#level of concern lyrics

[waugh-bao]

*

#I’ve been thinking about something a friend said in regards to the lyrics for ‘Angry’ #because I was having a hard time putting my finger on why I disliked it other than the drumming #the ‘We haven't made love and I wanna know why’ bit played #and she said ‘that’s what you get for dating a 36 year old when you’re 80’ #(she also pointed out that the vocals don’t even sound like mick. which is true. the song is grossly over produced) #my point isn’t so much this specific thing with mick #as that he’s been writing songs along these lines for 60 years #and at this point it feels like we’re getting 100% misogyny and 5% creativity #it’s all bitching and moaning about being wronged by a woman and denied access to her body #I don’t really care if they’re ‘problematic’ in their lyrics to some extent or another. they’re old rockstars #but there’s nothing special or creative or even metaphorical going on #it’s like a lazy version of ‘bitch’ #I’m kind of concerned if this is the pre-released single. that it’s the best they’ve got. because it isn’t very good #((also heard mick mention in an interview not long ago that Tattoo You is one of his favorite albums. which makes the decision to trash #everything recorded before 2019 especially dumb. because that album was cobbled together from old songs and recordings. many made way before #1981. they’re almost acting like this is a change on the level of darryl. which is blatantly dumb. there isn’t 30 years left. in terms of #time or creative output))

[bandsanitizer]

5sos & the emotional waltzes

#5sos #memesos #alison speaks? #no really tho #we’re taking wfttwtaf levels of reflection times 4 plus catharsis #plus calum lyrics and michael production and ashton drums and luke vocals #and andy on art and i’m just ???? not supposed to be concerned #about the album’s 3/4 track that could be coming at any moment #oh shit you’re really joking at a time like this

[demadogs]

what are some other songs about covid or related to the effects the lockdown had on the artist? i find it so interesting listening to them. the ones i can think of off the top of my head are choreomania and my love by florence and the machine, epiphany by taylor swift, and bummerland by ajr but i know theres more

#the best ones are the ones that i dont realize are about covid until i really look into the lyrics #hence why florence’s are the best #dont say level of concern that was bad #florence and the machine #taylor swift

[kotias]

Ineffable Rockstars

Time to properly become creatively feral about the Ineffable Rockstars project with @vavoom-sorted-art, @searchingforakeythatdoesntexist , @daneecastle, @moonyinpisces and Stitcherydoo!

Summary of the story: human!AU, Crowley and Aziraphale are rockstars in their respective groups, Celestial Harmonies and Hell's Rebuke. Word is out that those two groups have bad history together, and therefore the two of them, while shamelessly talking to each other any festival they get to meet at, do have to be careful about being seen together by their own bands.

Summary of this excerpt: Aziraphale explains the story of the two bands to Crowley, who has arrived after everything went down and was kept in the dark by his mates.

Lyrics: written for the purpose of this fic.

Word count of the excerpt: 872 words

Excerpt:

Crowley sat down next to Aziraphale, whose eyes laid probably a second too long on those long fingers, on this chest showing so proudly from behind his open shirt- He coughed and drank a large gulp from the flute, clutching at the glass like a lifeline.

“It’s- it’s alright. Are you feeling comfortable? How was the concert?”

“Hah, acting like I didn’t see you in the audience, are ya?” Crowley asked with a smirk, and Aziraphale looked away, feeling the heat building up on his face.

“Well, we do need to keep it silent, don’t we?” he answered nonetheless with a coy smile, sipping on his drink.

“Why, though? It’s completely beyond me; Bee recruited me right after the split between Celestial Harmonies and Hell’s Rebuke, but there’s always been… you know, a feeling that it didn’t happen for no reason.”

“They haven’t explained it to you?” Crowley shook his head, and Aziraphale sighed. “No wonder you’re lost. Well, to put it simply… Hell’s Rebuke’s members were part of Celestial Harmonies, a few years ago.”

“Yes, I know that-”

“Let me talk, please; I would like to make sure we work with the same information.”

As he began explaining the official history of the two bands, he was cut by a thunder of clapping as the concert was coming to an end, and he and his counterpart felt compelled to stand up and join the applause.

When you reached Summer,

You lost sight of the star lights,

Questions died in your throat,

Cursing a future that is naught

And the night falling upon you

Left you laying awake with open eyes.

After two encore songs and enough clapping to make their hands and wrists sore, Crowley and Aziraphale walked towards another scene and stayed in relative distance, ensuring that they would hear each other. “So, you were saying, Hell’s Rebuke and Celestial Harmonies.”

“Ah! Yes; so, this is fairly public knowledge.” Crowley nodded impatiently. “At least, it is not something that we are actively hiding, neither of the two groups; somebody who knows how to Google us would be able to find this information.” Aziraphale frowned, crossing his arms. “Honestly, that is why it concerns me a little that you have not been informed of this; it is a fairly common question that people are trying out on us, asking about the other group to see how we react. Anyways-”

The vendors just a few metres from them had started cooking a few crepes, and Crowley did not miss the eyes darting towards them. “Want some? C’me on, it’s my treat,” he insisted as Aziraphale’s eyebrows raised -and it was obvious that he wasn’t going to refuse such an offer.

“Well, if you insist,” he answered, the corners of his lips curling up and his eyelashes fluttering; Crowley’s heart missed a beat, his fingers pressed against his flute, and he barely managed to keep a groan from reaching out of his mouth.

“You do have to tell me more, though; ‘specially if you think my ignorance could bite me in the ass.”

“Yes, of course.” Aziraphale’s voice dropped as they reached the line, keeping it to the level of a private conversation. “Bee and Gabriel were… an item.”

“Oh, excellent start. If that’s only the beginning, I might have to stock up on popcorn with that crepe of yours.”

“Heh, well, it might be one of the more interesting aspects of this entire story, so do not keep your expectations too high.”

“No, no, don't kill my hopes, now. Go on, tell me everything, I’m sure it will be full of riveting details, Bee’s never been good at keeping things tidy anyways.”

Aziraphale groaned. “Oh, you should see Gabriel when he gets involved… Ah- one crepe with sugar, thank you,” he said with a bright smile to the vendor. “Alright, so- long story short, the band was originally founded by the two of them; excellent musicians those two are, and the band did have quite the promising future before it. We started having a fairly good reputation.”

“Black coffee and a serving of fries. The name’s been around for a while now, that’s right- I remember seeing it ten years ago on some festival announcements in my city. Cash, thanks.”

“We have, yes. We were very local for a long while, but…”

“What changed?”

“Gabriel and the others were wishing to go professional; Bee and who are now Hell’s Rebuke were not willing to do that.”

“Ah, I see. Well, they didn't change much in that aspect,” Crowley mumbled sourly, extending his arms to grab the crepe and coffee. He gave the dessert over, then took his serving of fries, and they left the vendor’s stand. “Wait, where did you stand? You stayed with Celestial Harmonies, after all.”

“Hm, well…”

That did not sound like somebody who was fully happy to have stayed, Crowley thought, and he crept closer to Aziraphale, nudging him with his elbow. “Come on, spill the beans! Honestly, I’m looking to go in that direction, if there’s anything I should be aware of…”

“Being professional was, and still is, something that I hold dear,” Aziraphale explained, his slow speech feeling heavy, like he was choosing every word carefully.

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #ineffable rockstars #human AU #fanfiction

[charlesslut16]

-He's sick-

summary : Sebastian is sick and you and yourk kids do everythingf you can to help him recover...

PAIRING : sebastian vettel x fem!reader

WARNINGS : none

note : i hope that you like this!

december masterlist ; masterlist   

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ You woke up to the sound of gentle sniffles coming from your husband, Sebastian's, side of your shared bed. The soft morning light filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow on his face as he stirred restlessly.

He was clearly not feeling well, and it was evident from the way he shifted uncomfortably under the blankets. Either he threw them away, because he was hot or the other way around, he held the blanket to him, as he was cold.

"Seb, my darling, are you okay?" you murmured concerned, reaching out to feel his forehead. It was warm, not alarmingly so, but enough to confirm that he had definitely caught a sickness bug.

Sebastian's voice was hoarse as he responded, "I think I've got a little bug, my love, nothing major."

Your heart went out to him. He rarely felt ill, but when he did, it was like the world had turned upside down. Today was supposed to be a relaxed day with the kids, full of fun and activities.

But plans needed to change now, and you were determined to make it as comfortable for him as possible. He needed to recover swiftly, because you hated when he felt off.

"Okay, my love, don't worry. I'll take care of everything," you assured him, gently kissing his forehead before slipping out of bed. Today was his day to do absolutely nothing but relax.

First things first: a comforting and tasteful breakfast for your loving but ill husband. You prepared a pot of steaming hot tea, a bowl of chicken soup, and some toast.

The aroma wafted through the whole house, and even though Sebastian's appetite was subdued through his sickness, he managed a few sips of tea and a spoonful of soup.

Meanwhile, the kids, full of boundless energy, burst into the room with wide eyes and curious expressions. They were confused that Daddy wasn't there in the morning to wake them up.

"Is Daddy sick?" your youngest asked, concern etched on their little face.

You nodded, crouching down to their level.

"Yes, sweetheart, Daddy's not feeling well today. We need to make sure he gets lots of rest and feels better soon, so we can play and have lots of fun as we had planned, okay?"

Their little heads bobbed in agreement to your statement, and with that, the mission to cheer up Daddy began. The whole day would be devoted to helping daddy feel better.

Throughout the day, the house was transformed into a makeshift haven of love and care. The kids gather their toys and books, setting up a cozy nest beside the bed.

They brought their favorite stuffed animals to keep Sebastian company and insisted on reading stories aloud, their voices a melodic chorus that filled the room.

You brewed more tea for your husband, bringing it in a cheerful mug with a bright smile. Even if you didn't want to admit it, secretly you loved taking care of Sebastian.

"Honey, I made you some herbal tea. It'll help soothe your throat."

Sebastian's lips curled into a weak smile, touched by the thoughtful gesture. "Thank you, love."

The day unfolds with a blend of tender moments and laughter. The kids created handmade "Get Well Soon" cards, decorating them with colorful drawings and heartfelt messages. They sang songs, trying to make up lyrics that would magically cure Daddy's sickness.

As evening approached, you prepared a simple yet nourishing dinner. Nothing fancy, just comforting food that might entice Sebastian's appetite. He managed to eat a little, and though his spirits were low, the love and care surrounding him uplifted his mood.

Before bedtime, you gathered the kids around for a family hug. "Let's send Daddy lots of healing hugs and positive thoughts so he feels better tomorrow," you suggested, and the kids nodded enthusiastically, wrapping their little arms around Sebastian.

As the day winded down and the kids drifted off to sleep, you tucked them in, whispering promises of a brighter tomorrow. Turning to Sebastian, you saw him looking at you with gratitude shining in his tired eyes.

"You're amazing, you know that?" he whispered, his voice still raspy.

"It's what we do for our loved ones," you replied softly, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "You just focus on getting better, okay?"

And as the night settled in, you lied beside Sebastian, holding his hand as he drifted into a peaceful slumber, surrounded by the love of his family. Tomorrow would bring a new day, hopefully, one where the sickness bug had bid adieu, leaving behind memories of a day filled with love, laughter, and unwavering support.

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fluff #formula one #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel fanfic #sebastian vettel imagine #sebastian vettel x reader #masterlist #christmas

[emjayewrites]

Private Landing (Lewis Hamilton Fanfic)(2/?)

SUMMARY: In the high-speed world of Formula One, Lewis Hamilton subtly introduces a mysterious partner via Instagram after a slight mishap during an interview. Sparking media intrigue, everyone wants to know: who is the enigmatic figure that calls herself Mrs. Hamilton?

INSPO: this post

PAIRINGS: Sir Lewis Hamilton x Aurora "Rorie" Phillips-Hamilton (faceclaim is Justine Skye)

WARNINGS: drama, angst, sexual content, formula one b.s., pre-established relationship (with flashbacks). RATED M (18+)

TAGLIST: @queenshikongo3 @cocobutterqwueen @httpsserene @mauvecherie-writes @galatially @pausmoon @a-moment-captured @nikki01234 @yeea-nah @sirlew44 @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @weetjy @lewisroscoelove @hxneyclouds @questionable-behaviour @marzzrambles @lovebittenbyevans @tian-monique @alika-4466 @saintslewis @cherry2stems @mitruscity @burberryfilms @planetmimi @woderfulkawaii @d3kstar @liamundi @trinitoldyouso @scorpiobleue @pharaohanubis0 @certifiedlesbianbaddie

A/N: A few things is changed in order to help with the flow of the story (i.e. having haute couture week happening during the week of June 19th, etc.) Please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist. The headers/dividers are by @inklore

CHAPTER 2: Rorie's World

Rorie was swift with delivering Penni, and perhaps even the world, what they wanted. Lewis hovered close by as she sifted through her Instagram account, selectively archiving photos with their son's face before switching it over to a public account.

Lewis couldn't help but feel a sense of pride as he looked at his wife, admiring the way her curves seemed to fit perfectly in all the right places: slender waist and widened hips that rounded out to a pert ass, all of which had become gifts after giving birth to their child, along with her full breasts that he loved to hold in his hands.

He couldn't help but feel proud and a little smug knowing that she was quite the catch; he knew she would cause quite a stir once the world got to know her.

Despite his initial concerns, Rorie's demeanor had noticeably changed. At first, it was subtle - her shoulders relaxed, her posture improved - but then as more followers and comments flooded her feed, a small smile began to appear at the corner of her mouth. It was a glimpse of that wild, unpredictable side that had initially attracted him to her all those years ago, the spark that made her a force to be reckoned with.

When they first met at a bar in New York City, she was a sharp-tongued, no-nonsense data analyst on Wall Street who had him wrapped around her finger by the end of the night. Lewis understood and admired her directness because he could relate on many levels, but he also discovered a softer side to Rorie when she talked about her interests and dreams.

Lately, however, ever since becoming a mother and throwing herself into their joint charitable foundation, Mission 44, her focus had shifted. She had become consumed by their son's well-being, pouring all her energy into nurturing him.

Don't get him wrong, Lewis adored the way Rorie doted on their son, Lyric. Seeing her gently cradle their child, singing lullabies in her melodious voice, was a sight that melted his heart every time. But he couldn't shake the lingering desire for her to rekindle the fire within herself - to dive back into her passions of music and fashion that once captivated her every thought.

