a miracle...if you get out alive”  “any last words....i thought not *laughter*” obsessed with this  “but we must protect at all cost our secret, it’s our lives or yours!” and that’s the sad reality. that’s what makes this song sad to me.  “So you’re going to hang!” a lighter note as an end. very nice. 
In a Place of Miracles -  a few notes in and i’m already crying this song is so beautiful and i adore it. it makes me sad in a million ways but it also makes me so happy. the play did such a great job of making me love pheobus and esmeralda but also feel so, so bad for Quasi “but somehow you have made me someone new” yup i’m definitely crying “now i’m asking if you’ll let me come with you” you can’t see me but the tears are real “though our lives are tattered and torn, all i’m feeling now is reborn. i must be...” AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH Pheobus and esmeralda’s voices just meld together so well im gonna cry it’s so nice and as soon as the first chorus is over, the tears of happiness turn into tears of anguish because Quasi pulls up with his heaven’s light reprise and it tears my heart to shreds my heart breaks for him esmeralda and quasi singing at the same time gives me very much eponine and marius vibes from a heart full of love (we love victor hugo so much /sar) like the parallels in what the both of them are saying is just phenomenal “no more need for a heart of stone//better to have a heart of stone!” AHHHH STOP I LOVE IT AND IT HATE IT AT THE SAME TIME “that holds no hope in heaven’s light” stop i’m so sad and then the chorus come in and it’s just so beautiful “will we reach a friendlier shore, will we find a haven once more, where we’ll be in a place of miracles...” it’s so gorgeous “where’s my place of miracles//in a place of miracles” that sound? yeah that’s me sobbing in the corner and it builds again and i love it so much it’s just so beautiful 
Justice in Paris -  this is the least played song on spotify (by like hundreds of thousands) and I think that’s so funny but i think the chorus does such a great job here, as usual, because they just have that menacing sound to them
Someday -  another of my favorite songs. this one is hauntingly beautiful and I have so many opinions. get ready.  esmeralda is just so sad and you can hear it in every single word she says. god my heart is already breaking.  “that i’d live to see a day of justice dawn” i haven’t actually seen the stage version so i’m not sure if they have the part where she cries out “justice!” when quasi is getting attacked, but this part just hurts me to the soul because of that specifically. she cried out for justice and now she gets none. “and though I will die long before that morning comes, i’ll die while believing still it will come when I am gone” this line just hits so, so hard. i can’t even talk about it. just imagining her singing this and pheobus listening to her with tears in his eyes...nope i cannot...i will cease to exist and then he joins in and i can just imagine her feeling no longer alone because she’s hoping that it comes “someday” and he’s echoing it, assuring her that it will. I can just picture her trying to stay strong as she says “Godspeed this bright millennium on its way” but she can’t and so her words fall out as she’s saying “let it come” and she can’t finish but pheobus finishes it for her. “someday” and I can just see her breaking down. she’s going to die and she never gets to see it, but he assures her that it’s coming. and he starts it up again. he starts singing again, and I think that it gives her the strength she then needs to finish.  “someday, these dreams will all be real. Til then we’ll wish upon the moon!” of all the lines in the entire play, this is my absolute favorite. the way the sing it, the power they hold, their voices blending together so smoothly and perfectly. i cannot handle how amazing it is.  “one day...some day...soon” and just like that, i am sobbing. beautiful beautiful beautiful beautiful. 
While the City Slumbered - i love this little song. it’s so pretty and fast and it just gives us exactly what we need to know. love. 
