#or a good stiff drink

[autumnsup]

The Velvet Goldmine Soundtrack Imagined As a Flight or Tasting Menu

Arranged According to Flavor and Style

To preface my latest nonsense: I will always appreciate the OST. I even went and bought the vinyl edition (see previous reblog), which makes skipping the less beloved tracks more difficult. Nevertheless, over the years I have done some curating based on the tracks I love most, including adding in a few bonus tracks that didn’t make it onto the OST album.

Back in the early 2000s, it was quite the undertaking to create what I considered to be the “complete” soundtrack to Velvet Goldmine. To collect more tracks, I combed through used CD stores, ripped from CDs found at libraries, and “borrowed” from my dad’s music downloading service pre-iTunes, to make a mix of my own.

I won’t be including that exact mix here, nor will I be mentioning every single song on the OST, but I’ve compiled a few Top 5 lists with flavorful ramblings about each track and why I love it. I’m also realizing as I write that much of what I appreciate about each song is wrapped up with the scene it underscores in the film, making it hard for me to take a step back and judge them on their musical merits alone. Just be warned that some may be more incoherent than others. 🫠

Top 5 Faves

Hot One ✨ Shudder to Think

Flavor profile: smoky-sweet with a dollop of strange

Honestly, this song makes me so happy and nostalgic every time I hear it. If I were to pick one song to play on repeat, this would probably be the one I’d choose. There’s something infectious about the leisurely pace of the piano and bass together, and the nonsensical, somewhat dark lyrics overlaying them, lightly tinged with the rasp of the singer's voice. I could almost imagine Oscar Wilde composing the words, without the references to outer space (unless he was actually – gasp – FROM outer space?).

Bitter-Sweet ✨ Roxy Music

as performed by Thom Yorke and The Venus in Furs

Flavor profile: a swirl of bitters and spice with an undercurrent of salt tears

I love this song because it encompasses so many different sounds and moods, and Thom Yorke’s vocal range is incredible. Plus the lyrics are extremely evocative and spot-on for the scene they cover. It’s not entirely clear to me if we actually hear the Flaming Creatures perform parts of it as well, or if they are just lip-synching for the sake of flow between scenes, but in any case, it was very well chosen.

Satellite of Love ✨ Lou Reed (with David Bowie)

Flavor profile: fluffy-sweet layers with a little crunch on top

Another happy-making song for me, although I can eventually get tired of listening to it (doesn’t help that I have it on Lou Reed’s Transformer too). I love that Bowie collaborated on the background vocals and enjoy singing along while I imagine Curt and Brian in the honeymoon phase of their relationship.

Gimme Danger ✨Iggy Pop

as sung by Ewan McGregor

Flavor profile: this may mangle your jaw and sear off your tastebuds but you will still crave it 😵

Seriously, why didn’t they include this on the OST album??? it is my opinion that if they had to pick one Iggy Pop song, they should’ve gone with Gimme Danger instead of T.V. Eye. The Iggy Pop original is good too but it doesn’t have quite the same feeling of angst and emotional oomph that Ewan’s does. I guess it doesn’t have the same level of shock value as T.V. Eye, but melodically and thematically I think it’s a much better song.  It is a crying shame that this performance was overlooked and I still hold hope in my heart that the Ewan recording is in storage somewhere, eventually to be released into the world. (Todd Haynes, take note).

Ballad of Maxwell Demon ✨ Shudder to Think 

as sung by Jonathan Rhys Meyers / Craig Wedren

Flavor profile: a tall glass of rainbow dusted in glitter and charcoal

I have mixed feelings about this track because I can’t decide which version I like better. In general, I’m not a huge fan of JRM’s voice, but for this particular song, it fits the off-kilter he-might-kill-you-in-an-instant tone of the music video so well, it might actually be the better version. I don’t know… feel free to fight me on this, I might just change my mind. Again. But as for the song itself, the lyrics are so nonsensical they're borderline iconic. I mean, "the slap on my ass by a lipstick-kissed elbow glove"?

Top 5 for Sheer Vibes

Velvet Spacetime ✨ Carter Burwell (both versions)

Flavor profile: a smorgasbord of far-out sounds

Speaking of vacillating, I am pretty certain that there are two versions of this track, one of which we hear only briefly during the film. I like the OST version just fine because of how melodic and relaxing it is, but I wish they’d included the film version, which sounds more ominous and gritty. I think it appears during one of the “Arthur hot on the trail” scenes, when he’s walking to the subway or something? Anyway, FANTASTIC vibes from a film composer I’ve learned to love over the years.

2HB ✨ Roxy Music

as performed by Thom Yorke and The Venus in Furs

Flavor profile: a fizzy Bellini-style cocktail made with passionfruit and the finest champagne

This is such an interesting song from start to finish, and is used to beautiful effect in the film. My favorite version of course is the one with Jack Fairy at the end, during the Death of Glitter concert. “Your cigarette traces a ladder” is probably one of my favorite lyrics from the entire film – SO poetic.

20th Century Boy ✨ T.Rex 

as performed by Placebo

Flavor profile: the chunkiest hunk of brittle you’ve ever sunk your teeth into

This song is just so perfect in every way, both in the film and on the OST. I find the melody a bit repetitive and the lyrics boring, which is why I didn’t include in my top faves list, but Placebo’s delivery of it is smashing, right down to the chunky guitar riffs at the very end. Leaves me with chills every time.

The Whole Shebang ✨ Grant Lee Buffalo

Flavor profile: a little bland until the bubbles start popping

A fluffy little song, but I love singing along with the chorus, and it’s a great fit for where it appears in the film. (Note to Todd Haynes and co: can we see the whole music video please? I love JRM’s Elvis-like sneer and head wobbles so much).

Needle in the Camel’s Eye ✨ Brian Eno

Flavor profile: sharp, sweet, sassy lemon

Also an interesting song to me, and one that fits the mood of the opening credits scene like a glove. With repeat listenings I’ve come to believe that even though it comes in hard with those brassy guitar chords, it’s actually not a very heavy song. The sheer joy and simplicity of it really shines through and captures the euphoric feeling of running through the streets with your best mates so well. I’m not even bothered by how repetitive the melody is, because each repetition brings something new with it.

NB: I’d never heard of Eno before and was intrigued to discover that snippets from a couple of his other songs were included in the film (Dead Finks and Fat Lady). They are more curiosities to me than anything I truly love, but I sometimes enjoy listening to them all the way through just for the hell of it.

Top 5 for that Retro Flavor

Do You Want to Touch Me (Oh Yeah!) ✨ Gary Glitter Joan Jett

Flavor profile: velvety-smooth with a little grit and spice sprinkled in

I do like the original version of this track but have a hard time stomaching the thought of supporting the original singer in any way. Thank goodness for Joan Jett’s excellent cover version!

Virginia Plain ✨ Roxy Music

Flavor profile: also smooth as velvet but with no grit to speak of, just bright fruity flavor

This song is pure fun from start to finish and matches the tone of the scene perfectly. I especially love how it ends right at the moment when Shannon is being introduced to the entourage.

Cosmic Dancer ✨  T.Rex

Flavor profile: warm and milky goodness

A delicately winding journey of a song. I love the soft intimacy of Mandy doing Brian’s makeup during it – wish we had one of those scenes for her and Jack or Curt too.

Ladytron ✨ Roxy Music

performed by Thom Yorke and The Venus in Furs

Flavor profile: can I say chocolate? Stoneground, with both sugar and spice of course.

This song grew on me, thanks in part to the distant bewitching intro before the quavering vocals set in. The guitar solos provide fire for the sex scene between Brian and Mandy, and I like how it fades out at the end (unlike the actual ending of their relationship).

Tumbling Down ✨ Steve Harley

as performed by Jonathan Rhys Meyers and The Venus in Furs

Flavor profile: whipped syllabub with bombastic notes of cherry and lime

This scene with JRM alone and gussied up as Maxwell Demon is possibly the most dramatic finale for a character I’ve ever seen in film or theatre, and I’ve seen a fair amount of both. His rendition of the song doesn’t quite seize me by the heart like other versions I’ve heard (especially the live Steve Harley version with guitar, harmonica and little else), but the musical backing more than makes up for it, along with the tawdry glamor and sparkle of costume and set. The song feels both retro and timeless somehow, despite (or because of?) the nonsensical lyrics, and I find myself singing them every now and then without quite knowing why. RIP Maxwell Demon.

Honorable Mentions

Sebastian ✨ Steve Harley

as sung by Jonathan Rhys Meyers

Flavor profile: a vanilla bean dipped in confectioner's sugar

This song gives me mixed feelings. On the one hand, it has the somber and dirge-like melody that doesn't always sit well with me, but on the other hand, something about JRM’s delivery of it, of Brian’s cool gaze over an audience that doesn’t quite despise him but definitely doesn’t appreciate his unique brand of showmanship, lingers with me. “Your lips ruby blue” – now there’s a line that’s hard to forget.