There was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind, but he couldn't deny how amazing she was. He wanted to keep her all to himself, yet he also knew that her sense for both fashion and music needed to be shared with the world. Despite the unconventional approach, Lewis felt a sense of excitement brewing inside him for it all.

There was one thing that could not be doubted: Aurora Isis Phillips-Hamilton was that girl, and she needed her praises and recognition as soon as possible.

"Done," she said with a long exhale and placing her phone on the kitchen island. Running a hand through her braids, she looked like the epitome of stress as she began to pace back and forth across the hardwood floors.

Lewis watched her silently for a moment before calling out to her in a soft voice. "Baby..." Rorie was lost in thought and didn't respond. He tried again, using the nickname he gave her when they first started dating, "Aurora Borealis."

Rorie's head whipped over to him and she scowled. "Don't start with your shit, Carl," she snapped, using his middle name in return.

Lewis chuckled, knowing that nickname always got under her skin. "My bad, but I had to get your attention somehow." He raised his hands in mock surrender and took on a more serious tone. "Tell me what's worrying you. If you worried about them accepting you or not, let me—"

"It's not that," Rorie replied with an annoyed eye roll. She couldn't care less about public acceptance; all she wanted was to navigate this new situation successfully. Being in the public eye would disrupt her routine, which mostly revolved around being a mother to Lyric and supporting her husband. "I just don't know how to handle all of this."

Lewis could see the defeat and uncertainty in Rorie's eyes, and it broke his heart. He walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her protectively, placing a reassuring kiss on her temple. "Just be yourself, Rorie." She scoffed at his words. "No, seriously. Be the amazing woman you are. You're already incredible as a mum and leading Mission 44, but I want to see you on magazine covers and runways..."

"...headlining concerts and winning awards," Rorie finished for him with a teasing smirk, having heard this mantra from him countless times over the past five years.

"Yes, exactly," affirmed Lewis as he held her tighter. "The world needs to know your brilliance. Do you know how guilty I feel for keeping you cooped up in this penthouse, not sharing your genius with the world?"

She couldn't help but let out a disbelieving noise. "Funny how you're saying this now, but just wait until all these thirsty ass men flood my DMs."

A menacing glare crossed Lewis' face, a vein popping on his neck at the mere thought of some random man hopping in her DMs. "Don't play with me, Rorie, y'know I kill a nigga over you."

She studied him closely, incredulity written all over her face. He was a bit taller than her 5'4 frame, but she still couldn't imagine him as a killer. "Whatever you say, Pookie."

Her choice of endearment made him roll his eyes, but he couldn't help but smile at her playfulness. It was yet another thing he loved about her; she always knew how to make him laugh even in the most serious situations. But his smile quickly faded as the weight of their conversation settled on him once again. He knew Rorie was struggling with the idea of being in the public eye, and it hurt him to see her doubt herself.

"Listen, Rorie," he began, looking into her eyes with sincerity. "I know this is all new to you and it can be overwhelming. But I promise you, I will be by your side every step of the way."

Rorie's expression softened at his words, feeling grateful for his unwavering support. She leaned into him, resting her head against his chest as he continued.

"You are strong and talented and beautiful," Lewis said, placing a kiss on top of her head. "You have nothing to be afraid of."

Lewis always had a way of making her feel better whenever she was feeling down. They had been through so much together over the years and their bond only grew stronger each day.

Just then, Lyric's cries could be heard from down the hall. Rorie quickly pulled away from Lewis' embrace and headed towards their son's room. As she rocked Lyric back and forth, Rorie thought about the past five years. Despite the ups and downs of their relationship, she never imagined a life without Lewis by her side.

Almost two weeks later.....

Rorie broke the internet...figuratively, of course.

In the span of one week, she amassed a following of over four million and attracted support from a swarm of people. Famous individuals, media conglomerates, and fashion brands all wanted a piece of her, flooding her DMs with invitations to events, photo shoots, interviews, you name it.

Rorie was grateful for the opportunities that were coming her way, but it was also overwhelming. Despite being physically distant in Montreal, Lewis continued to support her and be her biggest advocate. With Penni’s help, Rorie had assembled a small yet highly effective management team consisting of Yael Quint, a specialist in brand and image consulting; Ro Morgan, a skilled hairstylist; and Fanny Maurer, an expert makeup artist. Together, they were gearing up to face their first challenge: the highly-anticipated Paris Fashion Week.

Amidst all the chaos, Lyric remained her top priority.Lewis had been away competing in the Canadian Grand Prix and he checked on her and Lyric through daily FaceTime calls. On the third day of Lewis' absence, he called late in the evening before he had to head off to qualifying session for the upcoming race.

"Hey beautiful," he said as soon as Rorie answered his call.

"Hey handsome," she replied with a smile.

"How are my two favorite people doing?" Lewis asked.

"We're good," Rorie said, gently swaying back and forth, holding Lyric in her arms. Her son had finally fallen into a peaceful slumber, sucking his thumb as he dozed off after throwing a fit.

"Has he been giving you a hard time?" Lewis joked.

Rorie chuckled, "Just a little. But it's nothing I can't handle."

"I know you can," Lewis said with pride in his voice. "I wish I could be there to help."

"I wish you were here too," Rorie admitted, feeling a pang of loneliness.

"Just a few more days and I'll be back," Lewis reassured her. "But hey, enough about me. How's everything going at your end?"

Rorie sighed, "It's been hectic but exciting. We have some big plans lined up for Paris Fashion Week."

"That's amazing! I'm so proud of you, baby," Lewis exclaimed. "To be honest, I was trying to have you join me at Pharrell's show, but I see you doing big things by yourself. I see you don't need me anymore, huh?"

She kissed her teeth at his teasing tone and pouty face. "Boy, bye. You know that's not true."

"Mmmhmm," he continued with a raised eyebrow and a hint of disbelief in his tone. "You say that now." After clearing his throat, his expression softened as he spoke again."For real, I am proud of you. What shows are you going to?"

"Mugler, Jean Paul Gaultier, and Balenciaga," she listed off quickly, eliciting a cheesy grin from Lewis.

"Some of your favorites," he acknowledged and she nodded in agreement. "Don't forget Rick Owens too; I'm planning to take you with me to one of his showrooms so we can see him and his wife in action."

"I can't wait," she said, a grin spreading across her face.

"Me neither," Lewis said with a smile that reached his eyes. "Just make sure to save some energy for Mummy/Daddy time when I get back."

His words were blunt, but there was also suggestive twinkle in his eye.

Rorie let out a soft gasp and scolded him, placing a hand over their sleeping son's ear. "Lewis, you can't say those things around him," she chided. "He's literally sleeping on my chest right now."

But Lewis couldn't resist teasing her, leering at her slightly exposed breasts with a smirk. "Shit, that's where I'm trying to be at the moment," he joked. "Plus, he's knocked out. He doesn't even know what's going on."

Lyric was indeed in a deep sleep, snoring softly. But Rorie couldn't let it slide.

"It's the principle," she shrugged off nonchalantly. "You can't be saying that."

Undeterred, Lewis continued with his flirtatious banter. "I mean, what do you want me to do? Lie? You look sexy as fuck right now, and I'm just a squirrel trying to get a n—"

"That's enough, Sir," interrupted Rorie with a glare, only fueling her husband's teasing.

His eyes darkened at her words and a groan escaped his lips. "Baby, you know I like being called that."

"Oh my goodness, I'm gonna hang up," threatened Rorie, her finger hovering over the end button. "I can't believe your so horny on main."

Lewis laughed at Rorie's threat, his dimples deepening as he playfully pouted. "Come on, babe. Don't hang up on me," he pleaded in a mock-whiny tone. "I miss you and I can't help it if my mind is always on you."

Rorie rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress the smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Even after years of marriage, Lewis never failed to make her feel desired.

"Fine," she relented, pretending to give in with a sigh. "But keep it PG-rated, okay? Our son's still here."

"You got it," Lewis said, sending her a wink through the screen before sitting up straighter in his seat. "So what else is going on? Have there been any discussions about collaborations or endorsements?"

"Endorsing who?" Rorie nervously giggled. "Let's just focus on Paris Fashion Week for now, we can worry about endorsements later. I have no idea about any of that."

"I don't know," Lewis said, "maybe Dior, Swarovski? Or even Tommy Hilfiger?"

"If you want me to join in on a campaign with you, just ask," she mumbled, partly in jest.

"Alright," Lewis replied, way too calmly for her liking. "Join me on a Tommy Hilfiger campaign."

Rorie couldn't believe her ears. She had always dreamt of working with a major fashion brand like Tommy Hilfiger, and now her husband was suggesting it as a possibility.

"Be so fucking for real right now. Are you serious?" she asked, her eyes widening in excitement.

"I'm so for real," Lewis confirmed with a nod. "Tommy's been looking for a new face to represent their brand. I'll mention you to him and see if he's interested."

Rorie's heart raced with anticipation. This would be insane and the fact that she could be doing it alongside her husband only made it more special.

"Thank you so much, Lewis," Rorie gushed, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

"You don't have to thank me," Lewis said with a smile, his love for her shining through his words. "I'll do anything to see you succeed."

Rorie felt overwhelmed with emotion as she leaned closer towards the screen, wishing she could wrap him in a tight hug.

Just then, they heard a soft whimper from their son and both turned their attention towards him. Rorie gently rocked him back and forth until he settled down again.

"I miss you guys so much," Lewis said wistfully, his eyes lingering on his family before turning back to Rorie's face on the screen.

"We miss you too," Rorie replied softly, feeling a surge of longing for her husband.

"This distance sucks dick," Lewis murmured before quickly shaking his head. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

"I know what you meant," Rorie assured him with a small smile. They both knew how hard long distance relationships were, but they were determined to make it work until they could be together again. "You have two days then we're together in Paris. Two days will go by so fast, Pookie."

"I know," he said with a hint of sadness,"but I can't help missing you guys." He glanced at the time on his phone. "I have to go to the track now, but I'll text you later. I love you."

"Love you too," Rorie replied before blowing him a kiss. Lewis caught it and placed it against his heart before ending their call.

Two days later, Rorie arrived in the romantic City of Love with Lewis by her side. She had been to Paris countless times before with him, friends, and even family, but she knew this trip would be different. It was her first time attending Paris Fashion Week and the city was bustling with people. The next few days would be a whirlwind of fashion shows, meetings with designers, and indulgent dinners at some of the city's most charming restaurants.

Rorie clung to Lewis like a lifeline, knowing she would need all the support she could get to survive it all. As they made their way to their hotel, she silently hoped that no one would discover she was there with her husband until she was ready to reveal it herself. With their son safely back home in Monaco with Nina, the couple finally had some time alone - and he intended to make every moment count.

It had been nearly two weeks since he last felt her touch, and there was only so much pleasure a man can get with his right hand. His mind was filled with fantasies of bending her in every position imaginable on any surface available and he wouldn't be surprised if she ended up pregnant by the end of their time in Paris.

The Mandarin Oriental Hotel sat majestically at the heart of Paris and was the perfect backdrop of a luxurious ambiance. The faint scent of fresh flowers and expensive perfume lingered as the couple headed inside the lobby.

They checked into their suite with sweeping views of the city's iconic landmarks. As soon as they entered the room, Lewis pinned Rorie against the door and claimed her lips in a passionate kiss.

"I've been waiting for this moment for so long," he said breathlessly after breaking the kiss.

Rorie smiled against his lips. "Me too."

Lewis and Rorie shed their clothes one by one, revealing their naked bodies to each other. He effortlessly lifted her up and carried her to the bed, where he worshiped every inch of her skin with his lips and tongue. Lewis knelt before her, his tongue lapping up her essence as his fingers explored her depths. With expert precision, his mouth found her clit and Rorie couldn't help but moan in pleasure.

“You want me to fuck you, baby?” His rough voice sent shivers through her as she eagerly nodded. "Use your words," he commanded.

"Yes..." she whimpered, arching her back.

"Good girl," he growled before diving back in with even more passion. "You taste so damn delicious."

“Mmmhmm,” was her reply and Lewis let out a hearty chuckle, which reverberated against her flesh.

His dick throbbed and pre-cum dripped from the tip as he stared eagerly at her. Using his saliva as lubrication, he slid easily into her waiting heat. Lewis spread her legs wide, pushing them up until her ankles were by her ears. Their harmonized moans filled the room as he took her with unbridled fervor. The sound of their bodies coming together and Rorie's melodic cries bounced off the walls. She tightened around him with each thrust, milking him for all he could give. Lewis' balls smacked against her rhythmically as he went deeper inside of her.

Rorie screamed in ecstasy, holding him tightly and dragging her nails down his back. He loved how she looked when she scrunched up her face in pleasure, how she called out his name like a sweet tune.

"Daddy! Yes...oh my God! Fuck me! Yes!"

Rorie couldn't believe how amazing Lewis felt inside of her, as if he was made to fit perfectly between her thighs.

Her moans grew louder, urging him on even more. She could feel his cock throbbing inside of her, signaling that he was close.

"Come for me, baby," Lewis groaned in her ear. "I want to feel you come around me."

With a final thrust, Rorie screamed out his name as waves of pleasure crashed over her. She clenched tightly around him as he spilled himself inside of her with a primal roar.

They collapsed onto the bed, their bodies tangled together as they rode out their climax. Lewis nuzzled his face into her neck, peppering kisses along her skin.

"I love you," he whispered against her skin.

"I love you too," Rorie replied, running her fingers through his hair.

Rorie's heart raced in her chest as she made her way through the crowded streets of Paris. Everywhere she turned, there were flashing lights and shouting voices, all vying for a glimpse of her.

"RORIE! OVER HERE!" The paparazzi called out as she arrived at the Mugler show during Paris Fashion Week.

With her head held up high, she gracefully walked down the red carpet, pausing every so often to strike a pose for the photographers. The chaos and excitement fueled her adrenaline, making her feel alive with every step she took. She could feel all eyes on her, and for a moment, she allowed herself to bask in the attention.

Yael's words from earlier echoed in her mind. Inhale, exhale, smile.

Rorie took a deep breath and focused on keeping a serene expression on her face as cameras continued to flash around her.

She couldn't help but think about how far she had come from being the unknown wife of Lewis Hamilton to being invited to attend one of the biggest fashion shows in one of the most iconic cities in the world. It was surreal but also incredibly fulfilling.

She greeted a few attendees as she entered the venue, making her way to her assigned front-row seat. She engaged in light conversation with the people around her, actively avoiding the paparazzi lurking on the sidelines.

