#ignore singalongs

[tmmyhug]

oh sorry guys got sucked into the time vortex

#(opened tik tok) #i did not mean to just ignore that singalong post for this long #oops. ah well #vees train of thought

[plaguethewaters]

yearnposting again

#ignore the nova #uhhhuuuurghhhh #i want my own!!!! fucking house!!!!!! #i eant to eat my own fucking food and broccoli and rice for dinner and have toast with it cause toast is fucking good!!! #i want to watch youtube videos and dumb shows in my living room wjtouth being judged and singalong to musicals and shit!!!! #i want to talk with my friends outloud loke i fucking want to and say swears and talk like i normally would no cernsoring!!! #i wanna be able to go out Nd buy shit if i need it and decorate ny room how i want and knit and excercise and sleep at weird times #i want to dance somtimes and put on dumb music and hang ny drawings on every wall #i want an open closet and to spend hours on every outfit and a mirror to see then and to do makeup how j want to do it #i want to walk around and do nothing but imagine silly little scenarios in my head and also study and eat and sdo shit in my own fucking ti #just uuuegh i want to live aloooone #or at least without my parents y'know #freedom tastes so good #ALSO #i wanna hang up a pride flag and posters of things i like

[forthegothicheroine]

It's a little bit funny that back in the era of Doctor Horrible's Singalong Blog, there were so many fix fics where it turned out Penny had been a secret supervillain all along, then MST3K gave us Felicia Day as a supervillain with another villain in unrequited love for her- and she still ignored him in favor of forcing a guy she didn't even like to marry her.

[gnomeniche]

Duck definitely knows and is more aware than he let’s on , him saying “I don’t want to do this anymore” (on Food) implies he has known since a while. I think besides him being self-aware on some level, the fact that he can’t fit in whatever mold the show presents is his downfall, even when he tries going along he really doesn’t fall into the singalong. But that has also saved him (and the others)multiple times on the TV show, so I wonder if his character arc would revolve around him figuring that out (if they can somehow solve the resets / replacements issue)

this became impromptu duck analysis so uhhhh tl;dr I THINK YOU'RE RIGHT i think his character arc would involve heading in that direction. but readmore for full

I 100% AGREE WITH YOU. duck is absolutely aware to some extent. and the times he can't fit into the mold of the show are not for lack of trying. when he plays his role right, he does it so seamlessly that we don't even notice him twisting and turning himself. but when he can't, he REALLY can't, and it's always in response to something unexpected happening.

in "jobs," he does so well at first, even being the cue for the teacher, until the rug is unexpectedly pulled from under him, at which point he freaks out and tries to force things back on the track he thinks they were supposed to be on. in "food," one of his friends has COMPLETELY disappeared, which he cannot just ignore. "family" is somewhere between not fitting and playing along, where he objects but tries to go along with the twins' adventure and what they tell him to do, contorting his dislike of the situation into taking on the naysayer role that red has left unfilled. but all in all, when he does not want to do something he will NOT do it.

so why would he Want to play along? he clearly does NOT like the lessons. obligatory disclaimer about personal readings: if there are residual memories from the webseries in the back of these guys' minds, he's learned from "food" that any attempt at defiance will be met with something more painful. when he woke up briefly he found nothing but a black void (somewhat outside of the show-world, given how the episode was playing on the screens in that room) and evisceration. not that that WAS necessarily more "real"; the dull world that red found wasn't more "real," either, even if it seemed to be. but you would be under that impression if you were birdman at that moment.

so he's aware but terrified of what he might find if he decides to act on it. defiance means pain and death and darkness, so play along to stay safe. and it's hard to notice his dissatisfaction, as opposed to red's, because his coping mechanisms are joking/bravado instead of bitterness/apathy AND he's a better actor. his clipboarding at the end of "transport" shows that; he clings to a shred of normalcy and humor to deal with the reality that they are now stranded in a terrible place.

and i absolutely agree with you on the last part too. duck's growth HAS to involve dealing with his hidden terror and learned helplessness. but i think he can only do that for the sake of his friends. like, the one thing that terrifies him more than even the pain and nothingness is being left alone. that's why he knocks over the camera in "food," why he hates the "jobs" and "family" situations, why he can't stand being alone in his grave. but even though the road trip is SO transparently an attempt to break out, he seems fine because he's with his friends. if his arc is him learning that he HAS power and agency after all, he will be spurred toward it in some way by something involving his friends.

will it be him observing the little actions they make that builds up his courage? will it be the other two directly poking at reality again? will it be something horrible happening to them? who knows. birdmangelion when

#dhmis #dhmis duck #dhmis analysis #am.ask

[seasurfacefullofclouds1]

There was nothing remotely Arctic Monkeyesque on Walls though unless you count Louis' Yorkshire accent which was similar to Alex's on the initial records. The greatest being inspired by Oasis oh is it because it sounds like something you would listen to if wanted to get pumped for a football match, you know football - oasis?

Its like you got the cliff notes for a book review from somewhere and muddled the whole thing up when trying to reword it.

Also, Copy's studio version is not even released what is she talking about it being a "hit" in terms of commercial success?

Even if we ignore the rest of her review which was basically I wanted to go to a Harry show but ended up on a Louis show because I am not successful enough to write a Harry puff piece, her review was I don't really know much about music and concerts to be able critique anything based on what I was hearing and seeing so I am going to rely on what I have heard about Louis' music from other sources.

Here’s that review, and a translation:

Seven years since One Direction split, only one ex-member can still claim superstar status. Yet it wasn’t Harry Styles who fans camped out for overnight in sub-zero temperatures this week. It was Louis Tomlinson, until recently the least successful of the former famous five.

“I really wish I was reviewing a Harry Styles concert, but I’m neither qualified nor connected enough. Fucking hate Louis.”

Slow to settle on a solo sound, the Yorkshire-born 30-year-old aped his idols Oasis and Arctic Monkeys on his widely derided debut album Walls in 2020. He did much the same on last month’s follow-up, Faith in the Future, yet something had changed. That one went to No 1.

“I’m pretty sure I would hate Walls, though I’ve never heard it. Never heard Faith In The Future either, but every northern band wants to be Oasis, that’s what my dad says. Never heard Oasis either.”

Live, Tomlinson could still be finding his feet. His Walls world tour was cancelled due to Covid and even this show arrived a month late after the singer broke his arm. Initially, he did little other than hang Liam Gallagher-like on the mike stand, a slight figure in what could have passed for workout gear, and sprinkle swear words among his basic banter.

“God, I wish he broke his other arm. Why isn’t he wearing pink bellbottom pants? Heteronormative little bastard. Fucking this fucking that. Fuck you.”

His almost exclusively female fans, on the other hand, were up for a party and perhaps the loudest singalongs Shepherds Bush has heard all year. The surprise was how strong the songs sounded.

“I hate that his songs were good.”

Backed by a five-piece rock band, Tomlinson more than held his own despite his not notably distinctive vocals. His opener The Greatest was clearly indebted to Oasis, but its bolshiness and catchy chorus meant it didn’t matter. Even the poppier Kill My Mind had swagger, while Written All Over Your Face had a sleazy funk undercurrent that brought to mind Black Grape.

“Louis is such a basic white man. He’s like any other basic white man, except damn, this song is dirty and catchy? Even though I know Harry is supposed to be dirtier and sexier because… duh, orgies. Nudes. Titties. Why are my feet dancing?”

By mid-show Tomlinson had taken to prowling the stage, handing huge chunks of songs over to chanting fans and, occasionally, looking as if he might crowd surf. He didn’t, but the more confident he grew, the more electric the atmosphere.

“He can’t sing. He can’t sing. If I repeat this fifty times, I know it’ll be true. I don’t care that I’m getting a little heated, it’s not because of Louis because he can’t sing and he’s not sexy. I know this. I know this!”

Copy of a Copy of a Copy, officially an unreleased song, was a rocky monster that could give Tomlinson his first solo hit single. Walls, performed as an acoustic ditty, was greeted like Wonderwall. The only One Direction song on the set list, Night Changes, sounded tame by comparison.

“Ugh he sounds better than 1D. Fuck.”

Tomlinson may lack the inventiveness and sex appeal of Styles, but for simple singalongs, he’s now 1D’s go-to guy.

“I feel bad that I had a good time. The world feels wrong. Wanna go home and read my Y/N Harry fics.”

[groovesnjams]

37 / 50

"East Side of Sorrow" by Zach Bryan

MG:

There’s something extraordinarily fishy about Zach Bryan. Something I do not care for but nevertheless find myself magnetically drawn to, like the burnished flame of a small town burning to the ground in the distance. If you didn’t want to turn your pain into another fucking sing along, then why did you marry your story to a bunch of thumping major chords, you know? And it’s also the way I knew about what a hero outsider he is, taking on the corrupt country music biz and valiantly releasing such a glut of music it’d make your stomach explode, before I ever heard any of his songs. Zach Bryan is good with words, better with branding, and, I kind of feel, dishonest to his very core. “East Side of Sorrow” is a naked act of manipulation, an emotional bomb unleashed on an audience that has suffered loss and is begging to feel something other than grief. So, here you go! Feel stirred, feel roused, feel like it all meant something, like the suffering served some higher purpose. Cry in room full of people crying and call it catharsis. I do not trust this man or the horseshit he peddles, but goddamn. It feels really good to put this song on as the sun dips down to the horizon line and the sky is all the oranges and pinks of a Huda beauty blush quad and let Bryan’s raspy twang merge with the engine roar as I motor around empty fields and over train tracks and past condemned buildings, all on my way to nowhere. He’s fishy, but I’m always craving a tuna salad sandwich.

DV:

Unlike prog it seems to me that it's much too early for a stomp-and-clap revival, like wasn't it just yesterday that we rid ourselves of those troublesome Lumineers? But here we are and Zach Bryan is making it seem like a good idea after all. "East Side of Sorrow" sounds sad even before you get into the lyrics and backstory, even if you ignore the title. Bryan's voice always carries a weariness and anger to it; the muted trumpet is rousing and defeated at the same time. But it's got the galloping rhythm and singalong roughness of the best ho-hey stomper, and Bryan not only knows it but builds that into the lyric: "Do you ever get tired of singin' songs/ Like all your pain is just another fuckin' sing along?" It's a self-reflexive critique that's aimed just as squarely at his audience, a question without an answer because after all he is still up there on stage and we are still singing with him. Performance is an act of giving, but it also takes; does it feel easier if you acknowledge that as you do it?

#gnjsoty2k23 #zach bryan #east side of sorrow #music #the lumineers lol

[annonniiiiieeeee]

how would the tenshu gang react to the t r a u m a that is the human centipede movies

and also tusk

I have done a great job at ignoring the existence of those movies. And I’m going to continue ignoring them.

So I think the Tenshu gang would be very confused but also enjoy, Puppet History by Watcher on YouTube.

I think they would especially enjoy the episode about Miyamoto Musashi the real life samurai that Miyamoto Usagi is based off of. I think Usagi would love acing all of the questions because “this is something I know!!!!”

I think it’s a chaotic way for them to learn about the history of our world. I also want to see their reactions to the singing puppets. The thought brings me joy.

Mostly because resident theater kids Donnie and Leo would be singing along to the most unhinged puppet singalongs ever.

#asks #a world of samurais and ninjas #rise leo #awosan miyamoto usagi

[sunburnacoustic]

Muse Fosters Community Between the Lines of Your Favorite Song

Rolling Stone Magazine spoke to Muse fans earlier this year in 2022 about how Muse bring together a community of fans

Kwasi Boadi, July 29, 2022

In our second Welcome Sessions feature with Jim Beam, we dig beneath the live music frills to explore how strangers in the crowd become quick friends by talking to the supergroup and their most passionate fans

There’s something so communal about going to a Muse show. The experience has a way of inducing a unique catharsis. On the one hand, it’s hard to ignore the tremendous feeling of it all, from the hypnotizing laser light show to the rousing pyrotechnics and the otherworldly visuals.

But beneath the (literal) flash and frills lies something much more intimate. Fans are embracing, fists are pumping, and in spurts, the audience takes on the role of lead vocalist while they roar the lyrics of their favorite records. In these moments, complete strangers become part of something much larger than themselves because there’s community to be found between the lines of your favorite song.

“Nothing beats being in the crowd with music fans when you don’t know what the setlist is,” says self-proclaimed superfan Helen Rose Tooth. “When they start bringing out the songs, and bring out some rarities, and everybody just comes together, you get picked up by the atmosphere.”

Rolling Stone caught up with Rose Tooth and a host of other Muse diehards at a secret homecoming show in Exeter, Devon. Hosted by Jim Beam as part of their Welcome Sessions event series, the intimate gig brought Muse superfans back to the Cavern, a cozy music venue in the South West of England where the band started out by playing for some of its earliest supporters: friends, family, and classmates.

When asked about her favourite song to see live, it only takes Rose Tooth a moment to land on “Definitely ‘Knights of Cydonia’” as her answer. Tom Kirk, a longtime friend of the band, doubles down on the sentiment. ’Knights of Cydonia’ is the ultimate fan singalong. I don’t think Matt needs to even stretch his vocal cords for that anymore because the whole crowd in the arena or festival [is] just bellowing it out. It’s an electrical force of people being completely tuned into the moment like nothing else exists.”

It’s easy to hear why the record elicits a range of emotions from the Muse faithful. The song kicks off with a spellbinding harmonica solo by bassist Chris Wolstenholme. Though everyone in the house knows what’s coming next, the anticipation builds like a roller coaster inching closer to its first big drop. Then, at the perfect moment, Matt Bellamy sends the audience into an auditory free fall once he interjects with a few crackling strums of his electric guitar.

When you’re singing along to lyrics that speak to you, that feeling you get is irreplaceable, and it runs much deeper when you look to your left and see a fellow fan sharing in that communion. There’s a bond created there, an understanding that the words that made such a pronounced impact on your life have struck a chord with someone on a similar frequency. At that moment, a would-be stranger feels more like a kindred spirit.

This belief that you truly feel connected when belonging to a community is rooted in Jim Beam’s two-century history of bringing people together, and that sentiment is evident in talking to another Muse superfan, Hannah Chandisingh. “You’re all in that together”, she says. “And when they break out these really powerful songs, when you actually realize that you and the person next to you are both in floods of tears, [there’s this sense that] ‘I don’t know you, but I love you.’”

It’s a feeling that can transcend language and borders. Danny Yeates has vivid memories of his first Muse show outside of the UK. “I went to Madrid for a VIP experience in 2016,” he recalls. “The fan base was just so different. This guy literally collared me, and [we] just started singing along. Generally, in the UK, it doesn’t really happen that way. The cultures are very different, but we’re here, and the universal language is Muse.”

