#they all harmonize together? fucking beautiful

[pop-punklouis]

so..... If I Could Fly......

what the fuck was that.

#i was listening to 1D on my way to work this morning and damn the last chorus out of the bridge where each member sings one line before #they all harmonize together? fucking beautiful #what a treasure

[babyjakes]

you all over me.

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event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | double penetration

pairing | soft!dark!daddies!steve rogers and ari levinson x little!reader

warnings | dark ddlg dynamic (soft!dark!daddies of captive!little!reader.) dub/non-con. size kink. reader is held down and fucked. stretching. loss of anal virginity. unprotected double penetration (vaginal and anal.) mentions of anal training/stretching/fingering. clit rubbing. crying kink. praise and encouragement. mocking/humiliation. forced orgasm (with implied previous forced orgasms.) overstimulation. they come in her. little bit of aftercare.

word count | 1,386

an | this is written in the same au as clear blue water, with captive!reader and her soft!dark!daddies.

Tears poured down your damp cheeks as your face was tucked into the warm crook of Steve's neck. Arms reaching up weakly, you almost wanted to cling to the safety of his broad form as he lay beneath you, heavy breaths harmonizing with your own.

But that wouldn't do for your daddies- not for either of them. "Come on, babydoll. Where's that pretty face," the blonde crooned as his hips thrust upward over and over, rocking your own. His hands were on your waist, Ari's just above them as both the men worked to keep you upright and in place, their massive lengths pounding into you with steady rhythm.

They had been fucking you like this for what felt like hours, but the sensations of fullness and overstimulation you were experiencing were still just as overwhelming and horrible as when they had first pushed into you. Steve had gone first, both of the men knowing you would tolerate his part better. They were a bit concerned when you were in tears from the vaginal penetration alone, but as usual, they wouldn't be discouraged. As difficult as it was, and as pitiful as you were to watch as you were held down and split open, Ari was eventually able to work himself into you as well.

As they kept their four strong hands on you, working you up and down over their throbbing cocks like nothing more than a fleshlight with a pulse, you honestly couldn't tell which forceful insertion felt worse. It was all blurring together, the world nothing more than a streaky haze through your steady tears. The men shared a sympathetic glance with each other before Steve refocused his attention back on you. "Poor girl," he murmured lowly, bringing a hand up to brush away your tears with his thumb. "Know it's so hard, little one. So hard to take both your daddies' cocks at the same time, isn't it?"

"So full, aren't you, baby?" Ari nodded in agreement, his oversized member stretching your poor little bottom to its absolute limit. Despite the generous amount of lube they'd used and the time they'd spent patiently coaxing your tiny hole open with their greedy fingers, nothing could ease the horrible burning feeling that bloomed through your lower half as you were taken in the ass for the very first time.

"Look so pretty like this, all stretched out stuffed full of us," Steve groaned, his cock twitching so hard within your aching walls that you could feel it, your poor tummy spasming in response. To the man lying comfortably on his back, there had never been a sight quite as beautiful as this: watching from the front as your tiny holes were so helplessly violated, large hands holding you in place and giving you no choice but to sit there and take it, your perky tits bobbing perfectly as your figure was worked at a steady, punishing pace.

And though he couldn't see your chest as well, or the pretty little faces you were making as your body was used and abused so sinfully, Ari's view from behind you wasn't anything to turn his nose up at, either. He loved the way your back arched up as their dicks kept you angled forward towards Steve, your adorable ass bouncing in rhythm as his cock tore into your throbbing, achy hole. He could easily keep you going with just his hands alone; with both him and Steve being so much larger and stronger than you, it wasn't difficult for either one of them to overpower you and allow the other to make better use of a second pair of hands.

Which is just what Steve did as his partner held you up and in place, giving him the signal of a nod. "Go ahead, Stevie. Let's give some attention to that pretty little clit of hers," Ari suggested. Steve spit on his thumb, bringing the other hand down to pull back its protective hood as he smeared the clear wetness all over your poor little bundle of nerves. Your body jerked harshly at the stimulation, but you couldn't do anything to stop them or squirm away; you were completely helpless, having no choice but to let the blonde rub your exposed little nub in quick, harsh circles.

"Please, p-please... n-no!" you choked through your tears as your whole body began to shake with sobs.

"C'mon doll, doesn't that feel good? Know you like it when we pull back the hood and rub you right there, right on your cute little button," Steve frowned and faked worry at your cries, though he and Ari both knew perfectly well the way their actions and words were tormenting you.

"That's right," Ari mused from behind you as he kept your trembling body moving across their stiff lengths, "our pretty girl loves having her sweet little clit rubbed. Makes her come so hard, doesn't it Stevie? Poor baby can't help it when her daddies play with her clit, but it sure is cute to watch her try and fight it."

"So cute," Steve hummed in agreement, watching intently as your breaths began staggering, your little feet kicking weakly as your knees shook and struggled on either side of him. "Oh? Looks like she's getting close here," the blonde sang as he continued his skillful work over your slick, sticky nub. "Can feel her little pussy fluttering- what do you think, babydoll? You gonna be a good girl and come for your daddies?"

Watching as your buildup continued, Ari and Steve shared a knowing nod, both increasing the speed of their respective roles as their cocks pumped more vigorously inside you. This is the moment they had been waiting for; of course they were hoping to come as you did. A few orgasms had been forced from your trembling form earlier as you were held down by one and stretched out on the other's fingers, but this was meant to be the grand finale, the climax you would all share, whether you were willing or not.

"Can feel her squeezing us- she's getting close," Ari grunted as their dicks clapped lewdly into your dripping holes. "That's it, sweetheart. Come on, almost there..."

Your resistance was a losing game. As much as you fought and defied them each time, a sense of helplessness was never absent from within you; you knew you'd be forced to come. And with both of them thrusting into you at an almost immeasurable speed, and Steve's torturous hands working your clit the way he knew best, there was nothing for you to do but let them have their way with you. Eyes squeezing shut as your tummy tightened, your little toes curled as your orgasm was ripped from your faltering grasp. You came long and hard, Steve and Ari's triumphant words of praise merely echoes as heat and shocks of ecstasy overcame your exhausted body.

Warmth burst in your core as you were pumped full of both the men's come, Ari's fingers digging in almost painfully around your waist as their cocks swelled and sputtered within you. When you were finally coming down from your impressively long high, you let out a soft, broken cry as Steve finally eased your body down to rest limply against his front. "Shhh," you could hear him humming soothingly, someone's hand rubbing your back as you sniffled and sobbed into your captor's chest. "Easy pulling out of her," he was murmuring to Ari as the world seemed to slow around you.

"You're okay, baby. You were so good for us," the brunette was praising you softly from behind as he shifted a bit inside you, trying to measure how careful he needed to be as he and his partner now shifted their focus towards damage control.

"Don't cry, little one. Daddy's here, Daddy's got you," Steve kissed the top of your head as he cooed at you, his broad arms cradling you lovingly as you clung to him. You were desperate for any comfort and tenderness you could get at this point, even if it was straight from the hands of your abusers. This is usually how you wound up at the end of the day, a weeping mess in your daddies' arms, and they wouldn't have it any other way.

#eun's writing #you all over me #kinkmas 2023 #steve rogers #steve roger fanfiction #steve rogers smut #ari levinson #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson smut #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #daddy!steve rogers #steve rogers x little!reader #dark!steve rogers #daddy!ari levinson #ari levinson x little!reader #dark!ari levinson #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers blurb #steve rogers drabble #steve rogers headcanon #ari levinson imagine #ari levinson one shot #ari levinson drabble #ari levinson blurb #ari levinson headcanon #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you

[wispyfacedjoel]

sun (joel miller x f!reader)

summary - you and joel on vacation together. warnings/tags - 18+MDNI, no outbreak, boyfriend!joel, soft!joel, possessive!joel for like two lines, swimming, grinding, ass grabbing, unprotected PIV, oral (m and f receiving), overstimulation, face fucking, squirting?. i think that's it, let me know if i missed anything!!! word count - 3k note - i just wanna say thank you so much for loving my last joel miller x reader, laundry, i adore all the nice things people have said about it!!! ive been meaning to post this for a while but ive been on holiday!! anyway, hope you like it. kiss kiss.

The beach atmosphere was a symphony of sensory delights: the gentle caress of the salt-kissed breeze, the rhythmic melody of waves serenading the shoreline, and the sun painting your skin as it rested upon your exposed body.

The laughter of people around you and the distant cries of native birds harmonized with the soothing rock of the waves against the shore, creating a feeling of solitude deep within the expansion of your chest.

Your oversized sunglasses were heavy atop your sun-kissed nose, shielding your eyes from the blinding midday sun. Your body glistened, droplets of the ocean water glimmering like liquid diamonds on your skin after a refreshing plunge into the clear blue water.

Joel, your long-term boyfriend, sat in the lounge chair beside you, hand on your bottom as you laid on your stomach. “Does your hand have to be there? I’m going to get a bad tan line.” You said to Joel, turning your head to look at him and moving your sunglasses to sit atop your head.

Joel shrugged, not even bothering to look as he laid on his back, eyes closed. “I’ve seen at least seven guys turn their heads in this direction.” Joel said, sound nonchalant about the situation but his hand placement begs to differ.

“I haven’t seen any.” You retorted.

“That’s ‘cause you’re lyin’ on her stomach, sweetheart.” Joel replied with a deep breath.

You just snickered to yourself and shut your eyes again as you felt the heat of the blazing sun soak into your skin. You were sad about your departure from his haven you and Joel had found yourself's in.

Maybe it was selfish that you didn't want to return home, but vacation Joel made your entire body warm.

Every time he peeled off his shirt to immerse himself in the ocean’s embrace or to lounge by the pool, he revealed his firm muscles rippling beneath his sun-kissed skin, and those swim trunks clung so snugly to his thick thighs, you could practically feel yourself melt.

The sight of his broad, sculpted chest expanding with every breath seemed almost otherworldly, a tantalizing display of masculine strength that rendered you practically useless – your heart would race, and your knees threatened to buckle with desire for him.

Sometimes you wondered how you bagged Joel; he was so perfect – beautiful.

“I’m goin’ for a swim, you wanna join?” Joel spoke up, squeezing the soft flesh of your ass to grasp your attention.

You shivered at the feeling of his oversized hands groping the skin, “Sure.” You smiled, sitting up with him.

The water was cold against your warm skin, you gasped. “It’s cold.” You shivered, crossing your arms over your stomach as goosebumps arose on your skin, stiff nipples peaking through the pink bikini top that clung to your chest.

Joel’s eyes flickered down to them for a moment, his hand coming up to swipe at the left one ever so softly. Your knees quivered. “Come swim, you big baby.” Joel chuckled and you found the switch from him just touching your breast to teasing you about being cold amusing.

You laughed softly, “What?” Joel questioned.

You shook your head, toothy grin evident on your face, “Nothing, gorgeous. You’re just funny.” You patted his back and wondered further into the calm waves, Joel following behind.

When you were both deep enough, you wrapped your legs around his waist and he held you up, hands going around your body. “Will you ever grow out of callin’ me gorgeous?” Joel popped the question within the quiet sounds of crashing waves against your bodies.

You had an amused look on your face as you wagged your head from side to side. “Never.”

Joel just blew out a breath through circle lips and stared at your face with a bit of a squint due to the sun reflecting off the clear water. “Your hair is really pretty like this.” Joel commented, bringing a hand up to tangle into your hair.

"It gets like that in the salt water.”

Joel nodded thoughtfully, “That’s cool.”

“Your hair does it too.”

He looked as if he didn’t believe you, “No. No, it doesn’t.”

You laughed, “It does!” you stressed, bringing your hands up to his head and curling your fingers in his thick, brown locks. “It curls with salt water.” You assured him, tugging on the roots softly and his head lifted with the pull.

He knocked his hooked nose with your nose. “Don’t lie to me.”

“Sarah has curly hair.” You mentioned, bringing up his daughter back in Austin, staying with her uncle, Tommy.

“Yeah, from her mom, obviously.”

You shrugged, “Curly haired family.”

“Thank god you have curly hair otherwise I wouldn’t have asked you out.”

“Didn’t you say you’d still love me even if I had a pot belly?” You recalled, thinking back to your previous nights on the holiday where you had drunkenly asked him if he would still love you if you were a witch with a pot belly and devil horns.

Joel rolled his eyes, “You know what I mean.”

You sighed, the sound dramatic. “I don’t.”

Joel’s hands squeezed your back side, “Quit it.” he murmured, pushing his lips onto yours.