The lights soon dimmed and the runway lit up with a spotlight and the models walked down the runway with fierce confidence, showcasing pieces from Mugler's latest collection. Rorie couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and inspiration as she watched each outfit pass by. As one of Mugler's biggest fans, Rorie felt honored to be sitting in the front row and experiencing the show firsthand.

Once the final model made her way down the runway, Rorie clapped along with the rest of the audience as the head designer appeared on stage for the final bow. The collection was breathtaking, with bold silhouettes and intricate details that captured the essence of Mugler perfectly.

After the show, Rorie joined the other attendees at the after-party. She mingled with fellow models and fashion industry insiders, exchanging compliments and light banter.

Rorie turned to see Yael approaching her with a glass of champagne in hand. Despite her cool and composed demeanor, she couldn't help but feel excited at the thought of potential opportunities coming her way.

"So, how did it feel to be sitting front row at Mugler?" Yael asked with a knowing grin.

"It was incredible. I still can't believe I'm here," Rorie replied, taking a sip of her champagne.

"Well, believe it because you deserve it," Yael said earnestly. "Everyone is freaking out. My emails are going batshit crazy with people trying to work with you."

Rorie's eyes widened in surprise. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. The possibility of working with big names in the industry was something she had only dreamed about before.

"No fuckin' way?!" she exclaimed, grinning widely. "Who?"

Yael smirked, clearly enjoying Rorie's reaction. She leaned in closer and whispered, "Lancome wants you to do a makeup campaign."

Rorie's mouth dropped open in shock. Lancome was one of the biggest beauty companies in the world and being approached by them was like winning the lottery.

"Are you serious?!" Rorie exclaimed excitedly.

"I never joke about business matters," Yael replied with a sly smile. "I've already set up meetings for next week with Lancome. You're going to kill it."

Rorie couldn't contain her excitement as she hugged Yael tightly.

"Thank you so much for everything," Rorie said sincerely.

Yael patted her back before pulling away and and raising her glass of champagne to clink it against Rorie's.

"Don't thank me yet," Yael said playfully. "This is just the beginning, Rorie."

With a loud pop, the cork of the Dom Perignon bottle flew into the air as bubbly liquid sprayed onto the floor, causing her to burst into a fit of giggles and Lewis to let out a curse under his breath.

"Shit," he said once the bubbles had settled and he managed to pour some into a glass. "I didn't mean for that to happen."

He handed her a glass and poured one for himself before raising it in a toast. He usually refrained from drinking, but this was a special occasion - his wife was making waves in the fashion world and she was currently in talks with Lancome for a partnership on a campaign.

When he heard this news, he immediately ordered a private dinner in their suite to celebrate. Lewis had ordered all of Rorie's favorite dishes from the hotel's restaurant and as they sat together at the beautifully set table, Rorie couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with gratitude. She looked over at her husband, who was smiling at her lovingly.

"I can't believe all of this is happening," she said, taking a sip from her chute.

"I can," Lewis replied confidently. "You deserve it, baby."

Rorie smiled, feeling proud and grateful to have such a supportive partner by her side.

"And I have a feeling there's more good news to come," he added with a mischievous grin.

"What do you mean?" Rorie inquired, her eyebrow raising with curiosity.

Lewis let out a light chuckle before reaching underneath the table and retrieving a small velvet box. Sliding it across the table towards Rorie, she gasped in surprise.

"What is this?" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Open it and see," Lewis replied with a grin.

Rorie eagerly lifted the lid of the box to reveal a stunning pair of diamond earrings. "Oh my goodness, Lewis! These are...they're incredible!" Rorie exclaimed, tears welling up in her eyes.

Lewis reached across the table to take her hand in his. "I wanted to give these to you as a congratulatory gift for your achievements today. And also as a belated anniversary present."

Rorie's face lit up with joy as she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him into a loving embrace.

She whispered into Lewis' ear in a seductive tone, "You're definitely getting some pussy tonight."

His breath caught in his throat and his arousal was immediate. "Damn, baby, is it like that?"

"It's exactly like that," she confirmed with a wink as they pulled away from each other.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to give Lyric a sibling," Lewis teased.

"And what if I am?"

Lewis' eyes blazed with desire as he abruptly stood up and pulled her from the table.

"Baby, we haven't finished dinner yet!" Rorie protested in surprise as he led her off the terrace and back to their bedroom.

"We can eat later," he replied, starting to strip off his clothes. "Take that shit off, Mrs. Hamilton, a baby can't make themselves."

TO BE CONTINUED.....

#emjayewrites #private landing #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton fanfiction #sir lewis hamilton #sir lewis hamilton x black!reader #lewis hamilton x black!reader #lewis hamilton x black! oc #formula one x oc #formula one!black reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #lewis hamilton #fake instagram #fake twitter #social media au

[jogetsobsessed]

Always an Angel - Paul Lahote

Ok, I've been obsessed with the lyric “Always an angel, never a god for a few days now. I don't know why all of a sudden but it's been all I can think about. I know there are a bunch of literal interpretations but I look at it as a version of “always the bridesmaid, never the bride”, always the side character, never the main character. So I hope this comes across how I want it to lol. 

Also, the timeline is kinda messed up in this, just live in ignorant bliss and ignore it pls, and thank you!

---------

Always the option, never the priority. 

Always the bridesmaid, never the bride. 

Always the lover, never the loved. 

Always the fighter, never the fought for. 

Always an angel, never a god. 

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

You were used to being sidelined, looked right through. 

No matter what you were doing, or who you were with, you were never the main focus. 

Growing up boys never spared you a glance, your best friends being the main targets for their glances and flirty remarks. You were never the one asked to dance, always the one asked to hold a friend's purse or bag. If the car was full on the way to get ice cream, you were always the one that was going to be left out. You never learned inside jokes and standing alone at parties, you didn't even know why you went, it's not like anyone would notice if you left anyway. 

At night when you would break and confide in the one person you knew truly loved you she would always question why you remained friends with the people that caused you so much pain. And through your blubbering, you would look at her like she was crazy. Explain to your mother that it must have been too long since she was a teenager. Because that's not how it works. Living in a small town the pool of potential friends is small, and having friends that treat you horribly is better than having no friends at all. 

You would apologize to her years later, after maturing, and realizing that the remarks you directed towards her were uncalled for. The anger you threw her way was misguided and unfair. She didn't deserve the way that you treated her. 

When Bella Swan moved to town you thought everything was going to change. She was from a big city, you didn't know much about Phoenix but you knew they probably didn't harbor the same small-town mindset that Forks did. 

She had no clue who you were. She didn't know the unspoken reputation that hung above your head like a storm cloud. 

And at first, you were right. 

The two of you became friends quickly, Bella taking a liking to your quiet demeanor, such a drastic change from Jessica and her goons. 

Your friendship appeared surface-level, to everyone but the two of you. In school, you both kept to yourselves and didn't talk much, even to each other. You would drag her along with you when you gathered the strength to hang out with your old friends. But you didn't do that often, seeing as they saw her as a shiny new toy and didn't treat her as a second-class citizen. 

But after school the two of you would talk, your friendship would come alive in the comfort of your own homes, and you two would look like actual teenage girls and not two seventeen-year-olds who should be on the highest dose of Lexapro. 

She was the first person that you saw as a true friend, that was until she committed, in your opinion, a cardinal sin. 

Bella had gone off the deep end and you hadn't seen her in days. But that was normal, she would spiral, skip school, and then show up as if nothing happened. So you weren't concerned, sent her a few texts checking up on her and getting one-word responses back. Then the following Monday came around. You were waiting by your truck, lazily twirling your hair, eyes glazed over as you dissociated waiting for the bell to ring. 

But amid your dissociation, you were pulled back to reality when a shiny black Volvo came to a screeching halt a row over. You knew who drove the expensive car so you tried to be as nonchalant as possible as you peered over your shoulder to get a good look at the owner. 

You wished you hadn't. 

Because getting out of the passenger seat was the person that you considered your best friend. Your best friend was sitting in the passenger seat of the car of the guy you had a crush on since he arrived at Forks High School. 

She knew about your long-standing crush on Edward, she was the only person other than your mother who you had told. It came tumbling off your tongue one late night about a month after she had arrived in town. And you had sworn her to secrecy, begging her to never tell another soul. 

But now it seemed to not matter, she had broken your trust and your heart. 

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

The next year drug on. With Bella being completely infatuated with Edward you were left to crawl back to your old friends. They accepted you with barely open arms, reluctantly saving you a seat at the lunch table, sometimes sending you the location for Friday night activities. 

When the Cullen clan abruptly left Forks Bella did to you exactly what you had done to your friends months earlier. Part of you didn't know why, but you let her back in, although this time keeping her at an arm's length away, never fully trusting her, 

Eventually, however, Edward came back. First making his appearance walking hand in hand with Bella in the dreadful hallways of Forks High School after she had disappeared yet again for a few days with not even a courtesy text. 

This time seeing them together didn't feel like a hot knife was piercing your skin. How could it, you no longer felt the same that you had for Edward. Because he had proven himself to be just like everyone else. He made you feel invisible. 

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

The heat of late spring had arrived and you took in all the warmth that you could as you walked down the small rocky path to the mailbox. Graduation had come and gone and you found yourself in isolation. The people you had forced yourself to be friends with in high school no longer mattered. You didn't have to play the uncertain game of high school politics anymore. Starting university was on the horizon and while you dreaded leaving the comfort of home you were excited, this was going to be your chance to reinvent yourself. You were no longer going to be the person no one cared to look towards. 

Pulling out the various envelopes you felt your heart stop beating when the light lilac envelope was pulled to the front. You knew what it was, you didn't even have to open it. But you did, ripping it open, praying that you hadn't torn apart the coveted invitation. Sure enough in bold letters, you read “Edward Anthony Masen Cullen and Isabella Marie Swan request your presence…”. 

The phone call with Bella that night was awkward. You haven't talked much since graduation but she assured you that she wanted you to be at the wedding. You had wanted to push and ask her why she was rushing to get married. I mean you along with everyone else knew that they had only known each other for a year and hadn't been dating for the entirety of said year. But she sounded happy, the happiest she had ever seemed. So you didn't say anything, instead prying for details about the impending nuptials. 

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

Thousands of flowers cascaded down creating a custom perfume in the air. Your eyes darted between the bunches of wisteria and sweet peas and you were in awe. The wedding had snuck up on you. So much had happened over the summer leaving you feeling unprepared to start school in the fall. Leaving you to make one of the hardest choices that you had ever made, deferring your acceptance into your top school to the following fall quarter. 

So when you got a reminder on your phone that read “Bella and Edward wedding tmr” you were at a loss for words. I mean you had everything you physically needed, a dress, a present, the right pair of shoes. But you had forgotten one important thing, a date. 

It wasn't going to be the first time you had shown up to an event without one, but it was probably going to feel the most embarrassing. 

So here you were, standing next to your group of “friends'' from high school as they gossiped about the possibility of Bella being pregnant. “What do you think?”Erik asked you, giving your arm a soft nudge with his. “I don't know guys '. Jessica of course had a counter, pointing out that out of the group you were the closest with her. Luckily before you had to come up with an excuse of why you didn't know for certain the music began, signaling that it was time for everyone to turn their attention to the altar. 

A few tears managed to slip down your cheeks as you watched your sometimes best friend say “I do”. In that moment all the turbulent times the two of you experienced didn't matter. You were just happy to be in the presence of two people who were madly in love and confessing it to each other, permanently sealing their love with a dramatic kiss. 

The reception area was decorated equally as beautiful. You were grateful that Bella, or more likely Alice had set you close to the dance floor. That way you could watch people without feeling like a total loser, hanging out in the corner by yourself. At least this way you could still enjoy the happiness of the other guests without feeling the gross amount of body heat from the dancing bodies. 

The ice was melting quickly in your lemonade, the night had not been rewarded with a cool late summer breeze so you were appreciative of the cool drink. The night had seemingly been going according to plan. Your ‘friends’ had migrated to another table across the dance floor with the excuse of wanting to talk to some of the other guests, but they had not returned in almost two hours so you were holding your breath. 

Mentally you were planning your escape plan, glancing at your watch. Waiting for an acceptable time to leave, not too early into the night but not too late that you were leaving only minutes before the bride and groom's big exit. As you granted yourself yet another glance at the heirloom watch you wore and looked back up a gasp unwillingly left your lips. 

The mystery man, who looked almost familiar, chuckled at your surprised look. Confidently he took the empty seat next to yours, turning his body to give you his full attention. “May I help you”, you didn't recognize your own words, your tone was a bit rude and you didn't even give him a second to introduce himself after she sat. 

“I’m Paul Lahote”. 

Once he gave his name to you your eyes moved up to meet him and the electric shock that you felt in your veins almost felt real. There was no doubt blush forming on every inch of your face and you were praying that the low light of the Edison bulbs did a good job at protecting some of your dignity. You gave him your name, barely squeaking out your last name. 

Things like this didn't happen to you. A man that looked like him didn't talk to you. A part of you wondered if Jessica or someone like her had already turned him down, because let's face it, you were always the option but never the priority. 

“I think you should share a dance with me, no pretty girl like you should be sitting alone at a wedding”. The flare in your cheeks was visible now, you were sure of it. No matter how low the light was you could have sworn a red glow was emitting from your body, like an accusing halo. 

“Paul…you don't have to dance with me, I was just getting ready to leave”. Gathering your belongings as you begin to stand up. “No!”. He said, eyebrows raising to the top of his forehead once he realized how loud he exclaimed. Sheepishly he looked around offering small smiles as an apology to a few of the guests who looked at him like he had three heads. 

“Please, I noticed you when I walked in before the ceremony and I haven't been able to shake you from my eyeline all night. I don’t think I can take no for an answer”. 

The fact that your heart was still caged behind your chest was an act of god. Because at this point it should have flown away due to how hard it was beating. You were at a loss for words. The thought that someone was putting you first, taking interest in you was unbearable. And you were crumbling at his gaze. 

His outstretched hand found yours that you slowly had begun to uncurl from against your body. Swiftly he whisked you out onto the dance floor, pulling your body flush to his. 

Clumsily your feat matched his falling into routine with his steps, your body swaying in unison to the light melody. He hummed along softly to the quiet music as he kept a firm grip on you, almost like he was afraid to let you go. 

The song ended and awkwardly you looked around not knowing what to do. Paul however looked happy as can be, letting go of your hand but keeping the one on your lower back in place. He led you back to the table where you had spent most of the night, pulling out your chair before you could even react. You thanked him as you sunk into the back of the chair trying to ground yourself. 