Muse frontman and songwriter Matt Bellamy describes this lightning in a bottle as equal parts method and magic. “It’s hard to describe the emotions that you feel on stage. Spiritual, I guess some people could describe it that way,” he says. “It’s something otherworldly. Very connective with thousands of people.”

Early on, Bellamy realised he should pen his lyrics through the lens of inclusivity. “Over the years, [I realised that] you know what? I can actually play with this and start writing songs using ‘we’ pronouns instead of ‘I’ and singing about myself. ‘Uprising’ was the big moment where I was like, ‘I’m going to change this song. Instead of it being about me, I’m going to make it about us,’ and I sort of deliberately wrote the lyrics with that in mind.”

That communal spirit can be just as stimulating for the performer as it is for the audience. Muse drummer Dom Howard speaks warmly of that synergy. “It’s an amazing feeling,” he says. “It’s kind of this really reciprocal feeling of you enjoying what you’re doing and them enjoying what you’re playing. It’s a wonderful thing where you’re very much tuned in to each other and aware of how everyone feels.”

In the mind of a songwriter, that reciprocity is a catalyst for growth because feeling understood can be an invitation to push the envelope even further. Bellamy observes that, “there’s a vulnerability in songwriting because you’re digging into workings of your personality and expressions and experiences that you’ve had,” he says. “There’s a kind of confidence that emerges over time when you realise how many other people there are in the world that can relate to that. And over time, that actually gives you a bit more confidence to maybe dig deeper.”

#Exeter Cavern 😭😭 #Muse interviews #Musers #Muse in magazines #Rolling Stone #Jim Beam sessions #2022 #nice that they did this tbh #the Muse live experience is truly something beautiful #note to self to link the source in tomorrow #I copied this over from my phone which is at 3% #I'm tagging from my laptop and I don't have the links #my phone keyboard while pasting has I think autocorrected a few spellings to fit my phone's locale #like Rolling Stone is an American magazine and so the original spellings were American; think my phone messed with a few of them #and I'm too lazy at this hour to proofread the article and change them back I promise I'm not anti American English spelling I'm just tired #muse #muse band #matt bellamy #chris wolstenholme #dom howard #musers #muse live

[kichimiangra]

The beef between Specter's forces and the werewolf pack started over Jake. They weren't fighting over prey, and the two groups usually ignored each other almost as much as the locals desperately tried to ignore them. Ain't NO human going out at night and seeing a pair of cackling borzoi monsters tangling themselves in the trees without the human saying "Nope." and immediately going back inside and making plans to build thicker shutters for the windows. The problem arose when Jake, the heir to a minor noble family came back from abroad to visit his old friends. They were a bit more smelly and dirty than he remembered, but that was probably just how it was with peasants. They were very happy to see him and greeted him in a way oddly reminiscent of a pack of friendly hunting dogs. Probably nothing to worry about. (He should have worried. Both the werewolves and Specter looked at him and said "Dibs!")

When they both went to convert him, they argued about it

"He stays ALIVE as a werewolf! We have way more fun and singalongs and camping and you get used to the horrible pain and smells eventually."

"God, you're so cute when you're mad. And also stupid! Vampires live an unlife of dark luxury and privilege! An unending unlife! And you get used to the downsides of an all liquid diet even faster!"

"Wait, you're both monsters? You want to turn me into a monster? I have many questions and concerns-"

It culminated in Natalie and Specter biting Jake which you can probably imagine had some very gnarly effects on his body. He ain't pretty no more. He's currently hibernating in werewolf territory while they try to figure out how to fix this. It's not going well.

Specter blames them for the issue and takes no responsibility.

Relations between the two groups have steadily deteriorated

Despite the fact that Jake had been pitched the pros of both factions, his "incident" left him in a state of limbo, but given the immediate aftermath, it was safe to assume he'd have to prepare for the cons of both and the benefits of neither. Currently he lay sleeping in a small cave he could barely belly drag himself through the entrance of, and should he wake hopefully that would deterr him from escaping should he awaken early from his slumber. In the meantime the Twins were left to guard the entrance. Should he wake up one twin would seek the pack while the other keeps him in the cave.

Specter sat uncomfortably on a log around a campfire, the rest of the mangey werewolf pack sitting on the ground around the blazing fire. Aside from Specter's high end attire, should anyone come across them one would think them just campers or hunters settling in for the night after a long hunt with how roughed up and filthy they were.

It was the Vampire who broke the silence of thought everyone found themselves in.

"What the FUCK was all that!?!?!" He was addressing Natalie, as she was probably the most intellectual among the pack. Her response initially was to wrinkle her nose and bare her teeth, pressing her tongue through the gaps in her pearly whites, but slowly shifted to sticking the tip of her tongue out of the side of her mouth in thought, a habit Specter also had of gently biting his own tongue in thought.

"Well, the 'fuck that' was is pretty normal in initial werewolf transformations." She said

"You filthy dogs go on a complete RAMPAGE?" the vampire asked incredulously.

"No, that's what having a PACK is for!" She rubbed her brow between her thumb and forefinger before expositing. Feud or no feud they need to collect data to hypothesis Jake's potential fate. With an exhale she straightened her posture like a delegate to nobility. "Upon being--" infected? Cursed? "--inoculated with Lycanthropy there is this initial state of psuedo-feral behavior. The body is going through a huge change for the first time, hormones and brain chemicals are going crazy, bones are snapping a rehealing and all in all it's scary for the werewolf in question. Most just can't handle the initial change the first time and just 'let the wolf out' so to speak." She turned to her pack around the fire. "That's why we live in packs. To support eachother. And part of that is when a new member joins the pack we comfort the initial 'wolf' and take them far away from human establishments to avoid an incident. We're not exactly a hard kept secret but as a vampire you should understand what it means to keep a reasonably controlled population?"

Specter hummed in acknowledgement. For the most part any creature that inconvenienced humans walked a line between being vaguely tolerated/avoided and having someone called in to chase them out. The Vampire himself was familiar with choosing his meals carefully as to not feed on anyone who would be missed; the occassional violent drunk or wife beater or child molester who when found dead the populace would simply shrug it off as 'a damn shame'. It would make sense that a groups of social animals would be very cautious about their numbers and how much attention they draw.

Natalie simply sat there making eye contact with the vampire, eyebrows raised expectantly, which Specter met in kind.

"What?" He inquired. She aggressively sighed in return.

"What happens when you're bitten by a vampire?!"

"Ohhhhhh. I see. You become a vampire." He deadpanned before cackling to himself as Natalie's hackles raised.

"WHAT IS THE STEP BY STEP PROCESS YOU PARASITE?!" She looked ready to literally take his head off.

"Hmmm... I don't know why I should tell you. Just because you feel like sharing all the secrets of your race doesn't mean I do..." He took out a flask from his pocket and took a swig of what was surely someone's blood he'd saved for later. "Perhaps if you'd like to share the cure for Lycanthropy and release poor Jacob into my care?" He grins past the lip of the flask. "I'll make sure to administer the cure and erase your mistake as I welcome him into eternity."

Natalie was done with his shit, rising from her spot on the ground so swiftly she couldn't be stopped as she pinned the vampire to a tree by his neck. "YOU LISTEN TO ME BLOOD SUCKER! Pretend you have no blame in this all you want, this isn't about you! It's about Jake! We don't know what that cocktail of-- of us is going to do to him in the long or short term! I do know what our end unpolluted would do, and you are going to tell me what vampirism will do, for his sake-" She squeezed his neck tighter, "-and yours!"

He considered turning into a bat to escape the werewolf's strangle hold but with how tight she had him he would mostly likely just end up an extremely easily crushed flying mammal in the palm of her crushing grip. He would not plead to a mangy wolf, but the look in his eyes confirmed his cooperation and Natalie dropped him unceremoniously to hold his neck and re-find his voice.

"What. Happens. When. You're. Bitten. By. a. Vampire?!" she coldly demanded.

The vampire returned to his log, unwilling to sit on the ground like a peasant and returned to his composure. "Upon being--" infected? Cursed? "--bedeviled with vampirism it's not... instant. Not for most at least. Symptoms will usually start small. Anemia as your body stops producing it's own blood. Fever as your remaining red and white blood cells begin alerting your body there's some sort of ailment to be cooked out of you. Fatigue, Photo-sensitivity, Elongating fangs, eventually you just go through cardiac arrest and hope by the time you wake up as a full fledged vampire nobody found you and buried your body six feet under ground and now you have to dig yourself out IN THE DEAD OF FUCKING WINTER WHEN THE GROUND IS FROZEN--!!!!" That last part sounded like personal experience to the werewolf. "And then the only thing on your mind is going to be finding something to eat. You have about 24 hours to find something (Someone) before you go ghoulishly feral and no longer have much choice in your dining menu."

The Vampire pulled out his flask and and took another sip. His explanation was extremely casual when talking about killing people. That made sense though considering... vampire. Natalie thought on the list.

"So not severely different from lycanthropy... There's the initial inoculation and the 'rampage' that comes with it, an incubation period, and then a long hibernation before awakening. For werewolves it take about a month, from one full moon to the next. The only major difference is you vamps run ill during incubation while Lycanthropes get a nice weak of feeling at their peak while being very hungry and stuffing themselves in preparation for their hibernation. How long are you dead for?"

The vampire shrugged. "It all depends on the vampire that bit you really. The only thing I know that can trigger all 'incubating' vampires to awaken all at once regardless of conditions would be a blood moon. Really it's like vampire Christmas!"

Hearing this alerted the attention of Spike, whom the other two thought was sound asleep after having to wrestle the rampaging vampiric lycanthrope that was Jake to the ground and into the small cave they left him, who jerked up from his spot near the fire, seeking out small notebook from his possessions nearby. Scrolling through the pages rapidly he stopped and looked up to the sky before checking the book again. "Natalie..." He looked up to the older werewolf. "The uhh.... the next Full moon... It's a super moon." Super moons, a full moon very close to the earth and was frequently known for speeding up the Lycanthropy process much like how Specter described Vampirism. "And a Blood moon." Both Natalie and Specter paled.

"A super--"

"--Blood moon?"

The two almost spoke in unison.

Not only did they not know what Jake's condition would do to him at this point, the vampire and the wolf pack now had to ponder what the upcoming celestial event would do to their ailing charge...

#ape escape #kc answers stuff

[theart2rock]

Steel Rhino veröffentlichen neue Single Ignoring Gravity

Die Hardrocker STEEL RHINO (einschließlich Herbie Langhans von Firewind) veröffentlichen neue Single „Ignoring Gravity" vom kommenden Album „In Rhino We Trust"! Die Hardrock-Band STEEL RHINO mit dem legendären Sänger Herbie Langhans (FIREWIND) hat eine neue Single mit dem Titel „Ignoring Gravity" veröffentlicht, die vom kommenden Album „In Rhino We Trust" stammt, das am 21. Oktober über GMR Music erscheint. Mikael Rosengren, Gründer von Steel Rhino, äußerte sich zu dem neuen Song: "Das Album brauchte ein episches Ende, einen Song, der die Geschwindigkeit und die Singalong-Parts hat, die den Leuten den Drang geben, das Album immer wieder weiterzuspielen. Es geht darum, loszulassen und einfach loszulegen. Folgen Sie Ihren Träumen, alles ist möglich." „In Rhino We Trust" setzt den identifizierbaren STEEL RHINO-Sound fort, der der Band so gute Dienste leistete und alle Leute ansprach, die klassischen Hard Rock lieben. Der Gründer Mikael Rosengren erklärte: „Wir konnten den Fans nicht nur ein Album überlassen, also haben wir die Saga von Steel Rhino fortgesetzt. Ich denke, dieses Album ist roher und kraftvoller. Wir haben unseren Arena-Rock-Sound auf die nächste Stufe gehoben und die Songs sind zu unserem bisher besten Material gereift." Wieder einmal war Jacob Hansen (Dynazty, Volbeat, Evergrey, Amaranthe) für das Mixing und Mastering verantwortlich. Tracklist: 1. Stand Up and Shout 2. Strike 3. Blades 4. We Rise 5. Final Stand 6. In Rhino We Trust 7. Judgement Day 8. Dr Jekyll Mr Hyde 9. Time To Be King 10. Ignoring Gravity Line-Up: Mikael Rosengren – Schlagzeug Herbie Langhans – Gesang Filip Vilhelmsson – Gitarre, Bass Quelle: The Metallist Lesen Sie den ganzen Artikel

[born-to-lose]

Self-destruction my beloved

#no context #actually yes context #i miss online classes because then i could drink all my worries away and not have people see me completely out of place the next morning #it's not like i can't hold the alcohol i just don't wanna look fucked at school #but you wouldn't smell it through the mask..... should i? #whatever idc cheers time for an abba singalong followed by a mental breakdown woohoo #also maybe cutting lil patterns in my arms with scissors isn't the best idea but- #tw self harm #the cuts aren't that deep. only light ones but ugh what else am i gonna do #i'm so close to starting to smoke but my mom would get big mad bc she just knows when my dad smoked and it wouldn't be any different with me #and i threw up twice last night tho i didn't even eat a lot. actually i only ate one slice of pizza yesterday #fuck everything #the appetite for self-destruction is very strong tonight #pls ignore i just need to write it down somewhere #don't worry about me #i'm fine *drops dead* #i have a feeling i'll get into hospital at some point this year. i just KNOW it #when i die i'll let you know ok? and please put on my funeral mosh pit playlist #mel talks

[odos-bucket]

Watching the three caballeros song on one of those singalong vhs tapes as a kid I was like “disney used to use the word gay a lot, and it used to mean something different oh look a different song is on now” and then I didn’t think about it for years, but as soon as they updated the song and took out the word ‘gay’ the full intensity of my attention snapped back onto this franchise and the knowledge that these birds were gay burned in my heart like a vindictive lesbian sun

#ducktales #donald duck #the three caballeros #shoutout to that funky little owl who interrupted the singalong with random trivia too #jose carioca #unrelated but 'Watercolors of Brazil' is one of the most beautiful pieces of animation that studio ever produced #ignore me #panchito romero miguel junipero francisco quintero gonzález #i had to look that up #but writing this has set me flashing back through a bunch of old animated shorts

[starshapedmorgue]

hii!! may i request general dating hcs of annie in modern au! readers pronouns are she/her! have a nice day!!

hello there! thank you so much for requesting! here are some modern! au annie headcanons! <3

pairings: Annie Leonhart x Fem! Reader

warnings: none!

Talking Is Hard 

In the modern world, away from titans, you meet Annie Leonhart at an animal adoption center and immediately hit it off. 

you tell everyone it was love at first sight but she tells them she knew you were the one when you continually visited the center to volunteer.