You let out a noise of surprise but melted into the passionate nature of his lips locking with yours, he sucked your bottom lip into his mouth and then shoved his tongue down your throat before recalling it back into his mouth after having licked your molars.

You both pulled away, out of breath.

“Are you trying to kill me?” You heaved, lungs aching.

Joel wheezed, “Just wanna make us suffer.”

You rolled your eyes, catching your breath. “Could’ve drowned me.”

Joel kissed your jaw, “I would save you.”

“I’d sink. I’m heavy.”

“No, you aren’t. I wouldn't even let you go.”

“I’d be picked up by a shark.”

“And I’d fuckin’ fight the shark.”

“That’s sweet." You murmured, closing your eyes, and enjoying the feeling of his lips moving around your neck.

“I would never let anything bad ever happen to you.” He confessed softly.

“I know,” you nodded, his scruff ticking your sensitive skin. “I know I’m safe with you.”

The words made him grip you tighter against himself, his lips pushing themselves back onto yours but this time they were gentler. His pouty lips were puckering against yours, soft moans coming from you as he expertly deepened the kiss.

He tipped you backward softly, you began to unconsciously rock yourself against him. Joel groaned in response to your movement, rocking his body forward as well.

Then, in an instant, you found yourself as well as Joel, being engulfed by relentless downpour of water. Your mouth forcibly torn away from Joel’s, yet your desperate arms remained tightly clenched around his broad frame.

The icy water ferally consumed you, flooding your ears and nostrils, leaving you gasping for air as you resurfaced, your throat constricting with a cough.

"Are you alright?" Joel inquired, his breaths coming in rapid succession, concern etched across his face.

“What the fuck was that?” You brought your hands quickly up to your face to rid your eyes of the hair that tumbled past the line of your eyebrows, allowing you to breath and see better.

“Just a big wave. The winds obviously picking up. A storm comin’.” He cradled you close and you took in the trees swaying and bending as if they were going to break – the weather switching up with a moment’s notice.

“God, someone is trying to kill us.” You huffed out, bringing your hand to your forehead as you stared at Joel with wide eyes.

Joel shook his head, “No one is tryin’ to kill us.” He soothed.

“Someone must have a voodoo doll of me.”

“I doubt it,” Joel pressed a comforting kiss to your cheek. “Let’s go back.” He said to you, walking through the water still holding you, before letting you stand once you reached the shore.

The sky hung heavy with ominous, slate-gray clouds, casting a somber and foreboding atmosphere over the landscape. Joel and you collected your scattered items and held one another’s hands as you made your way back to your hotel room.

Once entering the luxurious room, covered in all your clothes, Joel shut the door behind him and was immediately spinning you around and pressing your lips back onto his.

"Joel," you said, words muffled. "What are you doing?" you laughed softly at his desperate nature.

He clawed at your bikini top. "I-I just want it of...all off." He huffed out, teeth nibbling on your bottom lip as he finally removed your bikini top.

His warm, calloused hands placed themselves on the cold skin, your nipples hardening instantly. You gasped into the kiss, feeling him walk the two of you back toward the edge of the bed.

He gently pushed you down onto the warm, white sheets, your bare chest on display for him as he stood before you in all his glory.

Joel looked as if he were made of marble, soft and delicate stomach, hair below his belly button drawing your eyes to the tent within his bright blue swim trunks.

He eventually removed his trunks, half-hard cock on display. You were sitting upward quickly, hands coming out to grasp his length, feeling it fully harden within your grasp.

Once at its peak, your fingers could barely reach around the entire length. His fat, mushroom head drooling with pre-cum as it stared you square in the face.

"Well, what are you waitin' for? An invitation?" your eyes flickered up to Joel's, seeing his smirk. "Go on, kiss it." He encouraged, bringing on of his big hands up to cradle the back of your head as you leaned forward, kissing the tip of his cock.

He hissed, thighs twitching forward at the contact with your lips. You opened your mouth, allowing the heavy weight of his length to settle on your tongue.

You closed your lips around him once you took about half his huge cock inside your mouth and sucked, bobbing your head back and forth with the guidance of his hand.

"Fuck," he panted, moving his hips forward to fuck your face. You felt the tip of his cock punch the back of your throat and more saliva drool around the corner of your lips. You tried to relax your gag reflex, closing your eyes as you felt tears stream down your face and drool on the line of your jaw. "Your mouth...oh fuck." You opened your eyes as he whined, throwing his head back to reveal his Adams apple to you.

Joel then quickly pulled out of you, stepping backward. "W-What?" you questioned, voice horse and slobber clinging to your chin. You brought the back of your hand toward your chin to wipe the mess off your face.

"Just gimme a second," he grumbled, pacing. "Nearly fuckin' came down your throat."

Your eyes widened and eyebrows shot up with disbelief, "Really? That quick?" you asked, voice high as you felt a grin over take your features.

Joel flushed a deep red color. "Shut up." Joel mumbled, his eyes flickering down to your naked chest for a moment before he stared up at the cream colored ceiling above the two of you.

You stood up after a few moments of silence, removing your bikini bottom, he then allowed his eyes to rake over you. "Come get me cowboy!" you teased, throwing on your best Texan accent.

Joel rolled his eyes, stepping back toward you. His hands fell on your hips as his nose bumped against yours. You placed your hands on his warm chest, feeling the soft hairs beneath your fingers prickle at the delicate skin. "Don't mock me."

He pressed his lips softly onto yours, the urgency from before gone now as he was still so sensitive. "Just get me off while you wait." You whimpered into his mouth, settling back onto the sheets - this time in the middle of the bed.

Joel mumbled an agreement, pecking your lips before smothering the entire length of your body in kisses before he got to your pussy.

He pushed your legs apart, throwing them over your shoulders before wasting no time and shoving his tongue inside your dripping hole.

You moaned out immediately, hands coming up to tangle into his soft, curly locks. "Fuck," you whimpered, looking down to see him staring up at you as his tongue moved to draw circles over your clit. "Joel."

You could feel him smiling against your core, licking broad stripes up and down as he tasted you. "You always taste so fucking good." He mumbled, placing his tongue back on your clit and swiping his tongue from side to side.

You thighs quivered against his broad shoulders, your mouth dropping open into a silent scream at the feeling of him sensually eating you out.

Your clit was then pulled into his mouth and sucked, "Oh my god," You cried, hips rocking against his mouth as your orgasm washed over you, stars appearing within your vision.

He continued to lick until you were twitching, the feeling borderline painful as he sucked on your clit again. "O-Okay...okay." You half laughed, half sobbed as tears of pleasure and pain were pricking at your eyes.

Joel chuckled, pressing a kiss to your left inner thigh before hovering above you once more - his face covered in your slick, even the tip of his nose.

"God, you really went to town." You joked, licking the tip of his nose and tasting yourself on his tongue.

Joel smiled, softly. "Always go to town on you." He whispered, bringing his wet mouth back down onto yours.

You smiled into the kiss, hands coming up to grasp at his back, feeling the indents around the skin. "Fuck me now, please.” You said, hooking your ankles around his lower back to try and push him forward.

"Needy." He whispered, aligning himself with your dripping entrance, willing and waiting.

"Shut the fuck u-oh Jesus fucking Christ," You moaned when the fat head of his cock slipped into your drooling cunt. You grasped him tightly, his cheek pressed against yours. "Oh fuck me." You loudly whined.

Joel let out a few whimpers and groans as he bottomed out, your cunt was clenching around his thick girth. "I-okay-waitwaitwait-gimmie a second," he huffed, sounding as if he had just run a marathon. He was twitching and pulsing deep inside of you, pressing against that spongy spot. "Okay...fuuuck."

He rubbed the side of his face against yours as he tried to regain composure, the scruff tickling your cheek. You cradled the back of his head with one hand while the other grasped his bicep, his skin warm beneath your touch.

He began moving, arms coming to grip around your form and keep you close. "Yesyesyes," Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, his strokes hard, fast and pressed exactly where you wanted them. "Just like that."

Joel moved his head to stare at your face, "Like how, pretty girl?" he whispered, adjusting so he was on his knees and your legs were over his shoulders. He was practically folding you into a pretzel at his angle but it made his thrusts deeper, a constant knock, knock, knock, against your cervix. "Like that huh?"

You nodded, feeling cock drunk as tears rolled down your face from pleasure. You couldn't even speak, could only blabber mixed up words. Despite keeping his pace smooth, Joel also happened to be mumbling his own muddled up words.

He was louder than you were, his grunts and moans coming from deep within in his chest. You loved it when he was loud, it let you know he was enjoying himself as much as you were.

"God." You slurred, drool spilling past your lips.

Joel had an opened mouth smirk on his face as sweat rolled down his exposed forehead, his hair wet. "It's Joel, but close."

You couldn't even reply anything sassy as he brought his hand down to rub between your legs. Your clit throbbing with sensitivity from the overstimulation from before and the ruthless pound of his cock, balls slapping against the curve of your ass.

"J-Joel, I'm-I'm gonna c-come." you said with a gasp, holding his hand that was holding your calf.

Joel nodded, moving your legs to wrap around his back as he fell back down toward you, his elbows holding him up. "Come." He said, voice rough and full of power above you as he smashed your lips into his.

His hands cradled the sides of your head as his tongue dipped into his mouth. Your moans were muffled by the caress of his tongue, legs shaking around his body as you felt your pussy squeeze his length and you felt liquid gushing out of you and around his cock.

Your nails were digging into the soft skin of his back, deep crescent moon shapes marking his tanned skin.

He followed soon after you. "Fuck, I love this fuckin' cunt. You're so fuckin' pretty, I can't." He shook his head, his sweat dripping onto your forehead as his rested against yours.

His eyes squeezed tight shut as he came, hips stuttering against yours. He was breathing through his teeth, mumbling seven fuck's, three shit's, and one god damn, one fuckin' day this fuckin’ cunt is gonna kill me.

You laughed at his words, feeling his come settle deep inside you. The warmth was welcomed as you suddenly felt the brush of cool air from the air conditioner above the two of you.

"I don't ever wanna leave," Joel said, voice husky. "I can't fuck you like this at home." He kissed your lips sweetly.

You cradled his cheek with your hand. "Just gotta be real quiet them." You whispered, tilting your chin upward and biting his bottom lip.

Joel groaned and you felt his softening cock twitch inside of you. "You're gonna make me hard again." He warned.

You shrugged, "What's the harm in that?" you looked at him innocently pouting your lips and fluttering your eyelashes.

Joel smirked, pressing a kiss onto your pouted lips. "You're too fuckin' pretty."

You felt a hot flush take over your body, your fucked out pussy clenching around his length. "Stop it." You said, feeling shy at his praises.

Your hand came up to cover your reddening face and Joel laughed, "Are you blushin'?" he asked, the smile evident in his voice.

You laughed as well, moving your hand to cover the sounds coming from your mouth. Joel's fingers caressed your face, tracing patterns against the soft skin.

Your hand fell off your face at his comforting touch. "I love you." You whispered, watching his face light up as you said it, even though he's heard you say it a million times before.

Joel's eyes crinkled around the corners, his nose scrunching as he fell into your mouth. One long, deep, and meaningful kiss was shared between the two of you before he pulled back up. "I never get tired of hearin' that," he admitted, shrugged softly. "I love you too."

You grinned in response, hands grasping at his jaw before pressing your lips back together once more.

You adored being in the presence of someone who made your skin feel as if it were permanently glowing. Treating you as if you had hung the moon and the stars for him, the centre of his universe - his sun

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller

[justmediocrewriting]

“BEACH DAZE,” {v.s}

A/n: I owe so many thanks to @heartfully10 for this beautiful idea. Madam, please, feed me moar!! I read your idea and my brain fucking zoomed I tell you, it zoomed!!! I need more inspos like that <3

Summary: you were a fool to think the day couldn’t get any more perfect, because of course your handsome chef would make sure it did

Genre: fluff with spice

Pairing: Sanji x fem!reader

Requested: ❌ (suggested, requests are open!)

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings/tags: some spicy themes, massages, established relationship, mixer!sanji, the man’s a chef of course the dude can mix drinks too, flirting, just two people being madly in love on the beach, crew bonding, whipped!sanji, whipped!reader, sensual application of sunscreen, teasing, fluff, it’s just really lovey y’all (and a bit more spicy than I originally intended)

{{:================================:}}

The sun’s harsh glare was tapered by the shadow casted by the umbrella above you, its warm rays only able to caress the skin of your ankles to your toes. Pounding feet over shifting sand, lapping waves, loud splashes, the squeals and laughter of children and adults alike, and the cries of gulls harmonized together to create a symphony that bled nostalgia from your heart — you missed this.