Made of Stone -  Now to the last of my favorite songs. (Finale doesn’t count because although I love it, it hate it). You wanna know which song has the top score of making me cry the most? That’s right. This one right here. Let’s get into it. the talking at the beginning is a yes from me. “I only make things worse!” felt that also, the sound of him sobbing ruins me. “how do you know what I believe, what do you know of me? what do you know of all the things I feel? you’re only made of stone” finally him acknowledging that they’re not actually real and all apart of his imagination. “who is it that you see, instead of seeing what I am for real?” imposter syndrome? I understand that. “this twisted flesh and bone” the EMOTION  “you’re a liar” bro i cannot physically handle this. i can’t. I will cry. I am cry “would that I were made of stone like you,” back to that place of miracles song. i just he’s just so desperate. the only thing he could ever trust has fallen. He has nothing left. he can’t even trust himself (because that’s really all the stone saints by) “shut my brain down, if I were senseless, I’d prefer it” i totally understand the feeling of this. so often when thing go wrong in my life, i would like to shut down completely and stop existing and I think that’s what makes this song hit so damn hard “another gargoyle on this turret, spitting rain down to the stones below!” there is so much passion in his voice I love it so much. michael arden deserves the entire world for this performance “i’ve waste my faith believing in saints of plaster,” OUCH “the only one worth believing in was my master,” OUCH AGAIN “he’s the one who never lied. he told me it was cruel outside. he told me that i had to hide. his words were cold as stone, but they were true.” i can’t describe how emotional these lines make me. because he’s right but also it is such a painful, hard truth. ugh, i  “not like you”  “take all the dreams you’ve stone, take all your lies and leave me alone”  “alright Quasimodo, we’ll leave you alone,” that one hurt because as someone who pushes people away when they’re self destructing, the most painful part is seeing them actually leave you. even though you asked them too. “you’re right Quasimodo, we’re only made of stone, we just thought that you were made of something stronger.” now that’s a mic drop That would cut so, so deep.  “never again to wonder what’s out there” m o t i f s  “let it remain unknown. and my one human eye forever more be dry until the day i die, as if I were made of stone”  such a beautiful, heartbreaking, real song that I think so many people can relate to. I know I can. I have cried to this song so many times. I love it.  also, he holds that note for so long i’m impressed.
Finale - this song is long so get ready for it.  the crimes that Esmeralda is guilty for are not the ones that she was originally hunted for. he switched up his story. “the sentence is death!” immediate kyrie eleison (which i think is for frollo and not esmeralda) she spits in his face like a freaking queen “esmeralda!” Quasi’s cry is just so heart shattering and emotional I am so sad “he could remain stone no longer” I love that “sanctuary! sanctuary!” with the victorious sounds in the background are just so amazing “hear me, people of Paris, how much oppression will you allow?” with the chorus singing Someday in latin in the background?? I am not crying again “someday, your patience will finally break. why not make someday come right now?”  that part is just chef’s kiss. I love it so much. also, that’s the last we hear of pheobus. I’ve always wondered if he died so someone whose been in/seen the play, could you tell me? quasi’s prayer to the saints is just so good. i just love it so much. so beautiful. and it being similar in tune to Heart of Stone and having the part “raining fire on the stone below!” is just so good and then the moment between quasi and esmeralda is just... “you are home.” “home.”  and then we go to the top of the world reprise. haha. haha. ha.  “in my eyes you are beautiful too,” comparing him to the beautiful morning ���i don’t think...forever...” “you’re such a good friend quasimodo” “yes your friend” and then she freaking dies and i’m so sad and then the music changes so quickly and it makes my heart drop every time “because of you” cut deep “at last we’re free of esmeralda. now that she’s gone, a poison dies with her.” to the tune of esmeralda. bitch i would have thrown frollo off that roof too “here in our sanctuary...sanctuary” “sanctuary? no sanctuary without her”  “even...loved her.” “love? what do you know of love?” I adore this part because Quasimodo finally realizes that Frollo’s treatment of him wasn’t love. It never was.  “no. you are the weak one. you the wicked one. And the wicked shall not go unpunished!” I cannot explain the fire that this lights in my bones. it’s amazing. just so good. and then all the voices, like the saints, come in “the wicked shall not go unpunished. the heart of the wicked is of little worth. the wicked shall not go unpunished” and they’re no longer on frollo’s side (they never were) the rising voices as quasi picks up frollo and is going to kill him *chef’s kiss* “You don’t want to hurt me” “yes you do” so, so, so, so, so good. i can’t even explain. it’s just good.  in to the abyss below! damnation! “the world is cruel, the world is ugly” yes  “but there are times and there are people when the world is not” i’m not 100% positive, but i’m pretty sure that’s jehan again and that’s just so beautiful. “and at it’s cruelest it’s still the only world we’ve got” the bitter truth “out there” yup yup yup crying you can’t stop me The bit with the chorus singnig someday in latin and english...i literally cant handle it. it is so freaking beautiful. and the violin? the woman singing is an icon. the voices blend together so beautifully. I am overcome with emotion. i- Quasi singing the last “someday” and then the blending into the beginning song and ugh “but here is a riddle to guess if you can, what makes a monster and what makes a man?” with the entire ensemble? yeah, that one feels good.  and being left off with the “ah”s
yeah, brb, i’m going to go listen to it again.
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