While she’s shy and quiet, you are the opposite, loud and talkative.

It worked. You talked and she listened.

She loves your bubbly spirit but at times, she hated having to wait for you to stop talking to an old friend you ran into at the grocery store

Grocery hauls. You both enjoy them due to how domesticated it feels. One pushes the cart while the other reads off the list of items to get. 

let’s talk about favorite places for dates!

In the first few months of the relationship, you both went out on malls dates, coffee dates, exclusive dinners, etc. Those were fun but they didn’t satisfy your needs for something more meaningful.

When things became serious after a year after, you silently agree over time that you’d both rather prefer a night in. A homecooked meal, a movie, and snacks were what she looked forward to every week.

If either party felt spontaneous enough, she or you would grab an old picnic basket and travel to the nearest park or rural area for a date.

you have an annoying habit of rubbing your freezing feet against the warmth of her body. She scolds you but secretly enjoys the contact even if she has to sacrifice her own warmth.

Every year for her birthday, you gift her a box of donuts, flowers, and a heartfelt card. She hated parties, get-togethers, anything big so you opted for something small like this and she appreciates it more than anything.

for your birthday, she likes to keep it intimate like booking tickets to an art show or taking you out of the state on a little road trip. She wants you to enjoy your day.

Annie was never really into celebrating holidays because they brought along bad memories and feelings but over time, she learned to enjoy them because of you. Whether it was Christmas or Halloween, you always had the energy to decorate the house/apartment from the inside and outside. 

By far, Halloween is her favorite holiday to spend with you. You weren’t surrounded by family or friends so she gets to have you all to yourself, occasionally. I say occasionally because you force her to go to parties in matching costumes. 

When you feel overwhelmed for any reason, Annie finds that simple late-night car rides help you get through the high emotions. She holds your hand, rubbing circles on the back while the other is glued on the steering wheel. 

Even though she does this, you prefer driving e because Annie tends to go over the speed limit, by a lot. 

Karaoke is a special thing between you and Annie. In the car, in the shower, or while cleaning, you both love to serenade the other or just straight-up blast the high school musical soundtrack (she will only admit she loves the series on her deathbed) there is a singalong.

Annie has no filter. You find out when you’re showering and she barges in, kiddie in hand, and begins showering with you. Screaming, you cover your figure with the shower curtains.

“Stop screaming, I’ve seen your boobs before.”

You ignore her for the rest of the day but it does become a daily occurrence that you become accustomed to.

You don’t know how but you eventually get matching tattoos with the short blonde.  

the permanent ink is in the shape of a simple frog with a cowboy hat. She has one with a fedora decorating its head.

Annie Leonhart knows she’s in this forever when she watches your peaceful form, arms and legs shooting out in different directions,  sleeping.

#annie leonhart #annie leonhardt x reader #annie leonhardt x you #attack on titan #annie leonhart x y/n #shingeki no kyojin #annie leonhart imagine

[junghelioseok]

clandestine. | 04

↳ forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au ◇ 6.5k [4/6]

notes: we finally have a set chapter count! did this fic really need to be 6 chapters? absolutely not, but here we are! i’m hoping to have this fella finished up in the next month or so, but we’ll see how that goes given my track record. happy new year, everyone!

warnings: a little underedited bc i’m lazy, shower sex!!! mild? exhibitionist tendencies??? reader is dumb and jungkook is slutty, but what else is new 🤷🏻‍♀️

⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 

“I swear to god, I am going to amputate your arm with a rusty hacksaw if you elbow me one more time.”

Undeterred, your brother prods you again, pouting at you from his spot in the driver’s seat. “I just want another chip, Noona. Don’t be so mean.”

“Are you a baby bird?” you ask in disbelief, gaping at the way he opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue. “Seriously, I’m not feeding you. Get your own chips if you want them so badly.”

“But I’ve gotta keep both hands on the wheel,” he replies cheekily. “Ten and two positions, at all times.”

You frown. “Didn’t they change it to nine and three?” Nonetheless, you reluctantly reach into the bag in your lap, pulling out a potato chip and delivering it to his waiting mouth. “Next one’s going straight into your nose,” you warn as he happily crunches down on the snack.

Jimin simply offers you a beatific grin in between chews. “Love you too.”

“Nope, I changed my mind. Next one’s going up your ass.”

Your brother has long since grown used to your threats. “Kinky,” he chuckles as he merges smoothly into the next lane over. The song on the radio shifts into something more upbeat, and Jungkook is quick to start humming along under his breath from his spot in the seat behind you. Within minutes, it’s morphed into a singalong, and the offkey warbling of all seven passengers—no matter how dissonant—is a perfect soundtrack for the remainder of the drive.

The beach, when you arrive, is awash with tourists and locals alike, all clamoring to lay claim to a prime stretch of sand and a decent parking space. Jimin manages to snag a spot just as someone else is pulling out, and the rest of you are quick to disembark and scope out the beach for somewhere to set up camp. Plopping your bag down onto the sand, you rifle through it until you find your sunscreen, mentally patting yourself on the back for buying the spray instead of the cream.

“Can I borrow that when you’re done, Noona?” Taehyung asks, watching you wrench off the cap.

You nod, squinting against the sunlight. “Sure. As long as you help me get my entire back.”

“Deal.”

Flashing him a grateful smile, you shimmy out of your shorts and begin applying sunscreen to your arms and legs. Taehyung peels off his t-shirt, and you spray him down too, making sure to coat his entire back before he takes the bottle and does the same to you.

“I might have gone a little overboard,” he admits once he’s done, capping the bottle and tossing it back into your bag. Warm hands settle onto your exposed shoulder blades, deft fingertips rubbing the excess product into your skin. “There, that should do it. All better.”

“Thanks, Tae.” You turn around and reach out, wiping at a stray fleck of the white lotion on his bicep. “You’ve got a little bit here too, hang on—“

“Mind if I borrow this?”

You turn at the sound of Jungkook’s voice. The dark-haired young man is standing there with your sunscreen in hand, his gaze zeroed in on the way your fingertips linger on Taehyung’s bare skin. Awkwardly, you pull away and nod, hoping that neither of them can hear your heart pounding erratically against your ribcage.

“Yeah. Sure. It’s all yours.”

Jungkook grabs his white t-shirt by the collar, tugging it up and over his head in one smooth motion, and you swallow at the way his taut abdomen flexes as he tosses it aside. “You’ll help me get my back too, won’t you, Noona?”

You nod, moving before he can even finish his sentence. Your feet carry you across the sandy ground on autopilot, and Jungkook exhales audibly as your palms smooth along the golden expanse of his muscular back, dipping down to the waistband of his black swim trunks. Ever since his visit to your bedroom last night, you’ve been itching to touch him—to feel every last inch of him. It’s impossible with your watchful brother and group of nosy friends hovering around though, so you settle for this—rubbing sunscreen into his warm skin while he sprays down his arms and legs.

“Thanks, princess,” he murmurs once you’re done, soft enough so that only you can hear and raising gooseflesh on the back of your neck. “Maybe next time, you’ll let me repay the favor.”

Then Yugyeom is calling his name, and Jungkook sprints down to the shoreline to join his friend in the crashing surf, his face creasing with laughter. Each time he emerges from the waves, droplets cling to his skin like glistening diamonds in the sunlight. It’s impossible to look away from the sight, and your tongue darts out to moisten your lips as you watch water drip off his hair and down his nape, pooling in his collarbones before he shakes his head like a dog and sends it spraying in all directions.

All that sunscreen is going to waste, a tiny voice in your head points out, but it’s hard to worry about that when you’re too busy following the path of the water streaming down past his dusky nipples to the ridges of his abdomen. And it’s almost as if he feels your gaze on him, because he’s suddenly staring right back at you, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips.

“Come on, Noona,” he calls, raking a hand through his drenched hair. “The water’s fine. Don’t make me drag you in.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” you call back, immediately regretting it when something equal parts mischievous and dangerous flashes across his face. There’s a glint in his eye that wasn’t there before, and you back away nervously as he emerges from the waves and saunters toward you. “Jungkook—”

“Yes?” he asks, his voice dropping down into a low purr. “What is it, princess?”

You edge around the towel that you’ve laid out in the sand, as if such a flimsy barrier could stop him in any way. “Just—just don’t dunk me under,” you plead.

Jungkook looks genuinely offended by that. “I would never,” he says, laying a hand over his heart and grabbing yours with his free one. “Now come on—let’s get you wet.”

You groan at the innuendo and try to tug free from his grip, but Jungkook only tightens his grasp, cackling the whole way down to the water.

///

The sun is just beginning to set, streaking the blue sky through with wispy strands of orange and gold, when Jimin raises his hand and declares it dinner time. For the past two hours, you’ve all been engrossed in a very tight three-on-three volleyball match with Jimin serving as referee, and upon hearing your brother’s declaration, Minho looks about ready to chuck the ball into the ocean.

“Dude, are you fucking serious? We’re literally two points from winning!” He gestures wildly at an invisible scoreboard only he can see. “No way we’re stopping here. I refuse on principle.”

“Yeah, I wanna see who the real winner is, too,” Jungkook drawls from the other end of the court, where he’s flanked on either side by Taehyung and Yugyeom. “I mean, we’ve been leading for most of the tournament, so…”

Minho scowls. “And we’re about to win the whole damn thing. Just you wait, Jeon.”

Behind him, you and Taemin exchange helpless glances. It isn’t the first time you’ve seen Jungkook and Minho squabble over the years, and you’re sure it won’t be the last. Both possess a razor sharp competitive streak and a certain pigheadedness that only emerges when it comes to athletic endeavors, and luckily, your brother knows this just as well as you do. Heaving a sigh, Jimin wearily gestures for them to continue, resuming his post at the end of the net. “Fine, fine,” he mutters. “Next point wins.”

On the other side of the net, Jungkook’s eyes narrow. “I’m good with that if you are.”

“Oh, I’m good,” Minho retorts. “It’s our serve. You ready?”

Jungkook smirks. “Bring it on.”

Minho cracks his knuckles and tosses the ball over to you for the serve. “All right then, let’s fucking do this.”

You sigh. Taking a deep breath, you heft up the ball, testing its weight before hitting it smoothly over the net. Yugyeom jumps up to intercept, batting it back over to your side, and Minho attempts to spike it back and into the sand. Unfortunately, Jungkook is too quick, and dives down to bump it back over to you. The back and forth continues like this for a while—you see Jimin boredly scrolling on his phone out of the corner of your eye—and you’re strongly considering calling it quits when Jungkook smashes the ball over the net and into the ground right at Minho’s feet.

“And that’s game,” he declares proudly, raking his sweaty hair off his forehead with a triumphant grin.

“Are you finally done?” Jimin asks, rolling his eyes and pocketing his phone. “Thank god. Can we eat now?”

Jungkook claps him on the back in affirmation, ignoring Minho’s loud, adamant protests that your team still technically won. Together, you head back to where your towels and bags sit in the sand, grabbing bottles of chilled water out of the cooler and fishing for snacks. Jimin pulls a package of hot dogs out while Taehyung rips open a bag of chips, and you follow their lead and grab the hamburger patties and buns. “Huh, I swear I bought ketchup,” you mumble to yourself as you rummage through the half-melted ice in the cooler. “Is it not in here?”

“I have it.” Jungkook materializes at your side, proffering the little red bottle. He’s pulled his white t-shirt back on, the material a stark contrast to his tanned skin, and you silently rise to your feet to take it when a sudden wave of lightheadedness rushes over you and sends the world spinning.

“Whoa,” you gasp, swaying on your feet. “Oh, god.”

Jungkook frowns and drops the ketchup bottle, steadying you until most of your weight is leaned against him. “Noona? Are you okay?”

You swallow, hard, and try to shake the unexpected bout of dizziness away. “I don’t know. Got dizzy, all of a sudden. I think I might have stood up too fast?”

Gently, Jungkook presses the back of his hand against your forehead. “You feel pretty warm,” he murmurs. “Have you had enough water today?”

“I thought I drank plenty, but maybe not,” you admit, and he nods decisively and gestures for you to follow him.

“Come on,” he says. “Let’s grab some water and go somewhere quiet so you can rest. Minho isn’t going to shut up about that match anytime soon, and it’s cooler down by the water.”

You laugh weakly. “We did technically win, you know. We had one more point than you guys.”

“God, not you too,” Jungkook sighs, casting you a playful look over his shoulder as he digs two bottles of water out from the cooler. He uncaps one and hands it over before taking a swig out of his, and you take a grateful sip, relishing in the cool liquid that trickles down your throat.

Nearby, your brother and the rest of the boys have commandeered one of several firepits scattered around the edges of the beach. They’re piling up pieces of driftwood and some of the long, tall sea grass that Taehyung has found, and Jungkook waves at them as he slowly guides you toward the ocean with a hand on your back. “We’re gonna go find some more wood!” he calls, and Jimin raises a hand in acknowledgment before turning back to the firepit.

Water laps gently at your toes as you and Jungkook walk along the shore, washing away all traces of your footprints. The sun dips below the horizon at last, illuminating the sky in one last burst of red and orange and gold that slowly fades into deep purples and blues as night falls. The temperature dips as the moon ascends to her lofty throne, accompanied by a smattering of starry pinpricks. Most of the beachgoers have packed up and left by this point, and here, with nothing but Jungkook’s quiet, familiar presence and the lapping waves, you feel more at peace than you have in a long time.

“You know, I’m really glad I came this weekend,” you say softly, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen between the two of you. Your gaze drops down to your toes, fixing your attention on a pearly white seashell that’s sticking out from the wet sand. “I think you were right—I really did need a break from everything.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t quite catch that,” Jungkook says, swirling his pinky in his ear. “Could you say it again? Something about me being right?”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, shut up.”

Jungkook casts a quick look over his shoulder, and when you follow the trajectory of his gaze, you notice just how far you’ve gotten from the firepit where the others are sitting. Darkness has settled over the beach, the sand painted a wan silver from the light of the moon, and you flinch when Jungkook’s hand finds its way around yours.

“Jungkook—” you begin, but trail off when he twines your fingers together and gives your hand a squeeze.

“They can’t see us, Noona,” he murmurs. “Relax.”

Easier said than done, you want to say. Nevertheless, you suck in a deep breath and take another sip from your water bottle, trying to ignore the way Jungkook swings your interlocked hands between you as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Shouldn’t—shouldn’t we be trying to find more driftwood?” you ask after several long seconds have dragged by. “We need way more if we’re gonna keep the fire going.”