Your eyes had slipped closed some time ago, the warm, lively atmosphere of the beach settling deep into your bones and relaxing you from within, so the arrival of another person in front of you was only detectable by the sudden coolness their shadow offered your toes.

“You seem pretty comfortable there, sweetheart.”

A smile found its way to your face immediately, the smooth timbre of that voice slithering into your ears pleasantly and melting your already sun-baked brain. With a simple flutter of your eyes you were greeted with one of the best sights of your life; clad in only patterned swim shorts and skin glistening with a sheen of perspiration, one hand casting a shadow over his blue eyes and the other holding a sweating glass of something, stood Sanji. Your skin heated ever so slightly and your gut stirred, but you pushed away the sensations and merely patted the space beside you.

“Towel is big enough for two, if you're curious to see how comfortable it is.” You teased silkily, and Sanji’s lips immediately pulled into a smirk. Further prompting was unnecessary, the blond man sinking down almost immediately beside you without a word. You eyed the glass in his hand, curiosity brimming at the oddly brightly colored liquid within.

“What’s that?” You asked, propping yourself up to rest your weight on your elbows and procure a better look at the drink. Sanji glanced down at the drink before shooting you a dazzling smile.

“It’s a drink I made. I call it ‘Little South Blue’.”

“The name fits.” You murmured, eyes taking in the ombré blue of the liquid, neon bright at the top and abyssal black towards the bottom. Flicking your eyes back up to meet Sanji’s, you asked, “what was your inspiration?”

“Have a taste first, love, and see if you can guess.” Sanji tutted, bringing the rim of the glass to your lips. You opened willingly, maintaining eye contact with him as the liquid slowly coated your tongue. Despite its blue color, it carried a heady citrus taste, not tangy enough to be off-putting but just enough to leave a bit of an aftertaste. There were sweet undertones in the current, too, something reminiscent of vanilla buttercream. All in all, it was a perfect blend of flavors, with none overshadowing the next, or standing out blatantly in a way that made the drink hard to swallow.

Once you swallowed down the generous amount Sanji had given you he pulled the rim from your mouth, eyebrows raised and lips quirked in a challenge. You licked the remainder of liquid from your lips, the action of which Sanji immediately zeroed in on, the look in his eyes fanning the ever-glowing embers of desire in your gut, and you pretended to consider.

“It’s sweet, with a citrus aftertaste… rather fruity, if you ask me. Which leads me to believe your inspiration was…” you trailed off, furrowing your delicate brows and jutting your lower lip out ever so slightly in that pout you knew drove Sanji crazy and got you anything you wanted out of the chef, and then sighed deeply.

“Nami.” You deadpanned, amusement zipping through your chest at the look of pure disbelief that overcame Sanji’s features — it was like watching sunlight glisten off of a rainbow trout’s scales, the colors shifting with such speed that the human eye couldn’t dare to identify where or when the shift started or ended.

“I’m speechless, love,” Sanji jested, scooting his body closer to yours and placing a large hand atop your plush thigh. “That you would assume I could even think of another woman when I have all of this right in front of me, any time I want it.” Sanji ended this statement with a firm, yet gentle squeeze of your thigh, sending various feelings and thoughts rushing to the forefront of your mind — memories of similar touches in the dark, picking you apart molecule by molecule and then gluing you back together again, simultaneously.

You sucked in a sharp breath and pushed your thighs together, the habitual movement not escaping Sanji’s watchful eye, and he smirked, skimming his fingers along your flesh. Your skin pimpled despite the heat of the day, and those embers once more flared hotter — gods, how you wanted him right now.

It was dizzying how quickly Sanji was able to alter your moods — with one well placed sentence or touch, Sanji could turn you into a dripping puddle of want, no matter what emotion you could have been feeling at the time, nor the strength of it. It was the same story for every emotion, the man able to influence them so easily, as if they were attached to strings and he were the puppet master pulling them.

And, to be frank, you loved it.

You looked down to Sanji’s hand on your thigh, bringing your own hand up to run your fingers over the bumps of his knuckles. Glancing up at him through your eyelashes, you dropped your voice to a low murmur, the volume prompting Sanji to lean in towards you to hear your words.

“You shouldn’t tease me unless you plan on seeing it through.”

Sanji’s eyes widened fractionally before they clouded with barely-contained interest, orbs darting down to trace the shape of your lips. You mirrored his actions, eyes falling to his lips, electricity skirting along the flesh of your own as you imagined pressing them to Sanji’s. Their dance would be fluid and familiar, as always, consumed by the ever-present hunger you held for one another.

“This is a public beach. Get a room.”

The sudden onslaught of words sliced through the tension swirling around you, and you whipped your body around to face the source; you inadvertently knocked your elbow into Sanji’s arm, dislodging his hand from your thigh and upsetting his balance slightly. You snapped your eyes up to meet the face of Zoro, who wore an expression of mixed discomfort and amusement.

You couldn’t help but flush slightly. You’d been so wrapped up in Sanji that you’d completely lost awareness to your surroundings. That wasn’t much of a surprise, if you were being honest. It had happened many a time on the Going Merry, and you just knew it would continue to happen going forward. That was the effect Sanji had on you. You glanced around to see if your little personal moment with Sanji had drawn the attention of anyone else, but thankfully, everyone on the beach were too busy in their own worlds to really pay you any mind.

“Go mind your own business, mosshead. Take a swim, or something. You need a bath anyway.” Sanji retorted back, but the relaxation of the day must have affected Sanji in some way too, for his words lacked their usual heat. Zoro rolled his eyes but stalked away regardless; Sanji focused his attention on you once more, but Zoro’s appearance had bursted that bubble of intimacy around the two of you, and you couldn’t find a way to work up the same level of desire you had felt just seconds prior. You gave Sanji a morose smile, and the message was conveyed clearly to the man, who simply shook his head with a smile on his face.

No worries.

Despite no longer feeling the urge to clamber into Sanji’s lap and ride him til the sun set, you still felt the need to be physically close to him, so you once again closed the distance between the two of you. Your thighs and sides were bow flush against one another, and you looked out across the span of the beach and rested your head on his shoulder. Sanji responded by wrapping an arm around your waist and placing his chin atop your head. A perfect embrace, one that had your chest feeling light and fluttery.

“This reminds me of home, you know.” You said suddenly, blurting out the same thought you’d had since the Going Merry had docked on the island. Sanji hummed and fiddled with the knot on the side of your swimsuit bottoms.

“You mean back in the South Blue?”

You nodded mutely, lips pulling into a smile as waves of nostalgia crashed over you. “Mhmm. Many islands in the South Blue are a lot like this one; hot, sunny and sandy. Coconut trees as far as the eye can see and enough tiki bars that even Zoro couldn’t drink an island dry.”

Sanji chuckled at your analogy and released his hold on the knot, now tracing shapes into the skin of your hip with his fingertips. Pleasant pimples dotted across your skin from the sensation.

“Was your island like this one?” Sanji asked, using his free hand to bring his drink, Little South Blue, to his lips. You could feel the undulation of his jawline and throat as he swallowed.

You shifted your body closer to his, crossing your right ankle over his left and digging your foot between his. The heat was near scorching, and the proximity of your bodies wasn’t helping, but it felt too nice to not link your skin in some way.

“Somewhat. There’s a lot of activities that I’ve noticed are exclusive to the South Blue — surfing, beach volleyball, free diving. But there’s a couple here that I recognize from my island. The tiki bars, for example, and the sunbathing.”

You pointed to a group of women to the left, splayed out on large beach towels and soaking up the sun’s rays like hungry plants. Sanji made a strange sound, a mixture between a grunt and a chuckle, and before you could question its origins he said,

“Won’t they just burn? It doesn’t even look like they’re wearing sun screen.”

You narrowed your eyes and looked closer at the women; it was hard to discern from the distance, but you could just barely notice the lack of the tell-tale shine of sunscreen. You hummed deep in your throat.

“They probably forgot to reapply it. It does dry up, eventually.”

“Did you put some on?” Sanji asked, palm flattening around your hip and rubbing, as if he were trying to feel the slick oil on your skin. You burrowed your side deeper into his and reached across his lap to pluck the drink from his hand. Sanji unhooked his chin from your head so that you could pull a drink from the rim. That sweet vanilla-citrus bloomed over your tongue again, and you found yourself quite liking the taste.

“I rubbed some in earlier. It’s not too big of a deal for me, since I’m in the shade. This is actually pretty good, by the way.” You took another slow, purposeful drink, letting the liquid linger in your tongue for a few moments before swallowing.

Sanji clicked his tongue, and his other hand, now freed of its previous burden, slid over to connect to your thigh once more. He stroked the plush flesh with his thumb as he rumbled, “of course it’s good. Its creation was inspired by the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

You looked up at Sanji with wide, doe-y eyes, voice sickly sweet as you teased, “awww, that’s going to flatter Nami to the moon!”

Sanji rolled his eyes and pursed his lips, though you could see no real agitation in his expression when he reached forward and slipped the drink from your hand. With a light smack to your thigh Sanji ordered, “alright, that’s enough. Lay on your stomach.”

“What?” You said smartly, amusement flattening quickly to confusion.

“On your stomach. You said it’s been a while since you’ve put on any sunscreen, and there is no way I’m going to let the sun do any damage to your beautiful skin.”

You raised a brow and pointed up at the umbrella. “I’m under the shade.”

“I’m not taking any chances. Now lay down and tell me where the sunscreen is.” Sanji huffed, and you rolled your eyes but complied, rearranging yourself to spread out on your stomach. Sanji’s skilled hands rubbing sunscreen into your skin actually didn’t sound half bad.

“It’s in my bag.” You said softly, crossing your arms in front of you and resting your chin atop them.

Sanji shuffled through your bag for a few seconds before grasping and pulling out the circular container of your sunscreen. Sanji unscrewed the lid and placed the container gently near the side of your head, its strong vanilla fragrance quickly rushing into your nostrils.

Vanilla…

Sanji shuffled beside you then stood, placing either foot on each side of your legs before squatting down to cage your calves beneath his thighs; Sanji made sure to put most of the pressure and body weight onto the backs of his own feet so that he didn’t squash your legs, a rather gentle and endearing consideration of his. Silver glinted in your periphery as Sanji dipped his fingers into the container and scooped out a generous amount — a lot more than you’d personally use, but you didn’t utter an objection to it — and anticipation spiked in your gut when you heard the unmistakable sound of Sanji slathering his hands in the substance.

The first stroke across your shoulder blades had you sighing into the warm air, but when Sanji used his palms to smear in the sunscreen you were helpless to the sounds your lips released. Sanji put a gentle pressure into his hands, sliding his palms up and down your back — all the way from the tips of your shoulder blades to the dip of your lower back and back again — repetitive and slow, and your muscles were quickly turning to putty beneath his attention.

Sanji took immediate notice of this, and his intentions of applying sunscreen morphed into a delicate massage, splaying his thumbs so that they gently dug into the muscles close to your spine with every drag along the length of your back.

“You’re tense, love. How long has that been going on?” Sanji asked in a murmur, leaning his body over yours so that he could speak inches from your ear. The combination of sensations had your gut stirring, his deft hands turning your body to putty and his rumbling timbre doing the same to your brain.

“A little bit.” You answered breathily, eyes slipping closed as you allowed yourself to feel — to feel Sanji’s subtle weight against your legs, his hands on your skin, the breeze in the air, and the soft sand beneath the towel — it was a combination that made your chest feel floaty and full, the beach drawing out homesick nostalgia and Sanji’s presence supplying a different sense of home. A sense of home that you only felt with Sanji.

“You should have told me sooner, darling. I’d have been more than happy to massage you.” Sanji gently chastised, and in your dopey state, all you could do was hum in response. Sanji’s hands slipped up to your shoulder blades, his thumbs digging into the meatier sections with a gently firmness, and electricity exploded within your body — you could feel the tension melting out of your muscles, and it felt so good. Sanji repeated this action along the entirety of your back, rubbing and soothing out every kink in the muscles with hands that bordered on sinful.

“I’m sure you probably knew from the start, but Little South Blue’s creation was inspired by you.” Sanji wisped, hands never slowing or stopping their movements. “I’d read in a book long ago that citrus fruits were very common in the South Blue, and that they were the staple ingredient of all kinds of foods and drinks.”

You peeked open an eye just in time to see Sanji dipping his fingers back into the container of sunscreen before returning to your back — now his hands moved up further, grinding pleasantly into the muscle of your nape.

“Vanilla is your favorite scent, and you especially like the taste when it’s used in buttercream.”

Your heart constricted in your chest, adoration flaring strong and consuming. You remembered the vanilla-y undercurrent in the mouthfuls you’d swallowed previously, along with the tangy citrus.