Diamond Meadows ✨ T.Rex

Flavor profile: huckleberry crumble with blobs of cream

It took me a little while to come around to this song, but I now think it underscores the Brian and Curt doll scene quite well. Childlike, bordering on naughty, and repeating in endearing loops until it abruptly cuts itself short. (That might describe much of Marc Bolan’s opus, come to think of it).

Symphony No. 6 in A Minor ✨ Gustav Mahler

Flavor profile: less of a flavor and more like a whiff of buttery, mouthwatering mystery

I didn’t recognize this as a Mahler piece for a while, but the clip played during Jack’s slow descent down the stairs at the Sombrero, and the following scene of him under intense scrutiny in the restaurant, fits SO well. Carter Burwell or whoever managed to interweave Mahler with 60s soul, glam rock stylings, and the Spacetime theme in the span of just a few minutes was at the top of their game. 💋

@25yearsofvelvetgoldmine

#ok now I'm craving dessert #or a good stiff drink #if a mix were a menu... #friyay #25yearsofvelvetgoldmine #velvet goldmine

[isfjmel-phleg]

All right, time to get to work on The Paper Of Doom, for real this time. If you catch me on here distracting myself with other analysis or generally flailing, you have my permission to manifest in my living room and yell at me for my lack of self-discipline.

And to keep myself accountable, I will make a report on the results later and if I don't get a good grade in this, I will be in trouble.

#random personal stuff #but first a good stiff drink (water)

[boxwinebaddie]

would your stans be the type to solve disagreements with a just dance battle since theyre pacifists

yes...i support this.

***my stans both claim they wont stop putting up peace signs in pictures until theres world peace lmaooo

i am not sure, however...that they would win many.

cue me combining the complicated answer to your simple question with some ncu dance headcannons, but i do hope they thrill you!

but alright, so i said that because...

...i am not convinced whatsoever that pep!stan has rhythm.

which musically, of course, he is very gifted. he can sing and play guitar really well, could probably pick up other instruments if he tried.

one of my favorite headstannons actually ( and i think its present across both stans ) is that he has perfect pitch...and when kyle and him are arguing and kyle is lecturing him stan gets suuuuper annoying and starts being like "a, b, e flat, wow f sharp" KYLE GETS SOOOOO MAD ITS SO DKHSDLHDS hes so annoying help

however, being musically gifted does not mean...you can dance.

and in the baggy ass, gigantic ass skater boy jeans, the gigantic slouchy metal hoodies, the big beanie, his greasy ass blonde bangs all up in his ( cute little ) face and his vans untied...its a no from me.

like dead sober he's just hella stiff, has no interest in dancing, every single prom or dance he's been to with wendy was actually hell omg

BUUUUUUUT....drunk stan ;)

he will get SOOO WEIRD!!! hes down like oh my god, like dead sober stan is like ready to die if there is dancing, drunk stan is pulling you on the dance floor, sloppy as hell, spinnin you around, kissin ur hand!

like is it good dancing? no absolutely not? is it lit? absolutely.

okay like specifically, him and kenny? TOGETHER? it goes so hard like stan learned dance moves for one reason and one reason only and was to turn up to parties and absolutely fuck! it! up!

WAIT OK THE FOOTBALL ONE WHEN STAN SHOWS UP TO THE FUNCTION LATE AS HELL STILL IN HIS FOOTBALL JERSEY??? I JUST KNOW KYLE IS SWEATING WHEN HE SMIRKS AT HIM

also i just remembered that i canonically after winning shot roulette, had extremely drunk stan get up on the kitchen counter and drop it low to im sexy and i know it and collect dollar bills like a stripper and..

u know what!!!! it was definitely a low budget strip tease at best, very messy, the man has litrally no ass, but he is FINE so u know what, he looked good, he put on a s-h-o-w and no one was complaining!!!! especially not kyle when stans shirt flew off and hit him in the face.

whEW!

....a lot of dreams abt that one, huh kyle?

( i do think that all night kyle is trying to be Responsible and is like

[ throwback pep chapter 2 to kyles stmwtp contact photo ]

i should take stan home he should not be drunk and doing hand(stan)ds breaking the keg stand record....but then stans shirt falls down, he gets football boy ab-ed and winked at so hes like...nevermind thats so crazy...he can have five more minutes this is my favorite show <3 salhds )

hooooowever! moving right along:

conversely, i do think ravenstan...can definitely Dance.

but. BUT!!!!!!!

i will say...he had to be TAUGHT!!!!!! PAINSTAKINGLY!!!!! HOW TO DANCE!!!!!! it was a Miserable process. it was so painful, oh my god. hes so awkward, god bless him. he was SOOO BAD. he was like guys i cannot do this???? i give up!!!!!! and kenny and the cd boys were like u can do this rae!!! this is ur Dream and he was like...sigh...SIGH.

and did...eventually get...honestly? kind of good? hello? excuse me???

RAVENSTAN???? HELLLLOOOOOO

okay also i do think he had a small boost like i do think that rm!sharon definitely had rhythm af and used to spin shelley and stan around the kitchen making dinner with the mexican radio station blaring. <333

( so hes got a lil bit of That going on...lets go half mexican ravenstan )

but also...if u want to be Absolutely Miserable...pre!raven!stan who was 11 was learning how to formally dance around that time because of the sadie hawkins dance, but more specifically...because of shelley's birthday...specifically...

her quinceanara.

which she never got to have...

...because she died three days before her birthday. :)

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

fun!

stan still knows those moves by the way! he is haunted! Hi, PTSD!

aka Phantom There's Shelley Disorder!

but yes, raven learned how to dance because he had to learn how to dance, but that does not mean he likes doing it or that he is sober.

he also gets to coast mostly on sex appeal and being hot and looking into ur eyes, so like if he fucks up its kinda just like damn thats crazy i didnt see anything but ur very pretty eyes raven whatever u want, hansome!!!!! its a lot of powersliding and hip stuff...whew! lis...ten.

Aaaaaaaanyways!

tldr; just dance in front of every1? i think he would eat tbh its his job

BUT PRIVATELY? uhhhh...i think he would be nervous as fuck and on top of that i think jersey kyle would look at him once and he would fall in his ass and fall into something and break his arm its that unserious

so basically neither of my stans can dance, but both of them can dance way better drunk bc they are relaxed and raven was just forced at gunpoint to learn how to Move so he can...

and 2 well tbh. ;)

sahdkshdls

ALRIGHT I ADDED MY KYLE HEADCANNONS JUST FOR FUNSIES!

ok i went back and forth on this for a while.

i was like do i give kyle no rhytmn? can he dance?

my answer is that when both my kyles are dead sober theyre like so far infused into the wall that they are literally the structural integrity of the house party, like so far from the dance floor, judging literally everyone, sneering at everyone, disapproving glares...

and naturally this makes u thirsty because its hard work, u know, being a full time fucking HATER

gotta drink the haterade which, ofc, is a hard cider/seltzer for pep!kyle and is probably cheap grocery store wine for jersey

BUT WHEN HE HAS LIKE TWO OR THREE OF THOSE

ohhhhhh my god

drunk!kyle ;)))))))))))))))

DRUNK KYLE IS SO FUN!!!! HES FOR THE STREETS!!!!!!!

they gave him way too much ass and for no goddamn reason like hello???? HELLO???? like i think he does his little white mom dance moves his little taylor swift awkward bird boy sways HES VIBING!!! tbh i think hes kind of good??? like??? okay kyle???? lets go bitch!!!

ALSO IF MEGAN THEE MOTHERFUCKING STALLION COMES ON HE IS RAPPING AND THROWING SERIOUS ASSSSSSSSSSSSSS

like do not think i forgot that marjorine taught kyle how to twerk and that jerseys entire running playlist is just like Fuck Being Good Im A Bad Bitch!!!! like just iconic loud female rap for like 30 minutes skhdksskdhks IT GETS DIRTY FREAKY NAAAASTY IN THERE!!!

like stan and kyle in any ncuniverse dancing at the function is INSAAAAAAAAANE like it is an event!!! stan is like okayokayokaaay!

go white boy gooooooooo!!!!

hes really just in shock and awe, every time kyle gets loose enough to hit the dance floor its the best night of his lifeeeee i mean that omg

Heart Eyes Emoji! he is SIMPING!