Jungkook hums softly and veers inland, until the sand beneath your feet is dry and starts sticking to your wet toes. You come across a few scattered pieces of wood, dried out by the sun, and tuck them beneath your arm. Likewise, Jungkook gathers a few pieces of his own, hefting them up before reaching out to take your hand once more. His fingers slot all too comfortably into the spaces between yours, and your heart stutters a few times in your chest before plunking down into your churning stomach.

Nighttime has well and truly settled over the beach by the time you and Jungkook start picking your way back over to rejoin the group around the firepit. You pull your hand out of Jungkook’s well before you reach the ring of orange light that the flames cast across the sand, your arm now swinging free at your side and your fingers cold from the loss of his warmth. Silently, you hasten your pace and plop down onto the towel that Jimin has spread out, stretching out your legs toward the fire and wiggling your toes.

“Where have you guys been?” Jimin asks curiously. “You just kinda wandered off.”

“Getting more driftwood,” you reply, gesturing at the small pile you’ve dropped at the edge of the towel. “We told you that’s where we were going.”

Jimin frowns for a few seconds before the memory resurfaces. “Oh, right. I forgot.”

Jungkook snorts and takes a seat beside you, dropping his stack of driftwood on top of yours. “Dumbass.”

“You’re a dumbass,” Jimin retorts.

“You’re both dumbasses,” you sigh.

The fire crackles merrily, sending orange sparks up into the velvety black sky. There’s a grill situated over the flames, loaded with hamburger patties and hot dogs, and you watch as Jimin tears open a bag of hot dog buns and begins to place them around the edges.

“Hey, can you throw me the hamburger buns?” he asks you. “I wanna try toasting them.”

“You’re gonna burn them,” you tell him flatly. Nonetheless, you locate the second bag and toss it over, watching as he makes more room on the grill.

Dinner is a loud, chaotic affair, filled with laughter and conversation and plenty of booze to go around. Jimin has procured a flask of whiskey from somewhere in his clothing—an impressive feat in and of itself, considering he’s only wearing swim trunks and a thin blue t-shirt. You wave him off when he offers you a sip, and he shrugs and throws back a generous swallow himself. Then he offers it to Jungkook, who shakes his head and raises his water bottle. “Designated driver,” he says. “I’m sticking to water tonight.”

Curiously, you glance over at him. “You don’t have to do that. I wasn’t planning on drinking, so I can drive us back.”

“With the way you were looking earlier?” Jungkook fixes you with a look of pure disbelief. “Not a chance. Besides, we’re going back to the real world tomorrow, and the last thing I need is to be hungover. I have to get us back home in one piece, not to mention the entire menu I still have to memorize for work.”

You hum. Jungkook has mentioned his new job a few times—a summer stint working as a server at a new restaurant opened by a family friend named Seokjin. “Right, I remember you saying that. You start on Monday, don’t you?”

“Dinner shift,” Jungkook confirms. “I stole a whole bunch of pens from Junghyun’s room the other day in preparation. Jin said I’d probably end up losing two-thirds of them by the end of the week.”

“That sounds about right,” you tell him with a laugh. “Some guy stole my favorite pen last summer when I was working at that diner on Main. Lesson learned, forever.”

Jungkook laughs. “Yeah, I bet.”

You grin. “But, hey, seriously. If you need me to quiz you on that menu, I’ve got time to spare.”

“Honestly, I might take you up on that offer. I have flash cards, and everything.” He uncaps his water bottle and takes a long sip, his throat bobbing with each swallow, before glancing back over at you. “What about you? You ready for your internship?”

You sigh and offer him a helpless little shrug. “I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready, to be honest. I don’t think I’m going to stop stressing about it until I get through my first day. The entire thing still doesn’t feel real.”

“I get that,” Jungkook hums. “Well, I can imagine it, at least. I won’t pretend to know exactly what you’re going through, since I’ve never had an adult job, but—“ He shrugs a shoulder halfheartedly. “I can kind of relate, I guess.”

“All jobs suck a little bit,” you tell him, and Jungkook lets out a derisive huff of agreement.

“I’ll drink to that,” he says, and the two of you tap your water bottles together before rejoining the conversation with the rest of your friends.

///

The drive back to the lake house is shorter than you remember it being—though that might be because you spend most of it watching Jungkook drive. He steers with one hand slung carelessly over the wheel, his expression relaxed as he sings along to whatever pop hit plays on the radio. Unloading the car is a team effort, though you hear no shortage of complaints from Jimin as he heaves the cooler over the threshold of the house before collapsing atop it in a pile of limp limbs.

“Thanks for leaving me to carry this thing by myself,” he snarks, not even bothering to raise his head. “Really appreciate it.”

“Don’t be a baby,” Taehyung scoffs, tossing a game console at him. “Have a beer and pick something to play. We’re waiting on you.”

You watch as your brother immediately hops up and darts over to join the rest of the boys lounging in the living room, fighting back the sudden wave of exhaustion that washes over you. “I think I’m going to head to bed,” you tell them, hiding a yawn behind your hand. “Goodnight, guys.”

A chorus of goodnights and see you in the mornings rings out in response, and you wave before heading down the hall to your room and into the adjoining bathroom. Your hair is crusty from being submerged in the salty water of the ocean, and a shower to rejuvenate your dehydrated skin is just what you need. Turning on the tap, you wait until it’s flowing warm before stripping out of your clothes and tossing them onto your bed to deal with later. Then you step into the shower and tilt your head back, letting the water stream down your face and soak into your hair.

You’re midway through squeezing a generous dollop of shampoo into your palm when there’s a soft knock on the door. “Noona?” Jungkook’s voice filters through the sound of rushing water, low and lilting like a song. “You left kinda fast. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

You cap the shampoo bottle and replace it on the shelf, peering out from behind the shower curtain. “I’m fine,” you call, hesitating before you steel your nerves and continue. “You can come in, if you want. I don’t like yelling through the door.”

Slowly, the bathroom door eases open, revealing Jungkook standing in his and Jimin’s shared bedroom. His brown eyes are wide as he takes in the sight before him, and you have no doubt that he’s thinking about just what the palm tree patterned curtain is hiding from his view. Your lip finds its way between your teeth when you notice him shuffle his feet awkwardly for a moment before stepping a little closer to where you’re standing beneath the spray, his mouth opening to speak.

“Join me?”

The invitation slips past your lips, unbidden, but you have no intention of taking it back. Not when Jungkook’s gaze darkens to obsidian at those two simple words, his mouth snapping shut and his hands already reaching for the hem of his white t-shirt. Not when he strips it off in one smooth motion to reveal all the dips and ridges of his abdomen, his skin golden even under the harsh fluorescent bathroom lights. And certainly not when he pulls aside the shower curtain and joins you beneath the spray, his dark eyes appreciatively raking up and down your bare figure.

“Hey,” he says, his voice a low purr.

“Hi,” you respond, reaching out and trailing a fingertip down his chest.

And then you’re dropping down to your knees, your tongue darting out to tease at the tip of his already rising cock. One hand finds its way to his balls while the other traces the line of his pelvic bone, and you smirk when you feel him let out a shuddery breath.

“Fuck,” he rasps. “Someone’s eager.”

You wrap your lips around the tip of his cock, humming, and Jungkook’s fingers fly into your dampened hair. “Oh, fuck. You’re really trying to kill me, huh, princess?” he asks, and you respond by taking a little more of him into your mouth, laving at the vein running along the underside of his length before hollowing your cheeks. Jungkook throws his head back, a deep groan escaping his parted lips, and you preen under his encouragement as he urges you to take him deeper.

You’ve just begun to settle into a rhythm—figuring out exactly how much pressure he likes and what makes his hips buck—when he suddenly pushes you away. “Jung—” you begin, only to have him silence you with a searing kiss, grabbing you around the waist and hauling you to your feet.

“Wanna fuck you properly,” he rasps. His hand finds its way between your legs, experimental fingers sliding through the wetness that’s gathered there, and your cheeks heat up when he brings them to his mouth and licks them clean. “Just let me go grab a condom,” he whispers urgently. “Don’t move a muscle, okay? I’ll be righ—”

You silence him with a hard kiss. “Don’t,” you mumble. “I’m clean. Are you?”

Jungkook nods slowly, his eyes wide. “Does that mean… I mean, are you…?”

“I’m on the pill,” you murmur. “Fuck me raw, Jungkook.”

A sharp gasp escapes you when Jungkook cages you against the cool tiled wall of the shower, the slick surface dampened by the spray from the showerhead. He grabs ahold of your thigh and hoists it up to wrap around his waist, and you’ve never been more thankful for the ugly fish patterned shower mat that your mom insisted on putting down to prevent slipping. Jungkook nestles into the newly created space between your legs, his cock hot and slick against your center, and you keen when he grinds against you in a slow, deliberate motion.

“You feel that?” he rasps into your ear, his breath hot against your cheek. “Feel how hard you get me, Noona?”

“God, Jungkook,” you breathe back. “Just fuck me already, will you?”

His answering chuckle sends a shiver from your toes to your crown. “So needy,” he murmurs, his hand sliding from your thigh to your hip. His mouth seeks out yours as he positions the head of his cock at your entrance, meeting little resistance as he slowly begins pushing inside. Your walls part willingly for him and your lips do too—his questing tongue slipping inside when you moan and beginning his seemingly endless task of mapping out every corner of your mouth.

“God, I forgot how big you are,” you breathe when he bottoms out—the entirety of his hot, heavy length sheathed within your walls. Your head falls back against the tile as he rolls his hips experimentally, a moan that sounds vaguely like Jungkook’s name escaping your lips. Your arms come up to brace on his shoulders as he picks up his pace, but he intercepts one of your hands and twines your fingers together, settling them onto the wall just to the left of your head. His other hand returns to your thigh to keep you stable and spread out for his increasingly harsh thrusts, and you whimper helplessly in his ironclad grip.

“That’s it,” he whispers, groaning when you clench around him. “God, you’re so fucking tight, princess.”

“Fuck me open, then,” you moan back, squeezing his hand and meeting his next thrust with one of your own. Jungkook’s breathing stutters, and you laugh breathlessly at the way his mouth falls open at the spike of pleasure. Emboldened, you grind against him, the spray from the shower easing the movement. “Jungkook, please.”

He chuckles hoarsely. “Careful what you wish for,” he purrs against the shell of your ear, punctuating the warning with a harsh roll of his hips that sends all remaining thought flying out of your head. In this moment, there’s only Jungkook—his dark hair dampened and dripping, the spray from the showerhead slicking his chest and pooling in his clavicle before trailing down each ridge and dip of his honeyed skin. His lips find yours again, and you sigh into the kiss as he begins to fuck you in earnest.

“Hey, Jungkook! You in there?”

Your eyes fly open at the new voice, your body tensing when there are several loud bangs on the door. Jungkook freezes mid-thrust with an expression that can only be described as a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck, his throat bobbing nervously as he fights to find a response. You can practically see the gears whirring in his brain, and shove uselessly at his chest in an attempt to escape his steely embrace.

“That’s Jimin,” you hiss urgently, turning his face toward yours and prodding his cheek until his gaze refocuses. “What the fuck are we going to do?”

“Dude.” Jimin’s voice is laced with irritation. “I wanna brush my teeth! What the hell are you doing in there?”

Jungkook hesitates, glancing between you and the closed bathroom door. Then he inhales deeply, pressing a light kiss to your furrowed forehead before pulling the shower curtain closed, ensuring there are no gaps. “I got you,” he murmurs softly, his brown eyes boring into yours. “Don’t worry, okay?”

Your eyes flutter shut at the gentle pressure of his lips against your skin, but they fly open again when Jungkook breaks away and yells for Jimin to come in. Warm palms slide soothingly down your sides, but that doesn’t stop you from tensing up when the bathroom door creaks open, your brother’s soft footsteps approaching the flimsy palm tree patterned curtain.

“Have you been showering this whole time? Jeez. Leave some hot water for the rest of us, will you?”

Jungkook chuckles. Ever so slowly, he pushes forward until he’s fully seated inside you again, and you do your best to level a glare at him even as pleasure flares at the base of your spine. “There’s plenty to go around,” he says. “Relax.”

You get the distinct feeling that he’s not just addressing Jimin anymore. Jungkook pulls back until only the top of his cock remains nestled in your folds, and you open your mouth to berate him but all that comes out is a low moan when he sinks back inside you in one swift push.

On the other side of the curtain, you hear the faucet turn on. “Man, I can’t believe we leave tomorrow,” Jimin says over the sound of running water. “The weekend flew by.”

“Mmm,” Jungkook hums, brushing a thumb across your clit. The pace he’s set is slow and deep, and is made all the more sensual by the steam that’s steadily building up in the small room. You try once more to push him away—to quell the growing ache between your legs—but it’s all in vain as he chuckles softly into the crook of your neck, his bare shoulders quaking. “I got you, princess,” he murmurs, his voice a wicked little whisper that’s immediately lost in the spray of water. “Just let me take care of you, yeah?”

You don’t have a chance to answer. Jimin starts speaking again, this time accompanied by the sound of toothbrush bristles scrubbing against his teeth. “I’m starting up at the studio as soon as we get back—isn’t that crazy? I mean, I’ve never taught anyone how to dance before. Not really. Not for real.”

Jungkook snaps his hips up so sharply that you nearly mewl in surprise, forced to bite down into his meaty shoulder to muffle the noises that threaten to escape from your throat. “You’re a great tutor, man,” he says, his voice steady even as he resumes his slow, lazy thrusts, his cock dragging along your fluttering walls. “You’ve been helping people with math for, what, two years? What makes you think it’ll be any different with dancing?”

Jimin spits into the sink and sighs. “I don’t know. It’s scarier because there’ll be more people, I guess. Tutoring is one on one, y’know? And at the studio, I’ll have a full class of people watching me. Every single move I make, they’ll be looking at. That’s fucking terrifying to think about.”

Slowly, Jungkook’s hips still, his cock buried to the hilt in your cunt. Your heartbeat drums in your ears, backed by the relentless spray from the showerhead, and Jungkook leans down to plant a wet kiss on your cheek, his hair dripping.

“You’re a great dancer, Jimin,” he says once he’s pulled back and straightened back up to his full height. “Best one I know. You’re also one of the smartest people I know, but right now, you’re being really fucking dumb.”

There’s a clatter that sounds like a plastic toothbrush being dropped into the sink, and Jimin lets out an affronted squeak. “Hey!”

Jungkook just chuckles, his shoulders quaking. “It’s true,” he says easily. “Seriously, man. You don’t have a thing to worry about. You’re gonna kick ass out there, and your class is gonna be awesome. You’re already, what, almost maxed out on the number of registrants? You’re already killing it.”

