#like i recognise she's a 20 year old making music for teenagers so that is. appropriate.

[thedreadvampy]

I tried listening to Olivia Rodrigo and I'm sure this is really good for its target audience of Teen Girls Going Through A Breakup but has she actually ever put out a song that isn't about a guy cheating, breaking up with her and moving on to someone else?

like babe he's not coming back it's been 2 years you gotta find something else in your life

#red said #it's not to my taste. tbh #content aside pop music is going through a very early 2000s breathy oversinging phase #hated it with xtina and alanis hate it with ariana and olivia sorry #it's a personal taste thing but to me however hard you go with the backing track that kind of soft pretty vocal style kind of #drags it back into midtempo sludge for me #also tbh it's just extremely normal music. like i went over to her yt bc people were talking about how Weird vampire is #it's not though????? it's super not???? #anyway the only one I've got anything out of is good 4 u cause she sounds more involved and less self-pitying on it #every other Olivia song I've heard sounds kinda the same bc they all have the same earnest self-pity vibe #which is what a lot of people need out of music! music that makes them feel the depth of their anger and sadness! #but idk it's never done it for me i like there to be something of a tongue in cheek or a hysterical edge #i think most of the songs I've heard from her are just too controlled and polished for them to not sound to me #like she's the person who sees you crying cause your partner is in hospital and goes YEAH I KNOW HOW YOU FEEL #MY EX CHEATED ON ME 5 YEARS AGO AND IT REALLY TRAUMATISED ME AND I'M STILL NOT OVER IT and then you have to comfort her #like i recognise she's a 20 year old making music for teenagers so that is. appropriate. #but i struggled with the wallowing then too. were i a Teen at school with Olivia's character i would be so desperate to tell GROW UP #and it's not the lyrics it really is the music #heartbreak is a perfectly good theme to write on but oh my god not every song about it needs to be a mouthful call to arms

[around1302]

YOU WROTE ME

SPARE PARTS: blurb 1/1

THE TROUBADOUR, LONDON

(W) strong language, alcohol use, brief smut: if u can call it that

THIRD PERSON’S POV

9 MONTHS POST-SPLIT

“Why can’t you just trust that it’ll be fun?”

“Because you don’t even know who’s playing! What if it’s some screamo guy and I get traumatised.”

“Please, Charlie, you’ve met my friend. You think he’s going to guitar for a screamo guy?”

Charlie pauses, remembering everything she can from the brief meeting between her and Becca’s friend at her house party last week.

“Yes. Yes I do.”

Becca rolls her eyes, nodding in gratitude at the bouncers who let them into the Troubadour, past the lines and lines of people. Charlie has to admit that’s promising, at least. Surely a hundred teenage girls wouldn’t be queueing for something unworthwhile.

“I thought as a musician you’d be buzzing for a free invite to the Troub!”

Charlie’s turn to roll her eyes, now.

“The Troub?”

“Let me pretend I’m in on the lingo, too.”

“God, you’re just making it worse.”

Becca is Charlie’s only remaining friend from her pre-band days. In contact far too little, but enough to see each other in between schedules. Becca manages a restaurant in London, and throws killer house parties every Saturday. It’s ritual.

Of course, with band life, Charlie barely ever attended. But since the split and a (much too long) nine month hiatus from the industry, she’s had a little more time for living her 20s like she never entered that competition in the first place.

“You want a drink?” Becca shouts over the already loud crowd. Just as Charlie opens her mouth to answer, her forearm’s gripped so tightly she’s sure the blood supply’s been cut off.

“Oh my God! Charlie Greene?” A girl practically screams in her face, holding the hand that isn’t keeping Charlie there in a death grip over her mouth.

Despite her usually extreme routine when it comes to being avoided in public, Charlie assumed tonight could be a one off. Who would recognise her in this crowd, in this venue? Panic strickens her before Becca has to step in, shoving the girls palm off.

“Dude, don’t touch strangers like that.”

“Sorry, sorry, I’m just such a huge fan. I can’t believe you’re here! We all thought they were just rumours.”

“What?” Charlie’s dumbfound, forgetting all that media-trained ‘smile at the fans, don’t let them know you want to punch them’ bullshit.

“You know, you and–”

“Look, I’m sure you’re a nice kid, but we’re just trying to enjoy our night. You want me to buy you some alcohol to get you to go away?”

“Becca–”

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, of course. E-enjoy your night.”

The poor girl scurries away, screaming something to her group but Charlie’s too riddled with guilt to hear what.

“For fuck’s sake, Becs, she’s like sixteen!”

“Gripped you like a forty year old WWE champ though, look at your arm!”

Charlie glances down, noticing the white and red splotches beneath the hazy blue lights. Becca has a point, even if she was a little harsh about it.

“Screw the drinks, let’s just get backstage before anyone else tries to cut off your circulation.”

Nodding, Charlie follows Becca through the crowd, making sure to keep her head down this time. Of course they’re asked for IDs and stage passes before getting through, Becca proudly letting security know they’re friends of the guitarist.

“I’m so proud of Mitch, man. He’s come so far. Can you believe he used to work in a pizza shop?”

“I know, it’s impressive shit,” Charlie nods, hugging her hoodie tight to her chest. Something bad swirls in her gut as she watches the audience from the safety of a thick curtain, seeing whispers and screams shared.

“You don’t think that’s about me, do you?” She points for Becca. Becca scoffs.

“Nah, don’t get too up your own ass, Char. The act’s probably about to come on.”

The band will be entering from stage left, opposite to them both. Charlie has to admit she’s curious. It’s been forever since she’s attended any kind of underground gig, it’s exciting – what music’s really about.

“Gemma Styles.”

Until that moment.

Ears ringing, throat drying, sweat forming. Charlie grips her hoodie so tight her knuckles blanch – she’s wrong, she has to be. It’s just her mind and anxiety playing tricks on her. It’d be impossible for–

“No way, Charlie?”

“Fuck.”

“… Charlie?”

“I mean hi! Sorry, hi!”

Pretending her ears aren’t still painfully ringing, Charlie accepts the open arms of the woman in front of her. Specifically, the sister in front of her. Her ears stop buzzing enough for her to hear Becca’s gasp beside her, and enough to hear her heart coming up through her throat.

“I can’t believe you’re here, it’s so good to see you!”

The one thing Charlie never understood was how Harry could be so intolerable and Gemma could be so… Gemma. Despite the ugliest truth she’s discovered in a while coming undone, she feels somewhat comforted by her hug and her words and her smile.

Perhaps they’re all a little too alike Harry, or perhaps the opposite. She can’t tell. There’s a lot happening.

“Yeah, um…” at a complete loss for words, Becca quickly steps in.

“Hi, I’m Rebecca. Friends with the guitarist.”

“Oh, Mitch! Isn’t he amazing? I’m Gemma, Harry’s sister.”

“Jesus, I’m sorry.”

Charlie shoots Becca a pointed glare. She apologises again, a little more sincerely this time.

“So does Harry know you’re here? Bet he’s thrilled, are the others here?”

“Um, no. And no. Not that I know of. I’m actually here for Mitch, too.”

“Oh, I–” Gemma frowns, understandably confused, but is cut off by the house lights dimming and some opening music starting.

Charlie pinches at her arm beneath the once soft material, it only now feels scratchy and too thick. Should she run? It seems like her only viable option. Except her feet are failing her and it’s too fucking late because–

“Hi everyone! I’m Harry, it’s a pleasure. This is my wonderful band, and we’re going to play a few songs for you. Starting with a new one, this is Complicated Freak.”

Frozen to her place, Charlie listened harbouring feelings she couldn’t quite place. Part of her wishes she had just done those few shots before she left like Becca had quite smartly suggested, but a larger part of her wishes she never came.

Because fuck, has she missed him.

She’s missed his voice, and his hands, and his eyes, and his dimples, and she could say she’s missed his hair but that’s gone with the last nine months. She missed watching him concentrate entirely too hard on playing the guitar and she missed watching that crease form between his brows as he closes his eyes and just feels the music. His music.

The music that sounds eerily familiar. Then suddenly flashes of a tour bus come to mind; long hair and slender fingers strumming a guitar. Lyrics that rendered a little to close to home but were promptly ignored at the time now echo the venue, echo her chest.

“Thank you so, so much everyone. I’ll see you soon!”

Harry lifts his palm to the roaring crowd, intimate and small yet still as deafeningly loud as she remembers them always being for him. Begging for an encore, or at the very least one more wave.

But it’s only then that she realises, still stuck to the floor, that he’s taking his guitar off. He’s offering the audience one final bow and kiss, and he’s turning, and he’s walking, and he’s grinning ear to ear and accepting his friends and family’s congratulations, and then he’s stopping, and he’s staring, and his lungs have stopped and his heart has faltered and–

“You wrote me.”

His lips quiver, paused in an effort to say the right thing. Say anything.

“Yeah, I…”

It’s as if the venue and people around them grew wings and flew away as time itself stopped just for them. The first time they had seen eye to eye in the time you could grow a whole fucking baby for God’s sake – and yet they could barely speak. So much unsaid, it’s almost too much. What do you start to say to the love of your life – who you lost?

Luckily, the people around them didn’t actually grow wings.

“We’ll see you later, H,” his older sister squeezes his dead arm, nodding towards Charlie (as if she saw) and then the other confused onlookers who had developed behind them during the show but fuck if Charlie noticed.

Gemma leads the group out, leaving the pair of them in a silent standoff, the muted sound of a dying crowd and crew starting to clean punctuating the quiet.

“Drink?”

“I wanted to call you so many times.” Charlie finally admits, three double vodkas deep.

“Why didn’t you?” Harry almost whispers four whiskeys in.

Malibu’s, their old, usual haunt, has been avoided for the last nine months. Not a single band member dared to go, whether it be that Zayn no longer bartends there or that they were afraid of memories. But it felt like the only place for them to be right now. Elbows leant on the same sticky counter, knees pressed together in their tipsy mis-care, no time passed yet the whole world between them.

“I was scared.” Charlie begins. “I needed time, and after I realised that you leaving us didn’t really matter in the end, I was too late.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Come on, Harry. I saw the tabloids. A month after we split you were seen with this person, that person. You had moved on from us, from me.”

Her confession is startlingly sobering, and Harry can’t help but gulp down a painful lump at the way her eyes water. Harry hadn’t moved on in any sense of the word, Harry was simply trying to find Charlie in anyone he could. The way in which he had coped with his web of feelings for the woman for the past six and a half years.

“I could never move on from you, Char. I was just… lost.”

Charlie snorts, turning to down the rest of her drink.

“Baby I–”

They both freeze. Harry didn’t mean to call her that, but God, doesn’t it feel natural? Isn’t that why it slipped out in the first place? Yet, a slap in the face would have felt better for Charlie. The vodka gets caught in her throat, the once warm liquor running ice cold down her chest.

She turns, her heart melting at the sight of his face. It’s that same heartbreaking, broken concoction of regret and worry knitting his brows and dripping from his eyes. And it has her lips hungrily on his.

He catches her, grabbing her hips as he opens his legs for her and draws her to his chest, breathing in every inch of her. Because that’s what kissing Charlie is like. Oxygen for the first time, water for the first time, life for the first time. His rough hands snake up her back, grip her sides, pinch her skin. Her nails rake at the nape of his neck, muscle memory expecting locks to hold onto but finding short curls as their home instead.

Their tongues and lips work in an unspoken agreement, all the way to her new apartment by the bar, all the way to her bed.

They didn’t speak. They were both far too terrified to lose this moment. They just needed each other, the touch they’d both been desperately chasing for months. Charlie closes her eyes as Harry’s mouth starts its attack on her neck and is transported to Louis’ apartment, where she first felt that same desperation.

“Please.” She breathes, wrapping her legs around his hips, eliciting from him a muffled groan as she grinds up towards him. He nods into her neck, his lips still working down her soft skin. She still tastes the same, that strawberry vanilla he could drink by the gallon.

Charlie claws at his back, making an attempt to remove his black button-up as he moves down her body. She just about manages it as he settles between her legs, pushing up her denim dress without grace or care before biting the edge of her knickers.

The heels of her feet press into his toned back, her palms already fisting the sheets as he harshly grips her hips to push her back into the mattress.

A million thoughts run through Harry’s head, but fear holds him back from saying a single one of them. Months ago, he would’ve told Charlie everything. How good her thighs feel, how fucking pretty she looks laying there, needy for him. How much her soft little pants sound like she should be begging for him, how hard he is for her like this.

But he can’t. For all he knows, he’s simply a mouth right now. He’s not Harry, he’s just something she needs, and fuck if he’ll be whatever she needs.

So he bites into her inner thigh, sucking away the sharpness as she grips and tugs at his hair. He moans into her skin, eyelashes fluttering against her hips as he kisses the top of her pubic bone. His touch is rough in every place but his lips as he makes a path to her core, pressing teasing kisses over her clit. Her knickers are fucking soaked through, and the sight alone is enough to send him berserk.

“Charlie, I’m gonna have to–”

“Please, just–”

With that sliver of permission, he reaches down, squeezing himself over his trousers. The slightly relieved pressure has him gasping against her lace, which quickly becomes wetter. Charlie sits up on her elbows, watching Harry touch and squeeze while he continues to tease her.

And it’s there. In between the need and the pleasure, Charlie begins to cry. Softly, quietly, but enough to garner Harry’s distracted attention.

“Hey, hey,” Harry moves back up her body, tugging her dress back into place as he squeezes her hip, “I’m sorry, I-”

“It’s fine.” Charlie’s voice cracks as her head hits the pillow, hot tears quickly meeting her hairline before she can wipe them away.

“Sweetheart–”

“I’m not your fucking sweetheart.” Charlie murmurs between gritted teeth, sending Harry aback. He sits up on his heels, his touch slowly leaving her. Charlie presses her palms into her eyes, squeezing the tears out as she muffles sobs against her hands.

“That’s the problem.”

It’s hardly above a whisper, but Harry hears every last syllable. Leaning back over her, he removes her fists, gently brushing her blotchy cheeks.

“I’m just drunk and emotional and weird and–”

“Stop it,” Harry murmurs, pulling her up to sit in front of him. “Tell me what you’re feeling.” When she doesn’t budge, he drops his head and whispers, “please.”

Charlie finds his eye. In so many ways, he’s unchanged. He still looks at her like that, and it crumbles her, just as easily as it did all those months ago.

“Everything got so fucked up, Harry. The band, me, us. I haven’t sang a chord in months. I see the guys, what, once, twice a month? And you…”

“It’s my fault, Char.” Harry sighs, collapsing beside her, rubbing his face. “I left, I split everyone up–”

“You needed to.” She interrupts, stern. “I didn’t realise at the time, it took me a while to accept it, but you needed to. Niall was starting a family, everyone was starting to burn out, even if we didn’t want to admit it.”

“You did the right thing.”

Those fives words are all that Harry’s wanted to hear for nine months. He’s spent countless, sleepless nights wondering if he’d messed everything up for everyone, forever. If in his selfishness he’d forgotten to use logic.

“I’m just not sure I did.”

Harry frowns, turning to look at Charlie.

“What do you mean, Charlie?”

“I worry that I was… hasty. Rash.”

Harry can’t help the small smile that starts to tug at his lips. He lifts his knees and rests his chin on his palm to hide it.

“I did a really messed up thing, you were justified.”

“No.” Charlie sighs, looking at the ceiling. “I was right to be mad, but I wasn’t right to have said all the stuff I did. I was especially not right to leave you.”

Harry’s chest jumps, but he tries to calm his excited heart before Charlie can finish. When it comes to her, there’s no real predictability. She might be about to destroy him all over again.

“Those six years mean more to me than anything I’ve done in my entire life. You were there through everything, every shitty and amazing thing, all I can think about is flashes of you. My sister, my audition, my first heartbreak, my first– I could go on and on, but the point is, you were there.”

“Even if you annoyed the shit out of me for the better part of it, you’re my life, Harry. I was stupid to think I could ever live it in the same way without you.”

It’s impossible to fight his grin, now.

Charlie finally turns to face him, instantly rolling her eyes at the sight of him. His entirely too wide smile, his glinting eyes and how they quickly flit to her lips, the twitch between his brows that lets her know he’s holding back a comment.

And despite his speechlessness, his answer is obvious.

“You sure you don’t want someone easier?” Charlie lilts, swaying into him.

“Why on Earth would I want anyone else?”

“I don’t know. I yell at you a lot.”

“I’d rather have you hate my guts than have anyone else.” Harry takes her waist, easing her beneath him again as he hovers over her. “I’ve spent my entire life waiting to hear you say that, you know.”

“Entire life is a bit dramatic.” Charlie drapes her arms around his neck, her fingers finding his nape. That hair is going to take some getting used to.

“Nope,” Harry pops his P, leaning down to press a kiss to her jaw. “You’re my life too, Char.”

She leans back into the pillow, her thumb circling his neck. “You mean it?”

It’s Harry’s turn to roll his eyes, now.

“You really have to ask? What more could I possibly do to prove to you that you’re it for me, you always have been.”

Charlie smirks. “I could think of something.”

“Always thinking with your dick, Greene.”

Charlie lets out a scoff, and Harry let’s his chest do whatever it wants.

@lilfreakjez @be-with-me-so-happily @sirtommyholland @tpwksm @b-reads-things @tiaamberxx @daphnesutton @mleestiles

#harry styles smut #harry styles x oc #harry styles angst #harry styles series #1d ot5 #one direction series #harry styles x reader #harry styles #1d series #1d smut #spare parts series #harry styles friends with benefits #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fic

[loveronlineee]

Us Weirdos Chapter 1 (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Masterlist

Eddie Munson x Byers! Reader (She/Her)

Warnings: none

Synopsis: Y/N picks up her little brother’s friends from their after school club and bumps into an old classmate

Y/N notes: none

Wanna request something? Look here!

Y/N kept her hands on the wheel as she drove towards her old high school, Queen blasting from the cassette player. Her head bobbed to the music as she pulled into the parking lot.

A weird nostalgic feeling filling her as memories from the old building came flooding back. A mix of good and bad. Y/N wasn’t popular, but she certainly wasn’t bullied. She kept to herself and did what she was told, managing to scrape through the four years just fine. No major problems. No… drama.

Damn I was a boring teenager.

The 20 year old thought to herself as she parked the car at the front. She was on the lookout for three familiar faces; Mike Wheeler, Lucas Sinclair and Dustin Henderson. She used to see them on an almost daily basis, being her littlest brother’s best friends. But since she graduated and moved out of her Mom’s house, there weren’t really any times they would bump into each other.

Y/N took out the tape just as the song was ending and took a different one from her glove box. The Clash. She put it in, knowing one of her favourites was gonna start.