( honestly i think if u specifically put raven and jersey on the dance floor turnt the fuck up it would go viral like sheeeeeeeeeeeeesh ohmygod...is it hot in here??? ravesey stan twitter Blowing Up! )

tbh my fav style at parties hc specifically like pepstyle when they start dating is that whereas stan would usually be like the last person to leave a party, when him and kyle start dating, they truly just get schwifty, makeout against the fridge and irish goodbye everyone like out of the blue, kyle is like i want to go home ;) and stan is like yEAH BYE EVERYONE SEE YOU LMAOOO KSHDLSD literally sprints out the door holding kyles hand!!! unserious!!! boys!!! down horrendous!

also to be fair jersey kyle is just such a tangle of long limbs but he took really strict and rigorous ballet courses so professionally and in refined settings he dances very beautifully...but at parties...when hes Blasted...its a mess, its so unhinged but hes REEEEALLY CUUUTE

one day i will put drunk!jersey and raven in a room and when that day comes u will all simply not be ready but im warning u anyways. <3

i did not answer your question very well, but i hope this was fun.

-uncle nina, who is...not even sure what i was trying to say?

p.s. wait i know he doesnt count technically but toolshed stan can do crazy acrobatics and shit so he can dance for Surely and would actually probably DESTROY! just dance but probably pretends to be really bad for his secret identity...human kite!kyle i want to say is an awkward alien king like learning english and strange earth customs was hard enough dancing is so weird he is not good at it...Inchresting

me in denial abt the grimy fucked up weirdly political dystopian in terms of mutants and public judgements and propaganda tfbw stan-kyle-kite-shed love square au rip oh my god dont let me do it guys

#help #i hope that made sense but im not totally sure #pep stan cannot dance he just stops giving a fuck when he drinks and gets sloppy but charismatic #raven can dance but he Had to learn & it was painful but now he can sexc lead singer boy dance rly well BUT ITS HIS JOB even if he hates it #both my kyles are stiff and awkward when not drunk and will not dance and will heckle you probably #kyles on like 2 or more drinks? they are taylor swift lanky white boy white mom dancing #throwing crazy obscene amounts of ass #its a show its quite a time to be alive i cant say if its graceful but its definetly filthy dirty nasty i luv u kyle #also fucked up! jersey kyle specifically gets really cute and red and giggly and really forward and touchy so...whew! #when that day comes...wow...what a day...praying 4 u ravenstan...good luck solider #i love pepstyle showing up to the function poaching the drinks and leaving to hook up #they are my heroes oh my god they are messy and i love them #to b fair i do think dating!ravesey would do the same shit smh #like if they are at an influencer event and jerseykyle is like im leaving or gives him The Look...its so over omg #someone asked me abt my style hcs im so excited #edit: also no1 let me do the weird intense scifi tfbw au im not supposed to omg #but like if i split them into heroes and villians due to public perception of physical mutations? #and beauty standards and xenophobia against specifically aliens in that universe and more exhausted college students #if u see that in the tags one day...its not me...shhhhh

[rae-gar-targaryen]

What is your go to cocktail recipe?

I make a mean old fashioned! I use whistlepig rye and always like to have those little dark cocktail cherries. Come over anytime! I'll make you one 💜

ask me stuff 🔥

#amazing abby #asks #i like a good stiff.... drink

[lirillith]

I reblogged that post about misogyny in classic science fiction and my lord the notes are just a carnival of poor reading comprehension and absolutely wild takes, worse today than just a few days ago ago. From people not knowing what classic science fiction is (golden age of SF is a thing, like gold and silver age comics!) to people not knowing what misogyny is, and then there's stuff like "read Sheri S. Tepper!" which... no, don't read Sheri S. Tepper. No. Don't tell people to read Sheri S. Tepper, either, not without a strong drink at hand.

I mean, Tepper is a wild-ass ride (in one book the majority of the main characters are time traveling talking animals, a fact that's only revealed midway through) but "eugenics-endorsing ecofeminism" is not going to be everyone's cup of tea, nor should it be.

#I mean if you want a good stiff drink and an absolutely bonkers reading experience you could do way worse #but as a straightforward rec out of the blue? nope

[the-lazy-old-fox]

I am righteously bummed that hard seltzers seem to be taking the ‘bitch beer’ market share, because I can’t find those flavored canned margaritas any-fucking-where any more

#alcohol cw #trashbag needs a stiff drink #or at least one that tastes good.

[realitybitesyouknowit]

Chapters: 58/58 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Luna Lovegood & Harry Potter Characters: Harry Potter, Luna Lovegood, Hermione Granger, The Bloody Baron (Harry Potter), Helena Ravenclaw, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin Additional Tags: Not for Snape fans, Overpowered Harry Potter, non-Rowling magic, Lot's of cussing, I don't call it bashing, Just my point of view, Not for Ron or Dumbledore fans, come to think of it, it's not for McGonagall fans either. Summary:

A freak potion accident renders our hero without memory of who he is. Watch as the new Harry takes Hogwarts by storm. No one is going to tell him what to do. AU 4th year. Super!Harry. Unfettered!Cussing!Harry. Not a crossover, but with a lot of Sci-fi references. Harry's a bit of an ass.

#harry potter #fanfiction #ao3 #amnesia #ron bashing #dumbledore bashing #mcGonnagall bashing #harry is kinda of an arse but honestly he has a right #overpowered harry #intent magic #Sirius is a good dog father #harry really doesn't care for Remy much #hermione is a good friend #Neville is best boy #Luna is best girl #hermione/fred/george #harry/luna #polyamory #rubber ball #Madam Bones needs a stiff drink and a vacation #sentient doxies #star trek mindscape #snape gets what he deserves #Harry cusses like a sailor #anti-bullying wards

[skylarkblue]

y’all i did my work hours for the week by 6pm this evening so i get a real weekend and i am going to use it to relax and write fanfiction

also my plans for the rest of the night involve watching stranger things 4 and drinking grape fanta and eating all the american candy i could find between the servo and dollar store in town

life is good

#skylark prive #chronic pain update: i have had a migraine all fucking day that went away for 1 hour after i drank my weight in energy drink #it's back now #and bc of the weather my joints are stiff and sore #in addition to my back #and my sister is ignoring me on instagram! #BUT OTHER THAN THOSE THINGS. LIFE IS GOOD.

[viviskull]

My muse(s), looking at my dumbass when I am lost in writing and wondering why our usual daydream playlist isn’t playing:

#I can't see shit {Shitpost} #A Nerd Behind a Nerd {OOC} #((anytime ya girl forgot to turn on her music when writing for a reply this morning and I felt so brain stiff throughout writing the entire #thing)) #*ANYWAY #((it kinda shows me that I heavily rely on music to keep my inspo going and it kinda feels like drinking milk)) #((its good for cereal but if you eat it dry... Thats how it felt writing without it))

[whinydogg]

gents im not gonna lie puppy needs a fucking break from it all

#who wants to let me eat them out for hours about it #taking genuine volunteers #i just think that a good several hours spent giving a man head would fix me #i also think that a stiff drink and a smoke would help but these things can all happen at once if im particularly lucky #barks

[gggoldfinch]

Oh god. Oh god. Sometimes people on this site make me want to claw my fucking eyes out of my head… i just saw someone saying that Wrench’s asl in Fargo is not great and it’s “clear he’s not a native speaker” & complaining about the details of his signing. my brother in Christ RUSSELL HARVARD IS FUCKING DEAF IRL !!!!!! FYM???? Also they said that he barely makes facial expressions— did you miss the part of the plot where that’s literally his go-to intimidation shtick??? I need to lie down

#I can’t I can’t #there’s actual deaf rep in a show and you claim he’s not good at asl???? I need a stiff drink

[altruisticalastor]

↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Wife!Readerˊˎ˗ ↴

☒ Summary: Lucifer gets a little too brazen with Alastor's darling wife. Guess the Ruler of Hell would just have to learn a lesson about who you belong to.

☒ Warnings: fem!reader, she/her pronouns used, jealous!alastor, soft comforting shower sex, knotting, alastor has a tail, consent, making out, soft kisses, biting, marking kink, alstor laps up the readers blood because he bites a liiiitle too hard, creampie, banter between alastor and lucifer, as well as banter between the reader and angel

☒ Word Count: 1,972

Alastor was quite the jealous type. 

You were his wife in life and death. To say he was protective of you was an understatement. So, it only made sense that Alastor would lose his composure when the ruler of hell himself arrived at the Hazbin Hotel. 

Lucifer was a rather charming man, but you were spoken for. So when he grasped your hand and placed a chaste kiss on the back of your palm, your hand yanked away in the blink of an eye. You could have sworn you heard a crackling growl escape your husband's lips as he watched Lucifer offer you a lustful gaze- and that was simply unacceptable. 

"I see you've met my wife!" Alastor let out a forced chuckle as he looped his arm around your waist, pulling you close to his side. You let out a sigh of relief. All thanks to your husband's rescue. Lucifer gave Alastor a pointed look before he blurted out, "You're joking... right?" He scoffed. 