Your brother lets out an unintelligible grumble on the other side of the shower curtain, but you can still hear the smile in his voice no matter how hard he tries to mask it. “All right, you fucking sap,” Jimin says at last, his soft footsteps padding toward the door. “Hurry up and get out of there, yeah? You’re really gonna use up all the hot water.”

The door clicks shut behind him, and you immediately smack Jungkook in the middle of his stupidly toned chest. “Oh my god!” you hiss. “Are you kidding me right now, Jeon? We could’ve been caught!”

“But we weren’t,” Jungkook replies easily, shaking his dampened hair out of his face and fixing you with an indolent little smirk. “So why don’t you be a good girl and cum for me now?”

///

The next morning brings with it a whirlwind of frenzied packing, and you mentally congratulate yourself for preemptively gathering all of your belongings together last night. Minho is wandering every last inch of the house with a piece of half-eaten toast dangling from his mouth, and you can hear Taehyung in the distance asking if anyone’s seen his strawberry body wash. Jungkook is seated on the floor near the front door, his brows furrowed and his lower lip jutting out in a pout as he fights to close the zipper of his suitcase.

“Got it!” he exclaims after a few seconds, triumphant. “Where’s your stuff, Noona? I’m gonna load the car.”

You begin to stand up from your spot on the couch. “It’s in my room, let me go get—”

Jungkook is on his feet and halfway down the hall before you can even finish your sentence. He returns a moment later with your luggage in tow, shooting you a grin and a wink as he passes by. “I got you, princess,” he murmurs. “Remember?”

Of course you do. You remember like it was yesterday—because, well, it was yesterday and you haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since. You remember the moment you shared at the beach and the way his hand felt so right wrapped around your own. You remember the way you’d dropped to your knees for him so readily in the shower last night. And you definitely remember the way he’d fucked you afterward—slow and deep in the best possible way, even with your brother’s untimely interruption.

After what feels like an eternity, both cars are finally packed and ready to go. You bid goodbye to the boys who are riding with Jimin, promising to stay in touch, before climbing into the passenger seat of Jungkook’s beat-up sedan. Jungkook himself is already lounging behind the wheel, his sunglasses perched low on his nose as he fiddles with his phone. He looks up at your entrance and flashes you a smile, tapping his screen a few more times before holding it up so you can see.

“I changed your contact photo,” he says. “Like it?”

You peer at his phone, and something in your chest clenches when you see the photo he’s selected. You’re on the beach beside the volleyball net, illuminated by the setting sun. The sky is streaked through with pink and orange behind you, but through some editing magic, Jungkook has made it so that you are glowing even brighter in the foreground—with laughter etched across your face and the wind in your hair. It’s a beautiful photograph, and you tell him so, unable to contain the dangerously warm affection blossoming in your chest.

“I love it,” you say. “I usually don’t like having my photo taken, but wow. You have a talent for this.”

Jungkook’s smile grows. “I have a pretty muse,” he replies, and your cheeks warm.

The door to the backseat opens with a bang, and you nearly jump out of your skin at the sudden sound. “Yo,” Yugyeom says, plopping down and buckling his seatbelt. “We ready to roll?”

Jungkook scowls and puts his phone back into his pocket. “Careful with the door, man. I need this thing to last through the summer.”

Yugyeom puts his hands up in apology, and Jungkook turns back to face the front, starting the ignition with a flick of his wrist. The engine sputters to life, and Jungkook waits for Jimin to pull out first before following after him, tailing the van out of the driveway and onto the winding road that will take you back into the city.

“Music?” you ask, gesturing at the stereo.

“Go for it,” Jungkook replies. “You want my phone so you can put on the roadtrip mix?”

“Sure.”

With the help of the upbeat music and Jungkook’s tendency to drive just a touch over the speed limit, you make it to the winding roads of Yugyeom’s neighborhood in what must be record time. “You missed the turn,” Yugyeom says lazily from where he’s sprawled across the entire backseat. “Turn left here—we can circle around and approach from the other side.”

Two more turns and a descent down a steep hill later, Jungkook manages to successfully drop Yugyeom off at his house. The drive across town takes no time at all, and before long, you’re cruising into your neighborhood, coasting past Jungkook’s driveway and straight into yours.

“Looks like we beat Jimin back,” you remark, looking at the empty spot where the van usually sits.

Jungkook hums. “Makes sense. He has more people to drop off.”

“Mm. Yeah.”

The sudden awkwardness that falls doesn’t go unnoticed by you. Clearing your throat, you reach for your purse, grabbing it from where it’s fallen to the ground near your feet. “I guess I’ll see you around then,” you begin, turning to open the door.

A strong hand wraps around your wrist, forcing you back into your seat. “Is that it?” Jungkook asks, and there’s an edge of something you can’t quite place in his voice. “Are you gonna go back to pretending like there’s nothing between us?”

You shake him free. “There isn’t anything between us,” you whisper. “We’re not on vacation anymore, Jungkook. We’re back home. Back to real life. We can’t do—whatever it is that we’ve been doing.”

“But you’re attracted to me,” Jungkook growls. “You like me. So why do you keep running away?”

A sigh escapes you. “Jungkook, it doesn’t matter if I like you or no—”

He interrupts before you can even finish your sentence. “Yes it does. It’s the only thing that matters.” And then he’s pulling you into his chest, taking advantage of your skewed sense of balance, and crushing his mouth to yours.

This kiss is different from the others you’ve shared so far. It’s hungry and passionate, and yet it’s tinged with something else—something that feels strangely akin to desperation. Jungkook kisses you with urgency, and it’s so raw and unbridled that it steals the very breath from your lungs and leaves you lightheaded.

Jungkook doesn’t say a word when he pulls away. Instead, he reaches down, popping the handle that opens the trunk and stepping out to pull your suitcase from within. Silently, he presses the handle into your hand.

And then he’s turning—climbing back into his car and leaving you with nothing but the memory of his lips and a whirlwind of thoughts in your mind.

#bangtanarmynet #jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook scenarios #bts smut #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts fanfiction #jeon jungkook #bts #lia writes

[missameliep]

SECOND CHANCES - CHAPTER TWENTY TWO: A BEAUTIFUL NIGHT

Book: Desire and Decorum – Modern AU 

Rating: G

Word count: ~7K (huge, i know)

Summary: The weekend at Edgewater reserves many surprises to Elizabeth and her friends, and might turn out to be just what some of them need to speak up about their feelings...

Characters: Elizabeth Foredale (OC); Briar Daly; Edmund Marlcaster, Annabelle Parsons; Prince Hamid; Luke Harper; Dominique Foredale; Vincent Foredale; Mr. Sinclaire.

Notes: 

* All characters belong to Pixelberry, except OC.

* I want to thank @princess-geek for being my beta in this chapter and her support to my writing. You're a treasure, my friend! 💝

* This is my awfully late submission to @choicesjanuarychallenge2022: Day 12. stairs

Smiling, Elizabeth sings along in the chorus of another pop song from the playlist she created with Briar and Annabelle, looking out of the window, the countryside slips by. Villages with ancient stone houses come into sight for a moment, disappearing in the next. The further they went North, the less traffic ahead. London has given space to greened hills that were now covered by the blanket of darkness. Though, even before the nightfall, the dark and heavy clouds hanging above barely let any sunlight through.

The weather forecast predicts rain for the weekend; however, this predicament did not reduce Elizabeth’s enthusiasm to see Edgewater, nor her friends’, who are looking forward to spending fun days together.

The car swivels to the left, taking a secondary road. Behind the wheel, Edmund Marlcaster relaxes. The closest red lights flicker many meters away and disappear after the curve. Adjusting the rear-view mirror, he takes a good look at Briar, who was doing a little dance.

“I love that song!” Briar chanted from the backseat.

When another pop song started playing on the radio, she and Elizabeth singalong, ignoring Edmund’s visible annoyance after he pleads to play something else.

“No,” they both reply in chorus, and laugh. However, despite the failed attempt to change the playlist, he smiles softly when his gaze meets Briar’s.

“How long till we get to Edgewater?” Briar asked, trying to keep his attention a moment longer.

“We’re halfway now.”

Elizabeth takes the mobile from her bag and checks the messages.

“Hamid says they are on their way,” Elizabeth announced, and her attention was absorbed by the mobile while she typed the response; meanwhile, Edmund’s eyes found Briar's again on the rear-view mirror. She offered him one of her most flirtatious smiles and a wink, causing him to flush bright red.

“So… Edmund, is your fiancée joining us?”

Edmund coughed a few times, and Elizabeth cast a side glance at him. Clearing his throat, he managed to find his voice.

“No, Theresa is staying at London during the break.”

Averting her eyes, Briar hummed to herself, and a smile curled her lips.

“Doesn’t she mind you going to Edgewater without her?”

“She has her own plans with –” Edmund paused, searching for the appropriate word to not speak ill about the vipers that are Felicity Holloway and Donna Bowman. “Friends. She’ll spend most of her time occupied helping Felicity with her party. By the way, Theresa mentioned your name was on the list, Eliza… Are you going to the party?”

“Absolutely not! I already RSVP’d my ‘no’.”

“Oh,” he sighed, without looking away from the road, “I was hoping you'd keep me company…”

“Sorry. I really need my Felicity free time.”

“I envy you!” he muttered.

“There will be plenty of people to keep you company… Even Hamid is going.”

“You’re letting him?” Briar howled her question from the backseat, startling the other two.

Turning around on her seat to face her, Elizabeth asked, “What do you mean I’m letting him? Briar, he’s a grown man who can go wherever he likes...”

Her words were received with a dramatic eye roll and a disapproving slowly shake of head.

“Unbelievable!”

“Hamid is thrilled to wear his zombie costume... and I’ll help with the makeup.”

“Have you ever heard about that party and what goes on there, Lizzy? There will be a throng of gorgeous girls on the pull and a geezer man like Hamid all by himself...” Briar trailed off, casting a knowing look at her friend. “You know what can happen, right?”

“Well... it’s up to him.”

“Won’t you mind if he meets someone?” Briar insisted, “What if he starts dating? What if he falls in love?”

Elizabeth swallowed the lump on her throat and looked outside. “What if he already did?”

“Oh, my God! Are you talking about yourself? Did he say he love you?”

“What? No; why would he?”

“Must I state the obvious?”

“We’re friends.”

“You’re more than that! You’re more like a real couple than some couples I know.” Briar scoffed, crossing her arms.

“Briar, please,” – Elizabeth turned around again, facing the passenger seat’s window – “I don’t feel like having that conversation again…”

“But, Lizzy, only the truth will set you free!” The seat belt snapped, pulling Briar back when she tried to lunge forward and approach Elizabeth. “You must acknowledge your feelings and speak up! You love him!”

Elizabeth’s head snapped back to face the other. The word love was definitely a stretch, but Briar has no parsimony in using that verb, especially when referring to her relationship with Hamid. Whenever she does, Elizabeth scowls in the most unladylike way imaginable. She does not love Hamid. How could she? They barely know each other. That’s not how this love thing works. Hamid is someone dear to her, someone she cares about and wants to have close. But love? No, she is not in love, but it’s futile to argue with someone who does not listen to reason.

“I beg you stop this nonsense once Hamid gets there,” Elizabeth said softly with pleading eyes, “I don’t want things getting awkward... He told me he likes someone and wanted –”

“What?” Briar cried, eyes open wide and eyebrows shooting up and disappearing underneath the black bangs; the car swivelled slightly with Edmund’s reaction to the high-pitched noise, and Briar apologised.

Even Edmund, who abstained himself from joining the conversation this far, looked gobsmacked. “He actually told you that, Eliza?”

“Yeah. Last time we met… He asked me advice on the matter… Why would he do that unless we are only friends?”

“That’s impossible!” Briar exclaimed, “What were his words exactly?”

Burying herself further into the seat, she rested her hands on her lap, and reminisced for a moment. “Suffice to say he asked me advice on how to talk to this woman, because he gets speechless around her.”

“Speechless? Hamid?” Briar snorted. “Are we talking about the same guy who never shuts up?”

Edmund cast a sideway glance at his stepsister. “This woman must be really extraordinary to leave someone as eloquent as Hamid tongue-tied.”

“Probably. And I’m not ready to hear about her. Or them. I need time to process this and whatever it means to our friendship... so please, let us all have a quiet weekend.”

“I cannot promise quiet. I cannot promise I won’t try to set you two up either. Or lock you in a room together. With only one bed and –”

“Briar!” Elizabeth squealed, and Edmund snorted with laughter.

“You are my friend, Lizzy. I will not lie to you.”

“Welcome to Edgewater,” Edmund announced when the manor comes unmistakably into sight after a curve, the façade illuminated by a soft yellow glow, and recited the same words one can read in the brochures about the estate. Elizabeth knows it is a show for Briar, however, her very own heart races at the sight.

“Quite impressive,” Briar sighs, nose a hairsbreadth to the window. “Can you imagine all the secret romances, intrigues and betrayals that have happened there over the years?”

Elizabeth and Edmund shared a knowing look. “Yes, we can.”

After crossing the gate, the car followed the path through a manicured lawn with statues illuminated by yellowish lights. Everything looks so quiet, but Elizabeth knows how deceiving that is. Similar to other manor’s this size, Edgewater has an army of employees working from dawn to dusk and beyond; and depending on who is staying at the house, gossip is served 24/7.

When they pulled over, members of the staff were already waiting. While one took their luggage, another guided the trio inside, where Lady Dominique waited to offer a proper welcome. No sign of the countess, despite the news she would be staying at the manor until the end of the following week. Maybe she was avoiding Elizabeth, and she would not complain if she did this the entire weekend.

“Where’s the wicked witch?” Briar whispered into Elizabeth’s ear, acknowledging the absence too.

Holding a chuckle, she forced a polite smile to greet her grandmother.

After the proper greetings, Lady Dominique asked about the rest of the party, and Elizabeth explained they were coming with Annabelle.

“Annabelle is such a talented young lady. Did she tell you how she used to come here often and play the piano for us?” Elizabeth nodded, and Lady Dominique smiled wistfully. “It will be delightful to have her here again.” After a pause, certainly reminiscing about her grandson Harry, the woman collected herself, and her gaze focused on the present.

“Now, you should go upstairs and get ready. Flora is waiting for you, and I asked Joanne to assist Miss Daly. I will guarantee the others are welcomed and escorted to their respective rooms.”

With a polite smile, Elizabeth thanked her grandmother. Despite her disagreements, she admires the way she manages to run things at the house so smoothly. There is usually not a situation unforeseen. The moment she learned about the plans to the weekend, she was extremely zealous and helpful; even if Elizabeth suspects it is another attempt to earn her forgiveness after the incident with Felicity, she thanks her again for everything.