Darlin’ you got to let me know,

should I stay or should I go?

She looked back at the building, still nothing. The music continued to fill the car as Y/N tapped on the wheel in time.

If you say that you are mine,

I'll be here 'til the end of time

She decided to get out and stand, leaning on her now open car door. The song just loud enough that she could still hear it.

So you got to let me know,

should I stay or should I go?

Finally, a group of boys burst open the double doors. Y/N spotted the three youngest and gave them a wave. The boys waved back and jogged over to her car. Y/N folded her arms, smiling at them.

“Hey guys! Been a while. You guys look so different!” Y/N remarked. She scanned each boy. “Mike you’re so tall now! Lucas I like the hair and Dustin nice braces.”

“Ugh you sound like my Mom’s friends.” Mike pulled a disgusted face as Dustin and Lucas smiled at her.

“Oh really?” Y/N grabbed Mike and ruffled the boy’s hair comically. “Mikey you’ve become such a handsome young man! Come give me a smooch!” She wrapped him up in a restricting hug whilst making over the top kissing noises. The other boys just laughed as he watched his friend struggle to escape the embrace.

“Ugh I forgot how annoying you are!’’ Y/N let him go after a couple seconds, chuckling. “I’m starting to regret asking you to pick us up.”

“I’m not.” Dustin opposed.

“Me neither.” Lucas added.

“Oh that’s two v one Mike.” Y/N stated. “Looks like you’ll have to endure a car ride home with me instead of walking back in the cold and the dark. Don’t worry, you’ll manage.” She joked.

“Yeah yeah I get it.” Mike huffed.

“Uh Mike, would anyone else buy you guys snacks for the ride home? I don’t think so.” The younger boys’ eyes lit up as they flung open the back seat to see bags of chips and cans of soda.

Y/N watched with a smile as they climbed inside and started on the snacks. That’s when she felt another pair of eyes on her.

‘‘Y/N?’’ A vaguely familiar voice called out to her. She spun around to see an old classmate from school. “Y/N Byers?’’

‘’Holy shit. Eddie Munson?’’ She said with a surprised smile. She took a couple steps closer to him. “Dude I almost didn’t recognise you. Your hair is so long now!’’ Eddie looked taken aback at her reaction, loosing his cool for a moment.

“Ha yeah I’ve been growing it out.’’ He smiled, putting his hands in his pockets.

“Why are you here?’’

“Uh I… I’m repeating senior year again.” Eddie explained, looking down to the ground and taking a hand out to rub the back of his neck.

“Oh dude no judgement. I still have no idea how I graduated in 84.” Y/N joked to ease the tension. It seemed to work as Eddie looked back up at her.

“So what have you been up to since then?”

“I work at Family Video. Got promoted to assistant manager a month ago.”

“Wow going up in the world.” Eddie said, half joking. Y/N chuckled, making him smile wider.

‘‘You guys know each other?’’ Dustin asked, stuffing his face. Mike and Lucas looked at the two older kids as well, waiting for an answer.

“Yeah we were in the same grade at school.’’ Y/N explained. The younger ones nodded, realising that they were the same age. “We had homeroom together, senior year.’’

“Yeah I sat behind you.’’ Eddie added. Y/N turned back to him with a smile.

“Oh yeah you did! You used to drum on the back of my chair and drive me CRAZY.’’

‘‘Wh- that was annoying you?! You never said anything!” Eddie chuckled, taking a step closer to her.

“Of course that was annoying me! I was just too shy back then to speak up.” Y/N shook her head at herself.

“Well I apologise. ‘twas not my intention m’lady.” Eddie bowed his head dramatically, hand movements to match. Y/N folded her arms.

“I accept your apology good sir, even if it is two years too late.” Y/N joked. Eddie pretended to be offended, standing back up straight and putting his hand to his chest which made Y/N laugh. She sighed and looked back at the boys. “Well I better get these three home so their Mom’s don’t kill me. It was good to see you Eddie.”

“Yeah, you too Y/N.” He walked to his van as Y/N got back in her car.

“Okay you guys ready to go?” The boys nodded. Y/N drove out of the school, giving Eddie a little wave on the way out.

“So were you and Eddie…friends?” Mike asked, sceptical. He tried to think of any instance where he saw Eddie even talk to a girl, let alone be friends with one. Y/N shook her head.

“Oh no I barely knew him.” Mike frowned.

“Well you seemed pretty excited to see him?” Y/N shrugged.

“I think it’s just that feeling when you see someone you knew from high school and realising how much time has passed. Maybe you’ll get it after you graduate.” The boys nodded. The tape ended. Y/N began playing it from the beginning again.

She tapped the steering wheel along to the beat, then sighed. “I miss Will.” She whined.

It had been a couple months since her Mom and brothers had moved to California. She had had the choice to go with them but decided to stay in Hawkins. She already had her own place and a stable job and moving somewhere else would do a number on her savings.

“What about Johnathan?” Lucas asked. Y/N pulled a face.

“Yeah I guess him too.” The boys laughed at the oldest sibling playing obvious favourite. No she loved Johnathan too but Will was the baby, and he’d always be the baby. “You boys aren’t making too much mess back there are you?” The rustling immediately stopped, making Y/N laugh. “I’m just kidding. I’m getting the car cleaned tomorrow you guys can go crazy.”

“Chores day?” Dustin asked.

“Yeah. Gotta go grocery shopping, tidy the house, do laundry, drop something off at work and get the car cleaned.” Y/N listed off. “Oh the joys of adulthood that await you boys.”

She joked, making the boys smile. “So you guys are friends with Eddie?”

“Yeah he runs the D&D club.” Mike answered.

“Oh right yeah! I totally forgot he did that.” Y/N commented. She looked at them through the rear view mirror. “So you guys tell Will that you don’t wanna play anymore but as soon as you get to High School-“

“I-It’s just because we wanted to make friends!” Mike interjected, feeling a twinge of guilt. Y/N laughed and shook her head.

“I’m kidding guys. As long as you’re having fun.” She brushed off.

They pulled into Mike’s driveway and he jumped out. His Mom opened the door and waved at Y/N, mouthing thanks as her son walked inside. “Well at least his Mom has manners.” Y/N mumbled, making Dustin and Lucas giggle.

Next was Lucas’ house. He jumped out and walked to the front passenger window.

“Thank you ever so much for driving me home Y/N. Do get home safe.” He said exaggeratively.

“You are very welcome Lucas. I will.” Lucas grinned and ran into his house. Y/N turned to look at the last boy. “You wanna jump in the front Dust?”

“Hell yeah!” The boy replied excitedly as he got out and swapped seats.

“Okay next stop, the Henderson residence.” The car started up again and they were back on the road.

“How’s work?” Dustin asked. Y/N shrugged.

“It’s work. Not much happens at Family Video so there’s not much to tell.”

“It must be cool to work with Steve and Robin.” The boy smiled.

“Yeah it’s cool, especially since they have to do everything I say.” Y/N said with mischief in her voice. “How’s high school going?”

“Alright I guess. Still getting bullied like in Middle School. Maybe a little better cause we’ve got Eddie looking out for us.” Y/N nodded sympathetically as she continued to listen. “This guy Jason is the worst-“

“Junior Jason Carver?!” Y/N loudly interrupted “Oh shit wait no he’ll be a senior now. WOW I’m old.”

“You know him?” Dustin questioned.

“I used to be his math tutor. He had a crush on me.” Y/N chuckled to herself.

“Wha- really?”

“Uh don’t sound so surprised Henderson! Yeah he did. His friends used to tease him about it when I was in earshot. I’d pretend not to hear but I did.” Y/N smile dropped. “But now he’s a bully? That’s so upsetting to hear. He seemed so sweet.”

“He mostly picks on Eddie. But then again, Eddie does kinda egg him on.”

“Well I’ll keep an eye out for him so I can give him a stern lecture.” Y/N said, her grip on the wheel tightening ever so slightly.

“Please make sure I’m around when you do, I can’t miss that.” The two laughed together as they stopped outside Dustin’s house. “Oh and the guys. Eddie especially. He’d love it.” Y/N nodded, an amused smile on her face.

“Well here we are.”

“Thanks Y/N.” Dustin said as he got out.

“No problem. Let me know if you guys need another lift.”

“We will! Bye!” Y/N watched him run into the house before looking away. She opened her glove box again to find something else to listen to. She frowned.

Why am I suddenly in the mood for something metal?

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #reader x Eddie Munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things season four #stranger things season 4 #reader x stranger things

[iia-hrieshylova]

Keep the World Floating

"No one is loved like musicians. You know, no arts... Musicians are loved by people, really loved, because they give them the ability to express their emotions and their memories". Fran Lebowitz. 'Pretend It's a City'

Camille stared at the invitation flier, which laid on the table among the papers' pile. For a fraction of a second, a hunch flashed through her mind, a hint of a thought – drop everything and go to the club where Frank was performing tonight. "Drop everything" is such a seductive thought that it easily becomes a habit, and Camille has spent many years trying to eradicate it. But today the idea seemed right, and getting out of the trap of the right idea was much more difficult.

Throwing the folder with the half-read manuscript on the table, Camille picked up a motley piece of glossy paper and sat down in an armchair, facing the window. The main advantage of an apartment on the second floor is the ability to hear life outside the window without looking at it. Scattered pinkish clouds were floating across the sky, announcing the imminent approach of the evening; the screams of the grocery store's owner were heard below, a crowd of teenage girls hurried past, excitedly chirping about something extremely unimportant, an elderly neighbour upstairs once again has opened the window and turned on his  his record player:

....This year's new romance, ...doesn't seem to have a chance. Even helped by Mr. Moon above...

Camille smiled to herself, remembering her old habit of telling fortunes from snippets of the random songs. Yes or no, white jumper or blue, does he love me or not? Frank always laughed at this habit, calling it a frivolous consumption of music. "Whatever, your songs are great for a frivolous fortune-telling," Camille retorted, but, of course, she was cunning, – Frank composed wonderful music. She desperately wanted to go to the club and hear him singing again. Even realising all the consequences of this desire, Camille felt an almost physical need to succumb to memories, dive into them headlong, try her luck at least one more time – what if? After all, not all fortune-tellings come true.

Woman stared blankly out of the window. What if she goes to that club tonight? They haven't seen each other for so many years, but, of course, he will recognise her. How will it be? Will he approach her before the performance, or will he prefer to wait until the end, glancing over her during each memorable song? Yes, he will definitely play a couple of their songs to please her, as if saying, "I see you, I am grateful that you came, where have you been all this time?". Of course he will come to her. Most likely, they will leave the club together. At what time? Ten, eleven at night? Who cares? They will wander aimlessly around the streets, talking, remembering, but not creating anything new. A city in April is an absolute cliche of a romantic dialogue: the two look into each other's eyes, the air is fresh and sweet, all conversations revolve around one obvious motif – "Kiss me, kiss me!" Flash! And... The anticipation of a kiss is always better than the kiss itself, but no one will ever admit it in a city filled to the brim on an April night.

A moment – they are at the door of her house. Expectant look, "Will you invite me or not?" And suddenly, – the spark dies. There are mistakes that we willingly make for the first time, even feeling their wrongness, but these mistakes are forgiven only because we know that the experience will never repeat itself. She will not invite him to come over, he will understand why without showing. Same gentle smile, a kiss on the forehead, the blackness of the April night. Regret? Not really.  Is it possible to break the connection, if she always has a CD with his songs on her shelf, and the time machine is invented, they are always 17, if she wishes so?

But after all, she's never listened to that album in 20 years.

That was an answer. Camille smiled again, stretched in her chair, and crumpling the flier in her hand, tossed it into the bin. The sky outside the window took on a lilac shade of twilight, the neighbour's record played the last chord, and Camille suddenly felt an incredible lightness and almost painful delight from the opportunity to just stay there.

...This year's crop of kisses is not for me. ...For I'm still wearing last year's love!

Kyiv, 2020

[rebelwrites]

What Happens In Vegas

Clay Spenser x Reader

A/N so this was inspired by this post @theysayitscrazy

Join The Group Chat Here - If You Want Tagging Manually Let Me Know 🖤

Clay Spenser Masterlist

This Months Writing

The moment you spun around, your eyes landed on the Blondie that was speaking to your future brother in law. You were confused, this week in Vegas was just for the wedding party, as one big bachelor and bachelorette party, yet you had never seen this guy, or a few of the guys before.

“Yo, sis!” You shouted, resting your arm over your older sister's shoulder. “Who is the fit Blondie taking to D?”

“That my dearest sister is his best man, and one of the lads that he used to be a team mate to.” She struggled.

“Okay, okay next question, why the fuck haven’t I met him before?” You asked, not taking your eyes off the God that was on the other side of the room.

“Because first of all you were married and secondly he has been around plenty of times since you have been crashing with us, but somebody has been too shut off to realise.” Jade shrugged, like it was nothing.

“Please don’t remind me of that asshole,” You snapped, “And sorry I’m trying to rebuild my life after he left me with nothing. But now big sister I need to meet this guy because holy fuck he is fine.”

“Oh god.” She laughed. “You are a nightmare!”

“Hey, what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas right?” You grinned as she dragged you through the crowd.

As you got closer, you recognised one of them. The one and only Jason Hayes. Letting go of your sisters hand you ran into his open arms. You hadn’t seen him for years.

“Alright, trouble.” He laughed squeezing you tight. “I haven’t seen you for what feels like forever,” he shouted over the music.

“Yeah well you can thank that asshole for that,” You sighed.

“Wait, you aren’t wearing any rings?” Jase asked.

“He left me, took me for everything I had, took the business, the house, the car, everything.” You shrugged “Divorce finalised a couple of weeks ago.”

“And she’s been a nightmare ever since,” Danny laughed, pulling you into a hug.

“Dude, shut up and let me go through my hoe phase in peace!” You giggled, grabbing a shot from the centre of the table.

“Right I need to introduce you to some people.” Danny smirked at you.

“Urm, yeah you do!” You smirked, making him laugh.

“Okay well you know Jase, that’s Sonny, Ray, Eric and Clay” Danny said pointing at everyone.

Flashing them all a smile, you locked eyes with Clay, and instantly felt your heart starting to race, he was one hundred percent your type, and your mind instantly went to the gutter, as the dirty thoughts took over.

Everyone broke off in their groups and you gravitated towards Clay.

“I didn’t know Jade had a sister?” He grinned.

“Yeah, I’ve been crashing theirs for nearly a year now but to be fair I’ve been out a lot! Especially the last couple of weeks.” You laughed, “But it’s nice to get back to the old me.”

“How long were you married?” Clay asked.

“It was about six years, first year was good and then the rest was hell.” You sighed, “But that is a depressing story, so that’s all you are getting.” The music had now changed to more sensual stuff and you couldn’t help but smirk “Come on, we are dancing.”

“I don’t dance darling.” He laughed, bringing the beer bottle to his lips.

“Oh I’m sure I can change that!” You giggled, “Live a little Clay, we are in Vegas, who knows what could happen.”

“Fine but if I don’t have fun, I will make you pay.” He winked.

“I will hold you to that.” You smirked, linking your hand in his dragging him to the dance floor.

To say you had only met Clay a couple of hours ago, you felt like you had known him for years, the conversation flowed along with the alcohol, his touch set your skin on fire and there was definitely shameless flirting going on. And currently you were both in the middle of the dance floor, smashed out of your face, bodies pressed against each other, as his fingers caressed your cheeks. Before you knew it, his lips were on yours. And the moment they connected you knew you were fucked.

No one had made you feel, like he had with one kiss. He left you wanting more, wanting to get to know him, wanting to get him into bed. He sent your brain into a frenzy.

“Well that was unexpected!” You breathed, as he rested his forehead against yours.

“You said it yourself, we are in Vegas, anything could happen!” He smirked.

You knew the next week of the trip would be absolute chaos, seen as it looked like you had a new partner on crime to cause trouble with.

The night passed, the drinks kept coming and everyone would be dealing with a nasty hangover in the morning, but you didn’t care. You were all living in the moment, without any thoughts. You and Clay were all over each other, either you were sitting on his lap when you were in the booth, or your hands were roaming over each other’s bodies. And all you could think about was him taking you back to his room and having his way with you.

“Oi trouble,” Danny said, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you got another round of drinks in. “I see that look in your eyes, when you look at Clay.”

“And?” You giggled.

“Just be careful, okay,” he said kissing your head, “Clay is a good lad, but I know that your heart of yours is fragile at the moment.”

“Like I said D, let me live the hoe phase. You just worry about the wedding and let me worry about my heart okay.” You nodded.

“I wouldn’t be a good big brother if I didn’t look out for you,” he smiled.

The last call had been made and the final drink had been drunk, everyone was fucked, you couldn’t walk straight so was clinging to Clay, but he wasn’t any better than you so you couldn’t stop laughing as you made your way back to his hotel room. Seen as he still had a stocked mini bar, so the two of you were going to carry on the party.

But you stopped by your room to grab a pair of shorts and a vest top as you needed to get out of this dress and into something more comfortable. It didn’t take long to grab what you needed and get to Clay’s room

The moment you were alone, you tugged at the straps on your dress, shimmying out of the constricting material. Leaving you standing there in a push up bra and thong. Clay didn’t know where to look, the feeling on his eyes roaming your body made you weak at the knees.

“Like what you see baby?” You giggled stumbling over to him, somehow you managed to trip over, but Clay caught you just in time.

“I do,” he breathed, as he held you in his arms. “But I think we are both too drunk to do anything about it.”

“But,” you pouted, “I want you!”

“I know and I want you too, but you are a lot more drunk than me, so it’s not happening tonight though!” He whispered guiding you to the bed. “And honestly the amount of whiskey I’ve drank I don’t think I can get him up, no matter how hard I try!”

“Haha you have whiskey dick.” You giggled, reaching round to undo your bra. “I’m so sleepy,” you hummed.

“Wear this,” Clay laughed, tossing you one of his shirts, “then I think we best get some sleep, we have breakfast to attend in something like 3 hours.”

The sound of a phone going off, woke you up, along with the blazing sun streaming into the room.

“Turn it off” you groaned, snuggling further into Clay.

“It’s your phone,” he mumbled.

“Urgh” you sighed, slowly lifting your head off his chest to try and figure out where you had left the phone.

It didn’t take long to find it, and you couldn’t help roll your eyes as you saw the 20 missed calls off Jade and Danny. Just as the call ended it started ringing again with Danny’s face popping up on your screen.

“Thanks for waking me up!” You moaned, covering your eyes with your hand.

“Well you sound fucked,” he laughed.

“And you are annoying as hell Mr I Don’t Suffer From Hangovers,” you whisper shouted. “My head is pounding, can I go back to bed?”