“Man, I feel like the luckiest guy here at this whole damn wedding I got to dance with the prettiest guest of them all”. He said matter-of-factly triumphantly, taking a sip out of the glass he abandoned when he first approached your table. You scoffed, there was no way he was being for real, the alcohol had to have been getting to him now if he was saying such an untrue statement. 

“I think you've had enough”. Your voice was shy and your eyes barely peeked through your almost closed eyelids. The embarrassment you hadn't felt earlier had returned and you were suddenly hyper-conscious of everything happening around you. 

“Doll this stuff doesn't make me feel anything, you, however, are making me feel alive for the first time”. His drink was abandoned yet again as he scooted his chair closer, invading your bubble, and causing you to squirm under his gaze yet again. 

“Paul, I'm flattered but again I think your choices are impaired. There's no way you feel anything like that for me”. 

Paul was out of his chair before you could continue your babbling, cutting you off by capturing your lips in his. 

After he pulled back for air his forehead rested against yours, the two of you matching your breathing. You were yet again at a loss for words, kissing the hottest boy at your best friend's wedding was not on this year's bingo card. But as per usual it seems Paul had the perfect thing to say, “My angel forgive me if this is forward, but l you need to let me love you, I have a feeling that you're gonna be stuck with me for a long time”.

#edward cullen #fanfic #imprint #paul lahote #paul lahote x reader #twilight #x reader #fem reader #sam uley #seth clearwater #twilight saga #twilight x reader #jacob black #midnight sun #the twilight saga #twilight fanfiction #twilight fandom #jogetsobsessed #twilight imagine #leah clearwater #volturi #twilight werewolves #twilight wolfpack #twilight wolves

[averytirednerd]

Oh yeah, time for a big rant about Hazbin Hotel!!!

I haven’t really had much of a chance to sit down and write about this since I watched the episodes, so things I say are probably going to reflect what others have said. I’m just writing this to gush about the things I love about some particular songs in HH. 

I didn’t have any big expectations going into the first episode, because I’d mostly heard negative reviews of the show so far. I had heard that the songs, however, were bright spots, so I really looked out for the songs and listened in every time we were graced with one. The characters are truly the best versions of themselves whenever there’s a song going on, even if they aren’t the main focus of the song. It’s amazing to see, especially since my favorite thing about this show is the characters themselves.

My favorites are “Loser, Baby” & “Stayed Gone” and will probably be the main focus of this post because <3333

“Stayed Gone” is sung by Christian Borle (Vox) and Amir Talai (Alastor) and I could not be happier about it. Their voices are amazing here, and my favorite bits of this song are on repeat in my head.

I also love little visuals like the mug Vox has in the talk show format, the scrolling text in the news show format, or Vox’s error message toward the end of their bantering. 

(The scrolling text says: “I’m totally not worried about this guy and neither should you be. I totally wrecked his sh*t last time he tried me.”)

Alastor really gets under Vox’s skin and it makes me kick my feet every time. Their dynamic truly is everything, and I’m so excited we got this song that showcases it perfectly. 

He clearly enjoys it too, what a little jerk.

Speaking of these two, Vox definitely had/has a thing for Al at some point, right? I mean…inviting him to the Vees for a start. Not to mention just the v i b e s. Poor guy though, it’s definitely one-sided.

I love Al’s use of…modern…lingo. Truly a spectacle. That on top of it being a reveal of Al’s rejection to Vox’s offer 💀 I love this man <333

Last thing about this song, promise, but also I love the casual little lore drops and more pieces to the puzzle of the past that we get. Very exciting! Can’t wait to see how everything fits together once we find more pieces.

Okay okay, moving on. “Loser, Baby” is amazing musically as well as visually. 

First things first, I LOVE JAZZ OMG AND IT FITS HUSK’S VIBE AND EVERYTHING SO PERFECTLY???

Keith David’s voice definitely fits Husk in my eyes now, I see it, it works. He’s amazing. Does a fantastic job.

Not to mention Blake Roman’s performance was, of course, incredible as well. 

The big, upbeat, brassy sound in this song is amazing and I’m loving the trumpet in it especially (any fellow trumpet players? no?)

I love everything about this song. The visuals, voices, instrumentals, lyrics, message, all of it!

Husk slowly going from “yeah you kinda suck lmao, but so do I” in order to not make Angel feel like he’s not being genuine, to sneaking in a better message of “we’re not perfect but it’s okay, don’t be so hard on yourself” (and getting Angel to believe/go along with it too!!) is amazing. It’s a perfect example of these characters being the best versions of themselves during musical numbers. 

This song is what solidified Husk as number 2 in my rankings (and I’m sure I’m not the only one). I mean…just look at the way he moves, it’s so silly.

(We’re going to ignore the Videoshop watermarks, okay?)

Overall, I’m loving this show so far despite some obvious issues with pacing n such and an overall rocky start. Especially loving the songs, which I think kinda make the show rn. 

If anyone wants to add anything (because I definitely didn’t cover a whole lot, just surface level stuff because even this took a while to type out) then please feel free to! Also ask me any questions you’ve got for me concerning stuff that has/will happen(ed) in Hazbin Hotel. I love HH discourse!

Thanks to those of you who read all the way through, sorry for such a long post lol <3

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor the radio demon #the radio demon #radio demon #radiostatic #I mean I guess there’s some radiostatic in here #hazbin hotel husk #husk hazbin hotel #husk #huskerdust #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel angel dust #angel dust #vox the tv demon #vox hazbin #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #i love these guys sm #stayed gone hazbin hotel #loser baby Hazbin hotel #my post

[bcyhoods]

🎤 VOCALIST ── send in a character + any prompts in this cool tag or a lyric prompt of your choice for a blurb (remember to tell me which list the prompt is from!)

dreamy (from different types of kisses) + angel baby steve <3

— ivy / @inkluvs

i am realizing now how difficult kisses are to write smoothly lolz. hopefully this is okay <333 | 1.3k gn!reader

“You know, I don’t think you’re actually supposed to aim for my toes when we do this.”

Your head falls to his chest in resignation, a groan of equal sentiment dying out in the cotton of his shirt. Even though his subsequent laughter is genial and bright, your face still burns against him. You’re sure if you stayed there any longer that the searing heat of your cheek would leave a discolored patch on the garment.

“You are such a jerk, I’m trying my best!” You argue, pulling back with your eyes squeezed shut and nose facing the wall to avoid his gaze.

He watches with a wide grin as your expression twists in embarrassment. And though he can clearly see that your eyes are closed, he still ducks and tilts his head to make sure they’re level with his own. His stare is stuck on your eyelids, frantically darting between the two to see if you’ll give him the pleasure of opening them any time soon. He laughs again when he sees your timid smile before you pull your chin to your chest.

“How am I the jerk? I’m the one with a broken foot, here.”

As dramatic as he is, the words carry no real annoyance. He’s fine; his foot is intact and he’ll most certainly live. Still, your palm grows sweaty where it’s clasped with his.

It was a silly idea that he’d proposed. Well, enforced to be more accurate. An off-handed comment — a little muddled by a handful of popcorn in your mouth — about having two left feet made him spring up from the couch and offer his hand. He was absolutely determined to help you practice slow dancing, hyping up his adequate sense of rhythm and decent coordination.

And he’d looked so eager, with fluffy hair and old clothes for pajamas, smiling down at you with a fondness that made it impossible to refuse. You take up his offer with little hesitation, figuring it would be easy enough. Plus, it might be worth it to be this close to him for a while, and he’s thanking you for it in his head.

But a couple of scratchy, romantic records later, and all you have to show for it is an imprint of Steve’s big toe on the sole of your sock-clad foot.

While he’s red in the face from laughter and joy, frustration is pulling the corners of your lips into a frown. Because what should be a romantic scene is a little more difficult for you than you want it to be and you might be getting in your own head about it. Admittedly, you’re taking it a bit more seriously than he is.

“I promise I’m trying,” you mutter under your breath, barely audible as you stare down at your feet to make sure you don’t step on him again.

His brows crease in concern at the change in your demeanor. “I know,” he answers softly. When you don’t look up at him, his arm tightens around your waist to pull you against his frame. A reassuring squeeze is sent to your hand before he’s toying with the promise ring on your fourth finger, smiling as he recalls the matching one on his own. He finishes with a deeper cadence, still just as gently, “I know. I was just messing with you.”

There’s a beat of silence between you before he sighs and halts your swaying completely. He smooths his hand up your back, leaving a line of fire across your spine with his blunt nails until they end up at the nape of your neck. Meanwhile, the hand that’s wrapped in yours is guided to his torso, prompting you to hold onto him there instead. All for the greater purpose of cradling your face in his hands.

He knows you too well. A promise of love shines in his eyes as they catch the subtle annoyance hidden in the creases of your face. The softness of his smile, his touch, is a manifestation of that promise and it has you taking a particularly hefty breath to calm the chaos in your chest.

“Hey, you’re doing fine. Promise. Stop worrying that pretty little head of yours.” He looks you in the eye the entire time, rubbing his thumbs over your cheeks to emphasize his final point. And maybe being this close to him was a bad idea because you’re afraid your knees are going to buckle at his attentiveness.

And the fear becomes even more prominent when you spot his eyes dip down to your lips just for a split second before returning. You can feel your heart jump into your throat and the gooey smile being pushed onto your face before you can restrain it. He mimics the same expression, as if it’d be any help to your current state. You’re so out of it, you barely hear him ask, “Wanna keep trying?”

“You make me nervous.”

He blinks. “Me? Why do I make you nervous?”

“Dunno!…’Cause you’re, like…you’re looking at me like that,” you try to explain. It comes out in between nervous laughter, pushed out through teeth glued together in a smile only he can seem to cause. And he decides to take full advantage of it.

“Hmm. Like what?”

His brow raises suggestively before inching closer to you. His mouth just hovers over yours, tauntingly tickling your skin with a smug grin. You swallow down your nerves, nudging his nose with the tip of your own.

“Like…”

You push closer, puckering your lips against his in a kiss that’s barely there. Tenderness seeps through his fingers as they cup your jaw, and scratch the nape of your neck to elicit a sigh from you. His breath hitches at the sound and he’s pushing into the kiss out of poorly constrained excitement. His lips drag slowly, like he’s savoring the taste of you and committing it to memory. He all but whines when you’re finally pulling away for air, resting your forehead on his.

His lips are slick and kiss-bitten, face flushed and ears bright red. His chest is heaving and his eyes are closed in bliss. He looks wrecked and you’re not doubting that you look the same, but looking at him like this makes your stomach flutter.

You giggle, this time a more deliberate sound. “You’re distracting me.”

He huffs in disbelief and pulls back to look at you. You can feel his hands grow warmer in your skin with each passing second, the blush on his face deepening. “You’re distracting me! I’m supposed to be teaching you.”

“Well, you’re not doing a very good job,” you wince playfully, nudging his wounded foot.

As if it were possible, his smile widens and an airy laugh reverberates in his chest. “Yeah, cuz you’re looking at me like that.”

He dives in to capture your lips once more and hums at the contact. It’s notably more difficult this time around, your smiles getting in the way as your teeth clumsily scratch against each other. But it doesn’t stop either of you from pressing on, lips locking and clicking with every ebb and it makes your fingers twist into his tee. He pulls back with his lips comically puckered and placing them on your forehead for one final kiss.

“You're fine. You’re gonna get it, hmm?” He looks at you expectantly and you just about melt in his arms. It’s a silly thing, sure, but he sounds so sure, so confident in you. And his brown eyes are wide and teeming with ardor. You nod, a huge grin on your face.

“Let’s just hope you’re not in a cast by then.”

#incapable of writing short thing sorry <3 #i got. invested in the slow dancing part. #ᝰ cece’s scribbles #ღ 300 celebration ! #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x you #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington hc #stranger things fluff #stranger things blurb #stranger things fic #steve stranger things

[eros-vigilante]

The Many References in Teniwoha's Samsa

If you haven't read "The Metamorphosis" by Franz Kafka, the one thing you likely know about the short story is that in it a man turns into a bug. And this is enough to recognize the allusion of Samsa being named after the protagonist, Gregor Samsa, as well as the imagery of a dragging tail and onomatopoeia of "zuki". However, there are several deeper layers to Teniwoha's symbolism of themes and references to "The Metamorphosis" that add a great level of cohesion with Immiscible Discord's story. First, I would like to say that "The Metamorphosis" can be found as a free pdf online, and is a very good short story, so if you have the time and energy you should read it. This post will only be summarizing the themes that are referenced in Samsa and Immiscible Discord and will not include some of the other great commentaries Franz Kafka has. And of course, it will spoil the progression of the plot. Also, all quoted lyrics are from Amiaryllis' english cover, which is also very good and worth listening to. The lyrics will not be quoted in order.

The biggest and first theme the surrealist nature of the story expresses is that Gregor Samsa has been led to - and does - believe that his worth is tied to his ability to work. When he discovers he is a bug, he is only concerned because he is going to be late for his job if he cannot figure out how to get out of bed in his new body. He is determined to go to work because his entire family relies on his job to pay for their lives. ("i've grown monstrous down to the very core of my soul") This is comparable to Mafuyu's relationship to academics. Their mother relies on them to fulfill her dream of Mafuyu becoming a doctor, and so teaches them that nothing matters as much as this goal. Even when Mafuyu is stressed or physically ill, they push themselves to attend school, club activities, cram school, and study. Mafuyu's academic performance is their worth to their mother, as Samsa's income is his worth to his family. ("so could the bravest of souls face me and bear the toll?") When Samsa's family discovers he is an insect, they are horrified. Samsa finds this reasonable as he also considers his form monstrous. It is another theme of the story being from his perspective that he has good faith in his family to the point of seeming either naive or to have a low self-esteem. Actions that are most easily justified as disgust and hatred are rationalized by him, despite acknowledging at points that his family was not as affectionate to him after they began relying on him for money, as well as acts of physical violence such as his father shoving him back into his room.