Your face scrunched up in anger at Lucifer's rude remark. "Oh, he's as serious as a heart attack." You spat, snaking your own arm around Alastor's back. You squeezed his waist, a habit of yours that let your dear husband know when you were livid. 

"But- look at you! You're gorgeous, sweetheart, and he's just... freaky." You were about to snap back before your husband's maniacal laughter tore through the room. "Ha Ha! That's rich coming from the short stack!" Alastor quipped, grip tensing around your waist. Lucifer's chest puffed up in defense before he let out an airy laugh. 

"Aha! The height I lack up here, I surely make up for below the belt! Maybe I can show your wife sometime." Lucifer shot you a playful wink, causing your face to scrunch up in disgust. Alastor tensed beside you before he let out another forced laugh, ducking low to get in Lucifer's face. "Ha Ha! Fuck you." Your husband spat, voice missing its usual radio static tone. 

Before the situation could escalate further, Charlie intervened. Pushing her father away from the tense atmosphere while mouthing a sympathetic "Sorry!" your way. The aura in the room was stiff. You could certainly cut the tension with a butter knife. "Damn, smiles! Looks like lil' Luci himself has got eyes for your girl!" Angel stated before taking a swig of his cocktail. 

You turned your head in Angel's direction. Shooting him a warning glare. The last thing you wanted was for Angel to get caught in the crossfire of your husband's anger. Alastor remained quiet before he slowly began walking toward the staircase. You could tell he was seething with how his ears twitched atop his head. Your husband flickered up the steps without a word, making you worry. 

"Damn it, Angel! You knew he was pissed enough as is, no need to poke the bear!" You sighed, rubbing your temples as you made your way over to the bar. Husk poured you a drink, shaking his head in agreement. "Dont'cha mean poke the deer?" Angel chuckled, patting your back in a lighthearted manner. Husk cursed under his breath at Angel's remark. 

"Cut that shit out, or he'll put you on his next fuckin' broadcast," Husk grumbled, cleaning a glass with a worn-down rag. You sipped your drink before rubbing your temples once more, shaking your head in annoyance. "I should probably go check in on him..." You spoke to yourself before turning on your heel, waving a small goodbye to your two good buddies. 

"She's in for a loooong night!" Angel giggled, causing Husk to flick his forehead as a warning to "Shut the fuck up."

You took a breath before carefully opening your shared bedroom door. "Darling?" You called out, descending further into the space as you scanned the room for your husband. You peacefully made steps toward your private bathroom, having heard the shower running from beyond the door. To your luck, the door was left unlocked, making it easy for you to slip inside. 

The bathroom was full of steam as your eyes trailed to the red tufts of hair reflecting through the clear glass shower door. Alastor heard you come in, but he still remained silent. Trying his best to cool off. He hated losing his composure more than anything. Carefully, you began ridding yourself of your garments, leaving your clothes in a pile beside Alastor's. You slid the glass door open, stepping into the shower with your husband. 

Alastor's ears were pinned against his head as he stood underneath the shower head, allowing the water to cascade down his face. His back was toward you. Your husband's hands were placed in front of him on the cold tiles. Keeping him stabilized. "Al, my love? Is it alright if I touch you?" You whispered softly from where you stood behind him. A moment passed before he nodded in agreement, still remaining silent. 

Slowly, you wrapped your arms around him. Allowing your hands to caress his midsection all the way up his chest. You rested your head in between his shoulder blades, pressing your chest flush against his back. Alastor let out a deep sigh, your touch bringing him much-needed comfort. "That impudent man.." Your husband muttered, ears twitching in annoyance as he did so. You rubbed circles into his chest, placing gentle kisses against his back. 

"He's a jerk, Al. I'm all yours, forever and always," Your lips curled into a smile toward the end of your sentence as you felt his tail wagging, brushing against your lower tummy. Your husband's shoulders eased up from your words. He let out a breath before turning on his heel. Alastor's hands immediately cupped your face, doubling over to capture your lips with his. Your eyes fluttered shut, hands rubbing your husband's sides lovingly as your mouths molded perfectly against one another. 

Your shared embrace lasted a few beats longer before your husband pulled back, half-lidded crimson eyes gazing down at you. "Indeedy, my doe. You're all mine! I suppose I'll have to make it evident to the short stack... and anyone else who dares to court you." His voice dipped low; as did his wandering hands. Alastor's pointed nails dug into the back of your thighs as he hoisted you up. On instinct, your legs wrapped around his slender waist. 

A pleasant gasp escaped you as you felt your husband's hard length brush against your core. Alastor let out a deep growl against the nape of your neck as he nipped at the sensitive flesh there. "Alastor..." You whined. Tipping your head back so your husband could have better access. A shiver ran down your spine when your back collided with the cool tile walls. Alastor bit a little too harshly between the juncture of your throat and shoulder. 

A bit of blood trickled down your collarbone, but your husband was quick to lap it up. A deep groan from him sent a rush of heat down to your core. "Divine, my little doe. Absolutely delectable," Alastor mumbled against your sternum before one of his hands slipped between your bodies. He rubbed the flushed tip of his cock between your folds, groaning at the feeling of your slick. "May I, my darling?" Alastor whispered, lips ghosting over yours as he waited patiently for your approval.

"Yes, please..." You sighed, burying your hands into his soaked two-toned locks. Your husband slowly pushed himself past the tight ring of your pussy. Capturing your lips at the same time, drinking up all of your moans as he stretched you open. Your eyes rolled back into your head when Alastor bottomed out inside you. Slowly, you caressed his sensitive ears. Pride pooled in your chest when your husband twitched wildly inside you from the gesture. 

Your lips pulled back from his when Alastor began thrusting into you. His movements were sharp but shallow, not wanting to pull back more than he had to from the warmth of your pussy. Your husband's head fell forward, forehead resting flush against your shoulder. Alastor groaned against your damp skin as your walls clenched tightly around his throbbing cock. All you could do was moan in pleasure as your husband fucked into you perfectly. 

"Mine, all mine..." Alastor huffed out before suckling at the base of your neck. You could feel your husband's knot begin to swell inside you as your own release approached rapidly. Apsentmindly, Alastor's thumb dipped between your bodies. He rubbed at your clit expertly as he jackhammered up into you. Your legs tightened around his waist as the coil within your tummy was only moments from snapping. "I'm yours, all yours..." 

Your words sent Alastor over the edge. He moaned loudly into your neck as his hips stilled, emptying his load deep inside you. The feeling of your husband cumming inside you was enough to trigger your own orgasm. Alastor hissed as he felt your pussy gush around his cock, squeezing him like a vise. After a few moments, you felt Alastor's knot begin to deflate. Allowing his now softening cock to slip out of your inviting heat. "You truly are just darling. How did I get so lucky?" Alastor chuckled as he lifted his head to gaze into your eyes. 

A bashful smile crossed your features as Alastor slowly lowered your thighs from off his waist. Being sure to hold your hips, stabilizing your trembling legs. "Oh, hush! I'm the lucky one." You giggled, untangling your hands from his hair. Allowing your palms to cup his face, pulling him down for a chaste kiss. Alastor kept his eyes open as you kissed, admiring your lovely visage. After a moment, you pulled back, nuzzling your nose into his. "Now, let's get washed up before heading back out there, yeah?" 

Alastor and you emerged from the room a little while later. Meeting up with the group from where they gathered in the foyer. Charlie cheerfully waved you and your husband over, and you didn't miss the way Lucifer scowled at Alastor. "We were wondering where you lovebirds wandered off to," Vaggie stated, scooting over on the couch to allow you both to sit. Swiftly, Alastor sat on the sofa before pulling you into his lap. A smile etched into your face as your husband's arms looped around your frame, large palms caressing the tops of your thighs. 

You heard Lucifer grumble under his breath from the public display of affection. Your friends, on the other hand, had their jaws on the floor. Alastor rarely showed his physical admiration toward you in front of them. So, to say they were shocked was an understatement. "Told ya they snuck away to fuck! Look at her neck, haha- Husk! You owe me that hundred bucks," Angel blurted out. Laughing his ass off. Heat rushed to your face from your friend's crass words. Alastor, on the other hand, glared at Lucifer. His smile stretched from ear to ear as the ruler of hell fumed. 

"Angel-! Husk-?! You made a bet on whether or not Alastor and I would... ah, you fuckers!" Embarrassment flooded your entire being, hands darting up to cover your face. Alastor let out a loud chuckle from your adorable reaction. "No, toots. We're not the fuckers! You're the one who got fucked, aha!" You quickly got up from your spot atop Alastor's lap, storming over to Angel. "Husk, you're next!" You shouted, chasing Angel around the lobby. "Leave me out of this! That dumbass wouldn't shut up until I accepted the bet." Husk grumbled, not entertaining the bullshit. 