“Nope! You and Clay are late for breakfast,” he said, the smirk evident in his voice. “Now get your ass down here in 10 minutes.”

“Asshole, you best have a large coffee and a fresh pack of smokes waiting for me!” You growled ending the call, looking back over at the bed you saw Clay had fallen back asleep. “Oi idiot, wake up,” you said, poking his cheek, “We got ten minutes to get downstairs.”

He didn’t say anything but groaned as he rolled out of bed, you couldn’t help but gulp as he stood there in a tight pair of boxers, hair all fluffy, just looking like a snack.

“You just gonna stand and stare, or you gonna get ready?” He teased.

“Urm yeah,” you mumbled, picking your shorts up of the floor, pulling them on before grabbing your bra and vest top disappearing into the bathroom.

Once you were ready you walked out into the bedroom, rubbing your arms from the crisp morning air.

“Here, wear this,” Clay smiled, tossing you one of his zip up hoodies.

As you slipped it over your shoulders, the smell of his aftershave filled your nose, making you smile. You had known him less than 12 hours and he was making you feel like a teenager again, yep you were fucked.

Soon enough you had both joined the group at the table outside, before you even sat down Jade passed you a spare pair of sunglasses, with a smirk like she knew this would happen.

“Well you two look like a sight for sore eyes!” Danny laughed, looking between you and Clay.

“Shut up and give me the smokes!” You hissed, holding your palm out. The moment you had the smokes Jade linked her arm with yours dragging you to the smoking area.

“Right, tell me everything!” Jade squealed.

“Nothing happened,” you shrugged, “And please whisper!”

“Girl, come on. I have known you for years now, I saw how you were looking at each other last night.” She grinned, “And I know full well you ended up in his room and that is his hoodie.”

“Look we were far too drunk for anything to happen, I mean I wanted to but Clay put a stop to it because of how drunk I was.” You said, taking a long inhale of your smoke.

“I knew you would have a connection with him.” She beamed as you headed back to the table.

The moment you sat back down, Clay winked at you, making you feel giddy again.

“So I’ve heard love is in the air,” Danny smirked.

“Urm fuck love, just gimme the hot, rough sex!” You said, taking a sip of your coffee.

“I mean if you met the right person, maybe you could have both.” Clay said, keeping eye contact with you. The moment your brain caught up with what he said you choked on your coffee.

“I mean that person had to be really fucking special to make be believe in love again.” You shrugged, everyone else had gone back to whatever conversation they were having.

“If you are challenging me, then I’d say game on,” he smirked, leaning his head against his fists. “I know you felt the spark last night.”

“Let’s just see what happens this week,” you laughed, “And if I haven’t killed you then we shall see, but the sex better be damn hot boy.”

“I’m sure I can show you how hot it can get tonight!” He hummed, making you once again choke on your coffee.

@chibsytelford @mrsmarvelous1995 @supervalcsi @talicat713 @disasterfandoms @bravo-four-seal-team @jasonbabymama @jayhalsteadfan-2417 @lotsoflovefromlea @seik-o @ohitshanksgirlxo @velvetcardiganbucky @phoenixhalliwell @pancakeisreading @itsonautopilot @pinkrockstar19 @galaxysanduniversesinmymind @softi92 @abby-splace

#clay spenser #clay spenser x reader #clay spenser imagine #clay spenser oneshot #seal team #seal team x reader #seal team imagine #seal team oneshot

[extremelyblackandwhite]

handmaid - 23

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap

A/N: i wrote half this chapter listening to taylor swift’s enchanted which i dubbed a christmas song despite it not being a christmas song. i hope you enjoy xx

NEXT CHAPTER

The music was loud, too loud and Y/N could barely hear herself thinking. Between people congratulating Gwen and the overwhelming loud popular music, all Y/N wanted was to spend her birthday locked in her own bedroom reading Jane Austen but whenever she managed to dodge someone, a drunk associate would pat her on the back also congratulating her for her birthday. Darned drunk Daniel and his ‘it’s her birthday too’ sentence. Out of all 365 days in the year, she just had to be born on the same day as the heiress which she initially thought would make her invisible but suddenly everyone wanted to congratulate her too.

Dodging another one of her friend’s father’s drunk associates ready with a hiccupped speech, Y/N quickly climbed up the stairs, happily sighing when she finally got to some sense of quietness where she could read. Opening the red leathered book, Y/N let herself delve into the world of Jane Austen and the swooning love scenarios that came along with it.

With her nose stuck in the book, she started to pave around the floor, dancing around as she imagined the beautiful dance scenes in English regency balls. She could only imagine dancing with your loved one, with the shyness of the sun laying over winter snow, wandering eyes and slow, soft and comfortable dancing. She continued on her mindless dancing which was interrupted by her hitting something. 

     - Oop ... - Y/N looked up from a book into a pair of the most beautiful light blue eyes she had ever seen in her whole entire life. - I’m so sorry.

    - No, I wasn’t watching where I was going. My fault entirely. 

    - No, I wasn’t paying attention. 

    - What are you reading there? - he pointed at her book which she had closed over her finger as to not to lose the place of reading. - Jane Austen? A favourite?

     - I prefer Emma but Pride and Prejudice is a classic. Are you a fan?

    - I’m more of a Charlotte Brontë kind of guy myself. - he gave her that sort of smile that only old Hollywood stars could pull off. The type of smile morphing into a smirk that pulled you in with its sense of effortless coolness and mystique. A dangerous smile if she knew better. - That is if we’re speaking of English writers. My father has a very long personal collection.

    - Well, the Forrests aren’t the reading type from what I’ve gathered. 

    - Say, I’ve never seen you around before. Whose family do you belong to?

    - Oh, I ...

    - There you are. - a much older man, probably in his early 60s but very dapperly dressed with his hair pushed back and the same blue eyes the unknown man standing in front of her. She guessed they were somehow related by their matching features. - I thought we had discussed being late to meetings before.

   - I got distracted, father. - the much younger man shrugged. Y/N stood there, playing with her fingers, fully aware that the atmosphere had shifted into something more awkward than what she preferred. It became even more uncomfortable once the much older man made eye contact with her, making her feel much more smaller than before, head snapping back to her feet. - You sure have a particularly familiar set of eyes there. Have we met before?

   - No, I don’t think so. - she played with the ends of her hair, hoping the Earth would open and swallow her. 

   - What family do you belong to? I’m sure I’ve seen those eyes before. 

   - BIRDIE! - Y/N turned around to see Dan power walking towards her. - Gwen is waiting for you to cut the cake. Say goodbye, c’mon. 

Y/N just stood there, not entirely sure of what to reply to Mr. Williams’ remarks about her. She wasn’t a mistress and she surely wasn’t aiming to be one on the women she had grown accustomed to see coming in and out of the house during her childhood. Sure, she was having some sort of ... affair, if it could be called that, with Sebastian but she wasn’t his mistress. No, she would never be his mistress for that to happen he would have to want to be with her and following last events, he really wasn’t. Besides, she wasn’t like him and she would never be like him. 

   - I understand your struggle, miss. It must be really hard to see the man you care for not care for you.

   - With all due respect, Mr. Williams, I really don’t enjoy your assumptions about me or Mr. Stan. It’s incredibly disrespectful. 

   - He’s not gonna call you, birdie. I see you checking your phone but trust me. He might not be like his father where it matters but when it comes to women, they’re the same man.

   - Don’t call me birdie. - she mumbled, the affectionate nickname given to her by Dan when she was younger losing its innocence as it came out of the associate’s mouth. - I really would like it if you left.

   - Don’t be so upset. In this world you have to play dirty to get ahead and you’re surely get to get dirty to get ahead ... You’ll surely have enough money to do whatever you want if you keep going. 

   - I don’t want any money but I don’t wanna be part of this conversation. - she cleaned her hands against her apron, walking off the kitchen with a decisive step. Ignoring most questioning looks from those at the table, she climbed the stairs back to her bedroom, locking the door behind her. 

She was no mistress and she definitely did not want Sebastian’s money and the mere speculation that that was all she cared about made her sick to her stomach. If she were to care about money she would’ve gotten it very much early on. With sadness and heaviness in her heart accompanied by shame of being seen as nothing more than a passing fancy, Y/N sat down against her bed frame, hand moving to grab one of her bedside table books. 

Out of all the books she blindly had to pick, out of all novels she had spent her teenage and early adulthood reading, the one she had picked was a particularly old one with a red leather binding and golden title letters. Her fingers softly moved across the cover, feeling the bumps and tears of time over the leather. It used to be her favourite during her early young adulthood years and Y/N was sure she had read it over a thousand times. As she opened the book, it fell onto a slightly crinkly page. She furrowed her brows, not remembering when she had crinkled the page until a polaroid fell onto her legs, photo front down. 

Curiously, Y/N closed her book, setting it next to her in the bed before grabbing the polaroid on her legs. She swiftly turned it around, noticing her handwriting on the border ‘18th’. She smiled nostalgically noticing her young face in the sea of people, wearing an oversized babydoll dress which most likely belonged to Gwen, Mary Jane style shoes with the very same necklace nestled between her collarbones and a polite smile. However, what called up for Y/N’s attention was right in the middle of the photo, standing next to Mr. Forrest, was a man probably in his mid to late 20s wearing a dark burgundy suit which made her blink twice, making her pull the photo closer for inspection. His hair was a bit longer and shaggier and his face a bit fuller due to younger age but she could recognise those eyes everywhere. Dan was right, Sebastian had been at Gwen’s 18th and for all that was safe and holy she just couldn’t remember it. 

Looking around as if she were afraid of being caught, she jumped off her bed, grabbing her book to stick the polaroid back inside and both of the objects inside one of her suitcase’s pockets, covering by various fabric items. Something told her that she had to question him about that particular event whenever she got the chance. Afterwards, she took her phone from her pocket to check if he had maybe tried to call her back or message her but nothing, only the clock and her lock screen. Two minutes past midnight, Christmas day. It was Christmas and that gave Y/N the excuse to give him another call. As expected by the darkest most negative part of her brain, all she heard was “The number you have dialled is unavailable, leave your message at the end of the tone”.

  - Hey Sebastian, it’s Y/N ... you probably know, you have called ID ... - she was rambling and could hear her heart thumping on her throat as if they’d never spoken before. - I just wanted to say ... Merry Christmas. 

  - Hey Birdie. - Dan opened the door of her bedroom, making her drop her phone onto the floor by surprise. He furrowed his eyebrows at that behaviour. Y/N certainly didn’t use to be this easy to fright. - We’re opening presents, c’mon.

  - Yeah, I’m going. - she forced a smile, grabbing her phone to finish the call before following him down the stairs.

Thirty minutes away from the place was she was spending Christmas, back in the Upper East Side, Sebastian was standing inside his office, brandy filled glass as he watched the sights from the large windows and how the snow fell disregarding and uncaring of any other circumstances. 

He was much too lost watching various people come out of their houses to celebrate the snow, lost in his own thoughts until the beep of his answering machine removed him from his mind. He shot a look towards the rather old school device as a very familiar voice came through “Hey Sebastian, it’s Y/N ... you probably know, you have called ID ... I just wanted to say ... Merry Christmas.” He placed the glass on this desk, getting closer to the device, finger pressing the rewind button causing the melodic voice to return which wishes of happy holidays. The mob boss smiled at her rambling, how she would go on and on before stopping herself and how sweet she sounded at the end. 

   - Sir ... - a light knock on his door following by the creaking of the door made him remove his finger from the rewind button. - I’m leaving for tonight. Is there anything you require?

   - No Amelia, thank you. 

Back at the Forrests, Y/N was cuddled and wrapped with a red blanket, a cup of peppermint tea in hand as she watched Gwen open the large majority of the presents with a child-like enthusiasm along with Dan’s daughter Sophie. With a very soft and absent minded smile, she couldn’t help but get lost in her own fantasies as she watched Sophie’s eyes light up as she showed her father the stuffed bunny she had just unwrapped. All she could see was the Christmas tree back in the penthouse surrounded with various presents wrapped in shades of red and gold as a child showed Sebastian their own presents. Yet, she knew it was only in her mind and that she probably would see that but the child would be Gwen’s.

   - Now it’s Y/N’s turn. - Mr. Forrest handed her a card sized present. - Merry Christmas, Y/N. 

   - Thank you. - she placed her tea cup on the table, carefully opening the present which led to another little box. Removing the lid, it showed a golden key with a matching gold bird keychain all surrounded by white cushioned fabric. - Oh ... thank you. Is it a necklace?

   - No. - Dan chuckled. - It’s a house key.

   - But I already have the key to this house.

   - Well, dad and I have been discussing it and after Mr. Stan and Gwen get married, we thought you might want to start your own life. - Dan had that grin that seemed to appear whenever he was truly proud of himself. - So, we got you an apartment in Paris, like you always wanted. View to the Tower Eiffel and all. 

   - Oh ... - once again Y/N questioned her full on lack of happiness. She had a place to start her life where she always wanted, she had a house, one she didn’t have to pay for. Forcing a smile, she nodded her head. - Thank you so much, Dan, it’s lovely.

  - I can help you make your arrangements after the wedding. - he added and started to ramble on how he knew a great interior designer while Gwen kept questioning her father how come she didn’t have an apartment in France, probably forgetting she had an apartment on almost every single European capital including London, Madrid and so on. She nodded, not really listening to his rambling until her phone vibrated on her jeans’ pocket. Looking down, she noticed a text from her phone company warning her that she had a message in her voicemail box.

  - Can you excuse me? - she asked the people surrounding the living room, getting up from her comfortable position. All but one, Mr. Williams, nodded. He instead watched her with hawk like eyes as she removed herself from the living room and paced onto the kitchen, closing the door behind her.

She could feel her body shake, her breathing getting irregular as she dialled the number that led to her voicemail messages. As quick as a second, the voicemail started to play but instead of listening to anyone speaking all she could hear was low breathing mixed with the non existent sound of silence. Her heart sank, this was probably a butt dial. As she was about to turn off her phone a familiar roughed yet laced with sweetness and nervousness came from the speaker.

   - Merry Christmas, my angel.

tag list: @lilya-petrichor @xoxohannahlee @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater @nikkipea @madisonpillstrom @cevans98 @thelostallycat @sideeffectsofyou @anxiousdreamersworld @captainchrisstan @lookiamtrying @sarge-barnes-sir @stuffforreferences @thebadassbitchqueen @sebastianstansqueen @nsfwsebbie​

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan fic #sebastian stan drabble #sebastian stan imagine #mob!sebastian stan #mobster!sebastian stan #mafia boss!sebastian stan #mob boss!sebastian stan

[angelmichelangelo]

First Line Fic Game

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favourite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favourite authors!

Thank you for the tag @panlesters !! <3 i’m not sure who has and hasn’t been tagged already but i’ll tag the lovely @echoedvoices and anyone else who wants to join in :D

1. and when the whole world is watching

Walker is unhinged.

It’s apparent in the way his eyes are bulging from his head, the irritable twitch of his fingers, the thick pulse in his neck that strains against the pale of his skin like a snake writhing under bladed grass.

It was also apparent in the dark, red blood splatter on the once polished shield he held tightly in trembling hands.

2. the no man’s land of my mind

Everything is cold. His body is tickled with it, his skin shivers as the icy breeze brushes past him, and when his muscles tense and constrict, there’s a dull ache; body used and underused in unison.

His head is throbbing, like his brain pulsating against the walls of his skull, banging like a tight skinned drum, desperate with each beat to escape itself.

3. the fox

“He’s gonna be sick.”

There’s a voice that feels both a million miles away as well as super close at the same time, like they’re literally in his ear.

4. company policy

There’s music thumping through the wall, faded and muted that makes it hard to hear the exact lyrics, but if Dan was to strain his ear, he’s sure he’s able to pinpoint what it is, since he’s sure that recognising music is some kind of lame superhero power he has, but in all honesty, it’s a little hard to concentrate with someone railing him from behind.

5. catboy roleplay thursdays

Thursdays, Phil decides, are for his time. After hours of watching Jenna Marbles videos, Phil soon becomes very accustomed to the phrase that becomes a household name signature in his house, “me time.”

6. filters

Phil is sure he’s probably wasted about eighty percent of his adult life on his phone. Between the endless scrolling through TikTok and the wormhole that is Snapchat clickbait news stories, Phil is pretty much glued to his phone, even when he knows he shouldn’t be. 7. king of packed lunches

“How the hell do they make it look so good?”

Phil’s back is aching, burning almost, as he’s leant over the kitchen counter, squinting down at his phone as the TikTok replays again for what feels like the billionth time, the speedy hands of a mother perfecting what seems like the world's most incredible lunch box.

8. the fisherman’s guide

A seagull soars across the sky. Its wings spread wide, momentarily paused against the blue as it glides through the air, not before it flaps its wings again. It passes through the sunlight, briefly shadowing the world for a moment in a blink of darkness.

9. an empty house

Numbness spreads across his body like he’s been dunked in freezing cold water. It’s tingling in the tips of his fingers, burning fiercely in the soles of his feet, making him want to just run.

The police station is too loud. It’s too bright and it’s too big and his heart is so heavy where it sits in his chest, it feels like a rock pulsing against his ribs, each beat and each out of sync pounding is like another dull ache there, spreading across each inch of his body until he’s completely and utterly numb.

10. fall and i’ll catch you

The early sunlight filters through the half pulled blinds of the bedroom window. It oozes all over the room, dancing against the walls and door, falling over items dotted around the teenager’s room. It floods over his body, the small warm feeling prickling against his skin, and when it comes to rest across his face, does it wake Peter up.

11. eight million

She sits by the phone, fingers trembling, her leg bounces with a bubble of anxiety that flows through her body, jolting every nerve in her body like hot electricity. He was supposed to be on the bus. He was supposed to be okay. But it’s been half an hour since the world ended and she hasn’t heard from anyone.

12. thanatophobia

It’s a fear of dying. It burns itself into so many minds across the earth and universe. It lives, deep rooted for a lifetime, or is sparked to life early. It’s a bubbling anxiety that grows in the pit of your stomach and comes out in sleepless nights and heavy beating hearts. It’s a fear that can’t be faced.

13. familiar faces

Phil’s deep into a Mario Kart round when there’s a knock at the door, making him jump. He looks at the door, then back at the TV where he’s slipped into eight place as Baby Peach absolutely totals him with a green shell that–

The door knocks again, and Phil pauses his game, his own Mii frozen on the screen with a look that can only be described as utter disappointment as Phil turns away and heads towards the door.

14. end of the page

“Thought? Feelings? Hate it, love it? Kinda wanna set fire to it?”