Accompanying the trio out of the parlour, Lady Dominique was amused by Briar’s wonder.

“This is all so fancy! It looks like a museum. But in a good way, of course.”

Lady Dominique expressed her gratitude, without hiding the pride in being the major responsible for the current decoration and pointed at some esteemed items. After speaking to one of the employees, Lady Dominique proceeded to tell them about the accommodations, and soon Elizabeth, Edmund and Briar were on their way to the stairs.

“I thought we were all staying together in one giant room, and have a big slumber party.”

“Maybe some other time.” Elizabeth smiled.

“Don’t ever expect Lady Dominique to allow single young ladies to share accommodations with male guests, unless they are in some sort of extremely official commitment,” Edmund explained, following her dangerously close upstairs, delighting on the sweet smell of her shampoo.

“I have a feeling my mother would get along well with Lady Dominique…” Briar snorted.

“Briar, your room is in the family wing, next to mine,” Elizabeth said when they reached the second floor. “Annabelle’s too.”

The news she would have a room for herself and a bathtub in the en-suite made Briar squeal, and both Edmund and Elizabeth were amused by her reaction.

When the door from Elizabeth’s room closed, Briar mused for a second, biting on her lower lip. Lingering by the door of the assigned room, she looked over her shoulder at Edmund who was debating with himself on what to do next.

“And where’s your room, Eddie?” Briar asked and her voice was barely above a whisper.

“Mine?” he gasped, then pointed at a door across the hallway.

“Good to know.”

“It is?”

“Of course.” Briar grinned. “I need to know where to find you to hold you to your word.” His eyebrows shoot up and almost disappeared beneath the ash blond hair. When there was only confusion in his eyes, she teased, “Your promise; or have you forgotten the reason you’ve invited me to Edgewater?”

“Lady Clara’s journal! Of course. I will definitely take you to the library… and we can look at the journals together… if you wish…”

“I expect you to fill me in all the gossip about Lizzy’s great-great-grandmother.”

“Absolutely.”

“Alright then. See you later.” With those words, she waved and closed the door. The man couldn’t hide his smile.

Elizabeth picked the mobile from the vanity and checked the messages. She could hardly wait to see her friends’ reaction to the surprise. Annabelle and Hamid have been present to the historical re-enactments at Edgewater, but Briar and Luke have never seen them personally. What would they think about being part of one? Judging by the pictures in the group chat and Pictagram, at least Briar was enjoying the look. There was no text from the others, which increased her fear that Hamid could be offended.

“Your hair is done, ma’am,” said the woman standing behind Elizabeth, observing her expectantly.

“Thank you, Flora.” Elizabeth smiled at her reflection, her curly brown hair was deftly pulled up in a bun with braids at the top of the head. “It’s perfect,” she said softly at the woman.

“Can I assist you with anything else?”

“I’m fine,” Elizabeth said, and her words were the queue to Flora collect and organize whatever was used to do the hair and were occupying almost every free space over the antique vanity. Quietly, the woman excused herself, leaving the young Viscountess alone in her room to finish getting ready for dinner.

After putting on the earrings and necklace, Elizabeth got up, smoothed the skirt of the dress, and took another look at her reflection, still debating on how she felt about the Empire-waisted ivory dress with a bodice with golden embroidery, puff sleeves, an embroidered fine sheer silk that covered the long skirt. An unexpected look even to someone used to gala dresses. Swaying in front of the mirror, the golden details sparkled under the light, projecting little diamond shapes in the floor, and she smiled.

The sound of someone knocking at the door rapid and strong, startled her. Her mind pictured the only person she wished would come knock on her door, and her heart accelerated at the thought. In the blink of an eye, her hand reached the doorknob. The sight of Briar standing in the hallway, was not what she desired. Though, the other was too overjoyed to notice the disappointment in her face.

“Lizzy, I’m never ever taking this off my body!” Her friend’s excitement could not be contained in her tiny body, and it overflowed in her eyes, smile, and voice. Like a ballerina, she twirled in her long purple and golden dress also with the same kind of high waistline and embroideries, black hair pulled up in an elaborated bun, with a few loose strands framing her smiling face.

Another door clicked open, and Annabelle came out in a long satin ruby red gown with a richly ornamented bodice. “Why are you being so loud?” she teased Briar, brandishing a mascara brush, “I almost poked my eye!”

“How are you not screaming, Ann?”

“I don’t know about you, but I can’t do my makeup while screaming…”

“Hush! I love this dress! And I love the corset! My spine has never been straighter and look!” – she exaggeratedly pointed both hands at her breasts – “I look like a C cup now!”

The others laughed, and Briar pulled them to a photo. After complimenting each other’s looks some more and a little demonstration from Elizabeth on how to hold the skirts to go down the stairs, the three were ready to make their appearance. However, footsteps coming from the other wing caused them to halt.

“And look who else has outdone himself,” Briar nudged Elizabeth, pointing at Hamid sporting the Ottoman attire Elizabeth had picked for him.

Bowing with an exaggerated flourish, Hamid addressed them in his most charming tone and flashed an equally charming grin, “Good evening, ladies!”

While Hamid kissed the hand Briar held out to him, she theatrically fanned herself with an invisible fan. However, quickly, Hamid’s gaze found Elizabeth’s, and she returned his smile, pleased to see his choice of outfit and no visible sign of annoyance.

“This outfit is amazing!” Annabelle said, and Hamid opened his arms to let her inspect the details in the golden embroideries in his long teal kaftan, that was an accurate reproduction like the dresses the trio was sporting. “Now I wish I could paint portraits of all of you!” she sighed disappointed.

“If our host allow us the use of futuristic technology, we could take pictures,” Hamid suggested looking at Elizabeth, who giggled.

“Pictures? Do tell us more about that...”

“A wonderful invention, my lady, that shall make painters jobless!”

Slipping out of character, Annabelle feigned offense, “I resent that, Hamid.”

After an effusive apology to the artist of the group, more banter ensued before the four huddled with Hamid in the middle. Following Briar’s directions, a few selfies were taken, and once Briar was satisfied, she posted the best two to Pictagram.

“Brilliant! And look at you!” Briar cried, turning the screen to Elizabeth’s face, “You look like those portraits at the museum!”

Embarrassed, Elizabeth blushed and looked away. “We all look lovely.”

Annabelle and Briar did not ignore the way Hamid contemplated the young Viscountess, studying her as if she were indeed a portrait from a Renaissance master; sharing knowing looks, they excuse themselves to find Luke downstairs, and deliberately left him alone with Elizabeth.

The man did not waste the opportunity and stepped closer. His intoxicating perfume filled the air around them, and in such proximity his eyes sparkled more than the silver medallion hanging from his neck or all the golden in his outfit.

“She is right,” Hamid whispered. Taking her hand, he kissed it unhurriedly, lingering on her knuckles while never tearing his gaze from her face. “Tonight, you look like you stepped out of a painting,” he explained still holding her hand, “The most exquisite masterpiece, I must add.”

Heat creeped up her neck, straight to her face, tinting her cheeks in a darker pink hue, and she wished he would not notice. However, judging by his grin, she could never dissimulate how he affects her.

Clearing her throat, Elizabeth changed the subject, “I see you picked the Ottoman attire.”

“How could I choose anything else? It is gorgeous, and it suits me to be a prince for the evening, don’t you think?” he asked, straightening his posture.

She nodded, averting her gaze. “I was afraid you could think it was offensive.”

“I figured by the two-page note where you apologised several times in case it was discriminatory or distasteful, and suggested I could wear that boring British suit, or my own suit or whatever I felt like… I must say this last part actually let me a bit confused about the dress code, and I considered coming in my pyjamas, but I don’t think my charm would be enough to prevent Lady Dominique from sending me immediately back to London …”

“Don’t mock me…”

“I would never. I was just remarking the comical aspects...” He smiled fondly and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I appreciate your concern. But you should not have worried so much. I know you, and your heart.”

“My heart?” she scoffed. If you knew my heart, you would never ask me advice about someone else! “Isn’t this a little presumptuous?”

He chuckled and pressed her hand against his chest, and she looked up at his face, his smile almost reaching his ears, dimpling his cheeks and crinkling the corners of his eyes. “I am not humble when it comes to my skills,” he said, and his words still carried the lilt of his laugh, “and you, Lady Elizabeth, have a heart of gold and only a fool would mistake your actions like that... And I am no fool, yes?”

Tilting his head, he gazed at her face. His heart drummed beneath her palm in a steady cadence. She could not resist staring at his shapely lips curled into a wide grin. For a second, she almost forgot herself and where they were; at least, until the indistinct sounds from the conversation Annabelle, Briar and Luke were engrossed at the ground floor reached her ears.

“Hamid,” she breathed his name.

“People expect us… May I escort you downstairs, my lady?”

She acquiesced, and he placed her hand in the crook of his elbow. In that moment, she was no longer Elizabeth, but the protagonist of a period drama, and Hamid was the charming love interest, who could inspire anyone to defy the entire society for their love.

“According to your note, my outfit was inspired by one that belonged to the Imperial prince who married the countess. What about your stunning dress? Was it by any chance inspired by one of hers?”

“Yes!” she replied, excited at the chance of talking about the subject. “Actually, mine and Briar's were inspired by her outfits. This one was modelled after one of Countess Clara's portraits. It’s said it was a gift from her father, and the one chosen when she presented herself before Queen Charlotte for the first time. Lady Grandmother showed me this reproduction of a note that a London newspaper wrote about her elegance at the time. They praised her as the most beautiful debutante in the Season.”

“I can imagine. And you are doing justice to her elegance, Lady Elizabeth, and dare I say, you outshined her beauty.”

“Have you even seen her portraits?”

“I don’t have to,” he said in a serious tone, and gazed with adoration. Elizabeth’s heart threatened to escape, pounding against its cage with unprecedent impetus.

When they reached the ground floor, despite the indiscrete stares of their friends, he kissed her hand again.

“Thank you for allowing me the pleasure of your company, Lady Elizabeth. Or should I call you Lady Clara for the evening?”

“If it is important to your commitment to your character, you can. And perhaps I will call you Your Highness for the rest of the evening as well.”

“Nothing would please me more, my lady,” he said in the most pompous tone he could impersonate and enveloped her hand with both of his, his thumb gently drawing circles in her skin. “Now, since we are impersonating them, does this mean I get to escort you the whole evening?” he asked inching closer. The intensity of his gaze burned her skin, but she did not avert her gaze this time, and her lips parted to answer.

However, instead of Elizabeth, it was someone behind them who replied.

“Actually, according to proper etiquette, if you were a true Regency couple you would spend most of the evening apart, focusing your attention on the enjoyment of your guests,” Lady Dominique said in her grave voice.

“How does she do that?” Briar mouthed to Annabelle, uttering the surprise etched in her and Luke’s faces watching the elderly woman approach them barely making a sound. Annabelle shrugged, then offered a warm smile at the elderly woman, who patted her arm fondly.

“However, this evening Lady Elizabeth will be hosting us, and a much less formal setting has been chosen. One more suitable for a night amongst friends in the twenty-first century.”

The elderly woman’s fingers encircled the delicate pendant hanging from Elizabeth’s necklace and she simply smiled. The gesture probably a pretence to address her granddaughter.

“You look absolutely stunning, my dear. You would make this house proud in any century.”

Elizabeth thanked her and returned the smile.

“And you look extraordinarily elegant, Lady Dominique.” Hamid bowed and kissed her hand, and she thanked him, taking the opportunity to contemplate everyone dressed in Regency Era fashion.

“Don’t you all look lovely?” she said. “However, I believe the foyer is not the place any of us was supposed to be right now.”

“Of course. Follow me,” Elizabeth said, leading the group to the drawing room.

When Elizabeth entered the room, her jaw almost fell. Sitting with her father was Mr. Sinclaire. Both dressed in contemporary suits and engaged in a serious conversation that had creased their brows. Seeing the group, her father grinned, stood up and walked in their direction; Mr. Sinclaire followed him close, hands behind his back and uneasiness in his eyes.

“Welcome to Edgewater. We are content to host Eliza’s friends this weekend. I hope you all have a pleasant stay.”

Her father kissed her cheek, and she hugged his waist with one arm. Leaning closer, he spoke softly, “I am awfully sorry, my dear, for not wearing the ensemble. You know how thrilled with the idea I was, but our meeting got delayed…”

“I understand, dad.”

“I hope you don’t mind the intrusion, Miss Foredale, but your father extended me an invitation.”

“I do not mind at all, Mr. Sinclaire. You’re a friend of the family and you’re always welcome at Edgewater.”

Mr. Sinclaire bowed, and a hint of a smile curled his lips.

Working with him this past month and having his company at events was important to get to know him a little better. They have become friendlier, but not exactly friends. Either way, it’s a remarkable progress considering how reserved Mr. Sinclaire is, and they feel less awkward around the other.

Earl Vincent excused himself to make rounds, leaving Elizabeth and Mr. Sinclaire alone. Somehow, Briar and Edmund managed to sit together at the furthest corner possible and whatever they were talking about was more appealing than anyone or anything else, including the food.

Holding a tray with hors d’oeuvres, a member of the staff dressed in a uniform that resembled the ones used in the manor in the 1800s approached Elizabeth and Mr. Sinclaire, who picked one tartlet.

“Was that the secret meeting?” she asked Mr. Sinclaire who had taken a nibble at the tartlet.

“I never said it was secret,” he replied. “The client requested discretion and I complied. Like we ought to.”

“I am your assistant and the client’s daughter.”

“Therefore, I assume you will not feel discouraged to ask your father details about the meeting.”

Elizabeth cast a sideway glance at the man; he is smirking, knowing she won’t interrogate her father about any subject they discussed.

“Maybe I will...”

Ending their conversation, she waltzed to where her friends were engrossed in an animated conversation with her father, standing close to Luke.

“This is amazing. I lack the talent to play any instrument, however I can still appreciate –” Earl Vincent interrupts himself when Elizabeth approaches the group. “Eliza, did you know your friend can play the violin?”

“Yes, father, I am aware.”

“If only we still had one... Luke could delight us with a performance.”

Elizabeth glanced at Luke, eager to apologise for any annoyance in advance, but he offered a content smile to her and her father.

“It would be my pleasure, sir.”

The Earl of Edgewater smiled fondly, certainly delighted with the breath of fresh air the lively group brought to the manor.

“We may not have a violin; however, we have a piano that has been neglected these past several months and dearly misses to be played.”

Understanding the hint, Annabelle laughed. “Why, we cannot have that, can we, sir? Perhaps I should play it later.”

“You read my mind, my dear,” Earl Vincent joked, earning a few chuckles from Hamid. “And to make the night absolutely perfect, perhaps Eliza could join you for a duet...”