“I decided to combine them in a base of your favorite alcohol; sweet rum. Then I named it after your home sea, so that you could have a little piece of it when we leave here.”

Your heart felt as if it would implode out of your chest; time and time again, Sanji was able to exceed any and all expectations with his generosity and romantic soul, but this felt like it was on another level — one that you were finding difficult to process at the moment. Sanji’s hands felt heavenly on your body, but if you didn’t get your lips on his this instant you were going to combust.

With Sanji essentially weightless on top of you, it was easy to roll onto your back quickly. The movement startled Sanji and he retracted his hands, still lathered in the sun screen, and you slipped your legs from underneath him and sat up on your knees. Grasping both sides of his handsome face you leaned in quickly, connecting your lips to his. As always, the contact sent ripples of electricity through your entire body, and when Sanji’s lips quickly responded by initiating a dance with yours, the chilled embers in your gut roared into an inferno.

You slid your tongue along his bottom lip, phantom traces of vanilla-citrus rewarding your movement, and you groaned against Sanji’s lips, which parted for you quickly. The beach and everything else faded into the background as you slipped your tongue against his, coaxing it into the same familiar dance you’d rehearsed time and time again. The flavor was even heavier on his tongue, and when understanding the very reason behind every ingredient, it tasted like pure heaven, enhancing the natural taste of Sanji that you’d come to love and crave.

You only pulled away when you found yourself getting a bit dizzy from lack of proper oxygen, and by that time you had subconsciously scrambled into Sanji’s lap and had your hands wrapped around the nape of his neck, fingers tangled in the blond strands at the base of his skull. Sanji’s pupils were blown and his eyes were hazy, a subtle hardness pushing into the flesh of your thigh, and you licked your lips.

“You taste a lot more like home than some drink, Sanji.”

Sanji smiled at you in a breathless daze, but the perfect, sensual moment was ruined by one phrase uttered with distaste from behind you,

“Seriously, get a room.”

{{:================================:}}

2 posts in under 24 hours??? I’m on a roll lmao. I just wanted to send a quick thank you to everyone who has sent in requests/suggestions. You guys really helped bring me inspiration and I appreciate it so much!! If you guys enjoyed this please consider liking/reblogging/commenting. Love you all and thanks for reading!

#opla #opla sanji #one piece #opla x reader #one piece live action #opla sanji x reader

[faithshouseofchaos]

The gala— Toto Wolff x Ferrari team principal!Reader

Tagged— @reidsworld @toasttt11 @wolfsbanesbite @moss-on-tmblr @norrisleclercf1 @hollie911 @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @charlesf1leclerc @darleneslane @harmonity-vibes @astraeaworld @omgsuperstarg @otako5811 @alwayzbeenale @ladymarvel27 @badassturtle13 @sarahedwards16

You and Toto had a will they won’t they relationship one moment everyone thought you’d get together and the next thing they knew you both were saying you were just friends.

You were lying to yourself, you knew that. Steiner often called it mindlessly boring and soul sucking and everyone agreed with him. Even your very own two drivers who often offered to put in a good word for you with Toto and you always declined.

Getting ready for the FAI Gala you decided to go with the classic Ferrari red look. After getting ready your driver Charles who was like a son to you knocked on your hotel room door. Answering it he greeted you with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“You look beautiful Miss.y/l/n is this for Toto?” Charles asked with a mischievous expression and a wink.

You blushed at the thought of Toto. But the look on Charles' face told you he was planning something “ok Charles what are you planning?” You asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Whatever do you mean?”

“I’ve known you long enough to know that you’re a scheming”

“I’m not planning or scheming anything I promise”

“Uh huh let’s go then I don’t wanna be late”

Once you and Charles arrived at the gala you both went your separate ways mingling about. Walking to the bar to get another drink a man came up to you and began talking about how good you look in your dress.

Entertaining the man you decided to flirt back with, him occasionally looking around the room when your eyes landed on his.

Toto was paying any attention to what anyone was saying to him. He was too focused on you and the man flirting with you. A burning pit of jealousy formed in his stomach as he watched your head tip back slightly laughing at whatever the man said. You touched the man on this arm and bit your lip with a small smile. Once your eyes met from across the room Toto excused himself and made his way over to you. He couldn’t go on like this anymore he needed you.

Pulling out his phone he sent you a text

It reads:

Ich liebe dich.

I’ll be there soon. I need to let him know that you belong only to me.

Kuss

Toto

Pulling your phone out of your clutch purse you looked at your phone reading the message.

Fucking finally you thought this had been going on for years now the sexual tension and the dancing around one another it was about time before one of you caved.

You stand next to the guy who has been flirting you up all night. Toto gets there before you can say bye to the guy. Toto pulls you close to him whispering to you, you are Mine now.

He glares at the other guy before kissing the side of your neck while pulling you close and hugging you.

Toto wraps his arms around you and squeezes you tightly into him. Your body pressed up against him, you don’t want him to ever have to let you go. You look up from his chest, the smell of his cologne clinging to him is intoxicating. Toto notices you looking up, he stares down into your eyes. He says to you, “This moment…this moment was worth all the waiting for my love.”

“It was about time, honestly it was only a matter of time before you caved”

“I know…But I had to make you wait. I wanted you to chase me for a bit, I wanted you to desire me like I desired you before I could finally make this moment happen.”

The way he said it made your knees weak, the moment was everything you could ever want. You knew you had to kiss him, you didn’t want to let this moment ever end.

You lean into the kiss, his tongue slips past your lips, caressing your tongue before he pulls you as close as physically possible. You can hear his heartbeat, you take comfort in knowing you are the only person to make this man’s heart race like this. You look over his shoulder and see the other guy staring on with jealousy.

“Let’s get out of here please”

You look up at Toto, his eyes are dark and lustful. He wraps his arms around you hugging you tightly again before whispering, “Of course my love, anywhere you wish to go.” He leans in and gives you another long kiss, he pulls you with him as he leads you towards the exit.

Once you get to the car Toto pushes you up against it. His lips against yours, “I want to show you what you have missed for all these years, what all this waiting and chasing has been for.” You smile against his lips, the moment feels perfect, he makes you feel perfect.

The moment lasts for hours, your bodies entwined against the car. Your eyes close, Toto’s lips against yours, his hands running up and down your body. Toto whispers to you, “This moment, it was worth it. It was all worth it.” He looks down into your eyes and kisses you slowly and tenderly, your heart is pounding against your chest with every kiss.

Toto pulls away from you, you both look up at each other, the light making Toto’s eyes glimmer. He smiles before picking you up, “I am taking you home, I have more to show you.”

“Oh?” You ask, your voice coming out breathy. You look up at Toto with a flirtatious grin. Toto smiles, “Yes my love, more to show you…More to do.”

——————————-

The next morning when you woke up you sent Charles a text.

You— next time you’re scheming don’t send your friend Joris to do your dirty work Charles

Charles— so it worked?

#toto wolff x reader #toto wolff #toto wolff x you #toto wolff x oc #toto wolff x y/n #toto wolff imagine #toto wolff fanfic #toto wolff fluff

[charliehoennam]

from cramps to comfort

a/n: my bestie @harmonity-vibes has been having a bit of a tough day and i just wanted to make something nice for her. luv u, hon 💗

pairing: tommy cahill x f!reader

summary: you're on your period, everything sucks so tommy makes it his mission to help you feel better

warnings: mentions of blood, period, fluff, language, not proof-read

Getting off of work is the only thing you've been looking forward to the entire day. All you can think about is getting home and stewing yourself in a nice, hot bath to relief the aching cramps you’ve been feeling.

The day started off terribly wrong right off the bat. You had felt the cramps settling in the previous day and you even set a pad to try and prevent any accidents, but that was a total failure.

You woke up to the large red stain on your bedsheets and you just knew it was going to be one of those days.

As if the staining paranoia and the gut-twisting cramps weren’t enough to make you constantly uncomfortable, you also struggled to deal with your stupid fucking hormones.

Everything and everyone have been annoying or frustrating you for the past couple days. You hate that you feel like ripping everyone’s heads off and having their spleen for dessert. It’s not their fault; you’ve even managed to piss yourself off to the brink of tears. You just can’t help it.

You had no choice, but to brace yourself for the day. You thought about calling in sick, but you figured you could suck it up and face the day. It’d be over quickly and there was so much that you had to do.

After a hot shower to clean yourself up, you got dressed and took your phone from its charger by your nightstand in your rush to catch up with the clock.

Seeing Tommy’s name on the screen almost makes you forget about the pain.

“Morning, beautiful 🥰 Feeling better? Hoped we could have dinner together tonight?”

You read his message, but you have no time to write back. You’re running late thanks to your alarm and mother nature, so you scramble through your apartment to grab everything you could need.

The minute you lock your door, your phone starts buzzing. You lift it up to see who’s calling you and see your boyfriend’s face smiling back at you.

“Hey, Tommy”

“Morning, baby. You missed your alarm again?”

“Yeah, I think I forgot to set it last night. I really passed out, I was so tired.”

He can hear your footsteps going down the stairs as you make your way to the front entrance.

“Are you feeling any better though? You said you were feeling icky yesterday.”

“And now I know why. I got my period.”

“Oh, damn. I’m sorry, baby.”

“It’s not your fault, babe. Just Mother Nature being a bitch.”

“Is there anything I can d-“

“Fucking son of a bitch” you grumble as you push the stuck door to open. “Door never works. Sorry, babe. What did you say?”

“I asked if there’s anything I can do?”

“No, Tommy” you say holding your phone between your shoulder and your ear as you fish for your bus pass in your bag. “Fuck!” you groan. “Why can’t anything go right today?”

“What happened?”

“I gotta go back for my stupid fucking bus pass. I forgot it at home.”

“Baby, lemme give you a ride. I’m just a couple blocks over anyways.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be going to work? I don’t wanna make you late.”

“You won’t be, alright? Just wait there and I’ll pick you up, ok?”

“Alright, Tommy. Thank you so much.”

“See you in ten minutes, babe.”

You hang up and sit on the curb to wait for your boyfriend. The cold air tightens your muscles and you’re reminded of the pain in your core. You took medicine in your morning rush, but apparently, it wasn’t enough to numb it out entirely.

You sit and wait with your head tucked down over your arms. You’re so ready for the day to end.

Tommy soon arrives to pick you up as promised, but the wide grin on his face quickly disappears when he realizes how shitty you’re actually feeling.

It breaks his heart to see you in pain and feeling down in the dumps. He’s got a natural instinct for making people laugh and feel good. Not being able to do even that makes him feel useless.

It reminds him of the mental breakdown his brother went through years ago. Although he's gotten better and was able to return to his family a recovered man, depression hits him from time to time when he remembers what he had to endure.

Tommy never fails to cheer him up and remind him that he's a survivor. He might not be a doctor, but he does whatever he can to remind his loved ones that they are loved.

He listens to you vent on route to your workplace, making encouraging remarks when you mention your driving test is today during your lunch break. Tommy does his best to lift your spirits and reminds you of how well you’ve done during his lessons.

He’d been teaching you for the past couple weeks and, although he says you’ve improved a lot, you’re still nervous about the test because the instructor you were paired up with wasn’t exactly the friendliest of folks. It also didn’t help that Tommy is your boyfriend; he could be a little biased.

As you arrive at work, you thank him for the ride and kiss him good-bye. The hand he sets on your cheek makes you want to cancel the entire day just to be with him.

“Hey… All you gotta do is try the best you can today. And if it doesn’t go well, there’s always a tomorrow.”

His gentle voice chases your worries away.

“I know, baby. Thank you. Wish me luck?”

“All the luck in the world, sweetheart. Lemme know how it goes?”

“I will,” he pecks you once more before you climb out of his truck.

“Dinner at your place or mine?” he questions rolling the window down.

“Uhm, mine? Is that ok?”

“Fine by me, beautiful. Have a nice day. Love you!”

“Love you too” you chuckle and step back to let him roll the window back up. Tommy waits until you’re safely in the building to drive away.

Despite your best efforts, the day does not go as well as you had hoped.

The driving test was a total dud. Your instructor was a grade-A asshole. Your boss is riding you over some stupid report he managed to lose and accused you of not handing it in. Your insides feel like knives are churning in your walls. The headache you already took a second dose of painkillers after lunch still persists.

You can’t stop watching the clock and it seem that, as it gets closer to clock-out, time seems to go by even slower.

While you wither away at work, Tommy heads to the local drugstore. Standing the middle of the aisle, he stares at the vast variety of pads and tampons with a store basket in hand.

"What the f-" he whispers to himself as his eyes roam around in confusion. "Why does there have to be so many?"