Phil’s shoulders are shaking with a silent laugh as he takes the mug from Dan’s offering hand, bringing the rim of the mug to his lips as he takes a long, slow sip. Honey flavoured tea, his favourite.

15. coming home

The key in the lock seems to echo so loudly in the quiet of the night, and as Phil struggles through the front door, feet clip clipping loudly into the hall, he can hear the sounds of Dan’s shushing as their dog bounds towards them from the other room, probably where he’d made himself on the sofa he knows he’s not allowed up onto, and Phil pulls the baby carrier up out of his eyeline, shushing him further as he starts to whine, tail wagging, clearly wanting some attention since he’d been left alone most of the day.

16. vacation getaway

Phil is squeezing the last of the suncream into the palm of his hand, squirting out rather pathetically, he looks at if for a moment as it melts between his fingers under the hot sun, and he starts rubbing it up and down his arm, when there’s suddenly a shadow being casted over him.

17. just another drop stitch

When Hermione wakes, she’s cold. It’s something she’s become very accustomed to in their cottage, and as their first winter here had rolled around, she’d had to use her initiative to find ways to keep her waking feeling freezing.

18. beneath the ice

When Kurt wakes, the first thing he does is stumble out of bed, almost tripping over his own feet as he runs towards his window, pressing his face against the glass, fogging it up with his breath as a grin breaks across his face, eyes lighting up at the sight of the snow that’s now blanketing the outside world. He doesn’t hesitate to spin on his heel, rushing out of his room to find his dad, skipping two, three steps at a time.

19. in sickness and in health

Of course both Dan and Phil get sick during their honeymoon.

Of all the places they’d travelled around the world, Hawaii had been one place they’d somehow managed to skip out on.

20. dear santa

Dear Santa,

My name is Dan and I live in England and I’m eight years old. I’m in Year 3 at school and it’s okay I guess. The work isn’t so hard but the other kids in my class are kind of mean and I don’t really like them that much.

#i can't tell if the opening of my fics have a pattern or not #fic #phan #tag game #ty for this :D

[thepropertylovers]

Feature Friday with Rowyn Mottershead

Happy Friday! Any plans this weekend? Middle kiddo R started school today (yay!), something we’ve been hoping would be able to happen for a while now. His brother and sister are already enrolled in school and he was feeling a little left out, so we’re all thrilled he’ll be able to finally go now, too.

Today’s Feature Friday is a special one. Rowyn has a beautiful, important story to share, and his words on life, love, and self-acceptance ring true no matter what stage of life you’re in. We loved getting to know Rowyn and we think you will, too. See what we mean below…

On the beauty of a road trip: My favourite place I have travelled to is Colorado, it was on a road trip with my fiancé last year. He is American and I am British so it blew my mind to see the vast land and untouched beauty of the states. We drove through Arkansas, Oklahoma, New Mexico and Colorado, each state with it own unique character and landmarks. I’ll never forget it and it motivates me to move out to the USA once I am married to my partner.

On a fortunate upbringing: I grew up in a small market town in the south of England. The area is conservative in attitudes but with accepting values, I didn’t know any LGBT people growing up but still I knew my family would love me regardless of my identity. I had a privileged middle-class upbringing and I’m thankful for the education and opportunities it brought me. I picked up learning piano and bass guitar when I was 10 years old and went on to pour all my energy into creative outlets. Most of my family were never concerned at this unconventional artistic focus and encouraged me to improve my music, art, food, films, whatever took my fancy. This lead me to where I am today in my multi-disciplined career as a musician, filmmaker and professional chef. 

On the influence of family to succeed: I come from an accomplished family so that made me very ambitious, my grandfather is a world-renowned theatre engineer and choir singer and he made it clear to me that I should always follow my passion and drive to find success rather than following money. Growing up with the expectation to succeed used to scare me a lot but now it fuels the confidence I have in my abilities. I had access to instruments and equipment that meant I had the building blocks for my skills from a young age, again I have privilege to thank for this. 

“Correcting people can be exhausting and unrewarding work, so really I also learnt that the people who really care about you the most, will do that emotional labour on your behalf…”

On an unexpected, impressive skill: I learnt to solve Rubik’s cubes when I was 12 years old, I can now solve a 5x5x5 cube in 10 minutes and a 3x3x3 cube in less than 2 minutes. In the past I have won bets on the basis of this skill because people tend not to believe me when I tell them I can do this! Never underestimate the power of someone with good memory and good dexterity!

On what he loves about himself: My patience and dedication to any cause I care about. I’ve always gotten satisfaction out of a good job done well, as well as excelling people’s expectations. I can multitask and keep track of my work so that I don’t get overwhelmed, which is a very useful skill in the kitchen at my job as a full time sushi chef! I love that I have a job that I’m very good at and that I enjoy very much. On a physical level, I love my naturally honey coloured hair :)

On what brings him joy in life: Wow there are so many possible answers for this. My passions that I have worked on the longest is my songwriting. I have explored myself and my life through lyrics and melody for nearly 20 years and it’s an incredibly important part of my life. I also find a lot of happiness in activities dancing, skating, swimming and hiking, as well of course as spending time with my fiancé, Liam. My three pet rats would also be high on that list!

On being open to who he is: I came out as transgender in 2013 when I was 16 years old, I had left school and met new friends at college so I transitioned smoothly into a masculine role at that time. However I found myself coming out again at 22 as a gay man, as I had found myself for the last 6 years being viewed as a bisexual androgynous mystery. I wanted to clarify how I felt but I felt some level of shame being both a ‘failed woman’ as a trans man and a ‘failed man’ as a gay man. I’m still working on this internalised homophobia and cisnormativity and I’m glad to be finally open about who I am.

On the importance of support: My family are very close and never stopped loving me or viewed me any differently. The adjustment to my new name and pronouns however took years for some people, especially my Dad, but they never stopped me from doing what I wanted. 7 years into my life as Rowyn, I think they recognise that this was the best decision for me, and we have never looked back. Most of the other people in my life these days have no idea who I was before I transitioned, and I would like to keep it that way. I faced some criticism in 2013 because transgenderism was not mainstream knowledge as it is today, I spent a lot of time educating people and explaining that no, this is not just because I wear my hair short and don’t like skirts, it’s a lot deeper than that.

On a learned lesson: I learnt that gender and sexuality is not straightforward, that it can be felt and perceived in many different ways. I had people close to me say that they will always view me as female and I had people I barely knew saying they had always felt a male energy from me. I had people assume I would fall in love with a woman and people assume that I had no sexual desires at all. I learnt that coming out is something you have to do over and over again, especially as a trans person who gets misgendered. Correcting people can be exhausting and unrewarding work, so really I also learnt that the people who really care about you the most, will do that emotional labour on your behalf, correcting friends and family in private to make your life easier. 

On his advice to today’s LGBTQ youth: I would say it is impossible to live your life on other people’s terms. Even if your family struggle to understand or accept your identity, you will only find happiness by being true to yourself. There are so many people out there who will love you exactly the way you are so if those people aren’t surrounding you, do your best to move into spaces where you will be supported. The people that mind don’t matter and the people that matter don’t mind. Obviously some people don’t have the opportunity to escape certain situations, but you can always reach out online to find like-minded people and realise you are not alone and you are not ‘freakish’, you are just your own variety of normal, and that is beautiful :)

“Life gets good when you stop waiting for the right time and seize the moment”

On the decision to finally start living life the way he wanted: Medical transition felt like a deep dark well of impossibility for many years. When I was 16 my parents decided I was too young for it and told me to wait until I was ‘ready’... well I felt I was ready at 16... so I then spent years waiting for anything to cement itself further so I could take the next step. But nothing changed, I went to university, continued living with physical discomfort and daily misgendering. I lost track of my mental health, slipped into an unhealthy relationship, somehow graduated on time at 21 and realised that I was still no closer to hormones and surgery and being ‘male’ then I was 5 years ago. At this point I decided to pay for private treatment so I could finally start living my life and overcome this burden of dysphoria. I’m so glad I did this and finally took control of my life. I had top surgery 6 months ago (at great expense) and the pay-off of anticipation was so worth it. Just being able to feel the fabric of a shirt on my back and the flatness of my chest feels like overcoming  the biggest obstacle I have ever faced.

On his biggest inspirations: In my daily life- my fiancé Liam [is my biggest inspiration]. He has incredible physical and mental stamina, he can run many miles at a time and write thousands of words in one sitting, and always has energy spare to shower me in love. In my professional life- my friend and collaborator Fox Fisher who has worked tirelessly over the past 8 years to make their content by and for the trans community. And in my musical life- singer/songwriter Orla Gartland who I have been following on YouTube for about 10 years. She is roughly the same age as me and has written countless incredible songs about very raw emotional experiences. Seeing us both grow as musicians over the years has brought me a lot pride and strength. 

On looking forward to the future: Married to Liam and probably living in the state of Arkansas where Liam is from. I hope to be running my own kitchen with a sustainable and vegetarian menu. I hope to be living on a homestead where we grow our own food and keep our own livestock. I hope to have employees that care as much about the food and the planet as I do. I hope to have time in the evenings to play music with my husband and laugh with friends. I hope to have some cute pets, as a stepping stone to starting my own family with Liam. Above all of course, I hope to be happy. 

On the power of believing in yourself: Life gets good when you stop waiting for the right time and seize the moment; whether it be proposing to the man of your dreams, furthering your skill set, taking small steps to fulfil your personal goals, or just taking a walk outside in the sunshine. Whatever you do to make a moment your own will be meaningful, will be something to look back on and be proud of. From being a confused depressed teenager to being an accomplished chef with a future husband and a transitioned body, only took a few years of hard work and positive thinking, and all it /really/ took was the belief in myself to succeed.

Thank you so much, Rowyn! You can follow him on Instagram here. Have a wonderful weekend, y’all!

[johnnymundano]

Class of 1984 (1982)

Directed by Mark L. Lester

Screenplay by Tom Holland, Mark Lester and John Saxton

Story by Tom Holland

Music by Lalo Schifrin

Country: United States

Running Time: 94 minutes

CAST

Perry King as Andrew Norris

Merrie Lynn Ross as Diane Norris

Timothy Van Patten as Peter Stegman

Stefan Arngrim as Drugstore

Michael J. Fox as Arthur

Roddy McDowall as Terry Corrigan

Keith Knight as Barnyard

Lisa Langlois as Patsy

Neil Clifford as Fallon

Al Waxman as Detective Stewiski

Erin Flannery as Deneen

David Gardner as Principal Morganthau

Linda Sorensen as Mrs. Stegman

Teenage Head as themselves

Note: If you enjoyed Class of 1984 you may also be interested in the thematic sequel Class of 1999 by the same prime movers, which is much more overtly comedic, and Unman, Wittering and Zigo (1971) a very British spin on the same themes starring David Hemmings.

Also: I took the images from the Internet like the anarchist hell child that I am. No rules! no future! Rip the system!

I remember reading about Class of 1984 when it came out and thinking the review in Starburst made it  sound like an incredibly exploitative and deeply unpleasant movie. Being 12 I immediately made a mental note to see it as soon as possible. Unfortunately the movie wasn’t passed uncut in the UK until 2005, by which time I was no longer 12 and thus somewhat preoccupied by the labyrinth of idiocy which is adult life. But that mental note still niggled, and so in 2019 that 12 year old’s simple ambition was belatedly fulfilled thanks to the UK blu-ray release of the movie. Turns out that not only is Class of 1984 incredibly exploitative and deeply unpleasant, but also (spoiler) my taste hasn’t evolved much since I was 12, because, me? I thought it was a hoot. A hoot and a half in fact.

Class of 1984 asks the old, old question Hollywood loves to ask - how far do you have to push a liberal milquetoast until he starts biting folk’s throats out? Because, as any decent hard working common sense fella with dirt under his fingernails will tell ya, it’s okay to have high-falutin’ ideas about equality and decency and edjumacation but, let’s face facts, when their wife’s blood soaks their corduroy jacket these liberal schmucks won’t hesitate to dip their fists in the basin of other people’s faces. It’s a small-minded, nasty genre that takes unseemly delight in demonstrating that the self-appointed avatars of civilisation have feet of clay. But it isn’t a stupid genre; it also recognises the fact that being a pigeon chested liberal weakling takes some doing against very stiff resistance. Basically, the genre exploits the fact that small-mindedness and mean-spiritedness are universal levellers. To err may very well be human, but to wish for violent revenge is, well, very human. Class of 1984 is one of the smartest of this, uh, cathartic genre; it is simultaneously a Push The Liberal Until He Snaps Movie and an Impotent White Male Liberal Revenge Fantasy movie. Everyone wins. Except women; it was made in 1982 so women get short shrift; being (mainly) either whores or wives to be sacrificed on the altar of manliness. If you are a regular reader of comics I should probably point out that this is not representative of women’s roles in the real world.

But then Class of 1984 is not set in the real world. For a start it was made in 1982 so it is set in the (then) near-future. “We are the future!” is the regular mocking  refrain of the violent urchins, and also of the typically ridiculous Alice Cooper title song, which exists only to remind you just how seriously you should take any of this. (Not very.) This is the near future of every frothing right wingers most secretive wet dreams. The inner city schools are crumbling concrete nests of perversion and lawlessness. Kids carry knives and deal drugs while the feeble faculty fall apart, turn to drink, or turn a blind eye. Feral monsters in torn clothes roam the halls; rulers of the fallen kingdom of academia. This is where weak-kneed liberalism, left-wing learning and the kind word in place of the hard fist get you: a violent hellish maelstrom only the force of a quiet white man pushed too damn far can tame. Yes, Class of 1984 is the kind of movie that makes rightwingers spaff so hard and so often that by the time the credits roll only dust is puffing out. But by the time the put upon teacher is putting the buzzsaw to bloody good use in the woodwork room, effete liberal cheesecakes will also be readjusting their tortoiseshell glasses and getting sweaty under their white collars. Something for everyone, like I said.

There’s little point unfolding the plot of Class of 1984 since it’s familiar stuff, but it is very well done stuff. It certainly delivers the expected multiple frissons as Andrew Norris (Perry King) finds every humane alternative barred to him as he is remorselessly forced down the rat run built from liberal society’s failure to face his inner beast. And there is a lovely build to the finale; in which the hopes and dreams of the normal students, in the form of a concert, is contrasted with the ultra-violent theatre of vengeance unfolding in the corridors beyond. For a movie aimed squarely at the amygdala Class of 1984 is surprisingly wittily and smartly written. it is also surprisingly wittily and smartly acted. Perry King is ridiculously chiselled of chin, but elicits much sympathy as his flailing increases, and you feel a sense of both triumph and loss as he finally grasps the nettle of his inner ferocity. Merrie Lynn Ross has little do as the sacrificial wife, Diane, but she effectively provides the foil of the sheltered person who doesn’t understand how bad things are in the real world. Unfortunately, in a very, very, (very) tough to watch scene, the bad things finally become impossible for her to ignore. The actual class are pretty great too. Really horrible, each and every one of the scrofulous, disrespectful little shits. Special mention, though, for Timothy Van Patten as the sociopathic ringleader, Peter Stegman. A truly nasty piece of work who plays the system and his single mother with even more finesse than the piano he unexpectedly excels at.

(The kids’ convincingly unhinged viciousness is vital since you are supposed to cheer as they fall before the force they have unleashed, a force more dangerous than nuclear fire; the angry white man pushed too far. And you will holler as they drop, because the young cast have done their awful work well. Mind you, you are only able to applaud their painful demises since they all look to be in their mid-20s. Had they actually looked like the teenagers they represent the whole thing would have been too unpleasant for anybody, well, anybody not in the NRA. Movies like this can’t get too near the knuckle; it’s part of the unspoken arrangement with the audience.)

But, unpopular news as it may be, not all the kids are shits. Future star Michael J. Fox plays the thankless role of Arthur, The Good Student, complete with puppy fat. Together with Erin Flannery’s Deneen he represents the kids who get left behind but just might make it. Bit of optimism there, snuck in amongst the eruptions of violence. But… Roddy McDowall! Dear, sweet, Roddy McDowall is a revelation. His slightly theatrical aspect is just spot on for Terry Corrigan, the teacher ground down to a desperate, alcoholic wreck, who cracks in a different way to Norris. His heart-breaking descent, together with Fox and Flannery’s kids are the secret heart of the movie. Class of 1984 flirts hot and heavy with nihilism, but is brave enough to finally put out for humanity. All the sturm und drang pandering to the basest emotions is camouflage for a small sliver of optimism. Which isn’t half bad for what’s basically Straw Dogs (1971) set in a 1980s American inner city high school. But, Christ, that Roddy McDowall. Respect is due, sir. As if kids today even know what respect is. The little shits.

#Class of 1984 #Movies #Exploitation #Science Fiction #Revenge #Mark L Lester #Tom Holland #Perry King #Merrie Lynn Ross #Timothy Van Patten #Michael J Fox #Erin Flannery #Roddy McDowall #1982 #The 1980s

[siyeonrk]

hello, rookies! I’m a little late to the party as always, but hi, i’m abbie and this is seoyeon or april, my third muse! 

i’ll list some fun facts for seoyeon under the cut but overall, she’s basically a rich, slightly entitled eighteen year old who’s back in seoul as of last summer to look after her ageing grandmother! she’s seoyeon’s world so even though she liked it in boarding school in england, coming back really wasn’t a hard decision at all and thus, here she is! she’s working as a baker in a little bakery called mayflour bakery and aspires to have her own bakery one day. 

so yeAH, below the cut are some fun facts, a short rundown of her backstory, potential collabs and some open plots!!!! comment a number for a starter based on an open plot ( unless it requires some plotting, then i’ll im you! ) or an emoji for a random starter! i’m doing them for charisma starters but there’s no cap, so please take a plot or comment an emoji to your heart’s content!! alternatively, like if you’d like to brainstorm or you have a plots page for me to take a gander at! 

as always, thank you, rookies!! ♥

quick links: profile, background. 

fun facts !!

can’t swim!! at all!! kind of afraid of the water, actually,,

stans k.arma and convex in the rookies’ universe, but also sonamoo and oh my girl. her convex bias is sehun and her k.arma bias is sana!! she also loves vanilla acoustic and their discography is basically the Perfect representation of her music taste — soft and flowery and,,, often acoustic

will fight you if you trash talk her faves,, 

picked ‘april’ as her english name because of tmnt,, i wish i was joking 

would die for gordon ramsay

hates spicy food and pranks ( unless they’re wholesome, of course, but the traditional sense of the word— whoopee cushions, or the stuff you see on youtube ) 

backstory !!

her maternal grandparents passed down their luxury hotel to seoyeon’s parents, so the latter are quite absent from her childhood. that being said, they try really hard not to be, so it’s not like in all the movies and dramas seoyeon watches where the rich kid becomes resentful. not even close.

bc they’re so busy, though, said grandparents have a really strong involvement in her life growing up, so they’re her entire world! 