("those painful fights, fearful nights") This is an interesting thing to compare to Mafuyu's experience of being gaslit by their mother. They believe very strongly- because they were told- that everything their mother is doing is for them, their future, and is in their best interests. This prevents them from questioning her actions and sacrificing their own desires in a self-destructive manner, which is also something Samsa does. For instance, he hides himself with a bedsheet so his sister does not have to see him when she brings him food, despite him finding this uncomfortable. ("craving any smile or attention just from you") Samsa's sister is the only one who still shows affection towards him, as she is the one who brings him food, but eventually she too festers fear towards and dehumanizes him. By the end of the story, the entire family blames their despair on him becoming an insect and no longer believe he is Gregor Samsa. The most direct reference to the story in the lyrics is when his father throws apples at him and has to be stopped from killing him by his wife, Gregor's mother. He crawls back into his room and he is locked inside. ("i beg, don’t throw those rotten apples at my chest before they lock up, lock up samsa") This could best reference when Kaito says that Mafuyu's mother is killing their feelings or true identity. Additionally, Mafuyu's mother places all blame for Mafuyu's recent behavior on Kanade's influence. And as the family plans for their life after his death, Mafuyu's mother tells Kanade that she plans to convince Mafuyu to go back to doing what she wants, no matter how extreme she must be about it. ("if it all goes to plan, then, we’ll soon rejoice") In the end, Gregor Samsa stops eating, and dies of starvation. All the while, he still thinks fondly of his family and believes they are in the right for their treatment of him. Gregor Samsa is used to form a strong representation of the extent to which Mafuyu has been gaslit. ("so please don't tell me that you'll be giving up on reality, samsa") The biggest difference (other than the bug transformation) is that Mafuyu has people who still dearly care about them, and not just for what they can provide. While all of Gregor Samsa's family abandons him, the other members of Nightcord do not abandon Mafuyu. Mafuyu has a reason to live, and people to tell them that they do not deserve to be locked away. ("i know that brilliant light will shine as the clock strikes 25")

He could already hardly feel the decayed apple in his back or the inflamed area around it, which was entirely covered in white dust. He thought back of his family with emotion and love. If it was possible, he felt that he must go away even more strongly than his sister. He remained in this state of empty and peaceful rumination until he heard the clock tower strike three in the morning. He watched as it slowly began to get light everywhere outside the window too. Then, without his willing it, his head sank down completely, and his last breath flowed weakly from his nostrils (Franz Kafka).

#mafuyu asahina #immiscible discord #mafumom #samsa teniwoha #franz kafka #prosekai #n25

[chouxsardine]

Permission to Fall -- Jake Kiszka x reader

Summary: "Don't be afraid of falling, because he will catch you everytime" --Where things became too much at your company's Christmas party and Jake comes to the rescue as the most thoughtful boyfriend that he is.

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x reader

Word Count: 3211

Warnings: descriptions of a panic attack, feet (nothing gross or super detailed), a drop of superstition (let me know if I've missed any)

Genre: Fluff, hurt/comfort

Author's note: This is originally an idea inspired by @jakesguitarsolo and written for her. I hope you feel better now, dear. One idea spins into me pulling an all nighter...And here it is. This also goes to whoever feels stressed around this time of the year. Yes, things are tough, but you are stronger. I am so proud of you. If you want to talk, feel free to send me an ask or message. This is my first gvf fic and my first time writing anything for threes years. I really enjoyed writing it. I hope you enjoy reading it too.

🎧: I am listening to I Need You Most of All by Stephen Sanchez while writing this (you can tell the title is taken from the lyrics)

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Suddenly everything is too much.

But you know damn well that it doesn’t just happen “suddenly”. In fact, shit has been building up for days, or even weeks. You don’t know if it’s the end-of-year frenzy getting into everyone’s head, Mercury is in retrograde, or the depleted Vitamin D levels due to shortened daylight, you’ve had it particularly rough recently, from small inconveniences like your favourite snack being out of stock at the local grocery store for three consecutive weeks to mishaps like you taking the blame for your impotent coworker. You are exhausted, to say the least; you couldn’t wait for the holidays. Not entirely for its cheer, but for the few precious days off. You just need a break from everything.

Now you are stuck in your company’s holiday party. The annual event that you dreaded the most. It involves too many fake smiles, false-hearted small talk, and tooth-rotting-sweet cupcakes that clearly have too much food colouring. All the mental preparing goes south as you stand in the room, the stabbing pain from your high-heels growing more and more unbearable by the second. Too many people.

“Just another thirty minutes, you can do it. Just another thirty minutes”. You hopelessly glance at the clock on the wall, flashbacking to your childhood self squirming in the seats waiting for math class to end.

But of course, something has to make matters worse. The real straw that breaks the camel’s back is your clumsy coworker accidentally bumping into you and spilling her drink on your shoes.

“Oh my god, I am so so sorry, y/n!” She hastily apologizes in a high-pitched squeal. A few people turn their heads toward your direction.

“No, no, it’s okay, don’t worry about it.” Embarrassment. Embarrassment. Panic. Trouble. You try to wave her off. The shoes aren’t even your top concerns right now; you just want her to stop talking and stop attracting more unwanted attention.

“Really? Oh I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to! It’s just—”

“Please.” You take the handful of tissues from her, look her in the eyes, almost pleading, “It’s fine. Please excuse me, I’ll just go to the washroom real quick.”

Once the washroom door is closed behind you, you feel like collapsing right there on the floor. You wobble your way to the sink, arms propped up on the cold marble surface. You don’t dare to look at yourself in the mirror. Your ears are buzzing and the twisted feeling in your lungs tightens. As if a cold hand is wringing a wet towel inside your stomach, as if someone is shoving your head into cold water, you can't breath properly. You try to draw a breath, but end up sounding like a stranded whale. Before it develops into a full-blown panic attack that you can’t handle, you managed to muster the last bit of your sanity and dial that number with trembling fingers.

Jake picks up on the second ring.

“Hi, love. What’s up? ”

Upon hearing his voice, your tears break free. You are sobbing so hard that you have to bite down on your knuckles to keep the volume down. God forbid any busybody out there overhearing sobbing coming out of the washroom. “Ja—Jake—-”You struggled to form a coherent syllable.

“What’s wrong, y/n? Are you hurt?” His voice immediately grows sterner, stripped of of the previous languidness.

To talk under this state feels like squeezing words out of your veins. “Ca—can—you..come p—pick me up? Company—p-party.” You stutter through gritted teeth.

There is some shuffled noise over the phone, a loud bang sounding like he had bumped into something, a silent “fuck” under his breath, then his voice reaches your ears again: “Coming right now, baby, take a deep breath for me.”

You hear the faint beeping of car keys. More shuffled noise. More beeping. That means he has started the car, right? That means he will be here soon, right? You mind is racing and spinning and your lungs are still acting up, only allow silvers of oxygen into your body. You feel like you are watching the world through a distorted filter. A scarier thought jumps into your brain: you whiny puny thing, continue crying and your panic will affect Jake. The roads are slippery now, and it will be all your fault if he ends up in a car accident.

As if being slapped in the face, you manage to suck in a deep breath like a scuba diver resurfacing to the water: “Drive safe please, please Jake, please—I will wait for you.”

Jake makes a sound that is somewhat between a relieved laugh and a resigned sigh. He knows instantly what’s going on in your overthinking brain; you are worried about him. The thoughtfulness must be engraved in y/n’s brain, he thought, always, always putting others in front of herself, even when she’s having a panic attack. And Jake knows you are correct. It is only upon hearing your words that he realizes how hard he was gripping the steering wheel. He recomposes himself, relaxing his shoulder, “Don’t you worry about me, love. I will stay on the phone if that makes you feel better, yeah? Ain’t nothing gonna happen to me.”

“Knock on wood!” You hiss between sobbing, frantically searching for any wooden material around you. Damn it, why is everything so shiny and glassy?

Jake is amazed that he even lets out a short laugh under the circumstances. Yes, his heart aches hearing his girl being a mess over the phone, and he wishes he could grow wings and fly to her side. But meanwhile, he can't help but find you cute like this. He knocks three times on the mini wooden tissue box that he keeps in the middle console.

“Yes, knock on wood. You hear that, doll?”

“Hmm.” You would honestly believe anything now. Hearing Jake’s voice and imagining him coming to you is like brown noise for babies. Your lungs finally decide to have mercy on you, and you can now somehow draw in shallow breaths albeit the pain in your chest.

Jake is relieved as he sees the green lights shining at the last intersection before turning left onto the side road where your company is located. “I’m here. Can you come down by yourself, love? Or do you want me to get you?”

“I can come down.” You say. The thought of him finding you in a messy pile on the bathroom floor makes you wince, even though he’d probably seen worse.

“Okay baby, see you in a second.”

You don’t remember how you collected your coat and pushed your way through the crowded room without many people noticing. The next moment, your sensations are restored, and you find yourself already in Jake’s arms. He's waiting for you in the area between the automatic glass door and the revolving door outside, a place that is warm with air conditioning but won’t attract nosy people. He wraps you in a hug with his wool jacket. His comforting scent fills your nostrils, a powerful pacifier for your naughty lungs. For the first time this evening, you can finally breathe properly like a normal human being. The rush of fresh air makes you release a loud sob like a newborn baby. The relief of seeing him safely standing in front of you and the release of finally being free from the stressful and stuffy environment ushers more tears to stream down your face.

“Shhhh…..you’re okay now, y/n, safe now. I’m here.” His hand wraps protectively around the back of your head as he plants kisses into your hair. “Poor girl, let’s get to the car and go home.”

Home. Home sounds heavenly to your right now. You couldn’t think of a better combination of these four letters in the whole of human history.

On the way back, you curl into a ball on the passenger seat like a battered puppy. Jake holds your hand whenever he gets the chance, his strong calloused fingers gently massaging yours, tracing the patterns on your palm, his thumb brushing the back of your hand, providing warmth. No longer crying, your shoulders occasionally shudder with involuntary sobs that escape you. But other than that, you are falling into a trance. Your gaze concentrated on Jake’s perfect side profile through hooded eyes, watching in awe as the passing streetlights formed patterns of shadow on his graceful nose and cheeks; your mind numb without a single thought.

It is only when Jake wakes you up that you realize you have fallen asleep. The car is already parked in the garage, the familiar and comforting damp smell seeping in.

“We are home now, sleepyhead.” Jake smiles at you, tapping on your wrist to signal you to wait as he gets out of the car and opens your side of the door. Just as you were about to step off, Jake reaches to cradle you by the shoulders and knees, carrying you bridle-style into the house. You hide your face shyly in the crook of his neck, secretly grateful because your feet are indeed sore in those heels.

Jake puts you down by the shoe rack, motioning you to put your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself as he squats down in front you, holding your ankles and taking off your shoes. If he did see the stains, he didn’t ask any questions, only cooed when he saw the blisters on your heels.

“Let’s go upstairs and get your makeup off, then we’ll cuddle and go to bed, yeah?” Jake stands up, hanging up your coat before cupping your cheeks and placing a kiss on your forehead.

You never hated makeup more than now, regretting to put it on in the first place, now that it has become the annoying barrier lying in your way to bedtime. But Jake says “let’s,” that means he’s going to do it together with you, right?

“Jake?” You whine bashfully.

“Yes, love?”

You tilt up your chin and close your eyes, “One more kissy, please?”

Jake swears he feels a part of his heart melt right there. Who is he to deny you?

“Of course, as many as my princess would like.”

Stepping into the bathroom, Jake sits you on the closed toilet seat. He opens the drawer, grabs your makeup remover and some cotton pads. He applies some liquid onto the wipes and lifts up your chin.

“Close your eyes for me, love.” The cool liquid on your eyelids makes your eyebrows twitch, causing Jake to chuckle, “I know, I know. Just a little longer.”

You sit quietly, mesmerized and hypnotized under his touch. His movements are almost rhythmic. Is this how cats feel when their owners scratches behind their ears? You fear that if you make a sound, you will actually let out a purr.

Jake continues until most of your makeup is gone. “Hold out your hands,” you hear him say and complied. Two dollops of foamy liquid landed in the centre of your palm, and you opened your eyes to recognize they are your face wash. Jake tugs on your wrist, leading you to stand in front of the sink.

“Can you wash your pretty face now, darling? Wash up, and I’ll be back in a minute.”

You nodded, feeling lighter and more relaxed now without your makeup and even more content when you turn on the tap and find out that Jake has already tuned it to a lukewarm temperature for you.

When Jake returned, he was calling you from the bedroom. You have already brushed your teeth and let down your hair.

You walked into the bedroom and are welcomed by the scent of bergamot and sandalwood from your favourite candle glowing on the night stand. Jake was pulling an old T-shirt out from the closet. It was the vintage Joan Jett and The Blackhearts shirt, the patterns half faded, and materials worn-out soft. You saw him laying out one of his boxers for you too. He knows you always prefer them to your own underwear as pyjamas.

“Come sit, angel.” He patted the bench at the foot of the bed, him sitting across from it on a small stool.

It is only when you walked close that you saw the wooden foot spa basin, with clouds of steam rising from it. As you sat down, he gently took your ankle and balanced your feet on the edge of the basin, so that the hot water is steaming your sole.

“It’s still a bit hot.” He looks up to you. “I put Epsom salt and eucalyptus oil in it.”

“Where did you get this?” You feel like the heat from the bottom of the feet is slowly being absorbed into your veins and rising up to your cheeks. You wiggle your toes nervously.

Jake lets out a giggle, “Well, mum suggested once to Josh about the foot spa thing, said it helps with stress and tense muscles. You know, with him running barefoot on stage and all.” He reaches down to sprinkle some water onto your feet, letting you adjust to the temperature. “But Josh got the fancy electric ones. I thought this is better. More authentic, don’t you think?”

“Uh-hmm.”

“Your nails are all chipped,” Jake looks down, “maybe tomorrow we can repaint them? I saw you bought a new colour the other day.”

Tender. So tender. From his tone to his caramel brown eyes. The light from the lamp illuminates the left side of his face, giving it a solemn, smooth glow like a wax statue. Your heart swells; love makes it rise like Soufflé in the oven. The soft surface rises up until it touches your ribcage, threatening to spill those tears again.

“Thank you, Jake.” You dare not raise your voice, fearing that it will break, “I just got a bit overwhelmed at the party, is all.”

Jake eases your feet slowly into the water now that it’s the perfect temperature. The slight sling of your blisters is soon overwhelmed by the all-encompassing warmth that rises all the way to your ankle.

After a few heart beats, he speaks again. “You’ll always have me, y/n. You are allowed to fall, to break. I will be here to catch you, to piece you together. Whatever you need.”

Finally you were snuggled together in bed. You, a human koala, cling to Jake with your face pressed against his chest. His arm snakes around your shoulder, fingers mindlessly tracing your collarbone, strumming some unknown patterns. His heartbeat thumping in your ear, the perfect lullaby. The steady rise and fall of his chest is like waves, rocking you into a sweet slumber. Your eyelids feel heavy like velvet drapes. There’s still a stubborn voice in your brain keeping you from falling asleep. There’s still one more thing you need to do, even though you understood each other perfectly.