All the while, Alastor was giving Lucifer a sharp look with that shit-eating grin still illuminating his features. "As you can see, there's no need for you to show my wife your little chum below the belt. My darling is more than satisfied in my care!"

#hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel smut #alastor smut #alastor x you #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor imagine #alastor hazbin hotel

[babygirlbondage]

ive seen a lot of people talk about after care on here but only mention it to the extent of some cuddles and a bath and i just want to remind everyone that aftercare shouldnt be limited to that.

if you have a harder session, tend to your subs bruises, scratches, and marks. put ice on bruises and welts to help with inflammation and pain.

if you do bondage, take care of rope burn and help them do some stretches. their body is going to be stiff from being restricted in one position for a long time. also a heating pad can help with sore muscles.

if they have any cuts or are bleeding, dress their wounds properly. make sure to put on antibiotic ointment on before a bandage if needed.

if they have burns for whatever reason, run them under cold water and maybe use ointment on those to help them heal.

make sure they pee after sex to help prevent a UTI. their legs may be shaky so help them get to the bathroom if needed.

give them advil or some other pain med to help with any aching or discomfort.

make sure they drink water. they need it and i cant stress how important this is. also give them some food even if its just a little snack.

give them verbal assurance and praise. tell them they did good and that youre proud of them.

still run a bath, get them cleaned up, give them kisses, cuddle them, etc but dont forget about the rest of aftercare, its so important. take care of your subs and always remember consent, communication, and safety are key.

also give your doms aftercare and affection too, theyre people with emotions and need it

aftercare is just as, if not more, important than the actual scene and should never be skipped, rushed, or disregarded

#t4t nsft #t4t dom #t4t sub #t4t puppy #t4t breeding #t4t ns/fw #t4t top #t4t bottom #t4t bunny #t4t aftercare #after care #aftercare #bd/sm aftercare #trans nsft #nsft trans #trans dom #trans top #trans sub #trans bottom #trans aftercare #trans pupy #bd/sm community #bd/sm relationship #bd/sm kink #babygirlbondage

[just-spacetrash]

As someone new to Eurovision I was watching the music videos before it started but then got bored because a whole bunch of the songs are in English.

Also I understand now why people don't seem to like ballads there are Too Many ballads lol

Anyways I stopped watching the music videos before getting to Cha Cha Cha but then seeing everyone like it so much I watched it and yeah 11/10 song sure idk what they're saying but its a really fun time!!!

Yeahh!!!

#the boxing ring video is imo even better than the lava show #cause the song is about feeling stiff and serious before having a few drinks and like. letting loose or whatever #and in the music video both like sides of the character the song is about are seen clearer #like the one whos serious and icy fighting the fun loving one and everything #i think it works rly well but i understand it wouldve been very hard to do on a live stage #but the stage performance is so good too!! theyre both fun in different ways :D #asks #anon

[rafeandonlyrafe]

borrowed clothes

words: 800

warnings: 18+ only, smut, female receiving oral, unprotected p in v sex, mentions of male masturbation, friends to lovers

“rafe, can i borrow your panthers jersey?” you ask, walking into his closet without even waiting for permission.

“you know, you always steal my clothes and never give me any of yours in return.” rafe points out, following you in to the walk in, seeing you already looking through his shirts, trying to find the nfl jersey.

“its sports night, rafe.” you roll your eyes. your favorite bar does themed nights that allow discounted drinks if you come in theme. “you have a million sports things to wear, and i have none.” you remind your best friend.

“all im saying is its unfair.” rafe smiles at you as you find the jersey you were thinking of, knowing his closet better than he does. it’s just a part of being friends for your entire life, best friends.

“okay, here.” you tug your black tshirt off, having planned to wear it underneath rafes jersey, but you can deal with just your bra. rafe looks away from your chest, despite having seen you in just your underwear or swimsuit a million times.

you toss the material at him before tugging the oversized jersey over your head, tucking the front into your tiny miniskirt. “how do i look?” you ask rafe, who is now holding your discarded tshirt in his hand.

rafe nods. “good.” its all he can force himself to say. better than sexy, hot, so good that he wants to bend you over right in the closet and shove that little skirt up and bury his cock in your-

“great!” you smile. “now we gotta find something sporty for you.” you hum, turning back to his closet.

--

“rafey?” you call, entering tanneyhill without knocking. you haven’t asked permission to enter since you were a child, with rafes house being your second home.

“he’s in the shower.” wheezie calls out from the living room.

“thanks wheez!” you ruffle her hair as you walk past, teasing her like she was your own little sister.

you head up to rafes room, flopping onto the bed as you pull your phone out, waiting for rafe to finish up in the shower, hoping he won’t take too long.

you scroll through tiktok, letting out a yawn with a big stretch, readjusting and sliding your hand under rafes pillow. you frown when realize your fingers graze over a weird material, feeling oddly stiff and not something that belongs on rafes bed.

you sit up, moving the pillow to reveal your black tshirt, now covered in white stains. you frown and move it closer to inspect the fabric, eyes widening when you realize what you are holding in your hands.

your mind moves at a thousand miles a minute, realizing that rafe has been jacking off into your shirt. the implications are clear, the one piece of clothing item that he has of yours, and he uses it to get himself off?

you toss the piece of fabric back down, slamming the pillow back on top of it right as rafe opens the bathroom door, towel wrapped around his waist.

“i-i can explain.”

--

“f-fuck!” you shout out, rafes head buried in your cunt, tongue lapping over your pussy, finally tasting you like he's long awaited to. “why did it take us so long to do this?”

rafe just smiles against your cunt, glad that he didn't need to give a real explanation as you hopped off the bed and kissed him, realizing that your feelings echoed his after seeing your tshirt, suddenly feeling just as pent up.

“should have just fucked me instead of cumming all over my shirt.” you whine as his tongue flicks over your clit.

“ill buy you a new one.” rafe sucks your clit into his mouth, determined to make you cum. you let out a cry, your high building.

a shiver spreads throughout your body as rafes mouth brings you to orgasm, a scream being forced out of your body, not caring that there are other people in the house that could hear.

“fuck, you taste so good baby.” rafe moans into your cunt, tongue swiping out again until you gently push his head away, not able to take anymore on your sensitive clit.

rafe rises up, draping himself over your body. he gives you a deep kiss, your arms wrapping around his shoulders.

“i can't believe you were jacking off into my shirt thinking of me.” you giggle. 

“oh god, you're never gonna let me forget that, are you?” rafe groans, moving lower to rub his cock between your folds, soaking it in your wetness.

you laugh before it's cut off by rafes lips.

“can i fuck you y/n?” rafe asks, lining himself up with your entrance.

“yeah.” you nod. “yeah, need you.”

“last chance to rethink this. because once i enter you, we can't just be friends anymore.”

“i know, i know.” you peck a kiss to rafes lips. “hurry up and fuck me already.”

rafe smiles down at you as he slowly presses forward, your walls giving way to his thick cock.

“i love you.” rafe admits with a gasp.

“i love you too.”

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @emma77645 @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart

#rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #obx smut #outer banks smut #rafe fluff #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fic #rafe fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fanfic #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe x you

[peachesofteal]

Simple Math / Part Ten

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 5.4k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Masturbation, dirty (self) talk, brief daddy kink. This fic contains mature themes. Domestic violence. Grooming. Feelings of fear and anxiety. Nurse!reader. Kissing. Lots of dialogue. Bun considers making a friend. Penny is cute. Flirting. Touching. Comfort. Bun refers to herself as "heavy". Simon is Simon. POV switch. Dinner date.

“I’m Philip.”

The handsome brunette smiles, grabbing onto your hand. You blink, trying to understand, trying to make it make sense, when he prompts you with a teasing grin. “This is the part where you tell me your name, sweet thing.” 

Oh. You stumble over it, tongue tied into a million knots, sweat from the Texas sun beating down your back, sweat slicking your shirt to your skin. 

He’s still holding your hand, and you’re standing there with wide, doe eyes, shell shocked. 

He’s… so handsome. And older. Older, and handsome. Polished type, with good teeth and good hair. He looks like he just stepped off the golf course. 

Why is he talking to you? 

He glances down at your drink. 

“You even old enough to be drinkin’ that?” 

“I-“ You’re terrible at lying, and like he can read it on your face, he chuckles. 

“You live around here?” 

“I go to Rice.” 

“A bit young for college, aren’t you?” 

“I just turned eighteen!” You’ve heard it a million times. You’re too young to understand something, or know something, or do something. You don’t get the way the world works yet. You’re not an adult. 

He holds his hands up. “I’m sorry. I bet you’re one of the really smart girls that make all us men look like Neanderthals.” Your face heats. 