( tw death ) sadly her grandfather passes naturally whilst she’s away at boarding school in england. her parents had asked her to go and used the fact that they’d never asked her to do anything else ( such as study business to inherit the hotel,, for that she’s Grateful ) as leverage to make her go. her only regret doing so is that she didn’t get those last couple years with her grandfather. ( end tw )

but she comes back another year later because her grandmother is getting old and sick and she needs someone who can look after her, so seoyeon returns to do so. 

she highkey loves being back and living with her, though, even if it pains her to see her struggle. she loves spending time with her and it’s given her the chance to get working in a bakery. ( everywhere else rejected her but she loves baking so much and she’d been hoping for one of the bakeries she applied to to accept her anyway, so all is well )

she’s balancing both now and loving life and all is wholesome and great,,, For Now

plots & prompts !! 

turtle power ( around her age, 4/4 ) — her four closest friends! don’t necessarily have to be a friendship group itself, but just the four people she holds dearest. she’ll save each as one of the teenage mutant ninja turtles because she’s a little bit of a loser like that. she’s a loyal friend and she’s got a credit card, so if you’re looking for someone to give bad advice, yell at people for you and then buy you lunch, seoyeon’s your girl. ( leonardo: @rkyeji. raphael: @rkjone. donatello: @rkheejin. michaelangelo: @jinsoulrk. )

sink or swim ( 0/1 ) — seoyeon can’t swim and you take it upon yourself to at least calm her fear of water. it’s really nothing to worry about, after all, especially in a swimming pool. 

rkmakeover ( unlimited ) — seoyeon’s always up for a little fun experimenting with make-up or dipping in and out of charity shops trying on the weirdest outfits ( chosen for each other, of course! ). 

cat-astrophe ( 0/1 ) — you don’t like cats and seoyeon is determined to change your mind; by taking you to a local cat cafe, of course. 

experiment #56 ( taken by @rkhaechan ) — you’re her willing test subject for today, trying all the new creations she’s been working on lately. she thinks the balance in her ingredients might be off a little bit and maybe you wouldn’t know the difference but who says no to free food? 

whispered secrets ( taken by @rkyerim ) — whilst it’s not exactly top secret that seoyeon lives with her sick grandmother, she doesn’t really like people knowing the truth behind her grandmother’s state. she tries to pretend everything is fine but you know, you’ve known her grandmother for years, and now you’re probably the only one seoyeon can comfortably talk to about how stressed she gets when she really sees her grandmother struggle. buckle in, this is a sad one. 

i’m on fire ( 0/3 ) — people who really grate on seoyeon’s patience. maybe you just have conflicting personalities, maybe you’re patronisingly better than her at something she loves or maybe you’re just slimy, but the two of you don’t get on yet somehow keep bumping into each other. what kind of luck, right? 

thereby hangs a tale ( 0/1 ) — someone who listens to all her stories from boarding school, and hopefully has a few life stories to tell themselves. she doesn’t like to dwell but she does like to reminisce. 

recognition ( public trainee or idol, 0/2 ) — she recognises you out and about and takes a photograph of you going about your day to post on her social media. however, you catch her and approach— to ask why she’s being so invasive? to offer a proper photograph together? that’s up to you! 

“let’s binge watch the other avengers movies ahead of endgame and argue over who’s the best avenger, deal? also it’s scott and you can’t tell me otherwise. yes I know he’s not in any of them but he’s still the best” taken by @rkxsnh

“how can you afford to come here every day??? bakeries aren’t cheap, you know, and isn’t it unhealthy to be eating so much cake constantly?? you’re— you just come to see me? well, you should’ve just introduced yourself instead of wasting all that money— you better have eaten all those cakes, I lovingly made them myself!!!” 

“hey, seoyeon, can you help me carry these bags?” “no thanks” 

“did you just say k.arma sucks?? do you want to catch these hands?????” 

COLLABS GALORE!! seoyeon’s music taste is pretty much entirely softer acoustic songs and gentle ballads. if you’re looking for a partner for anything like that, hmu!! here’s a list of songs she wants to cover: 

spring with you — vanilla acoustic & 20 years of age ( vocals, 0/1 )

us on a young night — fromm & 9z ( vocals, 0/1 )

pieces of you and me — fromm & giriboy ( vocals, 0/1 )

lullaby — onew & rocoberry ( vocals, 0/1 ) 

stay with me — punch & chanyeol ( vocals/rap, 0/1 )

#* ooc! #( if u don't know me by name; my other muses are seungcheolrk and rkwon! )

[jonathantaylorthomas]

[excerpt] 15. This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things

Does anyone apart from Pusha T relish a good diss track as much as Swift? 2017’s Reputation might have its patchy moments of just-out-of-date beats but it’s also full of deliciously vicious moments. I Did Something Bad was a beautiful middle finger to an ex (Calvin Harris, apparently), Look What You Made Me Do cut down her critics and this track, which is effectively a more bitter Bad Blood, battered Kim and Kanye. “Friends don’t try to trick you/Get you on the phone and mind-twist you” she sings in an apparent swipe at the ‘I made that b**** famous’ controversy, while underneath stuttering electro-pop clashes with tinkling piano. The chorus is Swift at her most bitingly patronising, smiling as she twists the knife in.

14. We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together

Swift managed her first US number one with We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together. The singer’s knack for an earworm is obvious here, with the song one of the simplest but strongest of her career. The rest of Red dabbles with pop but Swift’s country roots are still very visible here. A foot-stomping acoustic guitar riff is right at the heart of the track, which is a much lighter take on the relationship at the heart of All Too Well. The old Taylor might not be able to come the phone right now, but she was on top form here.

13. Our Song

Jaunty violins, talk about God, a Nashville accent that twangs like a banjo string: Our Song is Taylor in full country mode. It’s got all the hallmarks of her early verse-chorus-bridge songwriting, and Swift reportedly put it together in 20 minutes for her ninth grade talent show before the record company nabbed it for her debut album. Built around a colossal chorus, where her delivery cracks like a drum beat, Our Song is a vivid picture of her teenage years and a testament to Swift’s natural songwriting nous – a reminder that, despite the headlines, she’s built a career on talent, not merely hype and controversy. Tim McGraw, which starts the album, has much the same effect.

12. I Knew You Were Trouble

2012 album Red took Swift’s popularity to new levels and the universal appeal of I Knew You Were Trouble was a key part of that success. The song became one of the most parodied tracks of the year but even adding screaming goats into the mix couldn’t the hamper its impact. It’s perhaps surprising that despite the song’s success, the chorus marked one of the singer’s most experimental to date, flirting with dubstep, pop and dance influences. It’s the perfect example of Swift’s early musical experimentations – as was the U2-esque album opener State of Grace – which would eventually pave the way for the reinvention on 1989 two years later.

11. Shake It Off

Shake It Off is perhaps the perfect song to explain Taylor Swift and seems to encapsulate the contradictions which have made her a star. For everything that’s toe-curling and cringeworthy (see: “this sick beat”, the whole “my ex man” riff), it’s also infectious, irresistible and triumphantly confident; Swift knows it’s geeky and doesn’t care. It’s a song to shimmy to – and then to kiss your crush to, when she asks the fella with the hella good hair to shake, shake, shake. Grab the white wine and go be basic – sometimes it’s fun.

10. 22

While Swift can occasionally lean-in on her wry way of seeing the world, she’s also gloriously unafraid of big, dumb pop. 22 is almost comically simplistic: the opening guitar riff is just a watered down Wild Thing, the drum beat is mindlessly insistent – a bass kick on every single beat – and the main hook (“I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling 22”) has all the intelligence of a failed GCSE. None of it matters; the song is a joyous riot, set in a world where there are no pressures, no bills and the sun only goes down so everyone can go to bed together. It is fun, it is silly, it’s happiness is infectiously single-minded and the best lines come right at the end: “You look like bad news, I gotta have you”. There’s even Nile Rodgers-style guitar thrown in on the chorus. Splendid stuff. No wonder it’s said to be Harry Styles’ favourite Swift song.

9. Fifteen

Much has been made of Swift’s big transformation from country singer to pop behemoth but even before she was out of her teens she was flirting with stadium friendly rock. Still, Fifteen had plenty of banjo all over it, while her voice charmingly twangs as she talks boys and cars and heartbreak. Of which, it’s the lyrics that make this one: the song itself is so polished and clean it could have been assembled on a Tennessee production line, but Swift manages to infuse it with a sense of failed teenage romance that feels real – unsurprising, perhaps, given it’s based on her and her best friend Abigail Anderson’s years at Hendersonville High School.

“In your life you’ll do things greater than/Dating the boy on the football team/But I didn’t know it at fifteen” she sings, “Wish you could go back and tell yourself what you know now”. Ain’t that the truth.

8. Love Story

Ten years ago, pre-Kanye-at-the-VMAs, Swift was, in Britain at least, still that country girl with that one catchy song. This was that song; a hopelessly romantic tale of teenage love, Shakespeare’s Romeo & Juliet over pop-punk guitars and key changes and, of course, a happy ending replacing the tragedy. Eight million copies sold, making it the best selling country single of all time and paving the way for the decade of massive success that followed.

7. Blank Space

Blank Space is a minimalist masterpiece that paradoxically is crammed with hooks (something she manages again, like a magic trick, on Clean). The song in itself is actually surprisingly slow-moving; chords are long, drawn-out and the drums snap but are unhurried. The genius here in is Swift’s vocals, which are catchy enough that the whole thing seems to be one long chorus. Blank Space also marks the beginning of Swift sending herself up; in it, she satirises her media image as a man-obsessed, relationship addicted nightmare who serially dates for songwriting material. Hilariously, the key line (“Got a long list of ex-lovers/They’ll tell you I’m insane”) has often been misheard – including by her own mother – as “all the lonely Starbucks lovers”, which rather changes the point somewhat. The video is a work of art too, introducing the world to the ‘new Taylor’ – before the new Taylor became the old, dead Taylor. Oh, and look out for her slip up at 3.40, it’s hilarious.

6. New Year’s Day

The beautiful, reverb soaked piano that flutters through New Year’s Day is a sign of what could be to come for Swift – not now, perhaps, but maybe in 20 years. It could be played then and just as good. If All Too Well is her great grown-up heartbreak track, this is her great grown-up love song. Whereas 1989’s You Are In Love used a similar sound for a rip of Bruce Springsteen’s Street’s of Philadelphia, here it’s more of a James Blake vibe. The beauty is in the simplicity; this is a love as rational as it is passionate. The metaphor is about being there for the good times (the party at midnight) and the bad (cleaning up bottles on New Year’s Day). There is a stroke of brilliance, too: “Please don’t ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognise anywhere” she sings as a reprise, realising what too few of us do until it’s too late: love is as fragile as it precious.

5. You Belong With Me

Taylor has a long-standing love affair with power chords and pop-punk goodness. On Red, there’s Holy Ground, before that was Speak Now’s girl-breaking-free-to-rule-the-world Long Live and before that was You Belong With Me on Fearless. It’s sometimes criticised for being too similar to her other early hits but in truth, it’s just the best example of them. It’s also wonderfully full Taylor: she plays the self-deprecating dork in love with her best friend, and the video is completely, brilliantly hysterical. There are all the elements needed: crashing guitars, unrequited love, a little teenage angst. It’s far from perfect: the lyrics are her corniest, the premise is cliched and the country embellishments have been tactlessly tacked on as if purely to placate the country audience. But, in the end, it’s catchy, sweetly endearing and you’ll be singing along merrily. If you want another fill of the good stuff, put on Fearless, which is just a little less catchy but with a better guitar solo.

4. Ronan

Little known, not on any albums and barely performed live – to date it’s only been aired twice, with the first version live on a Stand Up to Cancer telethon the one to listen to – Ronan perhaps seems a unlikely entry on the list, but it stands the Swift song that aches the most, and is unlike anything else she’s written. Over the chime of trembling guitar chords, she sings as the voice of Maya Thompson, a mother who lost her four-year-old Ronan to cancer. Written after reading Thompson’s blog, Swift articulates the unsteady, insistent rhythm of grief with painful clarity. In the end, like in life, the loss stings the sharpest in the little things. “And it’s about to be Halloween, you could be anything you wanted” she sings, her voice shaking and her eyes glassy with tears, “If you were still here.”

3. Out Of The Woods

Like the heartbroken logic in All You Had To Do Was Stay (the song Ryan Adams’ did best on his mixed 1989 cover album), it’s the naivety in this one that makes it so damned sad. Jack Antonoff produced a piece of driving rock dressed up as radio-pop, the stuttering drums and Blade Runner synths casting shadows over everything, the choir on the chorus giving it enough size to fill stadiums. It’s one for anyone who’s been wrapped up in a love that’s left them shaky with the uncertainty of it all, who’s gone to sleep and woken up with the same thought, of praying they’re getting as much love as they’re giving.

2. Style

Like a designer parading a new collection down the runway, Swift showcased her new direction perfectly on this aptly titled track. Pulsating synths drive the verses along before a huge sing-along chorus kicks in, marking a dramatic change from her guitar-led earlier compositions. It’s a formula that Swift would return to time and time again in her later work, not least on the similar Getaway Car from 2017 album reputation. The song remains a highlight at Swift’s live shows — after all, pop hooks as good as this will never go out of style.

1. All Too Well

Everyone jokes about the lost scarf, but this is Swift’s most sincere tale of heartbreak and is heartbreaking itself. Though it takes a handful of listens at least to ‘get’ this track, it’s worn out and weary and the hurt goes deep. Swift says it was one of the hardest to write, and it’s one of the hardest to listen to; she sounds like she’s singing right from the bones and it’s searingly, uncomfortably intimate. Having it on doesn’t feel so much like listening as eavesdropping: other ruminations in her back catalogue are broader, relatable, but here we’re hearing her specific turmoil. Nowhere else on record does she sound as cut up the way she does halfway through this one – Jake Gyllenhaal, you realise, really broke her heart.

Plenty of Swift songs are overwrought, but the drama here is sincere: her voice trembles with pain, and the song, which starts sparse, swells and hardens up like a lump in the throat. It’s little surprise the original cut was 10 minutes long; the song is cinematic, with a touch of Raymond Carver in the sparse, classically American lyrics: “'Cause there we are again in the middle of the night/We’re dancing round the kitchen in the refrigerator light”.

When she gets to end of it, there are lines that induce a wince: “You call me up again just to break me like a promise/So casually cruel in the name of being honest” she says. Then you hear her lost to her heartbreak: “Time won’t fly, it’s like I’m paralyzed by it/I’d like to be my old self again/But I’m still trying to find it”. Love – especially when it cools – changes everything.

#this list is a mess #lol

[sophieebdaily]

Sophie gave a really strong and powerful interview for today’s edition of ‘You Magazine’ talking about her book ‘Spinning Plates’, out on October 7th. She looked back in her old days and there are some deep relevation she’s never talked about before and personally it shocked me a lot. Read the article below, written by Hattie Crisell:

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With six albums, five children, a podcast and her fabulous lockdown kitchen discos, SOPHIE ELLIS-BEXTOR appears to lead a perfect charmed life. But as she tells Hattie Crisell, writing her new memoir took her back to much darker days.

This is the second time I have interviewed singer Sophie Ellis-Bextor, and she is exactly as I remember her. I’m not referring to her appearance, although of course she’s memorably striking – tall, green-eyed and beautiful, and today wearing a typically colourful floral jumpsuit that she picked up for £20 at a festival.

But there’s also something distinctive about her manner, which I admired last time, and even find myself envying. Sophie puts it best in her new memoir, Spinning Plates: Music, Men, Motherhood and Me. ‘It’s been my goal to be unapologetic. Kind, considerate, but clear with my boundaries.’ And that’s exactly how she comes across.

It’s not always easy for women to maintain those boundaries, and I include myself among them – traditionally, we’ve been encouraged to ease social encounters by being obliging. But while Sophie is polite, friendly, and prone to bursts of raucous laughter, she also projects a steady, low-key faith in who she is and what she thinks. Interviewing her is straightforward precisely because her boundaries are clear: I know that if she objects to a topic, she will say so. Yet when I warn her that I have questions about the more difficult parts of her book, she assures me that she feels fine talking about any of it.

Because the thing is, the 42-year-old woman I’m having lunch with today – an artist who has released six studio albums, produced five children and entertained the nation through lockdown with her famous kitchen discos – is in a much happier place than the girl I’ve been reading about in her memoir, who perhaps didn’t have that confidence. While Sophie always felt she was destined to be famous (‘Cringy to write but also true,’ as it says in the book), she went through a number of deeply unpleasant experiences in her late teens and early 20s that have shaped who she is today.

It started, she explains, with the ladette culture at the end of the 1990s, just as she was emerging from adolescence. The ladette ‘drank pints and had one-night stands, she could talk the talk and walk the walk, she wore a Wonderbra and could banter with the boys. She was ‘who I was supposed to be,’ writes Sophie. It was all about showing bravado when it came to sex and booze; but there wasn’t space to let on if you were uncomfortable or felt vulnerable. ‘It was intimidating and I felt way out of my league.’

Sophie joined her first band, Theaudience, aged 17, and soon started to be interviewed by male journalists, all of whom were older. They asked questions about her favourite sexual positions and commented on her breasts. During an early appearance on Never Mind The Buzzcocks, she was mocked humiliatingly for being the daughter of a Blue Peter presenter (Janet Ellis), and told ‘You’re not cool.’

And then there was her image, which was treated just as brutally. One photographer took an upskirt photo of her without her knowledge and sold it to the papers. Later, when Theaudience’s second album had faltered, she took work as a model. During a photo shoot to promote a hair salon, she was pressured into posing semi-topless, despite this being against the terms she’d agreed with her agency. Those photos – ‘me with sequins barely covering my modesty and the saddest eyes ever’, she writes – were eventually sold to Heat magazine.

None of this seedy treatment should be surprising to anyone who remembers the late 90s, yet two particularly damaging experiences stand out. At 17, Sophie met a man in a club and went back to his flat. They started kissing, but when she told him to stop, he didn’t. This rape – a term she took a while to recognise, because consent wasn’t such a hot topic at the time – is how she lost her virginity.