His brows furrow like he's trying to build a spaceship. He picks one up to read the packaging. It might as well be in a foreign language because nothing makes sense to him.

He has no idea what difference between a pantyliner and overnight pad is. He doesn't understand why the tampons come in sizes.

Desperately confused, he whips his phone to dial his brother's number.

"Sam, hey! You got a minute?"

"Yeah. What's up?"

"I'm trying to get some lady shit for my girlfriend, but I don't understand any of this stuff."

"Yeah, I've been there before."

"Like how do i know what her size is? Is it like the size of her lady bits?"

"No," Sam chuckles. "It's according to her flow."

"How the fuck do i know that?"

"Just get the medium tampons when in doubt. And I'd suggest taking overnight pads. Some girls don't like sleeping with tampons."

"Alright. What are wings though? Should I get them with or without the wings?"

"They're like parts that open up and stick to the underwear, so it doesn't keep moving around. I always get the ones with wings."

Tommy nods and places the phone to hold with his shoulder as he grabs the products from the shelves and sets them in the basket.

"You should probably take some Pamprin too. Midol doesn't work for every girl."

"What the fuck is that?" he frowns.

"Medicine for cramps, Tommy. And my tip? When you're in her bathroom, take pictures of the brands she uses so you don't forget."

"Fuck, I didn't think of that. I gotta do that. Thanks, man."

With 5 minutes left of the extra hours you had to put in due to the driving test, you gather your things and head to the bathroom for a quick tampon change before starting your journey home on the bus.

You haphazardly wrap your scarf around your neck and hook your jacket on to finally make your long-awaited exit, thankfully the day is done.

The door flies open as you eagerly walk outside, but you freeze in your stride as you see Tommy standing in the parking lot, stood against his truck smoking a cigarette as he waits for you in the blistering cold.

He grins watching your face light up at the surprise.

“How long have you been waiting out here?”

“Not too long,” he lies. He’s freezing his balls off, but he doesn’t want to make you feel bad about it, especially since the intention was to surprise you. “I thought you could use a ride.”

“I most definitely can,” you nod walking towards him as he stomps his cigarette out.

He flashes a dopey smile as he cranes his head to kiss you hello. He tastes like smoke, but you don’t mind it. You’re just happy to see him and to feel his prickly beard on your skin.

“Got a couple things for you,” he smirks down at you.

“Oh? Like what?”

“You gotta get home and see,” he chuckles slyly.

You and Tommy had given each other a copy of your home keys as a special milestone in your relationship. It was a major step for him. His time in prison taught him to appreciate his freedom and personal space more, so allowing you to come and go freely meant he trusts you beyond comprehension.

“Just tell me there’s food. I really don’t wanna cook tonight.”

“There’s food, baby. I promise,” he smirks opening the passenger door to help you climb inside.

After a short straight drive home, you head up to your apartment and gasp as you walk inside.

On the table, you find a beautiful bouquet of flowers set in a pretty vase. That wasn’t there before. On the breakfast bar, you see you a box of pizza along with your favorite chips and chocolates all arranged neatly.

“There’s your favorite Ben & Jerry’s in the freezer too. And,” he pauses to walk over to the kitchen, grabbing a plastic bag off the counter. “I wasn’t sure what products you like better. I don't really understand this stuff but I got you medium tampons, night pads, Pamprin and some fuzzy socks,” he grins proudly. “I just thought they were cute.”

You laugh as you walk over to hug him, tears prickling at your eyes.

“Baby, this is so thoughtful. Thank you so much.”

 “Are you crying?” he asks worriedly.

“Yeah, but to be fair, I’ve cried like three time today already. It’s beyond my control. I’m just so tired and in pain all the time.”

“Aw, baby. I’m sorry. That’s gotta be tough. Is there anything else I can do? I-I can run you a bath? Hot water helps, right?” You nod in agreement.

The bubble bath you soak in melts your pain away. It could just be the medicine working, but the warmth of the water provides the relief you’ve been seeking the whole day.

Looking over at the feminine products on the bathroom sink counter, you smile to yourself wondering how you had managed to get so lucky with Tommy.

He might be a little rough around the edges. He smokes, he curses like a sailor, he’s got a temper, but he also takes care of you so well unlike any of your exes ever have before or at least he tries to.

“How you doing in there, sweetheart?” he smiles, snapping you out of your thoughts as he leans in the doorway already dressed in his warm sweatpants and white t-shirt.

“This feels so fucking good. You have no idea.”

“I don’t mean to rush you, baby. But the pizza’s all heated up. You need to eat too.”

“I know, I’m just so tired to move.”

“Yeah? Do you want me to help?” he asks genuinely worried. “I can dry you off and-and, you know…p-put it in you?”

You follow his hands as he reaches for the open box of tampon and takes one out to study it curiously.

“How the hell do you get this inside though?” he asks frowning confusedly as he lifts the box to read the instructions.

“Where’s the applicator? Wait, was I supposed to buy that too? Does that come separately?”

Despite his eagerness to help, you can tell he’s slightly nervous of the idea of putting a tampon in you. The instruction and the product alone have him so baffled.

Your laughs echo through the bathroom as he blushes and chuckles along shyly.

“I’m just saying, I ain’t scared of a little blood.”

“Thanks, babe. But I got it under control.”

#tommy cahill #tommy cahill x reader #tommy cahill x you #tommy cahill x y/n #tommy cahill fic #tommy cahill imagine #tommy cahill fanfic #tommy cahill fanfiction #jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal fic #jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal fanfiction #jake gyllenhaal fanfic #brothers 2009

[felice-jaganshi]

My Fallen Apple

Chapter 11

You woke up feeling warm.

“Baby, please, open your eyes. Come on, come on…” You recognize the voice, it's Lucifer. Why does he sound so scared? Did something happen?

Your eyes feel heavy.

 

“Hm… five more minutes…” you mutter, even the words feel heavy.

 

“Oh thank fuck! Sorry babe, I need you up asap. Need you to make sure nothing else is broken.” Relief fills his voice. You finally open your eyes, and see his beautiful, worried face. And Charlie! She's right next to you too! 

 

“Hey, what's going on?” You sit up in your lovers lap and as you look around, your eyes land on Adam's dead body. Suddenly the day's events come rushing back. “Oh… holy shit… he's dead. He tried to kill me.” You then look at where Lucifer's wings would be if he had them out. “No… you got hurt because of me…” 

 

He gave a nervous laugh, “Ah hah! Nah, that, everyone was just seeing things! I'm perfectly fine! Not a speck of blood anywhere, see?” He shifted you into Charlie's hold and did a quick spin for you to see. “Fit as a golden fiddle!”

You stood up, and Charlie gave you a tight hug before going to look for Keekee. 

 

Your legs were a little wobbly still as you made your way to Lucifer and pulled him in for a tight embrace and a passionate kiss. He hugged back just as tight and kissed you till you saw stars! He pulled back first and peppered more small kisses all over your face, until he heard Charlie begin a song. He then pulled away with one more kiss before going to her.

________

 

After the musical number and helping rebuild the hotel, Lucifer took you to his new room in the hotel. Once inside you confronted him while his back was to you.

 

“Lucifer… let me see your wings.” He flinched, you saw it. 

 

“Heh, why is that? I'm not really in the mood for wing play tonight.” He smiled over his shoulder at you, looking tired.

 

“Love, that's not why. I want to make sure you're really healed all the way.” You reach out to his back and he turns to face you quickly. Retreating like a scared animal… or an injured one.

 

You sigh, and try to reach out to him in a way he's more familiar with. Something he'll be more receptive to, you take his hands, and begin singing.

“Hands, put your empty hands in mine… and scars, show me all the scars you hide. And hey, if your wings are broken, please take mine till yours can open too. ‘Cause I'm gonna stand by you.”

 

He looks at you with shock, tears suddenly forming in the corner of his eyes.

“Tears, make Kaleidoscopes in your eyes. And hurt, I know you're hurting but so am I. And love, if your wings are broken, borrow mine till yours can open too. ‘Cause I'm gonna stand by you! Even if we can't find heaven, I'll walk through hell with you! Love you're not alone, because I'm gonna stand by you!”

 

The tears fell and he moved his hands to your face, taking over the next verse.

“You're all I never knew I needed. And my heart, sometimes it's unclear why it's beating… but love, if your wings are broken, we can brave through those emotions too, because I'm gonna stand by you.”

He let his wings out and held you close, and there it was, over his shoulder, you could see the hole he kept covered by his big fluffy feathers.

You then sang together, harmonizing as your hearts reached out and understood each other. 

 

“I'll be your eyes, till yours can shine. And I'll be your arms, I'll be your steady satellite. And when you can't rise, I'll crawl with you on hands and knees, cause I, I'm gonna stand by you! Even if we can't find heaven, I'll walk through hell with you! Love, you're not alone! I'm gonna stand by you…”

 

He sighed and pet your hair, “it'll heal on its own in time. I used my power to stop the bleeding, but healing my own wings takes a lot more energy than healing others. The price of being the strongest, when you do get hurt, no one's on your level to pick you up and carry you.” He smiled, but his voice was tired and sad.

 

You scoop him up into your arms, it's a little tricky with the wings throwing off his weight, but you make it work, and lay him on the bed. “Who says I can't carry you?” He was blushing. “Luci goosey, my lover, my king… I will always stand at your side and pick you up when you fall. Just like you do for me.” You smile and kiss his forehead, then each cheek, then his nose, before finally reaching his lips for a soft chaste kiss.

“I love you. And I always will.” 

 

He looked at you in awe, “Marry me?”

 

You blush, is this how he was going to propose?! “Are you serious?” 

He blushed, “I… um…” he took a slow deep breath. “Yes. Yes I do. I didn't mean to do it this way, but I'm not taking back my words, because I do mean them, and I don't want to hurt you with a misunderstanding.”

 

You can't help but smile. What a goof. What a good man. “I do! I mean, yes! Of course I want to be your wife!”

 

“Great! We'll tell everyone tomorrow and start planning then. For now, I just want to hold you. I… was really scared today. First for Charlie, then… You were just suddenly on the ground with so much blood around you… I thought I was about to lose you. Please, never do that to me again.” He pulled you to his chest and wrapped his wings around you.

You've never felt safer or warmer.

 

“I promise.”

#hazbin hotel #lucifer magne #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #fallen apple #fallen angel

[elerriellee]

A tentative and not-so-short rundown of The Reunion 24/01/18 opening night. Ramin & Hadley centric.

Act 1

There's scripted talking in between the first few songs to introduce everyone. I say scripted because there are Chinese subtitles on the side screens.

Man of La Mancha: Ramin+Earl

Earl did the squeaky Sancho voice he was hilarious

I've Decided to Marry You: Hadley+Natalie+Holly

Holly is so sweet I'm officially a fan

Hard to Speak My Heart: Hadley's solo

This is Hadley's only solo, honestly, I'm a bit disappointed BUT he nailed it as always, what can I say the man is perfect. Also, talk about aging like fine wine. He was in full suit & tie in Act 1, I was looking through binoculars & shaking he's so handsome.

What Baking Can Do: Samantha solo

Journey to the Past: Samantha's solo

I don't have much commentary for Sam because honestly, I think her brilliance is like. A given fact at this point. Everyone should just acknowledge that she's perfect. End of discussion.

Come What May

Evermore

For Good

My memory has failed me. I think Come What May was Samantha+Natalie+Holly. Evermore was Ramin+Holly. I'm not sure.

Love Finds You: Ramin+Holly+Natalie+Hadley+Earl

Much better than the meet&greet version. More put together. Although I think the band fucked up a bit at the end.

After this song there's a short POTO entr'acte. They had installed chandeliers on the stage so they were lowered for the next few songs.

Think of Me: Holly+Hadley

Holly is so sweet. Hadley ran up the stage to sing "Can it be Christine". Lots of screaming.

All I Ask of You: Hadley+Holly

I'm aware there are comments online about Hadley!Raoul being a bit mean/harsh/demanding/whatever, BUT this version. THIS VERSION. Hadley's voice was so soft and gentle, he was smiling and gazing at Holly the whole time. At the ending bit when Raoul & Christine were supposed to kiss, Hadley does a little bow and kisses the back of Holly's hand. THEY'RE SO CUTE I CAN'T TAKE IT. Although I'm kinda getting sibling/bestie vibes from them lol.

Music of the Night: Ramin's solo

Classic & perfect.

20 minutes intermission

Act 2

Into the Unknown: Samantha+Holly+Everyone else in the back

Holly did the "voice calling to Elsa" part, everyone else was harmonizing in the background. Such a powerful beginning to the second act. Again, Samantha, QUEEN.