“N-no. I just… I graduated early. I’m not a know it all.” You defend yourself, desperate to create distance from the usual stereotype, the way most people see you. The way boys see you. 

Too smart. Face buried in a book. Awkward and stiff. Uncool. 

He traces you from head to toe, appreciative gaze grazing over the swell of your hips, the generous curve of your ass. “I didn’t think you were. Too mature for that, I bet.” He croons, and your knees go weak. 

“Y-yeah. A lot of people say I’m really mature.” 

Two things compete for your attention when you open your eyes.

One: there is a soft, lovely song playing downstairs, something spring-like and sweet, vibrant without being too loud.

Two: the house smells like pancakes.

You check your phone, shocked to see you’ve slept for yet another 12 hours. There’s a text from Nia, and a text from your boss.

>You have a lot of time accrued. Take as much as you need. 

That settles that, you guess.

There are also text messages in the group chat, one from Simon, and one from Johnny, coming in only a few minutes ago.

Simon: >Penny gets pancakes on Saturday mornings. They’ll be plenty, come down and eat when you’re ready. 

Johnny: >I’m missing all the good stuff. 

You stretch, cautiously, wiggling fingers and toes, spreading your limbs as far as you can without pushing it too much. You’re sore, uncomfortably so, and still exhausted, but if you stay in bed any longer, you’ll rot.

In the kitchen, Simon holds Penny and a mixing bowl, alternating hands to get a whisk through the batter while humming to his daughter on her hip.

You stop dead in your tracks.

He’s… he’s not wearing the mask. 

You stare at his face, his whole, naked face for the first time, taking in the broad jaw, every shiny white scar, and his (twice, if you had to guess) healed broken nose. He’s handsome, differently from Johnny but no less striking, and you can’t look away, stunned by his raw, depthless and rugged beauty. Penny’s leg has kicked up the hem of his shirt, exposing his midsection, and the flash of skin there feels like a scandal, something you shouldn’t be seeing but cannot get enough of. He looks nothing like you expected and yet… everything you hoped for.

“Morning.” Pen tucks her face into his chest shyly, peeking out from the corner of her eye, curious and cute. “Can you say good morning to bunny?” He bounces her a little, and she giggles.

"Bunny." She says quietly, and Simon laughs.

“That’s right. Good job.” After a second of silence, you try to ask him about the missing mask, but the question gets confused on your tongue, and what comes out instead is clumsy and stunted.

“Your mask.” You cringe, immediately. It’s the first thing that slips loose, insensitive, and uncouth. “I uh, I’m sorry, I’m just… surprised?” you falter, and makes it worse. You think about trying to run back upstairs, hightailing it for the hills when he smiles, and points to the empty stool at the kitchen counter with a batter covered whisk.

“Sit.” There’s already a stack piled high, plain, and ones with big, juicy blueberries. Your favorite. 

“So, pancakes every Saturday?”

“Mhmm.” He settles Penny in her highchair to your left, and pulls an already cooled pancake from the stack, cutting it up into little, tiny pieces with a child’s knife and fork. “Pen and her Da,” he pads some butter across the top of his handiwork, grabbing her sippy cup and filling it with milk. “Have pancakes every Saturday when he’s home. It’s their favorite. Right?” He points at her, “your favorite?” and taps his middle finger to his chin, others outward, straight up. “Your favorite?” Signing?

“Are you teaching her sign?”

“Trying to. Pen’s birth mum is deaf. It’s important to us, that she’s able to connect with her when the time comes. Plus, my hearing is shot. So is Johnny’s. It’s a great way for her to communicate with us.” He strokes some fingers through her curls, and she doesn’t even look up, too busy shoveling as much pancake into her mouth as she can. You have a million questions now, curiosities bubbling to the surface, about Pen’s mum, about her life, about how she came to be their child. All too rude, and too invasive to ask. “Or, to use when she’s feeling sassy and can’t find the words. That happens, too.”

“She’s what…sixteen months?” You watch her intently, unable to not smile when she cheeses at her dad with a mouthful of food, even though your tender skin stings with the movement.

“Yeah. Top percentiles in a lot of things for her age. Said her first word before she was one.” He’s rich with pride, a deep well of love shining in his eyes, and you force your own down to the plate, stifling the ache bleeding from your heart.

“Of course she is.” Penny holds pieces of sticky, syrupy pancake with both hands, attacking them with vigor, smearing her cheeks purple with the squished blueberries.

You need to eat something, but your brain is buzzing, unnatural discomfort stretching long in the back of your mind.

What’re you doing? Sitting here eating pancakes like everything is normal? Like everything’s okay? 

Everything is not okay. 

You drift, back to your apartment, back the venom of Phillip, the hands around your neck, the twist of your shoulder, back slamming into the wall. You can still feel him, still hear him, these memories like all the others, your body beaten on the floor, mind nearly broken. Trying to shift away from the hot end of a cigarette, screaming for help, running through a-

A hand covers yours.

He coaxes the fork from your fingers, metal vibrating within flesh.

“I think… I think I should go back to bed.” You whisper.

“Are you tired?”

“No… yeah. I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to run away, you know.” He flips a pancake onto your plate from the stack. “Just because you were somewhere else for a little bit.” Your cheeks burn. “We’ve got a pretty nice couch in the living room though, if you want some time alone and don’t feel too keen on the stairs.” Saturday morning pancakes and curling up on the couch? It sounds so nice, so normal, and must show on your face, because he chuckles. “Help yourself. You might have to share the TV though, in a bit. We watch baby Einstein on Saturdays, and she’ll need some entertaining for a minute while I get ready.” Your lips twist, an entire hearth lighting up in the bottom of your heart.

“Alright.”

Baby Einstein is as enthralling as you thought it would be, though Penny disagrees. She stares at the screen, wide eyed, open mouthed, sippy cup long forgotten, and even Simon struggles to get her attention after returning from getting dressed.

You force your eyes away from the strain of his thighs in blue jeans.

“We’re goin’ down to the hospital.” He tells you, pulling her upward over the back of the couch and rubbing his nose through her curls. It’s still… weird, to see his whole face. To clearly watch his expressions, sublime bliss pushing his mouth upward whenever he looks at his daughter. “Want to come?”

“I can’t, not if I’m taking time off. It… looks bad to admin. I can probably go in at night but, during the day is just a recipe for disaster.”

“Of course.” He looks around, for what you don’t know, shoulders tensing, then relaxing. “Well, you’ve got the remote. And my number. Are you… going to be, okay? Alone?”

Say yes. 

You can’t. All you can do… is nod.

“Okay well if you’re not. Just call.” You nod again, getting to your feet. Once you’re standing, you’re out of place, flailing in their living room, about to be here alone, with your memories, your poisoned mind.

What’re you doing? You’ve ruined everything. Broken all your rules. 

“We can stay.” Simon steps close, hand grazing the middle of your back, and you shake your head.

“No, no- I… I’m sorry.”

“You don’t-“

“Yes, I do.” Your voice shakes, and you slam your eyes shut. You can’t do this. “I shouldn’t be here. I’m putting you in danger, and I… I’m putting myself in danger and I’m being so- so stupid, Simon.” His gaze is heavy, serious, and he steps around you, sliding Penny into her bounce seat, turning it to face baby Einstein.

“Listen to me.”  As he returns, he reaches, carefully pulling you close, close enough you’re nearly in his chest, timing the rise and fall of his diaphragm. “We are safe, you are safe, sweetheart. ‘m not going to let anything happen to you, or Penny, or any of us. Alright?”

“You don’t understand.”

“Tell me.” You almost laugh, but something comes over you instead, something delirious and desperate. You lean into him, letting him hold you, hand smoothing over the back of your head. “You can tell me. You can trust us. We’ll take care of you.”

God, you want to. You want to so bad it aches, burns a ravenous fire in your heart. You want tell him, let them in. Tell them everything.

“Bun.” He murmurs, bringing you back, a finger under your chin.

“I can’t. I’m sorry, I can’t. It’s… it’s too much.”

“It’s alright.” He soothes, but doesn’t pull away, and you’re drawn in like a magnet, rising to the balls of your feet, stuck in a trance, luring you closer.

He meets your halfway.

And then-

He’s kissing you, plush lips on yours, pancakes and fresh laundry and stained-glass windows of sanctuary on his tongue.

You’re standing in the sun, in the trance of another spell.

It’s a mouthful of butterscotch and maple. Sweet, delicious breakfast in bed, lazy Saturday mornings and whispered, tender words. It’s life unlike your own, a home, the promise of a love not fractioned, chipped away, or strangled… but multiplied, magnified. His touch is painfully gentle, slow and easy, encouraging you to follow his lead, carefully constructing a tiny universe to disappear to, where shadow cannot touch. A fantasy, cocoon of stars, ambrosial and sacrosanct, an escape from the hell nipping at your heels, the hell chasing you through your dreaming and waking hours. 