The second experience began shortly afterwards, when Sophie was studying for her A-levels: it was a relationship with an older man that lasted for several years and was increasingly abusive. ‘Teeny tiny, almost imperceptible shifts that make you think it’s normal to be routinely humiliated in public, or to be told you’re an idiot when you make a mistake, or that you’re past it and wrinkly. Before you know it you’re being threatened if you try to show independence,’ she writes. At its worst, her boyfriend wouldn’t allow her to walk down the street alone or look out of the car window. During one argument, he twisted her wrist so hard that the next day it was too swollen for her to put on a watch. She’s opened up about this now simply because a publisher approached her about writing a book, and lockdown seemed as good a time as any. Still, there was plenty to fill her autobiography, including tales of teenage rebellion, a rise to major pop success, an unexpected baby in her mid-20s, and life with a large family – so why did she choose to include these very personal traumas?

‘I think firstly, those things are really quite common,’ she says, as we dig in to lunch at a restaurant near her home in West London – a tiny eaterie where Sophie is such a regular the waitress already knows her order. ‘I think a lot of people have those experiences, and I’m hoping they resonate and reassure them a bit. I remember, in the midst of writing, I read Candice Brathwaite’s book I Am Not Your Baby Mother, and she talks about a similar experience for her. I thought, “Wow – actually seeing it written down by someone else, I find that reassuring.”’

Part of the reason the abuse was so insidious was that her ex’s constant criticisms and put-downs were so casually delivered. ‘You just think, “Oh, this must be what a grown-up relationship is like, this must be how people talk, this must be normal,”’ she says. ‘So much so that with my husband Richard [Jones, bass player in The Feeling], I almost thought, if I did something silly, “Why are you not calling me an idiot? Oh, OK, is that still passionate, then?” And actually yeah, you don’t have to go around punching people to be an amazingly strong person.’

What she went through, she thinks, has helped her to call out abusive behaviour in other situations. ‘Certainly, I’ve been straight-talking with girlfriends about things I think aren’t very healthy. Hopefully, I’ve done it in a way that’s tactful, but sometimes you just have to say to people, “You don’t seem very happy, and I’m just going to repeat back to you the things that you’re telling me,” and hold a mirror up to it, really. Then people make their own decisions.’

Though most of the book is more lighthearted, these two painful events were the chapters she wrote first. ‘I thought, I really want to tell those stories now. It was going back to give myself a voice, the times when I didn’t say something. And also I thought, if you’re going to write a book, what’s the point? To me being brave and bold and honest is all part of it.’ She’s keen to show her fans that an abusive relationship doesn’t have to dictate your future. ‘You can still end up somewhere happy and not be defined by things that weren’t great. Plus, I suppose it was a way of coming to terms with it myself, because you contextualise it in a different way than you did at the time – particularly the dynamic of how women were being written about back then, and what was seen as the goal of how to be a successful young woman. I think that was quite damaging for my generation.’ The ladette stuff? ‘Yeah. I think among my peers, we’re probably all able to say, “What was that about? Thank goodness we don’t have to think about that any more.”’

Though she’s been married for 16 years to Richard and seems to live a largely happy life, what she went through left its mark. She writes in the book that she recently went to a boxing class with her husband, and when the instructor suggested they spar and Richard raised his fists in preparation, she burst into tears: ‘It took me completely by surprise. The sparring had reminded me of something I’d put in a hidden corner of my memory.’

Her ex sounds vile, I say, and she nods. ‘You do crazy things, don’t you? You give so much of yourself. I tried so hard to turn it into something it was never ever going to be. But I did get out. I did change it.’

She talked the book over with her husband before she started it. ‘Richard was incredibly encouraging,’ she says. ‘And we’ve been together a long time now, so there were no surprises. I think he understood the reason why I was motivated to write it; to maybe reach other people in similar situations. He thought it was important for me to do that.’ Her parents, Janet Ellis and the film-maker Robin Bextor, have both read it. ‘Most people that know me, of course, they know bits anyway,’ she says, then laughs, ‘and they also focus on all the stuff that involves them.’

Her kids – Sonny, 17, Kit, 12, Ray, nine, Jesse, five, and Mickey, two – were another reason for writing it. ‘They can start thinking about how they feel about those sorts of things as they get older,’ she says. The book explains that she taught them about consent early on: ‘When they play we use the words, “Stop” and “No”, and they are powerful. No matter how much fun they’ve been having up to that point, if one of them – even laughing – says “No” or “Stop”, then they must stop whatever they are doing. I want to raise considerate, kind people who can take other people’s feelings into account.’

None of them has read her memoir, but Sophie has already told her eldest son what she went through. ‘You gauge it on each child. It might be that it’s not right to talk about it at the same stage with the next child down, but certainly with Sonny I felt like he could understand. I did it in a way that was appropriate – I just told him, “I spent a lot of my time in something that wasn’t great, and you don’t have to do the same.” I’m selective, but I try to give them the insight of whatever I’ve learnt – it’s part of raising someone.’

Beyond that, she’s not worried about their reactions to the book. ‘I don’t think there’s anything that I would struggle to talk to them about. In fact, if I’m perfectly honest, I think they’re going to be pretty uninterested in the whole thing!’ She laughs. ‘My mum’s quite an open person. I’ve learnt things about her from what she’s said on the radio. That’s how she’s comfortable talking about herself, and it’s never bothered me, so my kids have just got to deal with it. They can cope with knowing I’m a whole adult person who lived a life before I was with their dad.’

Her life involved a lot more than the bruising experiences mentioned above. Sophie writes about her parents’ split when she was four, but also about the playground kudos that came with her mother’s presenter role on Blue Peter. Sophie talks fondly of the step-parents she acquired as a child – her mother’s husband John Leach (who died last summer) and her father’s wife Polly Mockford. And she charts the arrival over the years of her younger siblings: Jackson Ellis Leach, 34, who is a drummer in Sophie’s band, Martha Ellis Leach, 30, Dulce Bextor, 24, and 23-year-old twins Bertie and Maisy Bextor.

But perhaps the most heartwarming section of the book is devoted to her husband. It’s a love letter of sorts, that details the kindness and respect he has always shown her, and the easy friendship that evolved into more. She met Richard towards the end of her relationship with the abusive ex, when he auditioned to join her band. She recalls that the first thing she ever said to him was, ‘Nice amp,’ which was surprising, she writes, because ‘it is the only time in my life I’ve either a) really looked at an amp or b) complimented anyone on one.’ At home, they now have a neon sign bearing the words ‘nice amp’.

Things moved fast. She found out she was pregnant six weeks into their relationship, when they hadn’t even yet exchanged ‘I love you’. Shocked, Sophie considered terminating the pregnancy – ‘but I couldn’t get to that headspace,’ she writes. ‘As my tummy grew, so did the love that Richard and I felt for each other.’ Then, nine months after Sonny was born, Richard proposed to her – though she blurted out ‘Yes!’ before he’d even asked the question.

When I bring up this high romance, she becomes a bit awkward. The chapter on Richard was the hardest to write, she admits. ‘I’m not very good at that kind of thing. But I was much better at writing it down than I am at talking about it.’ She knows he liked it, but he didn’t say much, which she seems relieved about. ‘He’s much more likely to be romantic than I am, so he probably didn’t want to embarrass me.’

Whether or not she can say it out loud, her book suggests they are very well suited and deeply devoted to each other – but that’s not to say they haven’t been through some tough times. During Sophie’s pregnancy with Sonny, and even while she was still in hospital after his birth, she was trying to untangle her finances from those of her ex. Despite being given her home studio equipment and a brand-new car in the split, he felt he was entitled to more. Her pregnancy was also mysteriously leaked to the press, leading her to worry about who she could trust with personal information; it later emerged that her phone, as well as her mother’s and Richard’s, had been hacked.

Then at 28 weeks pregnant she was diagnosed with pre-eclampsia, a condition which causes high blood pressure and meant that Sonny needed to be delivered by caesarean two months early. Sonny stayed in hospital for six weeks, with Sophie and Richard visiting twice a day. But it’s what happened a couple of months after he returned home, when the new family had settled into a happy routine, that makes for the most alarming reading. Sophie woke to find that Sonny had slept through his usual feeding time, and had a temperature of over 41C. He had meningitis.

Thankfully, the doctors were able to treat him quickly and his temperature was back under control later that day – ‘but I think the jolt of fear and adrenaline took a while to process,’ writes Sophie. ‘For years after I would freak out if any of the kids had a high fever.’

She’s typically philosophical now when she reflects on the stress of that period. ‘The main thing was, we didn’t know any different, and I’m quite an optimistic person anyway so I didn’t go through it all in a state of panic,’ she tells me. ‘It’s more that I look back and think of it as quite an intense period of our lives. Richard and I deal with quite a lot all the time and I think that was what forged our ability to cope – because there was not any let-up.’

Perhaps it also primed them to cope with the wobble in their marriage that was to come nine years later – during Sophie’s 2013 stint on Strictly Come Dancing, in which she was a finalist. She doesn’t mince her words about this experience in the book: ‘It was the best of times, it was the worst of times,’ she writes.

Her opinion of the show is based on that series, so it’s hard to know whether it would resonate with more recent participants – but I suspect much of it would. She believes pastoral care is lacking, and that there should be a counsellor on board to make sure everyone’s coping. ‘Everybody’s dealing with really big, real-life things, and it takes over probably like nothing else you’ve ever done,’ she says. ‘So much of it is ridiculously wonderful – the sets, the lighting, the music, the costumes, the make-up. I just think if there was a bit more emotional support for the people in the midst of it, it would at least be a nod to the fact that they’re thinking about it.’

She points out how demanding the schedule is, with rehearsals or recording six days a week for up to 13 weeks. The professional dancers, she believes, shoulder more strain than they should: ‘I think I was very unusual in that I never cried in front of Brendan [Cole, her dance partner]. But they’re like counsellors as well. I heard stories about previous contestants. You know, imagine the confessional at the hairdressers, and then pretend you’re doing a paso doble with your hairdresser.’

Richard (who gave his blessing for her to write about this) struggled with her involvement in the show. ‘At the TV studio everything was adrenaline-fuelled and exciting but at home things were strained and I was finding it hard to give Richard the reassurance and support he needed,’ she writes. It took a while after the show finished for their marriage to recover.

She also found the judges’ emphasis on sexual chemistry deeply uncomfortable. ‘When we did the Argentine tango, all the comments were about whether it came across as a man having an affair with his other woman, because that’s apparently what that dance is about,’ she says, still a little incredulous. ‘And I’m like, “I’m not sure I want an extra couple of points for looking like I’m having an affair, because my grandpa’s watching, and my husband’s in the audience.”’

Did she expect Strictly to have an impact on her marriage? ‘God no! I had no bloody idea. I’d never seen it.’ Though she doesn’t name names, it’s well documented that two celebrities’ marriages ended during that series. ‘That’s not a small-fry thing,’ she says. ‘If I go on tour and there’s 15 of us in a crew bus, I don’t have two of them leave their partners at the end of the tour.’

Speaking of tours, her next one as a headliner – the Kitchen Disco Tour – has been pushed back to March next year. In the meantime, she’s promoting the appropriately titled Spinning Plates in between recording episodes of her podcast of the same name, performing at festivals, gearing up to support Steps on tour, and dealing with her toddler’s nocturnal wanderings (the week I meet Sophie, she and Mickey had spent a night sleeping on the floor outside her bedroom). She likes to be busy, but is glad the book allowed her a moment to stop and think.

‘My 40s are a good time to reflect on where I’m at,’ she says. ‘I’m clear in my mind about what I want, but also a lot more open, and more aware of where I’ve been in the past. For me the book is all part of taking stock, and thinking actually, I’m quite a happy person.’ She does seem happy – and refreshingly unapologetic, too.

Photos: Laura Lewis

#you magazine #photos #sophie ellis bextor #spinning plates

[sodoyouknowbts]

Taehyung x Reader - One Night Stand (Four)

Part of the ‘Married to You’ Series.

Summary: A one night stand with Kim Taehyung turns into something you never would’ve expected.

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Genre: Romance, Drama, Arranged Marriage

Author: Moxie

Chapters: 01 & 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 (The Finale)

Chapter Four:

It was finally the weekend and you were relaxing at home watching Netflix on the projector screen in the theatre room. Taehyung had installed an incredible sound system and had leather recliner chairs put in. The entire room was soundproof and blacked out so no sunlight could get in. It must’ve cost him a mint but it was definitely worth it in your opinion because it felt just as though you were at the movies.

You were currently engrossed in the latest episode of your drama, a romance about a man and a woman who were childhood sweethearts that were separated, only to meet again as adults 10 years later. They try to carry on and make their love work but fate keeps getting in the way. This week’s episode was an emotional roller-coaster in particular. The couple were facing another challenge and it looked as though this might be the end for them.

“No don’t give up! He loves you!” you cry at the screen. Your hand clutching the tissue box tightly.

You anticipate what might happen next when your phone starts ringing, ruining the moment. You consider letting it ring out until you see that it’s Taehyung calling.

Weird, he never calls.

“Hello?” you sniffle trying to compose yourself. “Taehyung?”

“I left my wallet at home.”

“Oh you did? That’s a shame” your attention is drawn back to the screen and you reply absentmindedly. As the lead female turns to leave the lead male grabs her arm and spins her around dramatically until she falls into his chest. He stares at her with longing and slowly leans in.

This is it!  Finally! You think to yourself.

“Yeah…can you bring it to me?”

Their lips touch and the scene slows down as the background music starts playing.

“Yes!” you cheer, jumping up and down in your seat in excitement. You had been waiting for the two leads to kiss for weeks. However, your moment of joy is fleeting as you quickly remember that you’re still on the phone to Taehyung.

“Wait what did you say?” you ask.

Taehyung lets out a deep sigh before responding “I need my wallet, I left it on the kitchen counter.”

“Oh, yeah okay not a problem” you tell him “Where are you right now?”

“I’ll text you the address, don’t get lost.”

–

You didn’t get lost. In fact, 20 minutes later you found yourself standing outside of Taehyung’s agency. This was the first time you had been there since the two of you got married and you had always wondered what it was like. You were also curious to see Taehyung at work.

Looking around you note that the place was just like you had imagined. The building was incredibly spacious and it almost felt like you were walking into a hotel. The white walls were decorated with expensive looking art pieces as well as portraits of the models and actors in the company. The décor was clean and minimal, favouring white marble and silver hardware. The entire place screamed money.

You stop at a painting that catches your eye. It looked like the painter had taken a black canvas and drawn a bunch of lines in various different colours. The lines were all crossed with each other and the entire thing looked messy but for some reason you couldn’t look away. You don’t realize that you have zoned out until someone calls out your name, pulling you back to reality. You turn around surprised and see Jay approaching you.

“Hey what a surprise to see you here!” Jay exclaims smiling widely. The first time you had met Jay he was wearing a black suit but now he was dressed casually and you immediately note his unique outfit. He was wearing a blue striped dress shirt with bright green sweat pants and red sandals.

“Are you here to see Taehyung?” he asks.

You smile back politely and nod. You’re not completely sure how to act as the last time you had been around Jay you had cried like a baby in front of him. Just thinking about it made you cringe with embarrassment. The media still didn’t know that you were pregnant so he had kept your secret, for now.

“He forgot his wallet so I came to bring it to him” you hold up the wallet and show him.

“Wow you’re such a loving wife. Come on I’ll take you to him.” Jay replies indicating to the nearby elevators with a nod of his head.

You follow behind Jay and as you both wait for the elevator you take this chance to clear the air.

“So listen…about that other night. I’m sorry I cried, that’s not like me at all. I don’t usually cry in front of strangers.”

“Don’t be, it’s understandable given your situation. Hell, I was going to cry for you,” his light-hearted comment makes you chuckle and you can tell he’s trying to make you feel better.

“Thank you. And about what I said, you know about the pregnancy…”

“Don’t worry my lips are sealed. I won’t tell anyone your secret” he zips his lips and throws away the key.

You’re relieved at his words and you feel a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. Taehyung hasn’t mentioned anything about making your pregnancy public and you didn’t know what you would do if word got out because of you. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how he would react.

Would he be angry at you?

Wait a minute you think to yourself. Why do I care if he gets angry? I’m the one that’s pregnant. It’s going to come out sooner or later so why do I need his permission?

“…and he can be such a diva” you catch the end of Jay’s sentence. Wait when did he start talking?

“Sorry, what was that?” you ask.

“V. He’s always so private with his belongings, I’m surprised he let you touch his wallet. Although I guess it makes sense since you’re his wife” Jay replies.

“V?” you repeat the name unsure but then you remember that Jay had called Taehyung that the other night as well. “Do you mean Taehyung?”

“Yep, in high school his nickname was V. I call him that every now and then”

The elevator door opens and you both walk in. Jay presses the button for the fifth floor and the doors close.

“You’ve known him since high school?” you enquire curiously.

“Since we were kids actually! We both moved here from the countryside” he boasts proudly. “I know all about V. Did you know that he used to be really ugly? It’s a miracle that he grew up to become a model”.

“What no way!? I don’t believe you!” you reply back shocked. There was no way Taehyung could’ve been an ugly kid. The man was a walking god. He wasn’t born, he was carved from gold and put down on earth ready to break women’s hearts.

“Believe it! Here I’ll show you a photo.” Jay pulls out his phone and shows you an old photo of two boys, probably around six or seven, sitting in a sand pit. You recognise one of the boys immediately as Jay because he had the same smile. Beside him sat someone you didn’t know. He was wearing overalls and holding a bright red bucket full of sand. His dark hair was messy, sticking up random places and his face was grubby. His mouth was opened wide to show two missing teeth.

“See that boy chubby boy?” he pointed to the boy in overalls and you nod in response. “That’s Taehyung.”

No way! You can’t believe your eyes. There was no way the chubby little boy in this photo could be Kim Taehyung. There was no sign of the world’s top model at all.

“This is a joke, right?” you ask as Jay shakes his head.

“What other photos of Taehyung do you have?” Taehyung didn’t have any childhood photos of himself around the house so you were curious now to see what he was like.

“Oh! Oh! I’ve got the greatest photo to show you!” Jay exclaims excitedly. He bounces up and down on his toes as he scrolls quickly through his phone trying to find the photo. He finally stops scrolling and whatever it is it must be hilarious because he starts to laugh uncontrollably.

“What, what is it?” you query, leaning closer to Jay. He shows you his phone and the moment you see the photo you burst out in laughter. You laugh so hard your side begins to ache.

The photo was of a teenage Taehyung, probably in his early teens around thirteen, posing for the camera. He was wearing black pants with a black leather t-shirt and around his neck was a thick gold chain with a large dollar sign pendent, similar to the ones you see in old rap music videos. To finish off the look he had a white bandana tied around his head. However, it wasn’t the outfit, though hideous as it was, that had you both in a laughing fit. It was the face Taehyung was pulling.

He had his bottom lip between his teeth and his face was tilted back, giving the camera his best seductive face. It was terrible. It was also the greatest thing you had ever seen.