“Jake?” Your voice low like a murmur. Jake almost didn’t hear you at first.

“What is it, babe?”

“I love you.” Those words come out as a slur, and like a magic spell, you fall into the deep embrace of sleep as soon as the last syllable leaves your lips. Now clear of any stress and worries in the arms of your lover, the strained string in you brain that has been holding on for dear life the whole evening finally snaps. You’re out like a light.

“I love you back, y/n, through and through.” He whispers into your dream.

You woke up to an empty bed, the sheet on his side still has the human-shaped imprint. Jake is a night owl; it is pretty common that he just gets up in the middle of the night and ends up doing some random things around the house. Most often it’s him strumming the guitar and experimenting with his ideas for new tunes in the home studio downstairs. But you have also caught him fixing chipped paint on the walls, repotting the succulents in the garage, and pouring broth into the crockpot with chicken thighs and smoked ham hock (“so we could have warm chicken chili in the morning!”; to be honest, it’s indeed delicious; you had two bowls and had to skip lunch that day). Just to name a few, so the possibilities are endless.

You get out of bed, creep cross the corridor and tiptoe your way down the stairs. The lights at the doorway are on; you thought Jake forgot to turn them off. However, as you approach, you see Jake squatting down next to the shoe rack, his back towards you, and a brush and some spray bottles laying nearby.

You move closer and see him holding the clothes steamer near your wine-stained shoes. The heels you wore have a suede tip in the front, and unfortunately, that’s where the wine was mostly spilt on. After a few moments, Jake uses the wire brush to clean the surface. He stops from time to time, holding it further to inspect the result.

You waited until he stops again to make some sounds, announcing your presence. Jake immediately turns around. His eyes softens upon seeing you.

“What are you doing up?”

You go to squat down next to him, kissing his temple before resting your head on his shoulder.

“You just bought these not so long ago, yeah? It’d be a shame to leave them stained.” Jake lets more steam soak into the fabric before brushing them again. “I’m almost done. I saw this trick online, and it looks pretty legit.” It’s only then that you noticed his phone on the side, the screen showing the replies from some Reddit post.

“Thank you, baby.” You rub your cheeks slightly on his T-shirt; the feeling of warm pastry once again fills your heart.

“No worries, doll. I think it’s good for now. Let’s leave them here and check in the morning.” Jake starts putting away his tools before pulling you up and wrapping his arm around your waist, leading you back upstairs.

On your way, something familiar catches your eye. You must’ve missed it earlier.

“Wait, where did you get that?” You stop, pointing at what happens to be a whole case of your favourite snack lying on the kitchen counter.

“Oh, I saw the stores are out of them, so I ordered them online. They just arrived today.” Jake scratches his head, his tone tainted with slight disappointment.“I thought they’d be a nice surprise as stocking stuffers, but…”

You stopped him mid-sentence with a kiss.

“I love you.” This time you said it clear against his lips.

“Oh doll, I love you back,” he smiles, showing the cutest wrinkle on his nose. His hands brush your shoulder as you resume your steps upstairs. “Let’s get a few more hours of sleep now. And when you wake up, you will wake up to some yummy pancakes and a pair of stain-free shoes, huh? How does that sound?”

Oh Lord, that sounds heavenly. That sounds just like home.

“I’d like that, Jake. I’d like that very, very much.”

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Thank you for reading :) any comments and feedbacks are greatly welcomed and deeply appreciated

(The stain-removing tips comes from malccy72 on reddit :D

If you also feel like reading a smutty (but also fluffy?) piece🤭: Mariner's Complex || Love is a four-legged word || The Lucky Ones

or some Christmas fluff: Ticked (all my boxes)

#jake kiskza x reader #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fluff #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka fluff #jake kiszka #jake kiszka fic

[averagewriter-inthedark]

The Old Therebefore 🐍🕊️ | A Six of Crows Imagine

Takes place after the events of S&B S2

My masterlists

Characters & Pairings: gang leader!reader x Crows (platonic). Kaz Brekker x reader (slight tension)

content warnings: profanity, mentions of violence and death, typical SOC themes. | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 4k

Premise: it’s not often Kaz Brekker needs assistance to a job involving anyone other than his Crows. Yet, there is always a first. When a job comes involving not only a high cash prize but also chances of coming out alive slim, Kaz accepts it is out of his skill level. So, what does he do? Take a risk by recruiting his top rival since Pekka Rollins was run out of town….she’s got the charm of a snake with a voice of a songbird. 

Note: so as you can tell by the title of the imagine and song linked, I saw the new hunger games movie (back in November) and literally could not stop thinking about this song/scene. Then of course my hyperfixations like to collide and wallah: here is the end result.

Disclaimer as always: the song and lyrics belong to Suzanne collins and all the SOC characters belong to Leigh Bardugo

---------

“You know, Kaz, I know better than to question you on most things,” Jesper scanned his surroundings, voice low with slight concern. “But I can’t help but wonder why you’ve decided to drag us to the ‘Snake Pit’ tonight.” The sharpshooter sipped his glass of rum after a close inspection, “mind telling us.” 

Seated around him, Inej, Nina, and Wylan expressions bore the same unease. All on high alert the moment Kaz led them through the doors and down the spiral staircase into the Barrel’s infamous Snake Pit. 

Located deep on the opposite side of the Crow Club, the Snake Pit was an underground bar/club. Home of the legendary crime gang, the Blood Serpents. They’d been around since Kaz was 15, their leader to have been the same age as him. Yet the public knew very little of the notorious boss. Only by their code name. 

The Snake Charmer

Of course, this information made Kaz lose his mind at times. Unable to identify his anonymous rival who’s bested him on multiple occasions. If the opportunity arose, Kaz would pay any amount of kruge to find out who the Snake Charmer was. It’d been well over a decade. His patience was running thin.

Finally, the wait would pay off in the form of a messenger boy. 

Knowing Inej was too recognizable, Kaz sent a young member of the Dregs--who was under the radar to the other gangs--to infiltrate the Snake Pit the week prior. The boy returned hours later to relay a crucial piece of information. Now, Kaz was to test that theory. 

Clutching his cane, the crime boss did not spare a glance to his fellow Crows the second they entered the Pit. Even when they took claim to a rounded booth in a far corner by the bar. His attention was occupied. Analyzing the club and its features. Mentally noting the Blood Serpent members, who were identifiable by their red snake tattoos on their hands. 

One of which was the bartender that served them drinks. A young woman about their age, she wore a maroon pin-stripped 5 piece suit although the blazer was forgone. The tattoo was on full display. Kaz assessed her lingering on him when she pushed the tray of drinks toward Jesper. Likely recognizing him and by default the rest of the Crows. The bartender didn’t say anything after, only giving a nod before moving to the next customer. 

To the other Crows, they thought Kaz’s intense stare on the bartender was either because he thought she was attractive or making note she was just another member of the Serpents. But, what they did not know was Kaz figuring out if she was the Snake Charmer.

“A woman?” he questioned the boy, narrowing his eyes. “You are telling me the Snake Charmer--leader of the Blood Serpents--is a woman and works under the guise of an employee at the Snake Pit. Are you positive?”

The boy nodded profusely, “Yes, Mr. Brekker. I can assure you it was no man singing that song. She sounded like a siren if I must say. She calmed the snakes like it was nothing-- I see why they call her Snake Charmer.”

So a woman was responsible for a lot of Kaz’s failures. Not to mention winning the territory he’d hoped to gain when Pekka was defeated. They’d come to a settled agreement through a middle man. An action that annoyed Kaz. But he knew better than to wage war with the Snake Charmer. 

So far the women in the gang he’s managed to identify besides the bartender were two serving girls, a door bouncer, and two poker dealers. A total of six. Of the men, most of them were standing on the walls and mingling along the floor. 

Bet she didn’t expect him to enter her den. 

The Snake Pit was exactly like what the boy described. Dark wood floors and walls up to the high ceilings. Dangling chandeliers, poker tables, two bars on either side. Booths aligned the walls. The most notable and unique trait, however, was the glass snake enclosure right smack in the middle of the floor. It was cylinder shaped at the bottom, lining the floor to the ceiling where it branched out on either side to resemble a tree. Plants and dirt filled it. 

As did ten serpents. Ranging from tiny garden snakes to a python.  

Jesper cringed when his eyes landed on it. Wylan looked deathly afraid. Nina found it amusing. Inej thought it was fitting. Kaz was pleased to see it. To him, that was ammunition.

Kaz answered Jesper with one word that told the whole story, “Business.” 

“What business could you possibly have with the Snake Charmer?” Inej questioned, hand on her side close to her knives. “Don’t you think we should be discussing the plan?”

“And we are,” Kaz rebutted, leaning into the booth with his gaze set on the enclosure. “We’re here to flush out the Snake Charmer.” 

Jesper choked on his drink, meanwhile Nina and Inej looked at Kaz like he was crazy. “You’re fooling us aren’t you?” “Boss, jokes aren’t really your thing--.” “You’re insane, Kaz, if you believe that’ll happen.”

“You see that enclosure?” He cut off their rambling. All responded with a look of, ‘Of course we see the ginormous Snake habitat in the middle of the club full of our enemies.’ Kaz nodded to it, “we need to destroy it.”

Once again, Jesper choked. This time on his saliva. “You’ve lost it,” he ignored the glare from his boss, “Did going through the fold change you, Kaz? Clearly you’re not actually thinking we let loose a dozen snakes,” he leans forward to whisper, “we don’t even know if they’re venomous. If their bites don’t kill us, surely their owner will.” 

Analyzing Kaz, Inej lowered her tone, “what are you not telling us, Kaz?”

Giving one last scan of his surroundings, Kaz addressed his Crows with the truth of why he brought them to the Snake Pit. “I have a lead on who the owner of this establishment is.” Their reactions were immediate, Kaz continued. “A week ago I sent a young messenger boy here to scout out the place--find anything that could help identify the Serpents boss. During closing he snuck into one of their storage closets,” Kaz attempted to locate said closet, somewhere behind one of the bars. 

Kaz paid close attention to the bartender and the poker dealers. “At some point in the night, one of the snakes got loose. Or,” he turned to Jesper and Inej, “my theory is they use those snakes as a means to get information on people.”

“Great,” Nina sighs, “you want us to free the Serpent's torture method. Well done, Brekker. Excellent plan if I must say.” The heartrender received a glare, but Kaz did not entertain it further.

“As I was saying,” his tone was stern, making the others hold onto any additional comments. “The boy overheard the panic of one of the Serpents. Turns out, the Snake Charmer doesn’t take kindly to her pets being mishandled.”

“I can see why,” Jesper mutters, glancing at the enclosure. 

Kaz gripped his cane, watching the female bouncer approach the bartender and exchange words. “He then heard a woman’s voice. Singing.”

Wylan raised a brow, “Singing?”

“Whatever it was, it calmed the snake. Allowed her to return the animal back to its case. The boy said he heard arguing between a couple members who hoped to clean up their mistake before the boss discovered it.” Kaz shifted in his seat, “didn’t end well for them.”

“Did you get a look at her face?” Kaz peered out his office window, facing the direction of the Snake Pit’s location. Moonlight shining down, almost as though the Saints wanted him to see the building. Behind him, he heard the boy clear his throat.

“No, Sir.” He stuttered, tensing at the sight of Kaz lowering his head. “The door didn’t have any cracks or holes I could see through. I tried looking underneath, but only got a glimpse of their shoes.”

Kaz pinched the bridge of his nose, deep in thought. “What happened after she finished singing? How’d you get out?”

“Once the snake was handled, she ordered them to her office. She sounded….calm, but you know how you just know when someone is masking their anger. That’s how it was when she addressed them.” Kaz hummed, indicating he understood the boy’s implication. Considering he was guilty of such.

“And then?”

“I waited a few minutes until I was sure they were gone. The direction they went sounded like it was the far left of the club--opposite side of the spiral staircase that’s both the entrance and exit. I think there's a secret back entrance where they were because when I came out it was completely empty.”

Kaz found the secret back entrance. Camouflaged as a bookcase. He was able to spot the hinges carefully placed to where the light made it difficult to see them. But Kaz Brekker knew the art of illusion in the back of his hand. 

“This is what’s going to happen,” he became serious. The Crows lean in to hear him while maintaining their alert. “We need to expose those snakes from their enclosure. They’ll be our bait. From there we wait. If my theory is correct, those snakes only answer to their master. Or charmer in this case.” Kaz paused to locate the female workers in the club. “Her act as an employee is a ruse.”

Jesper followed his gaze, once again becoming riddled with unease. “You’re implying the Snake Charmer is either the bouncer who let us in, the gal who served our drinks, the serving girls working the floor or one of the poker dealers?”

“That’s exactly what I’m implying, Jesper.”

“Why would she do that?”

Nina snorted, sipping at her whiskey, “Isn’t it obvious?” she didn’t wait for an answer, “no one would pay a second glance to a worker. They are either too drunk or too naive to assume the pretty bartender or serving girl is the boss of one of Ketterdam’s deadly gangs.” She gestured to the serving girl closest to her. “My money’s on her being the Charmer.”

Jesper scoffed, “no way. To be a ghost and retain anonymity all these years you have to have a great poker face.” He states the obvious, “it’s one of the dealers.” 

Inej rolled her eyes, “are you seriously making this a competition?”

“You don’t think it could be the bouncer?” Wylan asked, scratching the back of his neck to relax the tension he felt. 

“No,” Jesper replied with a wave of a hand, “that would be obvious, don’t you think? Although….,” he rubs his chin, “considering they let us in -- and we know how much you and the Snake Charmer have been rivals so to speak all these years, boss -- you don’t think by letting us through that we walked into some sort of trap?”

Inej immediately straightened, “Jes has a point.” Nina stopped munching on her calamari, waiting for Kaz. She too realized the potential threat.

Kaz, however, remained relaxed. “It’s not the bouncer, but I know the Charmer has already been notified of our presence.” Wylan’s worry intensified.

“What makes you think that?”

“As we’ve been talking I noticed all the women working the club have interacted at some point. Some making it obvious to point us out,” He was referring to the bouncer nodding her head to the one serving girl. “Others are more discreet.” That was to the poker dealer and bartender. 