Elizabeth visibly cringed and tried to disguise it by taking the glass of wine to her lips.

Annabelle sought to sort that out with the Earl and Lady Dominique, both already excited with the prospect of a soirée overflowing with music and laugh, and suggesting songs for the repertory.

“I will have someone bring the songbooks.”

“Did you hear that?” Elizabeth asked. “We’re been summoned to dinner.”

“I did not hear a thing.” Lady Dominique looked at the doorway where someone from the staff was supposed to ring the bells like it used to be done in the past. “Are you certain?”

“Absolutely.”

“I heard it too,” Hamid avowed. “My mouth already waters in anticipation of the delicacies the cook has chosen to surprise us, my lady.”

“Indeed, I believe it will not disappoint. The menu is suitable for a special evening, Mr. Osmanoğlu.”

Hamid placed a hand on Elizabeth’s back, and she breathed relieved watching Lady Dominique inviting the group to place their mobiles in a wooden box before going to the dining room.

“Thanks.”

“Will you allow me the pleasure to escort the most beautiful heiress to the dining room?”

“Well, you’ll have to ask her yourself...” Elizabeth joked, and Hamid nudged her side.

“I am asking her!”

Smiling shyly, she offered her hand, which he promptly placed in the crook of his elbow, and they handed their mobiles to be stored before walking together to the dining room. From the corridor, they still could overhear Briar’s opposing the idea.

“What if we want to take photos?”

“The meals are made to be enjoyed, not photographed,” Lady Dominique insisted, and Briar hesitated. “You will have your mobile back after dinner.”

The two giggled, and Hamid leaned to speak closer to Elizabeth.

“Will you really deny us the joy to hear you play?”

“I do not perform in public anymore.”

“Public?” he asked with an offended pout. “We’re your friends. And fans.”

“Fans? None of you ever saw me perform.”

“Are you sure about that?” he teased, “I know people too.”

“You wouldn’t...”

“You went after my childhood pictures… maybe I have videos of your recitals, Miss Foredale.”

“Correction. Your sisters came to my DMs. Then two of your cousins. And your aunt. It would be rude to tell them not to send your pictures and videos.”

“Videos? Which videos?”

“Which ones do you not want me to see?”

“You’re bluffing...” He narrowed his eyes at her.

“Maybe... or maybe not.” Elizabeth giggled and pulled him. “Now, come. We must find our seats...”

The illumination of the immense room had been dimmed, and flameless led candles created an intimate atmosphere at the long wooden table covered with a white tablecloth where elegant dining utensils were neatly arranged to accommodate the party. Beautiful floral arrangements made the dining room look even more beautiful than she remembered.

Elizabeth’s lips curled into a wide smile. “Isn’t it beautiful?” she uttered the words with sheer amazement.

“Stunningly beautiful,” he replied, eyes fixed on her face, and she pretended not understanding what he implied.

Chatter increased around them, when everyone was gathered at the room, and Briar still lamented parting from her mobile.

Gentlemanly, the Earl helped Lady Dominique, then occupied the seat at the head of the table. His daughter’s name was written in a beautiful cursive font on the card on his other side. Due to the countess still unexplained absence and to accommodate Mr. Sinclaire, the sitting chart had been reorganized. For instance, Elizabeth noticed how Hamid's name had been moved from the place beside her to give room to Mr. Sinclaire. Considering it was a small gathering and people would still be able to enjoy themselves despite the minor changes, she held her tongue. Whatever else were her grandmother’s intentions behind the new arranges, she wouldn’t let it get under her skin.

“I suppose we part here,” Hamid said with a smile, oblivious to the changes, and pulled the chair to help Elizabeth sit, a gesture that earned teasing remarks from their friends. “But our conversation is not over,” he whispered so only she could hear and moved to the other side, to take his seat beside Annabelle.

While enjoying the delicious courses and the conversations – which navigated from political topics and the latest news to art and even a little bit of gossip to Briar’s utter pleasure –, Elizabeth and Hamid stole glances at each other from time to time, like true characters of a Regency novel. Both smiling at the wordless jokes exchanged in their meaningful looks, anticipating what the other might say.

To everyone’s amusement, Hamid delighted them with the many stories of his travels and funny diplomatic incidents. Even Mr. Sinclaire chuckled at the retell of one of his gaffes at Russia.

“Why did no one warn you?” Luke asked, wiping a tear escaping from his eye, after all the laughing.

“Who knows?” Hamid's shoulders raised almost touching his ears and he grinned. “However, afterwards the Minister bent over laughing. Actually, he cackled. Loudly. Many people never saw him smile before that evening!”

The presents laughed almost as much as the Russian Minister from the tale, only stopping when a new course arrived. Desserts were served after the fourth course, and then it was time to return to the drawing room. It didn’t take long until the first plea to Annabelle play be heard, and she obliged after finishing the brandy in her glass.

Standing beside Edmund, who smiled against the scotch tumbler while admiring Briar dancing in Hamid’s company, Elizabeth also observed the pair. Her mind, however, was on a complete opposite setting from her step-brother’s.

“Can I ask you a question?” Elizabeth’s soft voice broke the spell, and her step-brother’s gaze teared from the couple dancing. “How can one know if a flirty guy is flirting with you because he likes you, or if he’s just charming you like he does to anyone else?”

Edmund’s eyes squinted in thought before addressing her. “Is this you asking romantic advice from me? In a room where every single person is more qualified than myself?” She nodded and he downed the remaining of the liquid in the tumbler in one gulp. “Why don’t you ask the guy?”

“I’m not doing that.”

“Then the only other option is mind reading, and I cannot help with that.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m serious!”

“Are you talking about him?” Edmund tilted his head to the spot Hamid was having a blast following Briar’s directions to what seemed some sort of ballroom dance probably inspired by one of the scenes from the 2005 version of Pride & Prejudice. “I am no expert, but... when he flirts, does he look at anyone else the way he looks at you?”

Elizabeth's head jerked up and she stared at him. “What do you mean? How does he look at me?”

“If you have to ask, I believe you haven’t been paying enough attention...”

Silently, she observed Hamid and Briar. Edmund smiled when the man’s gaze found Elizabeth and his grin widened, confirming what he suspects.

“I’ll get another drink. Do you want one, Eliza?”

“No, thank you,” she said and returned to the settee where Luke was enjoying the music by himself.

When the second song was over, Briar and Hamid finished their impromptu waltz in a fit of giggles; and Lady Dominique suggested, “Elizabeth, my dear, you should join Annabelle and delight us with your angelic voice.”

The attention focused on the young woman.

“I don’t know...” she said wringing her hands. “It is awfully late, and we have plenty planned for tomorrow...”

“It’s not even midnight!” her father remarked. “I believe your friends wouldn’t mind losing a bit of sleep in exchange of listening to you. I know I wouldn’t.”

“I second that,” Hamid said, joining the chorus who begged her to play.

“Play with me!” Annabelle invited, patting the empty space beside her with the most impressive performance of the puppy eyes to this day. “Please! It’ll be fun!”

Briar plopped beside her, “You better accept it already, Lizzy! We can be very persuasive.”

“You mean terribly insistent?”

“No, I do not. And Edmund said you loved playing.”

“Loved. Past tense.”

“Seriously, what’s the worst that could happen if you’d give it a try, Liz?” Luke asked and she considered which would be the worst possible scenarios.

Disappointing her father would be almost impossible at this point. If she sits right in the bench and not falls off, he’ll possibly cheer her for that. Another possibility is embarrassing herself in front of Mr. Sinclaire. Though, he wouldn’t be her boss for long, and whatever critics about her skills couldn’t possibly be worse than her own judgement.

As if listening to her thoughts, Luke added, “Even if you make mistakes, your audience is maybe a little too tipsy to notice…”

Besides being the only sober and able to discern if she sucked at the piano, Hamid was too kind to criticise her and would certainly find something positive to say about her horrible performance.

With a resigned sigh, she got up and marched to the piano, sitting with Annabelle.

“We need an easy one… I’m a little rusty,” Elizabeth confided.

Amongst giggles and whispered words, the two went through the songbooks Lady Dominique had someone bring earlier. Finally, they picked a music to play together: Pachelbel’s “Canon in D major” to help Elizabeth warm up. Frustrated, she puffed whenever her fingers slipped and missed a key or she messed with the tempo.

“Don’t overthink,” Annabelle reassured her, “You’re doing fine.”

Next, Annabelle picked a Broadway songbook, one of Lady Dominique’s favourites, and they perused the sheets and deliberated about the songs.

“Seasons of Love”?

“I don’t know that one…”

Briar approached the piano and whispered a little too loud, “Beauty and the Beast”. Her suggestion was accepted, and both played and sang the lyrics to everyone utter enjoyment.

Their third song was “I dreamed a dream”. More confident, Elizabeth sang, while Annabelle played. Her angelic voice filled the room, who went completely silent. All eyes on her. Overjoyed, Earl Vincent stood up and clapped when they finished, and she could swear a tear escaped his eye.

Lastly, it was an improvised version of “Make you feel my love” to keep the Glee vibe and prompted Briar to stand closer to the piano and sing every word with them, despite being off key. At that point, Elizabeth couldn’t even remember why she was so worried about playing for them. Forty minutes after she sat at the bench, she was breathless and thirsty, but smiling. Annabelle didn’t miss the glint in her eyes.

“It wasn’t that dreadful, was it?” she asked with a knowing smirk.

Elizabeth snorted with laughter and said, “Who knew not playing to impress a lot of stiff nobles could be this fun?”

“Me! And I have been telling you this the entire time!” Annabelle nudged Elizabeth’s rib playfully, who giggled.

“Even if it had been dreadful,” Elizabeth said in an even lower tone, “seeing that look on his face would have been worth the trouble...”

Annabelle glanced at the spot the other was staring at and saw the Earl. His smile glowing with a mix of joy and pride.

“I haven’t seen him this happy in years,” Annabelle remarked, and Elizabeth’s eyes lingered on him. Unable to forget his earlier troubled expression and the meeting with Sinclaire, she wondered if he was truly happy or hiding something from her.

Noticing the attention of the young ladies on him, Earl Vincent smiled. “Are the artists still taking requests?”

“From you, sir, always,” Annabelle replied. “But first the artists need a break and refreshments.”

The two moved away from the piano, and Annabelle whispered, “I thought you decided to play for a different reason…”

“What do you mean?”

With a meaningful look, she signalled at Hamid, who was sitting with Mr. Sinclaire, but his gaze would often search Elizabeth. “I saw him begging you to play…” Annabelle said in a conspiratorial tone, while pouring water into two glasses.

“He encouraged me, of course, and so did Luke and Briar, but…” Elizabeth picked one of the glasses and stared at it for a moment. “That was not the reason why I played… I… I did it for myself. I haven’t played like this in so long… because I disliked what it meant: being the centre of attention, having people singling me out, judging me… and I forgot how music is something I truly love… my mom’s gift to me… and I should not let anyone stop me from enjoying it...”

“I’m truly happy you remembered that.” Annabelle raised her glass and they clincked.

“Thanks for helping me.”

Annabelle’s free arm pulled her to a hug.

After complimenting the pair for their performance, Lady Dominique retired to her room. Instead of following her example, the five friends decided it was time to join around the piano to sing improvised versions of old and new hits from the charts, butchering them in the most terrible and democratic fashion; however, no one complained. Not even Mr. Sinclaire, who cradled a whiskey tumbler, sitting in an armchair in one corner of the room with Edmund. The man smiled when Earl Vincent succumbed to the appeals and joined them for an extremely off key version of “Satisfaction”.

Later that same night

Elizabeth had changed to her pyjamas and was brushing her teeth when one sharp knock on the door interrupted the rituals before bed.

Again, her heart betrays her, wishing Hamid was on the other side. An idea that both excites and terrifies her. Why couldn’t she stop thinking about him like that? Especially now that there might be someone else in his life?

Once more, when she opens the door, wearing a black jumper and leggings instead of a dress is Briar. This time, she is not smiling either. The tip of her bright pink fluffy slipper scuffs the carpet in the hallway, while her lips turn into an exaggerated pout.

“I know it is late, but can we talk for a minute?”

Elizabeth nodded and ushered her inside.

“Did something happen?”

Briar plopped on the bed and sighed.

“Has your heart ever betrayed you, Lizzy?”

“What do you mean?”

“Arthur is the sweetest man I’ve ever met. He never ghosts me and texts every single day… He actually planted the flowers of that bouquet he gave me!”

“That’s lovely!” Elizabeth remarked, without knowing exactly where this conversation is going.

“It is… He would be the most perfect boyfriend; someone I could introduce to my mum… maybe even plan a future with…”

“That’s something good, right? May I ask why you look so upset?”

“Because my heart is bloody stupid! Or my cupid is testing me!” she growled, “I cannot stop thinking about someone else. Some stupid random mate I met. Well, he is not actually stupid. Or random. The other mate is quite dreamy too. A bit awkward. And nerdy. But we have meaningful conversations. And I think he sees me. Really sees me, you know?”

A knot settled on Elizabeth’s stomach when realisation dawned upon her. She knew exactly who this was about. Taking a deep breath, she asked the question that was merely rhetorical, “You are talking about Edmund, right?”

Briar growled again and let her body fall back. “He is not free to date me. I should be running the other way. But I don’t want to…” Her stare fixes at the ceiling and Elizabeth sits beside her, patting her arm.

“I thought it was just harmless flirtation… like you said…”

“I thought so too…” Briar’s hands covered her face, and what Elizabeth assumes is a string of curse words is muffled by her palms.

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed… I guess we don’t choose who we become fond of…”

“This is all so… Complicated... Once, he called me by mistake. At least that’s what he said… but he stuttered, you know, in that way the words tumble over when he cannot say what he means…” Elizabeth nodded, and she continued, “But I didn’t mind. Even if it was a little lie and he was not going to admit he wished to talk to me… I just asked him about his day. And we spent an hour talking about nothing and everything… we just talked. He’d call me every now and then ever since that evening… And now we don’t know what to do with these feelings.”

“We?”

“That engagement means nothing to him…”

“He told you that?”

“He’s not happy.”

“But he’s still engaged. And knowing Henrietta… well… she would never approve him breaking up the engagement unless the woman was wealthier and had better connections –”

“He’s an adult, Lizzy. He can make his own choices,” Briar’s words were firm, no sign of the usual warmth and sweetness, and Elizabeth suspected it was herself who needed to hear that, to believe in that.

Lying down, Elizabeth held her hand and offered an encouraging smile.

“Can I do anything to make you feel better?”

“You did. I just needed to talk to someone…” Briar smiled. “But I wouldn’t mind some distraction... maybe you can tell me nasty things about his fiancée, so I won’t feel like a terrible person...”