Kim Taehyung was famous for his smouldering and seductive stare that made girls faint. It was dubbed the “drop-your-panties” stare by his fans. You had seen it on a billboard once when he was advertising a cologne and you had almost crashed your car. It was definitely worthy of the name.

However, the Taehyung in his photo was anything but sexy. He looked like an absolute dork. You felt as though you had just won the lottery. This was the perfect blackmail. There was no way in hell Taehyung would let this photo see the light of day. If you had this photo he would never cross you.

“You have to send me this!” you gasp for breath. Your brain was already going through ways in which you could use the photo to torture Taehyung.

“I’ll send it now, what’s your number?” Jay takes down your number and sends he photo true to his words.

You clutch your side and brace yourself against Jay’s arm trying to pull yourself together. You’re both still in hysterics when the elevator door opens and you see a familiar face.

“I was wondering what was taking you so long”

The moment your eyes take in Taehyung you stop laughing. You feel as though all the air had left your lungs. Standing before you wasn’t your husband but the most famous model in the world. Taehyung was dressed in a navy-blue uniform jacket with gold buttons and matching navy-blue pants. The jacket was buttoned all the way to his collar and you wondered if he was wearing anything underneath. His hair was styled in loose waves and his fringe covered most of his eyes.

You couldn’t help but gape at the vision in front of you. If this was a scene in your drama there would be a spotlight on Taehyung and angelic singing. You could practically hear the church choir in your head.

Taehyung’s gaze drops to your hand on Jay’s arm and you immediately pull your hand away and straighten yourself.

“I didn’t ask you to come here and flirt.” Taehyung scoffs noting how close you and Jay were standing.

Your feel the heat rise to your face at his remark. The nerve of this punk!

You can’t believe he just insinuated that you were flirting with Jay. Before you can shoot back a response Jay beats you to it.

“Aww V are you jealous?” he slings an arm around Taehyung’s shoulder’s and squeezes him in an affectionate way. “You know I only have eyes for you.” Jay lays his head on Taehyung’s shoulder and bats his eyelashes playfully.

Taehyung looks at Jay in mock disgust and shrugs him off. He places his hand on Jay’s face and pushes him away replying “Grow up Jay!”.

Jay clutches his cheek and pretends to be hurt. “How could you be so rough with me you evil man?”

You chuckle at their banter. You had never seen Taehyung be playful and so the scene was refreshing.

“Go away. Don’t you have a meeting to get to?” Taehyung scolds kicking Jay in the butt.

“Fine, fine I’ll go. Just know that I’ll never forgive you, you heartless man!” Jay cries dramatically before turning and giving you a mischievous wink.  You smile back at his ridiculousness.

Seeing the exchange between you and Jay, Taehyung takes a hold of your hand and pulls you back into the elevator. “Whatever, we’re going now. Bye” he says before hitting the Ground button and closing the doors, not bothering to wait for a reply.

“Hey!” you begin to protest but stop when Taehyung silences you with his stare.

You were going to scold him for being rude but you decide to let the subject drop. Instead you stand in silence with Taehyung as the elevator descends. The soft melody from the speakers filling the space.

You sneak a glance at him from the corner of your eye. His side profile is just as nice as his front you admire. His long earring catches your attention and you’re surprised when you see it because you hadn’t realised that he had his ears pierced. You start to count how many piercings he has.

As if feeling your eyes on him Taehyung glances your way. “What?” he asks catching you off guard.

“Huh? Oh, nothing” you reply back smiling sheepishly at having been caught staring.

You reach the ground floor and you notice that Taehyung is leading you towards the exit so you ask him where you were going.

“I’ve finished work” he replied matter-of-factly as though that explained why you were both walking towards the nearby convenience store.

As if reading your mind again Taehyung adds “I’m hungry, I want some ramen”.

You both enter the store and the old man at the counter welcomes you. You quickly send back a thank you and chase after Taehyung who had already disappeared down an aisle. You find him in the dry food aisle looking at ramen. He picks out 3 packets and turns to leave but stops suddenly and grabs another.

Is this guy seriously going to eat 4 packets of ramen?

You hand him his wallet and as you make your way to the counter to pay, a group of high school girls walk in and the moment they see Taehyung they start to fuss, clutching onto each other in excitement.  You glance at Taehyung to see if he’s noticed his admirers but he appears to be clueless. He hands over the packets of ramen to the old man who begins to process them.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe that’s Kim Taehyung. He’s so hot!”

“He’s so tall! Oh my god I can’t breathe”

“Who is that girl with him? She’s so ugly”

“Yeah who does she think she is? That’s our Taehyung”

Even though they were whispering you could clearly hear what they were saying. You glance at Taehyung again to see if he could hear but his attention is still on the old man. Most likely not.

You try not to take notice of what they were saying because they didn’t know you and you could understand that Taehyung was their idol and they felt possessive of him, however it was hard not to take their words to heart. It was like you were back in the toilet listening to those ladies gossiping. You weren’t an idiot. You knew that marrying Taehyung would open the door for people to ridicule and talk about you and at the time you thought you could handle it and brush it off, but hearing people criticise you in person is a lot different from imagining it.

“Why would she wear that? It’s so ugly”

“Taehyung oppa should be with someone prettier”

Every one of their comments felt like a knife to you heart and you felt all of your insecurities rise to the surface. Don’t listen to them, they don’t know you. You bit the inside of your lip as you try to fight back the tears.

“He looked so much better with Anna”

There was that name again. Anna.

“Yeah they were perfect together. Anna is so much prettier”

I know she is.

“And taller”

I know she is.

“Anna deserves to be with our Taehyung. Not this cow”

Please stop!

You close your ears and pray for them to stop. You don’t know how much more you can take before your tears threaten to spill.

You suddenly feel someone take your hand and when you open your eyes you see that Taehyung has your hand in his, your fingers interlocked. You glance up at him and find that his attention hasn’t shifted. Earlier you had thought that he couldn’t hear the girls but it was clear now that he could. He had heard everything and this was his way of comforting you.

You feel that same little flutter in your stomach and you can no longer hear what the girls are saying.

Your hand looks small compared to his and you notice that his hand feels surprisingly rough. You can feel the spots where he had callouses from lifting weights. Most women would find rough hands a deterrent but you find yourself not minding it. You like the way your hand feels in his. You couldn’t remember the last time you held hands with a man and this felt nice. Safe.

Most of the time Taehyung acted cold and aloof and you assumed that he didn’t care about anything but maybe you were wrong?

Thanking the old man, Taehyung take the bag and turns to you, his expression is soft.

“Come on, let’s go home”

That’s all you need to hear before you nod.

He squeezes your hand as you walk past the group of teenagers who have summoned up the courage to talk to him.

“Taehyung, could we please get a photo with you? We’re really big fans” one of them asks, smiling sweetly.

She’s the one that called you ugly.

“No, sorry. I’m busy with my wife. Also, I don’t need fans who say unkind things” his replies coolly and brushes past them.

His response shuts them down completely and when you turn back to look at them their faces are a mask of shock and disbelief. You feel a little bit bad for them but the feeling is short lived.

One you hit the sidewalk Taehyung leads you back to the front of the agency where his car is parked. You continue to walk in a comfortable silence, your hand still intertwined with his. Perfectly content.

What is this feeling? Why is my heart beating so fast?

--

To be continued.

#kim taehyung #bts fiction #btsfiction #bts taehyung #taehyung #v #bts v #btsxreader #bts tae tae #taehyung x reader #v x reader #bts fluff #bts smut #taehyung smut

[hrrytomlinson]

here are a bunch of fucking fantastic fics I’ve enjoyed and loved reading throughout the month of october. I recommend that you read these great fics in november, if you haven’t already!! also check out the Reverse Big Bang and 31 Days of Smut!

(all fics with a star are my favorites and if there are two stars then it was a favorite favorite)

1. Damn the Dark, Damn the Light 20k

“Why is this face of beauty ringing so true?” The genuine confusion in Harry’s voice causes Louis’ chest to painfully twinge. “You’re a complete stranger in my eyes, William Shakespeare, but not in my heart. How is that possible?”

Louis wants to live out every romance plot he has ever written in his own life. He wants to be the protagonist of his own narrative, the hero who finds true love and gets his happy ending. Instead, Louis is stuck with only dreaming of such wild fantasies and writing them down. He can create entire romances in his dreams, yet he can never live one.

2. Threadbare 20k**

Harry Styles was eight years old when Louis Tomlinson kept him from falling into a machine in a Manchester textile mill. He was 18 years old when nothing, not even the threat of death, could keep Harry from falling in love with Louis.

3. Don’t Come Down 6k

Louis takes Harry home to meet the family.

4. I’ll Take Your Pain 2k*

Or, soulmates have the ability to feel each other's pain, and Harry finds his after getting his arse waxed.

5. We'll Never Be Lonely in the Dark 6k

Detective Louis Tomlinson keeps getting blocked when he tries to use his psychic gift to locate a missing child. One late night he manages to get through but instead of finding who he's looking for he lands in the bedroom of a mysterious man.

Harry Styles, nursing student, baker, and all around exhausted medium, thinks he's having the best sex dream he's ever had when his fantasy man shows up in his subconscious. But is that really what's going on?

6. Aquarius 6k

Louis realises he's slept with a man of every star sign except for Aquarius, and that just won't do.

7. Forget-Me-Not 26k**

“I- I can't move” the elder one finally croaked out, and with more distress Harry came to see that the vines had wrapped itself around the lad's ankles.

With a dumb nod Harry took a couple of steps forward. He could see Louis flinch with his sudden movement but he tried not to think about it. Instead, he lifted his hands, and tried his best to concentrate, hoping his power would listen to him just this once around the other man and untie him.

Ever so slowly, the vines started to detach themselves from Louis's calves, and soon enough, the man was free. With shaking legs, Louis stood up from the position he was in, and suddenly the air around them got thicker. “You're- you're a witch.” Louis hissed under the harsh wind, making Harry flinch at the accusation in his voice.

Or, where Harry had something he did not wish to have. Louis was just trying to figure him out.

8. Gem and the Hunters: The Treasure of Babylon 34k**

Louis Tomlinson wished, for one thing, his whole life: to find the ancient city of Babylon. After one failed attempt, he swore to never again attempt a search for the city. His friend, Niall Horan never pushed the issue, but when his family finds themselves in trouble, Niall’s only option is to convince Louis to try and find Babylon again.

Niall enlists the help of two famous treasure hunters: Harry and Gemma Styles and their friend Liam Payne. Harry and Gemma love ancient cultures as much as Louis and would give anything to find Babylon. Liam is just along for the ride, running from a shade in his past.

The five embark on the adventure of a lifetime… and find much more than any of them bargained for.

9. I Never Did Believe in the Ways of Magic (Through I’ve a Feeling It’s Time to Try) 54k*

Louis can’t shake the feeling that there’s something in the woods, pressing close and watching him with a heavy gaze. It makes him antsy, fills him with jitters. He wants to run, or scream, but he knows to do so would only put him in danger if there’s actually something out there after all. He’s sure he’s just imagining it, but his heart nevertheless pounds in his throat.

When Louis Tomlinson goes on a songwriting retreat to the Laurentian Mountains of Canada, this isn't how he expects his evening to go.

Or the au where Louis is a singer who has been cursed to never make music again and Harry is a reclusive witch of the Canadian mountains who's going to help him break the curse.

10. Cancel Your Reservations, No More Hesitations 10k

Louis still has his eyes on the bill when he barges into Harry’s room without knocking because he doesn’t want to get evicted and the smell hits him first.

It’s overly sweet and unnatural, and his stomach drops because it smells like an omega. Louis eyes widen and he looks up and - Harry’s on his hands and knees, a half spilled bottle of synthetic omega slick next to him and a huge, knotted dildo pressing into his hole. Harry’s face is flushed and he looks fucked-out and -

“I’m sorry!” Louis squeaks out and quickly backtracks, face red, because he wasn’t supposed to see that and Harry’s an alpha but he - Louis isn’t going to judge him.

Louis is an alpha and so is Harry, but Louis helps him through his rut anyway.

11. Foothold 18k

Louis has crossed the galaxy with a ship full of crystals; they’re the only thing he has to offer in exchange for safe harbor. He thought getting to his destination would be the hardest part, hoping that once he got his family to safety everything would fall back into place; Louis struggles to adapt while his sisters thrive. Louis suspects Emperor Styles may have something to do with it.

12. Don’t Want Shelter 76k*

Louis and Harry have known each other all their lives. Friends as children, they danced around each other as teenagers, and have spent the last twenty-five years either screaming at each other or not speaking at all. Except for that one time ten years ago…

When Hurricane Nicole threatens the coast, they end up stuck together in their families' old vacation home that they begrudgingly co-own.

During the storm, and in the months after, they’re both forced to reevaluate their history and what they mean to each other.

13. Wasted Like a Memory 4k

Six years before Hurricane Nicole forces Louis and Harry together, Fizzy gets married. Harry wrestles with reconciling the different versions of Louis he knows. (Part of Don’t Want Shelter)

14. Taste and Plead 3k

Or, the one where Harry wants something, and Louis' never been one to deny his boy anything.

15. Home For Christmas 22k**

The Shameless Hallmark Movie AU you probably didn't ask for.

Or, the one where Harry didn't think he wanted a family, but with a little Christmas magic (and maybe one Louis Tomlinson) he realizes that he is very, very wrong.

16. A Million Stars 2k

Louis watches Harry perform at the Tower Theater, and the events of the night unfold in an unexpected manner.

17. No One Like You 19k**

Where Liam and Niall are art historians discovering the truth about two nineteenth century painters on opposite sides of an artistic divide.

18. Howls Like A Beast (You Flower, You Feast) 16k*

France, 1754. Château de Versailles.

“You don’t love me,” Louis had said, utterly blasé as he callously fractured the heart of a Harry that was just barely eighteen.

“I do,” Harry had insisted pleadingly, green eyes already watering.

Louis had rolled his eyes, exasperated and flippant in the way only beautiful, young boys could be when faced with the affections of a baby prince. He had run his finger down Harry’s cheek then, had forced him to look into his eyes as he delivered the final blow.

“You’ll change your mind once you’ve seen more of the world,” Louis had teased, pressing a brutally delicate kiss onto Harry’s lovely, pure cheek. “Once you’ve been properly defiled.” He had whispered filthily, delighted by the gasp he heard, the frantic pink blush that had rested high on Harry’s cheeks, the power he had felt at knowing he could make the Crown Prince squirm.

19. You Flower, You Feast 18k**

He's King of the Underworld, but don't assume Louis has it all. He could stand for some excitement in his monotonous, eternal life and maybe, even.....a soulmate.

(Despite not having a soul.)

And along came "Harry".

20. The Dead Things We Carry 25k*

September ‘49

He hasn’t seen him since that day in France, that horrible muddy day where for one terrifyingly long second, Louis really thought he was going to die. He winces with the phantom pain, the hand not holding his cane going to his stomach automatically, remembering the franticness, the tenderness, of Harry’s hands while Louis was bleeding out. This is the man who saved Louis’ life.

For one second, Louis fears Harry won’t recognise him, but his eyes widen when he turns to his left and they meet Louis’. He takes a step forward, reaching for him with a shaky hand before stopping himself.

“Louis,” Harry says with a shudder and Louis doesn’t think his name has ever carried more weight. This is the only man Louis ever thought about kissing for real.

“Oh,” Mrs. Padley says, clearly taken aback. “You two know each other?”

There are some things people never fully come home from. Until, one day, if they’re lucky, home comes to them.

21. Do You Like My Sweater 13k

When Harry's alpha fraternity decides to host a Sadie Hawkins dance, outspoken omega Louis has a thing or two to say about it.

22. Yellow 84k**

The city of Gotham turns blood red with a new, mysterious criminal element, a beautiful woman named the Blind Cupid. She threatens to tear the fabric of the city apart, aided by her deadly protégé, the Cat. Can Batman stop them? Will he resist the bewitching allures of the Cat?

A Batman/ Catwoman AU

23. Things That Go Hump in the Night 6k

Louis goes camping. Something horrible happens. Louis is miserable.

It’s science.

24. This Thing Upon Me (Howls Like a Beast) 8k

Harry and Louis weren’t meant to be together. They’d met when they were put together through their university’s AO MatchUp, a program that set up alphas and omegas based on the schedules of their ruts and heats so they had someone to help them through it. It was pure luck that they were put together.

25. Hands Clasped Tight 44k**

Or the one where Harry and Louis are high school teachers and their students have been playing matchmaker for over a year. Little do they know, Harry and Louis are already married.

26. And the Truth Shall Set You Free (...Maybe) 17k

Betism: A religion based on the belief that the beta gender has been chosen by God to protect and defend the purity and dignity of the human race by resisting and condemning the lustful ways and flawed biology of the alpha and omega

Harry is a Betist and Louis is an alpha who runs with a bad crowd. This is what happens when two worlds collide.

27. (We Will Be) As If Chosen 35k**

There's not a royal in the world who doesn't carry some sort of secret, and Prince Louis has more than his fair share. To protect himself and his family, Louis withdrew from the public eye and tried to live a quiet life, biding his time until his sister Lottie could take the throne in his stead. Unfortunately for him, the national media and the worst person Louis has ever met team up to bring him kicking and screaming back into the spotlight.

Under the watchful eyes of millions, Louis has to figure out how to keep his carefully constructed house of cards from falling, and the first step to accomplishing that is to keep from falling in love with the irritatingly charming Prince Harry, who just won't stop showing up and trying to whisk Louis out of the constraints of his boring life.

Or: the course of true love never did run smooth, because sometimes people are stubborn and sometimes people are scared and sometimes, just sometimes, love can cause just as many problems as it solves.

28. It’ll Be 13k

Louis has always wanted children and he decides he's done waiting for love to come first. However, after adopting a baby girl just days after she's born, he quickly realizes how hard parenting is. Louis hires Harry to be his Nanny, and it all works out great. Until Louis falls in love with him.

#monthly rec #mine #fic rec #SOOOOOO MANY GOODIES #read these ASAP #i would tag all the fics like i usually do #but #there are so many so i'll tag some prominent ones #don't want shelter #yellow #threadbare #home for christmas #the dead things we carry #gem and the hunters #forget me nots #uh #i have a bad memory and I'm too lazy to scroll up #hands clasped tight #larry fic #larry fic rec #larry stylinson #harry styles #louis tomlinson #niall horan #zayn malik #liam payne

[dragon-fics]

S&H: Ch. 18 Holiday Season

Chapter summary: It’s winter time, so you know what that means....