Heart of Stone: Natalie

I was shocked in all the good ways, Natalie's voice was so powerful it was mind-blowing. The band fucked up big time here but she saved it, she's amazing.

Love Me Anyway: Ramin+Natalie+Hadley on guitar

This song is by Pink, I think, and the only song that's not from a musical. Hadley has a few bars of beautiful guitar solo right in the middle and I'm pretty sure Ramin & I were wearing the same expression.

There's a bit of talking at this point from Ramin and Hadley, improv & not scripted. I'm getting FTRR vibes, they're so relaxed and comfortable with each other. Ramin jokes about Hadley's first time singing AIAOY after the 25th anniversary, and Hadley goes: is this your first time singing MOTN? They laugh and Hadley hums that meme sound effect (idek how to describe it), Ramin *singing along*: "No." Oh I love these two.

The Other Side: Hadley+Ramin

Hadley as Barnum and Ramin as Philip, I mean, wait what? But it worked guys it worked. And Hadley's version, the way he lowers his voice... is actually really sexy? (the friend I went with: it's not talking business it's seduction) I'm so confused.

Who I'd Be: Hadley+Ramin+Holly

This trio is gold.

I'm All Alone: Hadley+Ramin+Earl

They made this song hilarious. Ramin and Hadley making funny faces behind Earl and talking quietly while Earl was getting bullied singing "I'm all alone" (Ramley in the back, with an eye roll and a shrug acting all exasperated: "Yeah. He's all alone")

Till I hear you sing: Ramin solo

KING. HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO BE NORMAL AFTER THIS?

I Dreamed a Dream: Natalie's solo

Again, Natalie has a resonating, powerful voice, and this song shows it.

Stars: Earl solo

How does he go from laughing and joking to full-on Javert mode in 5 seconds I will never fully understand. Amazed.

Heart full of love: Hadley+Holly

Another dream come true moment of hearing Hadley!Marius. If I'm honest this couldn't beat the 22-year-old Hadley version but again let's talk about aging like fine wine...

On My Own: Samantha

There was a suspended moment after "a world that's full of happiness that I have never known" & I'm pretty sure the entire room was collectively holding their breath. I don't think my words are ever going to be adequate to describe Sam's performance.

Bring Him Home: Ramin solo+Hadley on guitar

Them gazing at each other for 3 minutes. On the last note Ramin messed up a little, he turns to Hadley like "sos I fucked up" and Hadley takes his hand. During the meet&greet Hadley said Ramin was a bit sick so I guess he's not yet at his 100% (Last night Hadley was still coughing a bit as well, at stage door he was wearing two layers of jackets lol), but they're both looking (and sounding) much better.

One Day More: Everyone

Ramin as Enjolras. OMG. I think there's video online guys go see for yourselves.

Aaaand I think that's all.

#ramin karimloo #hadley fraser #earl carpenter #holly anne hull #natalie may paris #samantha barks #the reunion #the reunion beijing #ramley #also i wrote this on my way to the second performance please excuse any mistakes

[blasphemous-cal]

I’m in the mood to take you out for dinner. We’ll dress up nice, walk arm in arm. You’ll tell a joke and I’ll try to smother my laugh so as not to disturb everyone else. I’ll take your hand from across the table, run my thumb across your knuckles. And that’s when the trouble will start.

You’ll see it in the way I look up at you, the mischievous glint in my eye. I’ll motion for you to lean in, and when you do, I’ll tell you how I’ve been thinking about you all day. Thinking about your body, your skin against mine. Those pretty little noises you make. Oh, I make you sing for me, darling, don’t I? I’d give you a quick kiss on your earlobe and lean back, a smirk on my face at that pretty blush spreading across your cheeks.

Throughout the dinner, I’d keep teasing you. Running the toe of my boot up your leg. Reaching over to brush your sensitive neck with my fingers. Aw, it really doesn’t take much to make you all flustered, huh baby? Had you been thinking about me too? About how I could ruin you with my mouth?

We’d finish our dinner, and I’d escort you to my car, my finger’s running slowly up and down your spine as we walked. Play with the hair at the nape of your neck. I’d let you choose the music, love, as I kept my hand firmly on your thigh as I drove. My thumb would trace patterns on your skin, loving how your muscles would twitch with the touch.

Then, finally, we’d be home. I can just see you rushing to get us inside, so eager. But when I shut the door behind us, I’d just casually shrug off my coat. I’d go to the kitchen and pour myself a drink. You’d follow me, of course, pouting like a lost puppy. So cute. Would you be brave enough to ask for what you want then, darling? Could you look me in my eyes and tell me that you need to be fucked? Oh, I’d love to see you try, all blushy and nervous.

I’d roll up my sleeves and sit on the couch, then, legs spread lazily. My finger would beckon you closer, my eyes watching you with hunger as I told you to strip. And you would, wouldn’t you? Because you’re so good for me, my good little pet. It’d drive me crazy seeing you before me, your beautiful body bare. I can just imagine how you’d rub your thighs together, the wetness already slicking across them.

Then, after I was done admiring you, I’d tell you to spread your legs and touch yourself. God- you’d look so amazing, darling. Your fingers teasing your clit as you looked right in my eyes. You put on this act of the shy little sweetheart, but I know you. I know how much you ache to be fucked and used. And I want to give that to you. As long as you’re good, of course.

I’d let you tease and fuck yourself until your legs start shaking and your hips start bucking. Then I’d tell you to come sit in my lap. And- oh- you’d been waiting for this, haven’t you sweetheart? Needing it. My hands gripping your hips, your cunt pressed against the strap bulging in my pants. But I wouldn’t fuck you yet, not when there’s still so much fun to be had.

I’d leave marks all over your neck and tits, make sure everyone knew who the fuck you belong to. If you tried to grind down on my bulge, I’d hold you still, gripping you hard enough to leave bruises. But you’d love that, huh? The way my big hands would rough you up like that as I bite down into your neck. Oh, I know you would, pet.

Finally, after you been so good for me, I’d let you undo my pants and pull the strap out. Aw, baby, I can just imagine how blushy you’d get as it rubbed up against your clit. So sweet. I’d let you settle down on to it as slow as you wanted, taking me into you inch by beautiful inch. God, you’d be so perfect. I’d even let you set the pace, since you’d been so good for me.

I’d suck on your nipple, my thumb teasing your clit as you rode me. The way your moans would harmonize with the sounds of your wet pussy fucking my strap would be heavenly. I’d dig my nails into your thigh as you fucked yourself onto my strap, telling you how perfect you are, how gorgeous, how amazingly you take my cock. I’d make you repeat every praise I give you as you get closer to the release you need.

But just as you’re about to cum, I’d stop you. I’d ignore your protests, your cries, as I pulled out. I’d lay you onto the couch and spread your legs, diving right into that beautiful cunt tongue first. You’d be so fucking wet, it’d be easy to slip my fingers inside of you, curling to press against your g-spot. Then, only then as my tongue was on your clit and my fingers buried deep inside you, would I let you come.

The way your back would arch, how your fingers would grip my hair as you screamed my name… that’d be enough for me, darling. I couldn’t ask for anything more divine. I’d carry you to our bed and tuck you in. Leave just long enough to put our leftovers in the fridge and make you your favorite tea before coming back to rub your back and tell you how absolutely perfect you are until you drifted to sleep.

[MEN, MINORS AND TERFS DO NOT INTERACT]

#nblw nsft #nblnb nsft #sapphic nsft #lesbian nsft #nsft #queer nsft #wlw nsft #men dni #my nsft #my writing #nsft text #dirty talk #t4t love #callisto’s confessionals

[chronic-ghost]

Chapter 1 of Recovery Road

chapter rating (this will change!): T

pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader

word count: 6444

chapter summary: dieter joins the production of an old friend and meets his new co-star

chapter warnings/tags: discussions of addiction/rehab, smoking, cursing, angst, no use of y/n, named reader but no physical descriptions other than hairstyle/clothing, adult language

a/n: Highly recommend reading the AO3 version. I've been working on doing some fun things with formatting work skins, so please check that out! My FC for Heidi is Sarah Goldberg and Timothy Olyphant as Mark, but yours doesn't have to!

▲ Series Masterlist | Next

▲ AO3 Link

“Despite the meteoric success of their first and only film together, Recovery Road, neither Dieter Bravo nor Natalie Lorraine were present when the film won the Oscar for Best Picture that year— an oddity for the main leads of such a critical and commercial darling. Cobbled together from stories from other cast members, director’s cut commentary, and straight up rumors, there is no clear cut picture of what happened to prevent the two stars from basking in the rewards of the film’s success. Perhaps in twenty years, if we’re all still around and the internet monolith continues to chug forward, we’ll get some tell-all documentary on Netflix where all things will be revealed. Blood shed. Lives lost. The whole shebang. Until then, you can find this old reviewer sitting up in his attic rewatching one of the most poignant and moving depictions of love and addiction we’ve gotten in the last three decades. Recovery Road is not, nor has it ever been, one to miss.” - John Michael David, Rolling Stone, “Why Recovery Road Still Stays With Us Today”

It’s getting hot inside the car. 

If he was going to sit this long in the fucking car, he should have left it running. Summers in LA are sneaky. Desert air is cold in the dark, but piercing in the day. He had purposefully parked in the shade, but it was still too much. He feels sweat break out across his hairline and he knows that won’t be a good look. He needs to look completely put together, completely at ease, relaxed. Unflinching. Unrufflable. Like he does tai chi every thirty minutes and can harmonize with the universe during rush hour traffic. 

He’s got to keep it together. 

But he can’t take his fucking palms down from his eyes. The heel of his hands dig into his eye sockets and for all the pressure it builds, it feels good. The pressure flushes out every other thought in his head and he needs to go into this clear-headed. If he fucks up again, it’s not just his ass on the line. 

He wants to believe things are going to be different this time. He wants to believe he’s going to be different. He’s worked his ass off to get here – sweated and shook and vomited into his own lap as the withdrawals tightened every muscle in his body – and now he just needs this one chance. Chloe – patient, perfect Chloe – was counting on him. If she said he could do it, he probably could. 

His left hand, third finger, twinges and that’s what brings his hands down from his face. He looks at the ring there. That gold beautiful ring. A promise made real. He swallows. 

Today, it’s a table read. Done it a thousand times. He’s actually early, for fuck’s sake. He glances down, triple checking he’s not wearing slippers or that mangy robe. Jeans. Black shirt. Easy. Chloe warned against the rings, but he’d sooner part with those than his right hand entirely. Sure he fucked up, sure he was a fuck up, but there were parts of Dieter Bravo that just had a right to exist. People wouldn’t recognize him without his rings. 

He did cave about the earring though. 

You’re almost thirty-six, darling. Nobody but rockstars can wear earrings at that age. 

When he went into rehab, he was thirty-three. He had lost two years of his life in that prison and he was not about to do it again. He had left his sobriety token at home, but he wished he had it now, just for something to squeeze, something to soothe his feverish palm. Again, Chloe had quietly nudged him: “do we need to get you a fidget spinner, baby?”

He wanted to joke, “that’s what the adderall is for”, but given that his doctor was forced to prescribe him something else for his ADHD after they found a dozen empty pill bottles under his bed, it probably wasn’t all that funny. 

He breathes, counting down just like the nice lady at the rehab center taught him to. 

Your self-destructive habits formed out of necessity. It’s time to reshape them. 

Today, it’s just a table read. He can do this.

He pops the sunglasses out of their holder on the console and slips them over his eyes. He takes one more glance out of the rearview mirror, half-expecting to be staring down the long lens of a TMZ reporter. He grabs the script from the passenger seat, curls it under his fingers— and still doesn’t move.

He likes this script. He likes the writer, seen their work in the past and it rocks. It’s good. It’s a good part. It’s actually better than good. It’s Oscar bait, they say on the internet, and he has the lead part. An aging musician struggling to rebuild his life after a drug addiction ruined his band’s final tour. The scriptwriter didn’t actually say that he had Dieter in mind when he wrote the part, but Jesus– suffice it to say, he understood the material. 

The aging musician was going to help a young upstart find her way in the music scene. She joins the band. They flirt, they fuck, they fall in love, and everything is ruined by their own egos. End credits. Lights up. Oscar in his hand. 

He didn’t recognize the name of his co-star when his agent sent over the cast list. He honestly didn’t even ask about her. He knew the director, had worked with her in the past, and thought she had a real eye for scenecraft and a knack for finding that beating heart of a moment. He trusted her with casting the right part for his opposite, just as she had casted him. But it wasn’t even about her, his co-star– he was ready to dig in and see what the director could pull out of him. 