“And yet,” Jesper groans. “You still want us to make a scene. We are literally in a place crawling with snakes--pun not really intended.” the table rolled his eyes at him, save for Wylan who found the joke amusing. “Point is….you want to unleash the Snake Charmer’s serpents into a club full of innocent people--.”

“Innocent,” Nina scoffed under her breath. 

“What if one of us gets bitten?” Jesper kept his gaze on Kaz with mild concern. “I don’t believe for a second the Snake Charmer will kindly hand over the antidote to save our lives. She’ll take pleasure in watching us suffer a horrible death.” Picturing the scene, the sharpshooter downs the rest of his drink, cringing in the process. “Saints, this is not how I pictured I’d die.”

Kaz rolled his eyes, “No one’s dying today. No mourners.” Everyone glanced at each other.

“No funerals.”

“Right then,” It was time to work. “Here’s what we’ll do….”

A prayer slipped past his lips before Jesper inhaled deeply and let the bullet fly. The sound caused gasps from around him, though he was quick to hide the weapon in its holster before one noticed.

“Who did that?!” came a shout from the bouncer. Patrons were already making their way toward the exit. Not wanting to get caught in a crossfire. 

Jesper occupied himself with his rum, glancing over his shoulder to Inej, who signaled to him the bullet did not penetrate the glass completely. Sighing, he downed the contents, waited until it was clear, and shot again. 

The second bullet hit the glass with a loud clunk. Once again alerting the occupants of the Snake Pit. Many searched themselves for any sign of blood for fear they were shot by an unknown assailant. 

“C’mon,” Jesper whispered, peering at the enclosure. He saw the evidence of his bullet, a chip in the glass near the bottom. If he could time it right, without someone getting in the way, he’d hit the mark. 

Meanwhile employees of the club were trying to calm the crowd, “everyone please remain--.” Another shot rang out, more shouts echoing. Kaz’s patience was running thin. Their door to escape started to close as he noticed the security begin to close in on the Crows. No doubt suspecting they were to blame for the chaos. 

Kaz Brekker coming to the Snake Pit with his most trusted advisors for only a drink? Yeah right.

Then, almost in slow motion, the sound best described as ice cracking filled his ears. All eyes turned to the enclosure. Fear surfacing as they witnessed spiderwebs painting the glass. Then all hell broke loose when the glass gave way, allowing the beasts freedom from their isolation. 

Screams ensued. People climbing from the floors onto tables and chairs. Hissing from the snakes intensified the hysteria. Kaz even found himself moving when the python pivoted in his direction. Jesper of course found himself on top of a chair the moment the glass shattered. Inej was high up on a balcony on the opposite side of the club. How did she get up there? No one knew. Wyalan was close to Jesper. He too found safety on a stool. Nina meanwhile was listening to the heartbeats around here. The number decreased each time a patron made it up the staircase and out the door. 

Seconds passed and no sight of the Snake Charmer. Kaz was getting worried. Fearing the plan was a failure. His worry increased when he found himself scurrying on top of a poker table. Distracted with trying to find the workers he suspected of being the Snake Charmer to realize the cobra had got close to him. Had he not acted fast, the man’s leg would’ve fallen victim to its fangs. Catching Jesper’s eye, they shared the concern evident in their expressions. Wondering just how the fuck they were going to escape the situation. 

Suddenly his prayers were answered in the form of an angelic voice. Causing the screams to disappear…..

“You’re heading for heaven, 

The sweet old hereafter, 

And I’ve got one foot in the door. 

But before I can fly up, 

I’ve loose ends to tie up, 

Right here in The Old Therebefore.”

Heads turned, facing the direction of the sound. Their expressions turned into pure shock. Kaz may have had his suspicions, but it still came as a shock to discover he was right all along. 

Ketterdam’s notorious crime boss, leader of the Blood Serpents….was the Snake Pit’s bartender. 

Walking around the bar, crunching against the glass of broken bottles on the floor from the hysteria of customers fleeing to get away from the snakes, the woman kept her gaze on slithering animals. The hissing continued as she inched closer, however she did not seem fazed at all. Her singing continued.

“I’ll be along, 

When I’ve finished my song, 

When I’ve shut down the band, 

When I’ve played out my hand, 

When I’ve paid all my debts, 

When I have no regrets, 

Right here in The Old Therebefore. 

When nothing is left anymore.”

The hissing got quieter. The animals turning so they were in line with the woman. Slithering slowly but surely toward her. Confirming to everyone she was their master. Their charmer.

Off to the side, a few of the Blood Serpents rushed in with crates. Pushing people aside. Meanwhile the woman got to her knees, leveling down to the snakes who were now moving toward her. Eyes locked, face serious. The Snake Charmer was obviously trying to keep herself together. But Kaz felt the rage seep off of her. 

“I’ll catch you up, 

When I’ve emptied my cup, 

When I’ve worn out my friends, 

When I’ve burned out both ends, 

When I’ve cried all my tears, 

When I’ve conquered my fears, 

Right here in The Old Therebefore. 

When nothing is left anymore.”

The snakes smaller in size slithered up her outstretched arms. Covering both limbs in a tangle of scales. One slithering up to encase her neck, almost like a necklace. The Cobra took claim to her waist. The python circled her, almost like it contemplated joining its fellow serpents. 

Around Kaz, he made out the faint gasps of customers who had yet to depart. Glancing around, he witnessed them all in states of shock and awe. Even his Crows were at a loss of words. 

As was he.

The Snake Charmer’s voice turned strong. Echoing through the entire club as she belted out the next verse. Bringing chills to everyone’s arms.

“I’ll bring the news, 

When I’ve danced off my shoes, 

When my body’s closed down, 

When my boat’s run around, 

When I’ve tallied the score,

 And I’m flat on the floor, 

Right here in The Old Therebefore. 

When nothing is left anymore.”

Rising from the ground, she was covered by the creatures. Her python has wrapped itself around her leg. Its tail was on the floor while its head perched by where the cobra had secured itself on her belt. From the neck down the Snake Charmer was a sight to behold. Revealing why the nickname was not only because she was the leader of a gang filled with snakes. 

It was because she was gifted with the talent of charming their namesake.

Moving toward her subordinates holding crates, no doubt to keep the animals contained, the woman passionately sang the final verse. Giving it all she had. 

“When I’m pure like a dove, 

When I’ve learned how to love.”

Tone dropping, she leaned to lower the snakes into the crates. Gently as though they were newborn babies. Kaz caught her stoke the pythons head, her singing so low it was good the place was dead quiet. 

Right here in The Old Therebefore. 

When nothing is left anymore.”

Finally, after what felt like forever, the snakes were safely stored in the crates. Lids dropping shut with the gang members hurrying from the floor to transport them to another room. No one moved. Any and all eyes focused on the woman in the pinstripe suit. Back turned to the Crows and other patrons, but from the fearful look of her door bouncers, everyone silently prayed they’d make it to the morning. 

Moving her neck in a circle, a low crack from the joints that had been stiff, she slowly turned to face the audience. A clenched jaw and fury in her eyes made it clear what was going through her mind. Especially to Kaz, who was fighting to not look away when she instantly met his gaze.

Oh, she knew alright.

“Well…” the Charmer’s tone sent chills along the Crows' bodies. “You’ve certainly got my attention, Mr. Brekker.” Her spite was evident. Complete rage. Likely planning every means of torture she wished to bestow on her rival and his comrades. 

It was so quiet. So thrilling. Nobody dared to move a muscle. Patrons watching the stare down between the King, and now the unmasked Queen, of the Barrel. It was captivating yet terrifying. Wondering who would make the first move, and if it will end in a blood bath.

Then she snapped, “Everyone out!!” The floor cleared in seconds. Leaving only Serpents and Crows. They knew better than to attempt an escape. Plus the moment their boss addressed Kaz, the Serpents had circled them to prevent any sudden attack. 

Kaz remained composed. Watching closely as the Snake Charmer moved to the bar to pour herself a drink. “Before I kill you, Kaz Brekker, and your little birds too,” she did not look at him, paying attention to the liquid filling the glass. He tightened his jaw. “I want to hear you explain to me why you brought yourselves to my club,” bringing the glass to her lips, she downed half the alcohol in one gulp. Drawing her eyes up to make contact with him, “And destroyed my babies' home.”

Her footsteps echoed, walking toward the center of the floor where Kaz stood. “You’re a smart man.” She took another sip, this time slower. “Not only did you manage to draw me into the light, but you knew exactly how to do so.” A smirk plastered on Kaz’s face. A bold move considering the threat lingering at displaying his smugness to the Serpent Queen. Her lips were in a thin line, “What brings you to my den?”

Straightening his posture, Kaz stepped closer. Their distance is only a mere foot from one another. Making everyone--Crows and Serpents alike--suffocating from the tension between the two. 

“You won’t be killing us tonight, Charmer.” If only he knew her real name. Only having her title felt like she had some reign on him. Superior in a sense. The whole Barrel knew him as Dirtyhands, but Kaz Brekker had his own reputation. For her, people can now put a face to the name Snake Charmer. A beautiful woman with the voice of an angel. So powerful it made snakes bend to her will. 

Also, people would be shaken by the fact the deadly gang leader served them drinks during their visits to the Snake Pit. Hidden in plain sight. Listening to them spill their drunken secrets. 

Kaz leaned closer, the scent of her perfume hitting his nostrils. Jasmine. A flower known to attract snakes. He understood why she wore it. The smell was alluring. As was her presence, but Kaz dismissed the thought as quick as it came. “Doing so will result in you losing an important job I’m willing to negotiate your assistance on. Believe me, the reward is more than generous--enough for the both of us to share.” Now he got her attention, confirmed by the way her head slightly tilted, brow raised. 

“Humor me, Brekker.”

“Have you ever heard of jurda parem?”

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker #kaz brekker x y/n #six of crows #six of crows imagine #six of crows fanfic #kaz brekker fanfic #shadow and bone #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone imagine #Spotify

[sanest-bsd-delegate]

Childhood dreams

Headcanon: Where your kid has the most awesome parents ever ft Dazai, Chuuya and Ango Masterlist Please look at the request rules in masterlist before requesting This headcanon is so cute that I wasn't able to decide who to take. Any recommendations?

Dazai:

Congratulations. This man lived enough to see his kid grow (fuck i remember his face when he fell from the elevator beaten up now)

Am sorry but he will make sure his kids aren't traumatized like the other kids. (He can have that redemption okay?)

But if his kid does something wrong, he would be giving them a strict Port mafia Dazai glare.

His kid likes girls? No problem. His kid likes boys? No problem. His kid like Chuuya's kid? NO.(but he wouldn't say so, he's a babygorl)

He would surely have sticker battle with his kid online, and whenever you go through either of the chats, you will get to see convos in stickers. (You are scared that they have it used as a secret language)

Now this is Dazai we are talking about. He will make sure, that his kid don't make someone/get pregnant. He will be the one giving him the talk. He doesn't care what gender his kid is, the talk is the talk.

Lets be honest, his coats will be stolen by his kid.

If you ask him to pick your kid up, He make sure to bring Atsushi around, babygorl cant drive properly.

*leans on broken* He gives Sugar dad vibes for real.

Teenage hormones are ranging, girls and guys of your kid's school have declared him a DILF, but that doesn't stop them form calling you hawt.

Your kid is made up of the best genes, of course they are going to be the most crushable person in their school. Dazai has information on everyone and he make sure his kid doesn't get catfished or stalked.

Dazai often forget to pick his kid up from school.

Dazai makes sure his kid knows about Oda, rather Odasaku and how great he was.

He will make sure that you all least have dinner dine out once a while.

Family bonds>>

"Dad what is this?" "PUT THAT DOWN" "Y/N I am sure-" "No"

If you ever have fights with either of those two, both of them will be sleeping on the couch.

"Dad I want a dog" "What was the name of the kid who sits next to you?"

You babysit two idiots on weekends. But they are your idiots and you love them.

Chuuya:

He makes sure his kid doesn't get a wine addiction. Little did he knew, his kid was holding his wine bottle thinking its a rattle toy as a baby.

he and his kid would have late night talks about life and he often would make sure his kid never hides stuff from him. (Am pretty sure he isn't that evil to invade his kid's privacy and stalk but there is always a what if )

If your kid decides to join Mafia, then well, he cant deny not to, considering he himself is in Mafia. But he'll make sure the kid doesn't pull 'I wanna join Mafia' in their early 15s. Like just no

Your kid likes his father more then anything. Like Chuuya is the best father to exist.

He makes sure his kid gets the best of clothes and facilities.

For some reason, your baby thinks Akutagawa is funny. You are getting concerned.

His kid would hold his dad and will never leave him. (Baby grip is strong fr.)

Once Chuuya was told to pick his kid from high school, and oh lord, the screams from the girls were just um. (One of them asked in which section he was in [damn his height])

His kid is taller then him. Periodt. Guess genes works a weird way.

He make sure his kid stay away from Dazai as far as possible, but at the end of the day he would be seeing his wife, kid and his rival playing UNO while screaming lyrics of Do I wanna know.

He makes sure his teenage kid just stay out of trauma he faced. He makes sure the teen feels human. (Anyways)

Meals made by him and your child>>>>

He gladly used his ability and make his kid fly around him when you told him to babysit him once.

He is more of a mother than a father. Kid's crying? kiss their boo boos and hit whatever hurt them.

Please, teens are rebellious and when it comes to your kid, his anger level is like your husband.

But Chuuya loves his family, and he would totally be the one lowkey crying when he attends his kid's wedding.

"My kid has grown up" "Our kid Chuuya" "Are you trying to propose a communist agenda?" "No but the wedding brings back our old memories."

Ango:

I wanted to say the kid never saw his father but that wouldn't be counted as fluff

This man right here, whenever returns home, is hugged by his kid. His hearts goes UwU as you kiss him on cheeks after. 10/10 day brightened.

Now I am not saying he is like Kunikida, but he makes sure his kid has discipline in life.

PLEASE HE WILL MAKE SURE HIS KID HAS A PROPER SLEEP CYCLE OF 8 HOURS.

His kid would flex his father's job. Like "My father works with the government, if you hit me I will make sure you all in Jail"

He would totally dropping off his kid since the kid started to go to school, and still does.

Ango will make sure his kid sees his father enough.

Ango is a lowkey strict parent but he will make sure his kid aren't suffering

He actually cares about mental health so much

he might as well have dad talks like Chuuya

Now his kid cant lie in front of his father. Ango knows it all.

He will make sure he arrives home in time for family dinner.

Your kid respects him, and might have developed 'Ango validation' disorder.