Notes, Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6, Ch. 7, Ch. 8, Ch. 9, Ch. 10, Ch. 11, Ch. 12, Ch. 13, Ch. 14, Ch. 15, Ch. 16, Ch. 17, Ch. 18, Ch. 19, Ch. 20, Ch. 21, Ch. 22, Ch. 23, Ch. 24, Ch. 25, Ch. 26, Ch. 27

“Well, the holiday comes from over a thousand years ago when dragons helped most of Roania survive a great famine. Hence the reason it’s called the Feast of Generosity,” Zion explained. He had got Molten to come back over to Roania, just two weeks before his Christmas exams started, to have him join in on the end-of-November Roanian celebration.

“And even after the war, you still celebrate it?” Molten asked as he walked down the stairs to the castle’s dining room. He had dressed up in a black suit and white shirt, though he felt bad for wearing jeans to the feast, seeing as it was so important to his boyfriend and his people.

“Yes,” Zion replied bluntly, unsure of why Molten asked such a question. “Just because we blamed Wyrmia for starting the war—whether or not it was an accident—doesn’t mean we forget about how Wyrmia aided us in the past.”

Molten lifted his chin understandingly. “Riiiight,” he said, accepting that this holiday meant a lot to the people of Roania.

He tugged on the jacket of his suit. “Do I look acceptable?” He asked Zion. Zion took a quick scan of his outfit—he wore a red tailcoat jacket, white shirt, neckerchief and suit trousers. Very formal.

“Eh... Yeah, pretty much.” He stopped by the doors to the dining room. “Ready to join us in this Roanian feast?” He asked, reaching for the handle on the door.

Molten fixed his hair in the reflection of the chequered tiles beneath him.

“You look fine,” Zion insisted. He fixed his jacket a bit and pecked him on the lips. “I promise.”

Molten paused and looked down at Zion. “All right,” he drew in a breath, “I’m ready.”

*-*-*-*

“Just remember, you wanted to see how Wyrmia celebrated Christmas,” Molten said, pulling up outside his parents’ home.

“I still don’t see why I have to wear this though,” Zion complained, pulling down his navy Christmas jumper to inspect it, with its centrepiece white snowman with a red hat and buttons sewn on as, and falling snow in the background.

“It’s part of our tradition,” Molten said. “And it’s for a bit of fun.”

“You say that because you have a reindeer on yours with a bright red pompom. It’s cute... That and you’re used to it,” Zion said, mimicking a posture of a child told that had to do something they didn’t want to.

Molten shook his head. “And I thought I was a big child,” he muttered. “At least help me carry in the presents.”

Zion nodded.

*-*-*-*

“You’re such a sore loser,” Molten said as Zion pouted, having lost another game of table hockey to Molten.

Zion stood on the other side, his arms folded and head high. “Am not.”

Blaze laughed, the sound echoed through warm the basement. Molten placed his puck on the table and walked over to the pool table, taking a sip from his bottle of beer.

“Yeah, yeah.” Molten sat down on one beanbag in front of the old TV, hooked up a Wii console and his Xbox console which he’d brought over. Blaze and CJ had finished a round of Mario Kart.

“Ready to face the champ of this game, CJ?” Called Firestrike, already taking Molten’s spot at the table.

CJ sighed dramatically. “I suppose.”

“Good luck,” Blaze said, handing Molten the other controller.

Zion moved in beside them.

“You’re on,” Molten said, starting up his character.

Gaming with Zion was an interesting experience. He was good but violent; even in a game like Mario Kart. Both of them were determined to win the races they chose. Eventually Molten had to let him win, so they could get down to dinner.

“Ha!” Zion shouted, jumping to his feet. Molten stifled a laugh.

“All right, I admit it, you’re good.”

“You know it, Flarescales.” Molten chuckled and got to his feet, just as Jasmine called them for dinner.

*-*-*-*

“And here he is when he joined secondary school,” Jasmine said, showing the picture of Molten’s first year class to Zion. He was about twelve, maybe thirteen. His fringe wasn’t as long and his build wasn’t as strong. Actually, he was nowhere near as fit as he was now. He was a plump boy, chubby all over. Zion wondered why he had never seen pictures of Molten when he was young. This was the first time he had seen Molten when he was young. Was he embarrassed about it?

It had been a few hours since the Christmas dinner. They had filled the room with music, laughter and the festive spirit all afternoon. The sun was fading now and the Christmas tree shone brightly, lots of gifts still waiting to be unwrapped.

Molten was at the sink, elbow high in suds as he washed the pots and dishes that had been used in the making of the festive meal. Blaze stood beside him, drying said dishes when Molten had finished with them.

“I think Mam is showing him the photo album,” he said, rubbing down the glass tray they had cooked the roast potatoes in.

“Which one?” Asked Molten, lifting out a small pot, not taking his eyes off his work.

“Yours.”

Molten paused for a moment. “Right,” he said, trying to lighten his mood with some humour. “Well, there’s nothing I can hide now, right?” He said, trying to laugh.

Blaze saw his mood drop. Usually, he would have ignored it and moved on with his chore, but he didn’t. After all, he was trying to reinvent himself. With both his siblings now dating their chosen ones, he needed to lure his own. He looked to his damp tea towel, so what better way to lighter his brother’s mood that with a bit of playtime.

He whipped Molten with the tea towel, dampening his light blue shirt. Molten paused, looking at his brother slowly, before hitting him with a mass of suds.

“You’re in for it now, you little prick,” he threatened under his breath. Blaze lifted his arms to shield his eyes from the suds. He hit Molten again with the damp cloth. Molten grabbed another tea towel from the counter and wet it in the water. He whipped Blaze across the chest with it.

“Hey! Mine’s not that wet!” He protested. He dipped his towel into the sink and whipped Molten back. they exchanged wet blows for a few minutes.

“Boys. Boys!” Their dam called. “I’d like to those dishes done soon.” She warned.

Molten sighed, a smile firm on his face, and placed his towel back on the counter. He and Blaze continued their chore. It was another while before they finished, but when they did, they treated themselves to another beer.

And then it was time for presents.

It was a quick ceremony of thank you’s and opening gifts. Within minutes, they covered the carpeted floor of the living room with torn Christmas wrapping paper. Zion sat on the armrest of the couch, leaning against Molten as he unwrapped what his family had given him; thinking about taking a few back home—if he could get his hands on them.

Soon after, most of the family disappeared to their rooms to experiment with the new gadgets. They left Molten and Zion in the living room. He cleaned up the beer bottle and cups strewn around the room. As he was putting some cups in the dishwasher, his favourite Christmas song came on the stereo, Christmas Stuff. he swung his shoulders to the beat and closed up the dishwasher.

Zion opened his mouth to tell him there was more to go into the machine, but Molten took the mugs from him and took his hands in his.

“What are you—?” He was cut off by Molten singing.

"I wanna do Christmas stuff Just like we used to do when we were all little kids and Santa brought toys for me and you."

He spun Zion around and he danced with him at a fast pace. Zion recognised it as a jive, from his ballroom lessons as a teenager.

"I wanna build a snowman Find a tree and hang some lights Wanna get some mistletoe Make it Christmas eve every night Wanna present that no three or four Hang some holly on your door And throw little snow on the ground Just to make it right."

Zion smiled as Molten sang along with their dance. They never lost their rhythm, they just kept going and Molten’s voice was as smooth as ever.

"I wanna do Christmas stuff with you Maybe if we put cookies and milk You’ll never know We just might hear someone say ‘Ho Ho Ho’!"

Molten spun him around again and started the last chorus.

"I wanna do Christmas stuff Just like we used to do When we were all little kids and Santa Brought toys for me and you I wanna believe that just believing is Enough to make every dream come true I wanna do Christmas stuff with you Yeah, I wanna do Christmas stuff with you Yeah, I wanna do Christmas stuff With you."

Molten pulled Zion in close, smiling.

“I love you, Molten,” Zion said, leaning up towards him.

Molten smiled. “I love you, too, Zion.” He pecked him on the lips, getting a kiss in return. “Merry Christmas.”

#Scales and Hooves

[fckeddiemunson]

The Guitarist - Chapter One

ALRIGHT SO I GOT BORED AND WANTED TO DO THIS I WILL UPLOAD AGAIN SOON AND YES IT WILL BE SMUTTY

Harry wasn’t sure how he ended up in a crowded venue, surrounded by beefy guys with beer in sleeveless leather jackets. But there he was regardless. He wanted to be alone, but not be alone. Going anywhere public would have been futile and resulted in hastily taken pictures and the definite hassle of paparazzi. It took him a while to think of a place, but he was driving down a quiet street of London when he saw an advertisement for a small metal band, playing a show of about 500. The tickets were dirt cheap and the risk of someone recognising him there was so slim, Harry was convinced he could use a fake name with no second glances. Harry hadn’t the faintest idea what kind of show he was in for, but he was excited to witness something new. Something where cameras weren’t watching and he could just watch, without being watched. He was to the left of the stage, people packed in closer but he stood his ground, at a good distance from the stage.

The lights dimmed completely and a dark red light illuminated the stage, hauling in whistles and screams from the audience. Harry chuckled and whistled with them, relishing in the feeling of being on the other side. Harry blended in and didn’t feel too out of place with his black t-shirt and tattooed arms, but he knew he was different. Harry dressed like a rock star but had the personality of a bumble bee dancing around a stage in a flower crown. He was a delicate creature who liked the simplicities of life and liked his privacy. He had learned over the years who he was and that person should not have been at a metal concert. The band was called Living With Insanity and he felt somehow captivated to their contrasting elements and desire for something new.

The band came on one by one, in traditional fashion and his eyes landed on the lead guitarist. The guitarist was a girl around 20, wild curly dark brown hair and cascading tattoos down her slim body. He felt entranced by her playing, the way her fingers plucked the riffs and murdered the solos. She stood on his side of the stage and mainly looked out at the crowd, smiling. Harry could just see her hazel eyes wondering the crowd as she danced across the strings on her black electric guitar. A few men in the crowd heckled at her during intervals but she took it in her stride and answered their crude and ridiculous pleas. He was captivated by her, nobody else mattered in the band, the crowd’s screams dulled in his ears as he listened only to the playing of her guitar. His body moved to the playing of her guitar, much like rest of the crowd. Her eyes wondered out to the crowd, searching for faces but Harry knew this attempt was pointless in such a dark venue. The show came to a close and all Harry wanted to do was find that girl and talk to her. Her aura on stage was enthralling and he felt possessed by it. He wandered lethargically out of the venue and to the back of the building where he saw them packing up. Chords lay tangled everywhere and she was crouched down wrapping them around her arm, cigarette between her lips and hair wild.

“Hey.” Harry said softly as he walked up in front of her, her eyes darted up and eyebrows quirked at him.

“Hi.” She replied in a huffed tone and continued wrapping up the chords.

“I’m Harry” he said with an assured tone, attempting to strike up a conversation, maybe even help her.

“I am aware. I’m Piper” Harry was slightly taken aback but didn’t let it faze him.

“Can I help you with anything?” Harry said, grinning and looking down at the chords she had to wrap up.

“Sure, just don’t mess up the chords.” She handed him a loose chord, making brief eye contact with him. Piper wasn’t quite sure why Harry was at their show, in fact she was quite confused.

“What are you doing here, pretty boy?” Her tone was somewhat accusing but she was mostly outrageously curious.

“I came to enjoy the show.” He said sincerely, Piper’s expression was somewhat hard and unreadable.

“Yeah okay.” Piper went back to wrapping the chords and took a ling drag of her cigarette causing Harry to cough innocently. Piper rolled her eyes, her expression covered by her cascading looks.

“Look, I just wanted to tell you the show was really good by the way, and you are an amazing player.” Harry smiled at the girl, her piercing mixed hazel eyes looked at him, attempting to decipher his meaning.

“Look, flattery will get you nowhere, pretty boy.” Piper retorted, accusation lacing her soothing voice.

“I wasn’t- ” Harry was cut off by Piper standing up and walking away, he quickly got up to follow her, desperate for her attention. Harry almost slapped himself for being so whiney. Piper turned around and took a step toward Harry to which he took one back. Piper took another and so did Harry, he felt his back touch a wall and Piper stood awfully close to him.

“Pretty boy, what do you want?” Piper spoke softly, holding a firm and slightly frustrated tone.

“A drink, with you.” Harry’s breathing had quickened and he could feel the hair on his neck rising in nervousness.

“I don’t do the whole mega star thing.” She gestured to his body and he shook his head.

“I’m not like the media portrays me.”

“And what would that be?” Piper challenged

“A stuck-up asshole with too much money and who doesn’t care.” Harry breathed out quickly, burning under Piper’s stare. Piper weighed up her options, she could either go home to her messy liquor filled apartment and drink herself to sleep or she could go out with popstar Harry and go to a poncy bar with a dress code.

“I pick the bar.” Piper stepped away from Harry and he exhaled sharply, nodding while looking her in the eye. Piper asked one of the roadies if he could pack up the chords and she told Harry to wait while she collected her belongings. He waited anxiously, somewhat intimidated by her. They started walking down the alley way, Piper led the way, her strides fast and snappy, Harry kept up with his long legs. He couldn’t help but trail his eyes down her body when she got slightly ahead, her jeans clung tightly to her figure and her hair flowed wildly behind her, mimicking her fierce personality. Harry didn’t want to seem like the other guys she clearly disliked so he kept his eyes down on the road as they walked. Harry didn’t even expect to acquire her number at the end of the night but her endearing personality attracted him, in an unexpected manner. He usually went for a quiet girl who didn’t cause the media any scandals, although, he felt Piper admired privacy and didn’t want hers stripped away from her.

“So, how long have you been playing guitar?” Harry smiled as they walked down a quiet street with a few lone people lurking around.

“Since I was eight. How long have you been singing?” Piper looked at Harry, making an attempt to be nicer than she had.

“Ever since I could talk really, but I didn’t think I had any real potential.” Piper couldn’t help but roll her eyes, but hid them from Harry who was watching her intently.

“Yeah, well singing seemed to turn out pretty well for you.” Piper attempted a smile that ended up like a pained Cheshire cat. Harry however smiled his toothy grin back and Piper stopped at a door. The door led to a downtown bar, the slightly dodgy and dirty part of town. Even as a teenager, Harry didn’t venture down here, unlike Piper, his life was more sheltered than hers. Harry had lived a relatively normal and cosy life as a child compared to the backlashing harsh life of Piper.

The lights inside the bar were dim and a few strippers adorned poles in the back corner of the room. Middle aged men threw money at them, their white singlets showing their protruding beer bellies. Shift workers loved this place. They loved the dark decor, the cheap strippers and the near twenty-four-hour service for any and all needs. Harry felt a bit uncomfortable but slung his body down on a faux leather lounge that was chipping and peeling. Piper ordered shots for the two of them, clearly knowing her way around the claustrophobic, smoke ridden bar. She laid down on the lounge opposite him and he coughed slightly, engaging her attention.

“So, tell me about your life?” Piper was shocked by his constant optimistic glow but shrugged, sitting up to look him in the eye.

“I bust my ass in a band that is seemingly going nowhere, but I love making music so I stay. I work occasionally at this bar when our gig money doesn’t cut the rent and electricity and water bills. I could’ve gone to university; my marks were good enough but I chose the band life and started touring the UK with a bunch of twenty-five-year old guys who learnt pretty quickly that I was an equal member of this band and we got along ever since.” Harry wasn’t expecting such a length response, but he was glad they were managing to get a conversation rolling. Piper didn’t ask about his life and she knew it would completely shadow her small little life.

“What was your first job?” Harry questioned as their shots came and they downed them simultaneously.

“I used to work at a coffee shop that was on the river. It was lovely there, but they changed owners and it wasn’t the greatest after that. What about you?” Piper seemed to look fondly back on this memory, a smile curled on her lips and Harry wanted to see more of it.

“I used to work in a bakery.” They made eye contact and Piper giggled at Harry’s answer.

“What?” he giggled back at her, confused at her sudden outburst, but intrigued.

“I’ve lived a safe life and I am a huge rock star and I used to work in a bakery.” Piper taunted him, Harry’s grin widened as he shook his head at her impression.

They ordered another round of shots, this time Harry watched her drink hers before he downed his. He watched the scrunch of her nose as she swallowed and the crinkle of her eyes as the spirit hit her throat. His eyes stared into hers as she bit her lip, hollering for more shots. Shot after shot they took and soon they were huddled together on the same lounge, Harry ran his hand through her dark curly mess. Harry’s phone began to buzz relentlessly and Piper had ended up turning it off and shoving it in her pocket, claiming he wasn’t allowed to have it. Harry was surprised by Piper’s demeaner in her drunken state. She stopped pretending to be an intimidating guitarist and let herself laugh and smile. She snuggled into his chest as they sat there, the music subtle in the bar, a few truck drivers had stopped and then left again. They had been there the longest, cheesy laughing at every shot they took and slamming the glasses down on the scratched dark wooden table.

“I think we better go.” Piper stated, in between every word a hiccup.

“I’ll call my driver.” Harry said loudly and started patting Piper down in an attempt to locate his phone. He found it and smirked at Piper before taking it off her. Piper dazily sat up from the lounge and stood up, stretching widely as Harry made the call.

“Okay, let’s go!” Piper was in an excited state and dragged Harry up from the lounge, he grabbed his coat and stumbled with her out the front door. They stood in the freezing air, dancing from foot to foot, trying to keep themselves warm. Harry felt light headed and looked towards Piper, her face lit up as she made eye contact with a freezing Harry. Harry saw a car turn a corner, recognising it immediately he walked closer to the road. It was being followed by several vans, he knew they contained paps. He looked to his driver and his driver was shaking his head, Harry knew he had been stalked on the way over. Piper seemed gleefully unaware of them and Harry wanted to keep it that way, knowing that even in her happy drunken state, she would lash out, claiming he was something he wasn’t. He wrapped an arm around her waist and hustled her into the car as soon as it pulled up. He saw the distant flash of a camera but didn’t turn his head in acknowledgment and instead buckled himself into the dark car.

“Piper, where do you live?” he slurred lightly but smiled earnestly at her. She seemed somewhat more aware and gave the driver explicit directions, her hands gesturing as she spoke. Harry tried to take a mental note of her place when they arrived, it was in a quiet street. The apartment building towering menacingly over the drunken boy. He stepped out of the car with her, walking her to the entrance of the building. Piper regained a sober moment and pushed him unexpectedly against the red brick wall.

“Like I said pretty boy, flattery will get you nowhere.” She breathed to him, her eyes flutter as she leant in and kissed the corner of his mouth teasingly. He tried to kiss back but she stopped and smirked at him, fumbled with her keys and unlocked the apartment entrance.

“See you later, pretty boy.” Her voice, like velvet rang in his ears as he walked back to his car, already in need to see her again.

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