“You probably already know more about her than I do... And you’re not a terrible person.”

After a few moments of silence, Elizabeth peeked at Briar, eyes open wide and unusual pensiveness creasing her forehead.

“The answer is yes. My heart betrayed me too.”

“Are you admitting you love Hamid?”

“I do not love him. But I kinda like him. And I can’t stop thinking about him. And maybe I want to be with him. If he wants to be with me of course and not –”

“Ohmygod!” Briar squealed and threw herself at Elizabeth. “Finally!”

#desire and decorum fanfic #desire and decorum #choices fanfic #prince hamid #playchoices #playchoices fanfic #desire & decorum #oc: elizabeth foredale #briar daly #edmund marlcaster #earl of edgewater #dominique foredale #luke harper #mr. sinclaire #annabelle parsons

[calwrites]

Star Star Tours

Summary: You and Sebastian have been dating for a while now, but the public doesn’t know that yet. Keeping your secret causes some tension on James Corden’s Star Star Tours.

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x actress!reader

This is my first time writing for Marvel, so I hope people enjoy! It’s just something that I wrote really quick, but I love the bus tour video, and I thought this could be a cute story. Also, Sebastian was not in nearly enough of the disposable camera pictures.

It was no secret that press tours could be draining. Being stuck in a room for multiple days while people keep asking you the same questions over and over again even though they know that you can’t really answer them. And considering how big Infinity War is, it was no surprise that there were even more interviews than usual.

That was why you had been so excited when you had heard about James Corden’s bus tour. Getting to spend the day outside, surrounded by some of your costars, sounded like a vacation compared to being stuck in a chair all day. There was no doubt in your mind that it would be chaos. Of course, you would do you best to add to that chaos.

Still, as you glanced over at your boyfriend, you thought that maybe press tours weren’t all that bad. You and Sebastian had met while filming Civil War, but you hadn’t really talked much. Sebastian was pretty quiet, and you had worried that he found your loudness annoying, so you had focused on befriending your costars who seemed more receptive to your large personality.

It wasn’t until the press tour that you actually got to know Sebastian. You weren’t sure if you had been partnered with Sebastian and Anthony because someone thought Anthony might ease your nerves about your first Marvel press tour or if they hoped being stuck with two people as outgoing as you and Anthony might force Sebastian out of his shell. Either way, the three of you had been a hit that press tour. More importantly, Sebastian had asked you out shortly after Civil War premiered.

The two of you had been dating ever since. It had made interviews a bit difficult for both of you though. You had decided to keep your relationship private. In theory, you were going to go public after a few months, but the two of you had enjoyed having a part of your lives that was actually private. It was a surprise that no one had let it slip, considering both Tom Holland and Mark Ruffalo knew about the relationship. Still, it was hard ignoring dating rumors every time someone thought you must be with whatever costar you had smiled at that week.

“What are you thinking about?” Sebastian asked, glancing at you before looking back the road. He took one hand off the wheel and grabbed your hand, entwining your fingers.

“Nothing.” You knew that Sebastian wouldn’t buy it. Not when he had seen your goofy grin.

“Nothing? Wanna try again?”

“What if we went to the premiere together?” You kept your eyes on your hand, still entwined with Sebastian’s.

“Like together together?” Sebastian took his hand back so he could turn into the parking lot of the studio. You tried not to notice the slight frown that he wore as he thought about your idea.

“We don’t have to. It’s just that it’s been almost two years. I thought it could be a good time. Maybe everyone will be so focused on the movie that we wouldn’t be big news.” Sebastian didn’t answer as he parked. You could already see a producer rushing over to the car, no doubt to get your ready for the tour. “You don’t have to answer now. Let’s just enjoy the tour and we can talk about it later.”

Sebastian nodded in agreement and the two of you climbed out of the car and made your way over towards the bus.

After you got your mic and everything, you climbed up to the top of the bus, where James gave you a name tag after doing a little bit. Immediately, you rushed to the front row and took the seat next to Lizzie. The two of you had clicked immediately while filming Civil War, and she had been one of your best friends ever since. 

You noticed that Sebastian waited for a few more people to get on before he climbed on and took a seat at the back next to Winston. You tried not to read too much into the fact that he was sitting as far away from you as possible. It was possible, probable even, that he was keeping his distance just so neither of you slipped up on camera. It was a tactic you used quite often. But it was also possible that you had freaked him out when you proposed going public and now he was going to avoid you.

Shaking off the doubts in your head, you picked up the disposable camera that you had been given and started snapping pictures as everyone settled in. To your relief, Sebastian gave you a smile and a small wave when you pointed the camera at Paul and Letitia, catching him in the background. Before it could descend into total chaos, the bus began moving and the tour started.

You and Lizzie almost died laughing when Benedict had to put sunscreen on James’s legs, but he had a point. “Does anyone need face sunscreen?” you asked, waving the bottle of face sunscreen that you had thrown in your purse at the last minute. Very pointedly, you turned to Benedict and Hiddleston. “I’m looking at you two.”

“We get it, Y/N,” Anthony yelled from the back. “You’re a mom friend.” You stuck your tongue out in reply, mainly because flipping him off didn’t seem very TV friendly. Nevertheless, your sunscreen got passed around the bus. Paul tried to give it back to you without putting any on, claiming that he didn’t need any, which resulted in you and Lizzie basically wrestling him and putting it on his face yourselves. The laugh died in your throat as you began turning back to the front and caught sight of Sebastian’s grumpy face. You raised your eyebrows, but he looked away.

“What’s up with him?” Lizzie asked quietly. Apparently she had seen his expression too. You could only hope that no camera had caught it.

“Tell you later.” You tapped slightly on your mic and Lizzie nodded.

Luckily James began the tour before you could dwell on it any more. Between Don’s exaggerated pose when he took a picture of the coffee shop, getting into trouble with James for being “disruptive,” and the singalong, which you got way too into, you had almost forgotten about Sebastian’s stormy expression.

“This is actually Barbara Streisand’s holiday home,” James said, pointing at some strange, red building. “She actually designed it herself.”

“Is that true, Josh?” you called, spinning around so you could face him.

Josh shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

“Well what do you know? You’re just the bad guy. You’re just trying to cause trouble,” James complained.

“She’s his stepmom, so I think I trust him a bit more than you, James. Sorry.” You shrugged innocently at him before turning back around the air high five Josh. Again, as you were turning back to the front, you caught Sebastian’s eye. He was basically glaring at you.

“What?” you mouthed at him, which of course everyone behind you saw, causing them to turn to look at Sebastian too.

“Y/N, I am trying to give a tour, and you are being disruptive once again. I need eyes up front please.”

“But James,” you whined, huffing in your seat like a little kid, “Sebastian keeps looking at me. Tell him to stop.”

“Sebastian, I need all eyes on me, please. I am the reason you all paid to be here-”

“We have to pay for this?” Hiddleston asked, but James continued as if he hadn’t said anything.

“-so I need you to stop looking at Y/N and pay attention to me.”

“I didn’t even look at her. What am I not allowed to look around now?” Sebastian answered a bit too hotly. There was a brief moment where you could feel everyone look between the two of you, even James and Reggie, who had no idea why it was so strange that Sebastian had snapped like that.

“Geez, Mackie, control your man,” you joked, trying desperately to diffuse the tension.

“No way. Sebastian is not my man. He’s sitting with Winston, so he’s Winston’s problem today,” Mackie yelled back. Luckily, this caused Winston and Anthony to start bickering about who had to take care of Sebastian during the tour. Sebastian, of course, hated the attention and eventually agreed to behave and even gave you a very child-like “Sorry, Y/N.” You stuck your tongue out in response and turned back to give James your full attention.

You all continued the act of disconnected celebrities as James explained what waiting in line was. Hoping to get a better view of the “normal people,” you tried to stand on your chair like you were ogling some animal at the zoo, but almost immediately at least five different people were yelling at you to get down. Apparently it “wasn’t safe” to stand on top of chairs on top of a moving bus.

“Excuse me. I don’t mean to interrupt, but I have to use the bathroom. Can I use the bathroom?” You didn’t turn around this time, worried about seeing Sebastian staring at you again. Instead, you focused on the faux apologetic look on James’s face.

“I’m really sorry. The problem is that the rules on the tour is that you have to have appeared in three or more Marvel movies to use the bathroom. End credits scenes don’t count. Y/N, do you have to use the bathroom?”

“I haven’t been in three movies,” you pointed out.

“That’s right, you haven’t. So I hope you don’t have to use the bathroom. Tom Hiddleston, do you need to use the bathroom?”

“I’m actually okay.”

“Oh, so sorry Y/N. Sorry Josh. Maybe you should ask your stepmom Barbra Streisand if you can use the bathroom at her holiday home.”

“I don’t even have to go,” you protested as Lizzie died laughing next to you.

“Well that’s good because you can’t. Now, does anyone die in the next Avengers?”

The bus was quiet as you all looked at each other. Finally, Paul yelled, “Snitches end up in ditches!”

“I thought they got stitches first,” you whispered to Lizzie.

“Apparently Paul is skipping that part,” she replied. The two of you gave each other a look before dissolving into giggles at the thought of Paul actually throwing someone in a ditch.

The tour continued with more of James’s jokes before he had the bus pull over at a comic shop. A part of you was nervous to go inside. While most of the fans that you had met were nice, you knew that there were still a lot of comic fans who didn’t like your character, or how you played your character, or that you had been cast, or whatever. You gave Lizzie’s hand a nervous squeeze, which she returned, but really you wanted to be holding Sebastian’s hand. You were each other’s biggest supporter. Whenever one of you was feeling nervous, the other was normally right there to offer support.

But instead, you walked in separately.

Luckily, everyone seemed too starstruck to gripe about anything. It ended up being a pretty nice time. You signed some comics and chatted to some fans. One girl even told you about a tattoo dedicated to your character that she was going to get. You almost had a heart attack when she asked you to write down her favorite line of yours, so that she could add that to the tattoo. Afterwards, Mackie had teased you about how much your hand was shaking when you were writing it. It looked like Sebastian was about to say something, but then a camera was suddenly in your face and he disappeared to the other side of the store.

After buying a couple of comics for yourself, you and Lizzie found yourselves in the corner of the store playing with a Scarlet Witch doll that you had bought for her. You didn’t notice when she looked up with a small frown on her face, but you did feel the hand that came to rest on your waist. You looked around quickly, making sure that no cameras were on you, before meeting Sebastian’s eyes.

“What are you doing, Seb?” you whispered. Without you realizing, Lizzie snuck away to give the two of you some privacy. Or as much privacy as you can get when you’re wearing a mic and possibly being filmed.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry about earlier. I guess I just got kind of jealous and I snapped a little.”

“Jealous?” You put your hand on Sebastian’s arm to keep him in place when you felt him begin to back away. “Jealous about what, Sebastian?”

“I don’t know.” He waved his hand around a bit at the rest of the group. “Just seeing your hands all over Paul and joking around with everyone around you.”

“Lizzie and I were forcibly putting sunscreen on Paul. I did that to you before we left the house this morning. I don’t think you have anything to be jealous about.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him.

“Sometimes it just feels like you always have everyone’s attention and you’re joking around with all of them and you never pay attention to me.” You pressed your lips together to keep from laughing at the adorable pout on Sebastian’s face. “And I know that we kind of have to ignore each other sometimes because we don’t want people to know about us, but I just always wish that I could be joking around with you too. I have so much fun talking to you and being around you, and seeing other people having fun around you when I can’t is just annoying sometimes. It’s like I always want to be right next to you.”

You placed a gentle hand on Sebastian’s cheek, making him meet your eyes. “I always want to be next to you too. And most of the time when I’m joking around with other people, I’m wishing that you were there too. But right now, we should get back to the others. It’ll be a miracle if we haven’t been caught on camera.”

“Oh I asked Anthony to make sure that no one would be paying attention to this side of the store.”

“Is that why he’s been yelling for the past few minutes?”

“He’s the best choice for a distraction, unfortunately.” You grinned at Sebastian as you wrapped your arms around him. Smiling back, he planted a quick kiss on your forehead.

“That’s way too bold,” you scolded him. Still, you couldn’t help but laugh. “There’s no way we would be able to explain that away if anyone saw. Way too many questions.”

You began to walk away, but Sebastian pulled you back to him. “Let them ask questions. The premiere is soon and they’ll have their answers then.”

“Oh they will?” You raised your eyebrows in mock confusion.

“Of course. When we go together. How does that sound?”

“Sounds like a date.” The two of you smiled at each other and were about to lean in for a kiss when Anthony was suddenly pulling Sebastian away.

“Break it up, lovebirds. I thought I was providing a distraction so you two could make up, not so you could make out. Now come on, Sebastian. We need to take a picture with that Spiderman statue outside.” 

Sebastian gave you a shrug as Anthony dragged him outside. You rolled your eyes at their antics, then followed the rest of the cast as they began to make their way outside and back to the bus. You had stopped to admire Benedict’s drawing skills when Lizzie was suddenly clutching your arm and squealing. She, of course, had seen everything, though she assured you that everyone had tried their best to be as entertaining as possible on the other side of the store, so that no cameras would be on you.

You wore a smile for the rest of the tour. Lizzie kept teasing you every time you and Sebastian would sneak glances at each other. Not that you could really sneak glances when you had to turn around constantly to look at him. Once again, you got way too into the singalong. This time, Sebastian yelled encouragement at you as you sang off key.

By the time you reached the studio again, you had decided that this was really the best way to do a press tour. You waved goodbye to James and Hemsworth and you climbed off the bus. Before you could take more than a few steps, Sebastian had picked you up and was spinning you around.

“How have you two not spilled the beans yet?” Paul asked as everyone watched in amusement.

“You weren’t even being subtle at the comic shop,” Benedict pointed out.

“Y’all are lucky that the cameras love me so much that they weren’t looking at you,” Mackie joked.

Apparently, the cameras didn’t love Mackie as much as he thought. When the video came out, some eagle eyed fans spotted the two of you looking cozy in the background of a shot. Some people argued that it was impossible to say for certain that it was you and Sebastian, but your Twitter and Instagram notifications were full of people asking if you and Sebastian were dating.

The two of you decided to ignore the questions. Lucky for you, Marvel made it very clear to all of the interviewers that there should be no questions about anyone’s personal lives. All focus was to be on the movie. So you kept the fans guessing until the two of you showed up to the premiere arm in arm.

Unfortunately, there were plenty of people more focused on your relationship than on the movie, so there were plenty of articles about the two of you. Apparently, you were Marvel’s new power couple. As long as you had Sebastian, that was a title you could live with.

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