And fuck, if it worked for RDJ, then it could work for him. 

This had to work for him. He feels the pressure return behind his eyeballs. 

“Fuck it,” he hisses and nearly kicks the door open. The script curled up in his hand like a baseball bat, Dieter Bravo strolls across the hot parking lot to the studio sound stage and into the rest of his life.

He is used to being stared at. He is used to all eyes on him, but not like this. This feels too much like that last party when the cops showed up and found all of his illegal prescriptions. It makes him itch.

The empty stage is filled mostly with crew and staff, setting up lighting and testing the sound recording. They’re all busy, getting ready for next week to start filming, but they all still have time to send him a worried glance. Because if he fucked up, they’d all be out of a job until shooting wrapped. They had enough courtesy to not actually whisper in front of him, but he knew exactly what they were saying just after he’s out of earshot:

“Oh, fuck, this is a Bravo flick? Shit, I gotta get another gig.”

“That asshole is here? Oh my God, this thing’ll be shut down in two weeks!”

“Fuck that guy and his stupid hair.”

Okay, that last one might have been projecting. He catches his own gaze in a pane of glass while he waits for the director’s assistant to return. His hair, despite his best attempts, would not lie flat, would not stay unrumpled. Another thing Chloe thought a man of his age shouldn’t have. 

He hasn’t seen another cast member and now he’s worried he got the time wrong and he’s missed it and he’s already started all of this off all wrong —

“Dieter! Oh my God, you’re here!”

Heidi, the director, beams at him so bright he actually feels himself go warm. She has her arms out open for him and he rushes to her, picks her up in his arms and twirls her. Her hair is back to her natural silvery blonde, cut short and kept out of her face with a tornado of bobby pins. He’s never seen her without her jean jacket, even at premieres. 

Early on in their careers, he found he had too much respect for her to try and sleep with her and they formed, over the years, the closest thing he could call a healthy relationship. She was like his sister, since his own didn’t seem like she’d ever pick up the phone again. 

It also helped that she was a raging lesbian, happily married, and wouldn’t go near his dick for all the money at Warner Brothers Studios. 

“Dieter, you look so fucking good, dude.” She pats his face and scrunches up her nose, those black headphones knocking around her neck. “Fuck, it’s been too long.”

“I know, Di, I know.” He always liked that their nicknames sounded alike. Dee and Di. A team. “How’s Lucy?”

“Pfft, you know her. Taken the kids up to Canada for the summer. Says the trees are more ‘real’ there,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I miss the little buggers, but shit, it’s nice to have a quiet house.”

He laughs, the knot in his chest easing. “Before school starts up again, you’ll have to come by the new place.”

“Oh, shit, that’s right. You just moved back into the neighborhood, didn’t you? I heard about that. You and, uh . . .”

He hides the blush in the tips of his ears with his hand, acting like he’s scratching an itch on the side of his head. “Yeah, Chloe and I are still together. Been married for a little over two years now.”

At that, Heidi’s bright green eyes snap open wide. She nearly launches herself at him to grab his hand, gawking at the only gold ring on his finger. “Shutthefuckup. You got married?! You asshole, why wasn’t I invited?”

He swallows past the hard knot in his throat. “It was a small thing. Could hardly call it a party.” 

Heidi, as she usually does, takes not a lick of his bullshit. “Uh huh. Well, shit, I guess we have to double-date now.” 

“I’d like that.” He grins.

Her shock softens, and she punches his shoulder softly, her smile wide across her face. “You fuckin’ dork. I can’t believe you got married. Who knew Dieter Bravo would settle down?” 

He doesn’t know what to say to that, doesn’t know what’s going to come out of his mouth if he tries to answer, so he just shrugs. Her eyes linger on him for a second more, before looping her arm through his and leading him away from the stage. 

“So have you read the script?”

He nods eagerly. “Yep. The whole thing. Front to back. It’s fucking incredible, Heidi.” 

“Yes it is! There’s so much to work with. It’s a little hoity-toity for my taste in some places, but I think there’s a way to balance the shmaltz with genuine emotion, you know? The script, it’s so raw and real, I know you can get to those places.”

“Yeah, like I haven’t already,” he jokes off-handedly. They’re standing in the big open bay, where the crew can wheel in giant cranes for lighting or special effects, when Heidi freezes. A frown is growing over her face as though realizing something for the first time. A wind blows in and he thinks he can smell the desert in it.

“Oh, fuck, Dee,” she murmurs, not even looking at him. “This script, the material . . . you just got out of fucking rehab, and—,”

He shakes his head, a bit frantic. He’ll get on his hands and knees to let her keep him on this project. “Heidi, this is fine. I’m fine.”

He takes her by her shoulders and makes her look him in the eye. 

“I want this part. I want this part so fucking badly. I know I can do it too. I’m going to do this project and it’s going to blow your fucking socks off. You can count on me. I’m responsible now, I promise.”

At that, her green eyes soften. “Responsible and married? Who the fuck are you and what have you done with Dieter Bravo?”

Early on in their careers, she had also been right by his side, doing line after line of coke off hookers and strippers. But then she grew up. If she can have a family and a beautiful wife, then why can’t he? 

“Dee, look,” she says softly and touches the hand around her shoulder. “I’m not worried about any of that. I always knew you were something special, if you could just get out of your own way.” She glances away, shame making her mouth tick. “But I should have checked in more. I knew you were still in rehab, even after those times I called. I should have stayed in touch. I’m sorry.”

Something about her pity was unbearable. “Don’t. Please. It’s in the past. It’s over and I want to move on. This time, it’s going to be different.”

Heidi nods, smiling. “For sure, dude. We’ll do this together.”

He can fucking breathe again. She sees this and takes him by the arm, letting him get his feet under him. The air is warm, and Heidi’s hand is firm against his forearm. 

“I know the email said to meet at the sound stage, but everyone’s working out here, so I just put us in the back of the studio. Much more quiet. C’mon, I think I saw Mark’s car up front.”

She leads him to the next building, chattering on and on about the composer they got. How the music is gonna fuck so hard, they’re even trying to convince the studio to let them record a full fake album for the movie — “if you don’t wanna sing, Dee, that’s totally fine but I am begging you to do at least some of the guitar,” — and the building door opens.

It’s a squat building, probably more offices than anything to do with production, but it’s where Heidi is taking him, and the door opens. A man, much younger than he is, stumbles out, giddily laughing over his shoulder. He looks to be a PA of some kind — wiry, a little strung out, probably with dreams of writing the next Citizen Kane someday — but he’s looking at something over his shoulder. 

Or rather at someone. 

A woman, barely that but with all the cosmic designs of one, steps out after him. Her white cowboy boots hug just below her knee, her smooth legs, rich with the sun, curl up into a men’s white collared shirt. She walks and only a flash of denim shorts peek out from under the shirt. 

She isn’t laughing, but smirking. Knowing something this poor PA has no concept of. Her black aviators push her lush hair out of her face and her fingers glitter with silver jewelry. She’s smiling at the PA like a leopard seal smiles at lemmings. 

She chews something in the back of her teeth and then blows a bright pink bubble. The PA’s smile falls off his face as he watches, wide-eyed, the gum snaps in her mouth. 

Dieter immediately and, without question, dislikes her. Dislikes her so much, he can feel it burn in his chest.

Her wicked eyes slide from the PA, over his shoulder, and lands squarely on Dieter. She blinks. 

“Oh, hey, kiddo, you found the right place.” 

Heidi walks up to her and shakes her hand. That sharp-toothed glint in her eye is gone as she eagerly chats up Heidi, and the PA might as well have disappeared off the face of the earth. 

Heidi waves him over and it takes a full two seconds for him to remember how walking works. The sun is hot on his back. 

The woman — the girl — is looking him up and down, calculating and cool. As if she, unlike him, hasn’t quite made up her mind about what she thinks of him. 

Heidi waves a hand in between you two. She says your name and his mind suddenly locks onto it. He suddenly knows who you are before Heidi says it. He read it on the cast list. He hadn’t given it a second thought. 

“This is your new co-star, Natalie Lorraine. The other lead. You two will be working very closely together for the next couple of months.”

She’s stopped chewing gum. Either she swallowed it or tightly packed it to the back of her gums, because there’s no slur, no crumpled edge to her words, when she extends her hand and says:

“Hi, Dieter. Nice to meet you.” 

Your hand is soft in his and your lotion reminds him of lilac. 

Today is just a fucking table read.

He tries to unclench his jaw when he says, “nice to meet you too.” 

He’s on his third bottle of water and he’s eying the trashcan in the corner, wondering how discreetly he could throw away several plastic bottles before it looks weird. He’s got the script out in front of him on a long, white plastic table and a few people have stopped by to say hi. He had gotten up to stand and shake their hand, and several of them had blinked up at him, as if they had forgotten how tall he was, when he wasn’t hunched over, fighting a hangover. Heidi was gathering the last of the cast mates before the table read and had been gone for twenty minutes or so. Maybe — 

In the corner, she laughs, the sound brilliant and loud. In a world full of perfect, practiced laughs, hers is noticeable, but not entirely bad, and a few people turn to look at her. She’s got a hand on Mark Bronson’s arm, clearly delighted at something he said, and he is obviously starstruck. 

Dieter actively fights the scowl on his face. He’d known Mark for a while. Good guy, little vices, always put in the work. Been married to the same waitress he met out in Oregon on a shoot a decade and a half ago, and never once stepped out. Dieter had been thrilled to see him, to catch up on old times, Dieter purposefully making a joke that referenced the one time they were on that old cop show together when they first got to Hollywood. “Nobody would really believe we’re gangsters, now, eh, Dee?” Mark had said with a grin. “Too fuckin’ old.” 

Mark had stayed and talked and that again eased the tension in his chest. If Mark actually hated his guts, then the Oscar really should go to him.

But as more people filed in, he excused himself to catch up with one of the directors of the art department and Dieter had taken the opportunity to grab as many bottles as a reasonable person would from the cooler. He likes ice cold water. The colder, the better the burn. 

But here Mark is, sidled up to that girl, laughing it up like they were old friends. Traitor, he muses glumly, and thumbs the white plastic cap. He’s thought about Googling her — who the fuck is this girl — but didn’t know how to justify it if someone caught him.

The back door to the room opens and Heidi steps in.

“Alright, five minutes. Take your smoke breaks, your pee breaks, your whatever breaks. Hopefully not all at the same time, but I ain’t here to judge.” 

There’s a collective chuckle before everyone moves to take their seats. He keeps his eyes trained on the water bottle as bodies weave around him, chair squeaking as they are pulled out and sat on. The atmosphere is relaxed, easy, everything he wanted. So why is he so fucking tightly wound?

“Thirsty?” 

It takes him a second to unstick his gaze from the bottle. He knows you’re talking to him. 

He glances up at your face from under his lashes. You aren’t exactly smiling at him, but there’s a light in your eyes that feels . . . playful. What a normal, innocent question. But when he doesn’t respond, you lean forward on your elbows, your rings interlocking on your fingers. Your gaze drops his and nudges the two empty plastic bottles around his script.

“And there’s two more under your chair. So are you—,”

“I like to keep hydrated,” he says, cutting you off. “It’s summer in LA and . . . uh, it’s hot.” 

“Uh huh,” you reply, slowly. “Can I have one? You know, since it’s hot.”

His mouth twitches — get off your perky ass and get one yourself — but then he’s liable to see your bare legs again. And he knows a comment like that would get him some stares, which would not be good. 

He swears you know all of this too, by the way your eyes glitter at him, daring him. That’s the worst– he’s figured it out. You look at him from under your thick eyelashes like you want to play a championship round of Truth or Dare, but it would only ever be Dare. You want to see him dance on hot coals, eat a sword, kiss a snake. You want to watch him squirm and it’s so obvious, he clenches his jaw.

He swallows and bends down. He holds out the water bottle by the very end to you, but you somehow manage to brush your fingers up against his anyway. He doesn’t physically recoil but he feels like he needs to go wash his hands.

“Thank you,” you say as you unscrew the cap then drink heavily from the bottle. It’s halfway empty when you put it on the table. Your tongue laps up the water from your lip. 

He grunts as a response. You open your mouth to bother him further, when Heidi calls the start of the read. Dieter pulls his reading glasses out of his pocket, when he sees you’ve done the same. Silver, though, to his black, they’re perched on the edge of your nose, and you’re looking down at the script as if trying to divine lighting rods. You’re focused, the playful, tempting air gone, and there’s an intensity to your eyes that wasn’t there before. You look . . . almost normal. 

He slides his glasses on and looks back to his pages, the tips of his ears burning.

The table read goes well. 