The anxious hum radiating through every cell in your body flatlines.

The girl in the mirror weeps.

Everything goes silent. Your breathing slows. Your hands fall to the side, listless and stunned.

Penny grunts. The moment shatters.

You can only stare with wide, terrified eyes.

“Johnny.” It’s the first word out of your mouth, the only thing you can conjure. “I’m sorry, I don’t know… I’m sorry.” Johnny. Johnny’s not here. How can he kiss you when his partner isn’t here? His heart will be broken, you’re destroying their family, you’re-

“I kissed you, bunny. Nothin’ to be sorry about.” Simon hums, still holding your face. “Johnny’s okay. He’ll be a bit jealous he didn’t get one too, but he won’t be upset.”

“How?” the question squeaks, and he takes your hand, tugging you towards the couch, settling you back into the cushions, easily guiding you with deft hands. He's so careful, so gentle, the touch of a man who raises a daughter, who loves his partner, adroit and nimble, anticipating movement before it happens. 

“After Penny goes down tonight, let’s have a drink. Or some late dinner. We can talk, and I’ll answer as many of your questions as I can. How’s that sound?” He strokes a thumb across the apple of your cheek. Talking can’t hurt, can it?

“O-okay. Yeah.” You try to shrug, pain lancing through your shoulder, and you try to smother your wince. He frowns.

“I want you to get some rest today.” A small grin creeps across your face.

“You always tell people what to do?” He nods, solemn.

“It’s my job. Takin’ care of you lot is an added bonus.” He breezes by the grouping of you with his family, like it’s a normal thing, rubbing circles in your palm. “Let’s get you comfortable.”

“I can-“

“I’m here. Let me help.” You don’t say anything at first. Can’t say anything, can’t formulate a response that encompasses everything you’re thinking and feeling, stuck on the mile high wall that is your fear and denial, afraid to jump. Afraid to fall.

He doesn’t push. Doesn’t ask you to respond, He just… settles you, cautiously arranging the pillows to support your injuries, lets you sit there atop the wall, staring down at the ground where they wait. Patiently. He rubs your back and your good shoulder until you’re drifting away in heady, hazy dream world, unable to stir when he slips free, tucking the blankets in around you, and pressing another long, lingering kiss to your brow.

You wake in a panic to the doorbell ringing. Your heart races, and you’re up off the couch, tucked around a corner of the hall, hiding, in a blink, even though your shoulder and neck scream at the sudden change of position.

Breathe. You’re losing it. Philip wouldn’t ring a doorbell. 

The door clicks open.

“Hello?” A woman’s voice echoes to where you’re still curled around the hallway, back pressed flat, eyes closed. “Hello? Anyone home?” Who is that? 

You peek, like a child. Peering around to see a familiar woman with grocery bags in her hands, depositing them on the kitchen counter.

She spots you immediately.

“Hi!” She’s grinning, pretty and bright, pulling a carton of milk from a brown paper bag and putting it in the fridge. “I’m Lou. Sorry, did I scare you? I tried to ‘announce’ myself.” She makes bunny ears with her fingers before and after the word announce, with half of an eye roll. “John’s always telling me I have to when I come over. Can’t be giving anyone surprises, and I knew you were here. Just wasn’t sure if you’d be up for visitors. Sorry if I gave you a fright.”

“No, I…” you trail off, readjusting, giving her your name. She nods and smiles again. “I remember you. In front of the elevator that day.”

“Yeah, that was me.” She’s earnest in her focus, beaming at you, almost like she’s excited.

“You look a little different out of your cute scrubs.” That gives you a small laugh, and you smile honestly at her, flattered.

“Thanks.”

“Sorry if I’m disturbing you.”

“Oh no, you’re not. I was just… I’m fine.” She pulls a flat of eggs free and stacks them next to a colorful pile of produce.

“I do the store runs for Simon right now. It’s too much, with Johnny in hospital and taking care of Pen. We’ve been trying to lighten his load.” Guilt twists. And here you are, adding onto it. 

“That’s very nice of you.” She waves it off.

“They’ve kept my husband alive a million times over. It’s the least I can do.”

“Right… they… work together?”

“Simon is semi-retired but yeah. They’re in a global task force. It’s the four of them. Have you met Kyle yet?”

“Oh, yeah. At the hospital one day.”

“Best guy, really.” Her clothes swish, warm and sweet aura practically glowing.

“Yeah, he was really nice.” She rests her hands on her hips and looks you over.

“You okay?” This woman is direct. She's got a no nonsense approach, and through intense, there's true ardor in her, passion and care. 

“Yeah, I’m just… still recovering.” You don’t know what she knows, not sure what they’ve told her or John, so you’re not sure how much, or what even, to say.

“Simon told us, about you being mugged. I’m so sorry, it’s just awful.” She’s sincere in her sympathy, big brown eyes sad and considerate.

“It’s okay, thank you. I’m okay.”

“If you need anything, I’m always around. Or if you want to talk to another girl that isn’t a toddler.” It’s an olive branch of friendship, you realize, or the beginnings of, and you’re startled, considering it, wondering if it would be so bad… to have a friend.

“Thank you.” She gives you her number, and you tap it in, shooting her a text with your name.

“You should sit.”

“I can help with these.”

“No, no. No offense, but you look half asleep. I’ve got it.” You laugh even though it hurts, awkward half shrug with good shoulder, and agree.

“Yeah, I’m still recovering. It’s been slow.”

“I’m sure.” You sit at the counter, watching her organize the fridge with scary efficiency. “I’ll be out of your hair in a minute. Just had to drop these off.”

“Oh, you’re fine.” It’s nice. You’re nice. She feels safe, the proximity to Simon and Johnny naturally leading you to feel comfortable, knowing she’s welcomed by them, she’s a part of their life. It makes you feel more at ease, and you try to convey it without getting tangled up in awkward words.

You don’t know how. Not really sure how to make genuine friends anymore, so you just sit there and watch, listening to her talk, enjoying how she rambles a little bit, laughing at herself.

When she says goodbye at the door, she promises to text you the next time she’s coming by, so you’re not surprised, and you linger there, watching her go, wondering if it’s real, surprisingly mourning the loss of companionship already.

“Johnny misses you.” The ice in Simon’s rocks glass clinks together as he sips his bourbon, corner of his mouth lifting in a partial smirk. “Not too fond of his new nurse, I’m afraid. Think he’s spoiled now.”

“How is he?” You’re on the edge of your seat for an update, but not wanting to pry too much. It’s a delicate line, one where you don’t know on which side to stand.

“Good. Wrist fracture is nearly healed, so he’ll be able to start on crutches soon. Once he does, he’ll be doing physical therapy for most of his day, and ready to come home. Should be soon.” He really smiles now, and you mirror it, unable to deny the infectious bloom of happiness spreading from him to you.

“And his liver?”

“No complications. Grafts for his burn are in great shape. Hip is the trickiest part.”

“Yeah, they take a lot longer to heal, but I’m sure he’ll do a great job of it, just like everything else.”

“Thanks to you.” You sip your wine, citrusy peach and passionfruit coating your tongue. It’s a nice bottle, and you were surprised when Simon brought it home, bag of takeaway in one arm, Penny in the other.

“No.”  Your cheeks heat. “I was just there. You guys did the hard work.”

“Wouldn’t have made it without you though. Think I would’ve lost it. Him too.”

“You would’ve been fine.” You brush it off, and he shakes his head.  

“You’re too modest.” He drains his pour, uncapping the bottle on the coffee table between you and refilling it halfway. Glass on glass chimes, and you sink deeper into the couch, relaxing, tucking your knees up until you’re half curled into a ball, wine glass cradled between your palms.

“So…”

“I told you; you can ask me whatever you like.” You knew this was the case, but hesitance is still brimming in your heart, uneasy feelings festering beneath your skin, burning question shoving to the surface.

“Did you tell Johnny we kissed?”

“I did.”

“Was he upset?”

“Only because he feels like he’s missing out. I told him we’d make it up to him.” Fire enflames your skin. We?

“And by we you mean… us. Together. Like… the three of us.”

“I do.” The girl in the mirror screams. She doesn’t understand, why you continue to act against her better judgement. Why you’re entertaining something so, so dangerous, something so stupid.

“Simon, I… I can’t.”

“You keep saying that but look where you are, bun.” He motions to the table, takeaway cartons scattered across the top, half empty bottle of wine, his bourbon, and a baby monitor. It looks like a nice night in, a simple, sweet life, not even close to being your own.

Still, the girl in mirror combats. Still.