His kid makes sure to make his father proud. (Who are you again?)

Awww your heart goes UwU when you see both of them interact.

"DADDD I WON THE MATCH" "Congratulations, that's wonderful isn't it Y/N?" "It is, Lets eat dinner out then!" UwU family moments>>>

Loves his Family ofc.

You would have bodygaurds outside the house, cause please he doesnt want you our your child hurt because of his work.

Dazai was almost beaten by the bodygaurd because of his looks.

"Dad, who is this man?" "That was a friend of mine...I lost him a long ago" "Awww dont worry! You still have the same number of friend because I will be you friend" Ango and your 5 yr kid convos>>>>

Ango loves to give his kid kisses on forehead.

Nothing just.

<33

This fanfictions made my heart melt. And damn, this was the longest headcanon I probably wrote ever

#bsd #bsd x reader #dazai x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd fluff #bsd headcanons #bungo stray dogs #dazai osamu #dazai hcs #dazai fluff #bungou stray dogs #bungou sd #bsd dazai #bungo stray dogs dazai #bungou stray dogs manga #bungo stray dogs headcanons #dazai #bsd s4 #port mafia #osamu dazai #bsd chuuya #chuuyabsd #chuuya x reader #chuuya scenarios #chuuya nakahara #ango sakaguchi #bsd ango #ango x reader #chuuya x you #dazai x yn

[haunthouse]

text from the lyric booklet of jenny from thebes:

JENNY USED TO LET ABSOLUTELY ANYBODY CRASH AT HER PLACE. IT WAS LIKE A YEAR-ROUND CHRISTMAS MIRACLE. IF YOU HAD ANY SECRETS, SHE DIDN'T WANT TO KNOW, AND THE ONES SHE HAD SHE KEPT TO HERSELF. THERE WAS A WALL HEATER DOWN AT ONE END OF THE HALLWAY AND A BIG, DARK LIVING ROOM AT THE OTHER. ONE ELECTRIC LAMP BY THE COUCH IF YOU NEEDED IT, ALL EXITS VISIBLE TO THE EYE FROM THERE. SOME OF THE PEOPLE WHO HAD NEED OF JENNY'S PLACE WERE ALL RIGHT AND SOME WEREN'T EVER GOING TO GET RIGHT, AND SHE'D ALREADY GOTTEN SEVERAL LETTERS FROM THE CITY ADVISING HER TO KEEP A LOWER PROFILE UNLESS SHE WANTED TROUBLE BUT THEN I ENTERED THE PICTURE. BAD LUCK. LIKE EVERYBODY ELSE WHO CAME THROUGH I WAS TRYING TO FIND A BETTER DIRECTION BUT IT DIDN'T WORK OUT THAT WAY. PRYING EYES SHOULD HAVE TENDED TO THEIR OWN BUSINESS. PEOPLE DON'T THINK TOWNS LIKE OURS CAN TURN INTO BATTLEGROUNDS BUT WE HAD A WAR HERE. THERE. I DON'T LIVE THERE ANY MORE EITHER. I LEFT WHEN JENNY LEFT. IT'S JUST A SPOT ON THE MAP NOW. WE RODE TOGETHER FOR A WHILE BUT THEN WE LOST EACH OTHER. SOMETIMES I THINK I HEAR FROM HER BUT OTHER TIMES I THINK I'M JUST DREAMING. NOBODY KNOWS WHERE ANYBODY LANDED. YOU DON'T KEEP IN TOUCH WHEN THE WAR DOESN'T GO YOUR WAY.

transcribed above in the original all-caps, but here's a regular text version for easier reading:

Jenny used to let absolutely anybody crash at her place. It was like a year-round Christmas miracle. If you had any secrets, she didn't want to know, and the ones she had she kept to herself. There was a wall heater down at one end of the hallway and a big, dark living room at the other. One electric lamp by the couch if you needed it, all exits visible to the eye from there. Some of the people who had need of Jenny's place were all right and some weren't ever going to get right, and she'd already gotten several letters from the city advising her to keep a lower profile unless she wanted trouble but then I entered the picture. Bad luck. Like everybody else who came through I was trying to find a better direction but it didn't work out that way. Prying eyes should have tended to their own business. People don't think towns like ours can turn into battlegrounds but we had a war here. There. I don't live there any more either. I left when Jenny left. It's just a spot on the map now. We rode together for a while but then we lost each other. Sometimes I think I hear from her but other times I think I'm just dreaming. Nobody knows where anybody landed. You don't keep in touch when the war doesn't go your way.

text on tracklist:

CLEAN SLATE — New arrival at the safehouse GROUND LEVEL — There was, en route to greener pastures, a small house in the city ONLY ONE WAY — They consider one another in the often harsh light of how the world is FRESH TATTOO — She commemorates her present station on her forearm CLEANING CREW — The next best thing to an actual goodbye MURDER AT THE 18TH STREET GARAGE — Behold, you may not rezone my house --- FROM THE NEBRASKA PLANT — The future, seen from a hard place SAME AS CASH — she trades in her old car and buys a Kawasaki GPz 750 Turbo WATER TOWER — She disposes of the body JENNY III — The future, seen with great clarity GOING TO DALLAS — As far as anyone's concerned GREAT PIRATES — The future they both deserve

#the mountain goats #tmg #kaylee.txt #i love to zoom in on images and read the text. thought other people might also like to read these without having to zoom on images #under the cut is a not allcaps version + the bonus text thats on the tracklist #jenny from thebes

[bearsintreesofficial]

hi bears in trees guys i am in a band have a question: how do you guys organize songwriting credits for your lyrics since ian and callum both contribute to writing words? we’re trying to figure out legal stuff and it’s a whoooole confusing mess

any advice would be really appreciated thanks!!!!

hi! you mean iain and nick* - we write the lyrics. in terms of songwriting: as far as we're concerned that covers lyrical content as well as melody, composition of parts, playing of those parts, etc. so we split songwriting credits for absolutely EVERY song equally - the song would not be a bears in trees song without the way george plays drums, callum sings, and also allows credit for the way a song's structure can shift through feedback.

we are lucky that we operate in a band where we were all friends first and are comfortable in this scenario, but it's generally reflective on how reliant we are on eachother to do this. if you are friends with the people you are writing with and everyone in the band wants the same level of involvement, i'd encourage you to do it equally when you submit songwriting credits because i think that's the nicest way to do it.

there are some bands where not everyone is involved in the writing process or where it's accepted that certain people contribute more than others - this isn't something i have experience on so couldn't advise on that.

thanks for asking, it's an important/confusing world to tackle and i don't think artists get the chance to talk about it enough!

[ivoncu]

𝗜 𝗪𝗔𝗡𝗡𝗔 𝗕𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗕𝗢𝗬𝗙𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗗 ! — Tsukinaga Leo x reader

xxx. PLAYLIST . I wanna be your boyfriend by Hot Freaks.

— he loves you, yet he is never able to voice out what he felt towards you... But all he needs is a little push from a friend whether it was intentional or not.

xx. c : use of gender neutral terms, gender is not mentioned/specified for reader. insane levels of yearning from leo tsukinaga and some level of doubts and insecurity with him. wrote at like 10 pm on a weekday so this might be shitty, not proofread — might be ooc !

note . this is completely different from the beta... but i think i like this version better. i wrote leo as 'cool' instead of his usual 'cuteness' in mind. he's still just as pathetic though :3 maybe pathetically cool

It's a mystery how his mind works, and much less was it a miracle for him to realize everything. From the start, his feelings weren't always as platonic as he'd thought towards you. The realization alone sends him into a frenzy of denial and childishly denying his ever-growing crush on you yet always throwing a childish tantrum and sulking around his friends whenever he sees someone getting a bit too cozy with you to his liking.

Nonetheless, Leo realizes — he can't just sulk behind a corner without doing anything while hoping you'll look at him the same way as he does if he doesn't do something about it. Oh, but was it hard to even look at you in the eyes; the thought alone sends his heart into frantically thumping against his chest; his face become hotter and redder while stutter he did pathetically over his words and waste his chances... It's really no good! He wants to seem cool in front of you, but he just can never muster up the courage at all, it's annoying!

His friends were to help and give him advices when it comes to love, but none of it were exactly trying to help him. “ Be cool ” — Leo simply could not. “ Try to strike up a conversation about something you two have a common interest with! ” — if that happens, he's afraid he'll go on rambling until he talks your ears off and you'll find him annoying because of it! “ Buy them whatever they want as a gift ” — now, he isn't exactly sure if he has the type of money to do that... “ Trick them into signing a marriage contract and cling onto them forever ” — that'll just drive you away!! Leo's even more concern now, and his friends' advice weren't making him any less confident in talking to you!

To you, Leo was just a friend you occasionally see and to him, you were his whole world — one he would be more than willing to serve his heart on a silver platter to as he yearns from the side. Truly were you his love — his muse; his everything and unbeknownst to you, he had written a song or two unpublished to the public with the thought of you in mind. He grows frustrated amidst his embarrassment much to his dislike of acknowledging it.

... The sweet melody and cheesy lyrics of “ love ” — he feels like a fool! Occasionally he would lose his cool and throw the stacks of paper everywhere across and in deafening silence, he dealt with his own thoughts; how embarrassing. He's seriously doing everything but telling you how he feels.

Even as the corner of his phone lights up the dimly lit room, on the screen shows across the room with your contact number messaging him. He suppose even if he could never confess his love for you romantically, you like him just the same “ platonically? ”

He would be fine (in his words, but he is ABSOLUTELY NOT) with only liking you from afar... That is if you aren't also dating anyone else — he would go insane if you're suddenly dating someone else, and that's the conclusion his mind thought of when suddenly you had gotten so close to that Izumi Sena.

Never once had Izumi ever showed romantic interest towards you; in five people (Knights)— he obviously loves and yearned for you the most and the longest. It wasn't like they weren't aware of it. They knew you were completely off limits ever since the first time he confessed to wanting to do the cheesiest things with you to them they got sick and tired of it.

And yet, his mind he thought you like him romantically — and so did Izumi. You two were laughing at each other's joke and you were beautiful like that; bright eyes and smiling... A sudden feeling of dreadful doubt dropped down his stomach and just as suddenly he felt so sick even if it was just his insecurities.

He thought so too; maybe he's overreacting. Maybe there's nothing going on in between you two, he's sure of it! That's what he tells himself, but slowly this banter went on for days and slowly turned into weeks of utter torture for him. He saw you exchanging contacts, plan on hanging out together — and he felt jealous.

He never liked this feeling of jealousy — especially towards a dear friend like him, but with confusing emotions mixed together came unassumed anger of jealousy. His patience doesn't last long until he gets sick and tired of it and came in between you two with a glare that might've sent chills down Sena's back a bit.

Leo took your hand and ran away with you from him; dragging you far away to somewhere outside the building until his leg gives out — alas, there was only you two all alone on the park as the sun slowly sets into dusk. There was nothing going in the way between you two now.

"I'm sorry for dragging you away like that all of the sudden." He muttered, unable to look at you not for the reason may he make a fool of himself if he stares too long; but instead out of guilt overwhelming his heart.

"... But, I really can't stand it anymore, you know? I see you laughing and being happy with Sena... I want to do that with you. I want to laugh along with you and be happy just as you were with him, so I got jealous...

... This might be selfish, but I really really liked you from the start! I know compared to Sena, I'm childish and all I'm good at is writing music — he's better fit as a "boyfriend" compared to I do, but I really... Like you, [Name]! And I really wanna be your boyfriend!" All these times, the words, the doubts — he was suddenly spilling them out loud to you and he was just as surprised as you. For the first time in a while, his heart feels light from burden despite the nervousness he felt, thus he continued to spoke;

"I might not be as good as Sena — or a pretty model, but I could treat you as half as decently — if not better than he ever could! I'll even compliment you frequently if that's what you want — no, I'll compliment you a lot! " Leo's eyes lit up with sincerity and for the first time, there was confidence and a look of seriousness in his eyes as he looked into yours while gently clasping your hands in his, but he feared he was being a bit overbearing and pushy and his confidence slowly fizzled away.

"Please... Think about it, alright? Because I really like you; I truly do." His tone were calmer, but there's also a melancholic hymn to his voice despite how he tries to force out a smile to you.

He's always the happy go-lucky guy — eccentric in ways, but he always had the purest intentions in his heart. It would be kind of embarrassing if he breaks down in front of you all of the sudden.

He can't stay any longer; if he stays, he's afraid he wouldn't be able to control his emotions any longer. Slowly, he lets go of your hand and exchanged one final glance before trying to walk away — but just as that, you held onto his wrist and pulled him back which surprised him.

"Leo, don't be like that... You didn't even give me the chance to reply." You muttered, your gaze softens looking at him and he simply couldn't look away... You're just so beautiful to him.

"I like you just the same. I'm sorry for making you feel bad all these times — I... Didn't realize."

Your look of sadness sends him into frenzy, he stutters from nervousness because of you.

"H-huh...? Why're you apologizing? It should be me who's apologizing — plus, it's my fault for keeping my emotions hidden all these time from you! You didn't knew at all!"

"... You know, Leo; I had a hunch you liked me... And it wasn't like you were being discrete about it anyway."

"Ah..." Leo stays still, completely surprised. Well, it is true he couldn't keep his emotions from spilling out sometimes, but he was so sure he was being discrete about his feelings for you. He wasn't sure how to react; was he supposed to be embarrassed? Sad? Angry? Even amidst his confusion, he finds amusement in his own embarrassment. He laughs aloud, and it was like he didn't had the saddest look of melancholy in his eyes just a moment ago.

With a big grin on his face, he soon falls onto you with all of his weight and hugged you tightly. The mature and cool Tsukinaga Leo is in touch with his emotions was no longer there; he was now the childish and impatient Leo you knew from the start — and yet, that never changed a thing of how you felt towards him.

"Leo...!" You groan out, stumbling back slightly at the sudden force of his weight against you. He was using his every weight on his body towards you.

"Aha, I just can't help it — I'm so happy, [Name]! I'm really so happy!" He giggles, but his fit of energy quickly dissipates as he gently leans in closer to you, wrapping an arm securely around your waist so you wouldn't escape his hug while his other hand gently intertwine with yours.

"... Let's be together forever, [Name]."

#𓏲🗒️ꜝֶָ֢ 𓈒᮫ 𝐈𝐕 𝑜𝑓 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 #ensemble stars x reader #enstars x reader #leo tsukinaga x reader #leo tsukinaga #enstars