“This isn’t… this isn’t a thing it’s just… we’re hanging out. I’m not going to be here forever, I’m looking for a place and I-“ His face changes, flicker of shadow fading across his brow before being chased away by the sunlight in his eyes. You thought he'd be easier to read, without the mask, imagined you'd be able to place his expressions but you're just as confused and lost as ever. 

“Slow down. There’s no need to look for a place to live.”

“W-what?” The wine has made you a little slow, a little sleepy, and you blink through the stupor.

“You’re still healing, sweetheart, and I know you're scared. I’ve known since the first day you stepped into Johnny’s room.”

“No.” You shake your head. Pain fizzles, numbed by alcohol, and your head swims.

“I know you weren’t mugged.” How? “I know you’re running from someone.” Oh god. The urge to get to your feet and bolt washes over you like a wave.

“I- I’m not.” The lie is bare-boned, pathetically unconvincing, and you know it. He knows it too; you can tell by the look on his face.

“You’re not ready to tell me, that’s fine. I’m patient. But you won’t be going anywhere if I don’t know you’re safe. And right now, to me, it doesn’t seem like you’re safe.” The pale yellow of your wine shines in the low lights of the living room, and you get lost in it, swirling around in his words, trying to put them together and pick them apart, desperate to understand what he means.

“Are you… are you saying you won’t let me leave?” You gulp. It’s a ridiculous conclusion, but the first one you jump to.

And in that, you know you’re giving too much away.

His face softens, and he reaches, pulling your free hand into his own, petting some sort of sequence into your skin. 

“Of course not, sweetheart. I’d never, ever force you to do something you didn’t want to do. But I do want you to stay, here with us. Where we can keep you safe, take care of you.”

“I don’t need-“

“I know you don’t. I know you take care of yourself just fine.” The indignant roar in the back of your mind settles. “But I’d love an opportunity to do it instead.”

“Simon…”

“Did you know the cells in our body hold onto trauma? They carry imprints of traumatic events. It can change your biology, the way you function.” He squeezes your hand. “It’s hard to realize… that it’s not normal, the way you might be, the way you think, or do things, when you’re carrying the physical memory of terrible things.” He’s not talking about you. There’s a fleeting flash of sadness in his eyes, ghosts circling the drain around his irises, and your heart aches. “We can help you. I don’t know who you’re hiding from, but I can guess what they’ve done- look at me.” You force your eyes back to him, and he cups your cheek. “You do not have to be afraid here. You are safe with me, with us. I know you don’t believe it, and I’ll tell you as many times you need, but it will never not be true. We can help you.”

“You don’t know… you don’t know what you’re saying.” Your denial is steadfast. They cannot possibly understand. 

A small seed of light blooms under darkness. It’s the sun, struggling to break free, trying to drag you into its warm, golden rays. It tugs and tugs, clawing towards you, illuminating the path forward.

The words come out before the girl in the mirror can stop them.

“You don’t know him. He’s sick and… powerful. He’s a monster but he’s smart, has connections, has ways of doing things that… I don’t even know. He’d kill you.” You clap your hand over your mouth in shock, surprised at yourself. It’s the most you’ve said about Philip in years.

You expect pushback. Expect Simon to flinch, or cower, or have good sense… a rational reaction to being told someone might try to hurt him.

He smiles instead, settling back on his side of the couch.

“I’d just have to get to him first, then.” Is he… is he? Simon watches you, reaches into your brains to peer inside, rooting around in your head. The way he looks at you, like he knows everything you’re feeling, can see what you're thinking, makes you shiver, makes you feel like you’re a tiny mouse in the shadow of a mountain. He sighs. “Give us a chance.”

“A chance?”

“A chance, to know you. Let us in, let us try. Stay here, with us, spend time with me and Johnny and Pen. No strings attached. If you decide it’s not for you… we’ll understand.”  

No strings attached. 

You could pick up and leave if you wanted. If you had to. 

What’re you doing? 

“How does it work? Would we all…” you trail off, confused.

“Date?” Simon finishes gently. “Yes.”

“So, you guys are… bi?” He chuckles.

“Yes, sweetheart. We’re bi.”

“Is this… a thing? Something you guys do?”

“We’ve never taken another partner before, no.” Your eyes widen. “You’re our first.” You don’t know why, but knowing is exhilarating and terrifying, all at the same time. You’re their first. 

He’s talking about it like it’s already happened. 

Fatigue settles in around you, thick fog of it draping over your shoulders and clouding your head.

“I… I don’t know.” You stifle a yawn. “I need to think.” He abandons his perch for one next to you, pulling your wine glass free and setting it on the table.

“Tired?” His fingers sweep over your cheek, skin warming under his touch.

“Mhmm.” You mumble, sleepily. Your head is very heavy, suddenly, hard to hold up.

“Alright.” He stands, bending to slide an arm under your knees, the other supporting your back in one fluid movement.

“What are you doing?” You squeak, grabbing onto him as he rises, lifting you into his chest at full height. Panic floods your nervous system, fevered tone pitching into a plea. “Put me down! I’m too heavy. Please, I’m too heavy, you can’t-“

“I’ve lifted a car off a teammate before.” He tells you, the thick of his body beneath your ear vibrating. “And I’ve dug Johnny out of a collapsed concrete wall. I’m made to pick things up, bunny. Heavy or not.” He holds you right there, all the way up the stairs, down the hall to the guest room, before settling you back on your feet, big hands around your waist for balance. Your back is to his chest now, and his nose drifts across the top of your head, slow path of his fingers stroking down your hip. “Alright?” He asks, and you nod, throat too dry to speak.

He squeezes. You stifle a gasp, resist the urge to press your thighs together.

It’s been so long since you’ve been touched, since anyone has handled you with reverence, with affection. You almost don’t recognize it.

His hand drifts, slipping between your thigh and cheek. “This okay?” He murmurs, and you manage a rough yes, word sticky and thick in your throat. Yes. Yes, don’t stop. A fingertip strokes along the crease there, back and forth, before trailing upward. He takes as much of your flesh in his palm as he can, squeezing again, caressing, mouth skimming along your neck.  

“Oh.” you breathe. The room is warm, barely lit by the bedside lamp, and you burn in the dark, sensations sparking alive that have long laid dormant.

The girl in the mirror curses you.

“Need help getting to bed?”

“N-no.” Yes! “I’m… fine.” His lips touch your cheek, then your ear, breath blowing over you, firm, solid warm mass at your back exhaling shakily.

“Get some sleep.” He steps away, but not before he swings, slowly, softly, into the pillow plush of your ass. It’s a gentle tap, but the fire between your legs roars. “Goodnight, bun.”

“G-goodnight.”

Simon's got his sweatpants and boxers off before he's even fully in the bathroom, running right into the shower, hand wrapped around his throbbing cock as the water flicks on. It's not hot enough, but he doesn't even notice, cock heavy in his grip, tip already smeared wet with pre-come. 

"Fuck, bunny." He grits, trying to stay quiet but unable to hold his tongue.

He's awful, for this. Awful for doing this after you've had such an emotional night. Awful for touching you when you're still healing, awful for grabbing a handful of your ass and imagining sliding his dick through the space between those cheeks. He can't stop, strokes himself long, squeezing the base and pulling up and back as he imagines you on all fours, perfect globe perked up in the air for him, his cock sinking into your soaking wet pussy as you moan. He knows you would make the prettiest sounds for them, sweet gasps and cries, bouncing on Johnny's cock in his lap. 

"Hop like a bunny." He'd coo, and you'd whine, riding Johnny as Simon coached you until you were so close, almost there on the edge. "Show daddy how bad you want to come, little bunny." 

He jerks himself harder, eyes closed, imagining the ripple of your flesh, the way you'd bounce so perfectly, how Johnny would be gripping your hips with his head tipped back, throat exposed for Simon to nip and suck a mark into.

His bunny. His boy. 

His toes curl. Water streams down his back, slicking his skin, forearm burning with each stroke, imagination running wild as he gets closer and closer, thinking about you and Johnny and him together, finally, your legs spread wide in front of their faces, perfect pussy on display. He can almost hear the way you'd whisper their names, and it blinds him, fills his head with white light. He knows you're beautiful when you come, as beautiful as you are when you let your guard down and give him a real smile, as beautiful as you are everyday, so pretty and perfect, kind, even as a ghost. He imagines it, pictures it, the sight of his and Johnny's come leaking out of your hole, fingers shoving it back inside, marking you as theirs. 

He comes with your name on his lips, a strangled whisper, painting the tile with himself. 

He falls asleep with a new addition in their bed, on top of Johny's t shirt and the baby monitor... there's now a long sleeved tee, plucked from your dirty laundry this morning as he was getting ready to leave. It smells like you, something he wishes he could bottle, and he holds it close, tied in tandem with Johnny's, curled in his arms on top of the pillow. 

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