Sort of. 

There’s a handful of scenes Heidi has picked out for the majority of the cast to read together. Mark does well, as the manager who is trying to hold all the egos together but struggling with demons of his own. He’s funny when he needs to be, but serious enough to flip a line read that deepens his character. God, he’s so fucking talented, Dieter thinks as the table laughs at one of his character’s jokes. 

The other members of Dieter’s band in the movie are made up of a few guys, two girls. They have a natural chemistry that makes it seem like they’ve been friends for years. Dieter makes a note to try and get to know them better as people off the set to hopefully find his own rhythm with them. A few smile at him as he’s doing his own line reading and he feels good about it. 

Everything is fine and easy, until there are a few scenes specifically between him and you.

You’re putting too much emotion into it for just a table read and it’s making him uncomfortable. These things are just to get to know everyone, to see how the cast can play off each other, but you’re out here acting like there’s cameras ten feet back. Have you ever even been to a table read before? Shouldn’t you know this?

After you deliver a heartfelt monologue about feeling lonely in the world, he hears a few sniffles. The two girls of the band are red-eyed and Mark is stone-faced. Even Heidi looks affected. 

What the fuck is going on? Is he the only one not swayed by your bullshit? 

All of a sudden, you take his hand from across the table, your eyes pouring into his and he’s caught off guard. 

“Tell me you understand,” you say, your voice wet with emotion. “Tell me you understand why you can’t ever leave me.”

He wets his lips and sits up straighter in his seat. He squeezes your hand, opening up the light in his eyes. Fine, two can play that fucking game.

“I’m no good for you, baby,” he croons. “There’s a million of me out there and only one of you.”

“But you’re the only one I want. The only one I need.” 

Fuck, you’re good. But he’s better. He turns your hand over, exposing your wrist to the cool air and thumbs your pulse gently. He smiles wistfully at you.

“What we want can kill us. I love you, darling, but that’s not enough.”

The room is silent.

He glances down and read the next stage action:

They meet in a passionate kiss.

His eyebrows raise and he glances back at you, halfway expecting you to throw yourself at him from across the table. 

But, no. Instead of looking at him with love in your eyes, you are fucking furious. Your mouth is pulled into a tight line and he can see you mentally picture strangling him.

“Alright—,” Heidi calls out, her voice gruff. “Alright, let’s move on. Page one-fifteen.” 

The room fills with the fluttering of paper and a few people sniff, rubbing their eyes.

You yank back your wrist out of his grip but don’t move to turn the page. And neither does he. 

Oh, you’re mad that I did the exact same thing you were doing, but better? Sorry, hot tits, you have no idea who you’re fucking with. Welcome to the real world.

You look like you want to sink your fangs into him. You’re kind of cute, with your nostrils flared, in that megalomaniac kind of way.

A woman to his right asks what page they’re starting on, and it forces him to break eye contact with you. He tells her and thumbs to the correct page himself, where Mark is having an argument with one of the guys in the band.

He glances up at you. Tension still lines your body but you aren’t looking at him anymore. In fact, you’re making a clear point not to. His chest soars. 

He is definitely counting that as a win.

He opens the back door to the studio lot and breathes in the evening air. Day one, knocked down and dragged out back. He feels so fucking good. 

After the reading, Mark came over and congratulated him again on getting the part. He makes sure Dieter has his number before saluting him and announcing he’s heading home for the night. The band is hanging out in the corner, but the talk dies down as he approaches. One of the guys looks positively horrified as he smiles and waves at them.

“You did a great job today,” he says to their half circle. He’s never seen anyone’s eyes so wide in their heads before. “Have you all worked together before?”

“We’re an actual band and you’re really Dieter Bravo,” one of the girls blurts out. Her friend, presumably, elbows her and she blinks as though slapped. “I mean, we play real music. We’ve been on the radio a few times . . . but you’ve probably never heard of us . . .” She trails off, glancing helplessly at her friends to make her shut up.

Her friend, a young woman with hair so red it had to have been fake, rolls her eyes. “We’re The Sixers. We started out here in LA and we’ve been on the strip a few times. Our agent said that it would be great publicity if we were in a movie.” 

“Oh, shit,” Dieter mutters, as surprised as they are, “The Sixers – yeah, I have heard of you before. I’m fucking old as hell, but I still listen to the radio.” 

“You’ll have to give us some acting pointers,” one of the other guys offers up, his hands in his jean pockets. He seems less obviously starstruck but trying to play it cool. 

“Only if you help me to remember how to play the guitar,” Dieter grins. 

“You know how to play?” The first girl gawks.

He winks at her. “When everyone else around me is too drunk to notice I’m terrible.” 

They laugh, the girl’s face whiter than a sheet, and then the redhead introduces everyone. “That’s Nick, Cooper, and Samuel. Our resident ghost here is Marie, and I’m Roxie.”

He vaguely wonders which of those are stage names, but is absolutely sure that’s not Roxie’s real name. But she seems like the kind of person who’d like it that way. 

“You all are in good hands with Heidi,” he nods to the director, who’s been chatting with Mark and the art director. “She’s a visionary and really knows her shit. You’re lucky you get to have her as your first director.” 

“Have you worked with her before?” Cooper, one of the guys with legitimate beatnik hair, asks. 

Dieter nods. “Several times, actually. She’s fantastic.” 

“Have you worked with her before?” Roxie asks as you walk across the room to pick up your purse. Dieter can feel that burn in his chest again as you bend over. He shakes his head. 

“Is she new to the scene? Is that why she can’t afford any pants?” Roxie mutters and both Cooper and Samuel chuckle. Marie glares at her. 

“I heard she was a child actress in the early 2000s,” Marie continues as if trying to re-right the ship. “Was pretty successful, but then dropped off the face of the earth. Until now, I guess.”

“Maybe she went the Bella Thorne way of child actresses,” Nick murmurs, shamelessly watching your ass as you’ve turned to speak with Heidi for a moment. 

Roxie snorts. “She’s not that slutty. No one is that slutty, not even to sleep with the likes of you, Nicholas.”

“Oh, yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you –” 

Roxie slams a hand over his mouth. “I will junk-punch you so hard if you say what I think you’re going to say.” 

They’re like siblings, Dieter muses. Five, very talented, outrageous siblings. 

“It was great to meet all of you,” he says and Marie’s eyes flutter back to him. “But I gotta split. We should all go out some time. Meet up outside of work.”

“Oh, I think we’d looove that,” Cooper sing-songs, his eyes on Marie. She flushes bright red and pinches his shoulder, while Samuel laughs. “Ow!”  

Despite himself, this could actually be a fun shoot. He waves but none of them really see it, devolving into a squabble that makes him grin. 

You’re gone, he notices, but Heidi is sitting alone at the table, going over her notes. The art director has left too. 

He slides into the seat next to her and she lifts her head, smiling.

“Hey, Dee, you fucking crushed it today. Everyone’s been coming up to me to say how impressed they are with you.” 

He huffs and rolls his eyes, leaning back in the chair. “Yeah, and did they follow it with, ‘especially after how much of a fuck up we thought he’d be’?” 

Heidi playfully frowns at him. “C’mon, man, give yourself some credit. You earned the right to be here. I didn’t have to approve your audition.” 

His throat tightens. No, she really didn’t. He shakes his head.

“You’re right. As always.” 

Heidi grins, pleased, and drops her head back to her notes, marking things in a red pen. 

“So what did you think of your co-star?” 

Be nice, Dieter. “She’s . . . fine.” 

Heidi smirks, but doesn’t look up. “Wow, I don’t think you’ve ever used less words to describe someone, much less a woman.” 

He doesn’t like the way she says woman, as if there’s this cosmic reckoning that’s started and he just doesn’t know it yet. Sam and Diane, Bones and Booth – a destined sort of thing. 

He rolls his jaw. 

“She just acts . . . uppity, is all. Like she’s better than everyone else.” 

Heidi snorts. “Okay, tell me how you really feel.”

“I don’t like her.”

At that, Heidi pauses and looks up, genuine concern on her face.

“Really? You don’t like her? She came recommended by the studio and she’s a bit much, but I didn’t think you’d actually dislike her.”

He back-pedals as fast as he can. This day is so close to being perfect. 

“I mean, I don’t not like her . . . I just . . . I don’t know her.” If he is being honest, the best time to tell her exactly what’s been on his mind all day is probably right now. “And, fuck, Di, isn’t she a bit . . . I don’t know . . .” He swears he can hear the old Dieter laughing at him. “. . . young?” 

Heidi grimaces, taking his concern seriously and he loves her even more for that. 

“It was a studio note. Execs say it makes the central conflict feel more . . .”

“Predatory?” His eyebrow lifts, disdain evident in his drawl. She frowns at him.

“Transcendent.”

There is nothing about that girl that is transcendent, he thinks bitterly. 

He sighs and leans closer. Heidi notices his change in body language and leans forward too.

“I just cannot fuck this up, Di. I have to come out on top with this. It’s really important.”

That pity flashes across her face again and his stomach curdles. But she soothes a hand over his, her eyes serious. 

“Dee, I know. I really do. I’m not going to let anything bad happen here. She starts acting up, she’s out. We don’t need her that badly.”

He couldn’t be sure if she actually had the power to kick a co-star off the set, but he wanted to believe she did. More importantly, she wanted him to believe she did. 

“Thanks, Di,” he sighs. “I don’t know what I would do without you.” 

She chuckles and pulls her hand back. 

“Go home to your wife at a normal hour.” She pauses, making a face as if she tasted something sour. “Your wife – God, I will never get used to that.”

“Hey, I got used to it, after my best friend left me for some brunette out in Bali,” he teases as he stands up. 

Heidi scoffs. “That wedding was sick as fuck and you know it.” 

“You know, I never did bill Lucy for the piercing I got there. Sober Dieter would never have made the decision to look like a Keith Richards knock-off.”

“Oh shut the fuck up and go home. To your wife.” 

He’s laughing as he waves her good night. 

He opens the back door to the studio lot and breathes in the evening air. Day one, knocked down and dragged out back. He feels so fucking good. 

He’s thumbing through his keys when he smells smoke. Acidic smoke. Like those disgusting American Spirits he used to choke down. 

You’re leaning by the trunk of your car, one heel kicked over the other, smoking a white cigarette through your fingers. Which would be fine with him, except your car is parked tightly in the space next to his and you’re blocking the way to the driver’s seat. He’d rather crawl through the trunk than have to bend around you.

You’re biting on your thumbnail, contemplative, and staring directly at him with unabashed contempt. 

“Your reading was stilted,” you announce and then take a long drag. 

“Excuse me?”

“Your reading today,” you say slowly as though talking to a stupid child, “it was stilted.” 

He pops his jaw. 

“That’s because it was a fucking . . .” He remembers to breathe. “That’s because . . . it was a table read. Have you ever been to one?”

“Yes.” You tap the ash off your cigarette on the heel of your boot, drawing his gaze to the flush of your thigh but he’s not going to fall for it. “It can be a great opportunity for actors to find their chemistry. To find their rhythm.”

“I know that.” 

“Then where was yours? Huh?” You lift your eyebrows. Did you ever not want to play Dare?

“What are you talking about? I had a fine time with the band. We’re actually going to hang out outside–,”

“I mean with me.” 

That burning sensation returns to his chest. You look at him as if you could sear a hole right through him. Your cigarette is left smoking, forgotten, between your fingers at your hip. 

“The only time you ever gave me anything was after I touched you and even then, your performance was so saccharine, it made my teeth ache. I’m out here to prove I belong here, on this big budget film, and you’re stonewalling me. What do you have against me? What did I ever do to you? 

He runs his tongue against the back of his teeth, guilt smothering the fight you aroused in him. He drops your gaze and puts his hands on his hips. He’s too old to be scolded like this.

“Nothing, alright? You didn’t do anything,” he says quietly. “It’s not you–,”

“Of course it fucking isn’t but thank you for saying so,” you snap. 

You take one more drag before flicking the white butt onto the pavement of the gathering darkness.

“This is going to be a long shoot if you can’t get your head out of your ass.” You step forward and he instinctively takes a step back, but you come close anyway and shove a finger in his chest. “I don’t know what your deal is and I don’t care. We’re going to get through this even if I have to grab you by your hair and pull you to the finish line. Got it?” 

Your eyes are shining, fierce, powerful. Your mouth could crush rocks. 

He nods. 

Maybe it’s the trick of the failing light, but he thinks your pupils are a little too unnaturally wide. 

“Great. See you Monday.” 

You turn away from him, stalking back to your car and hurling your purse into the side seat. The car, a Chevy that’s possibly older than he is, roars to life, with just as much vitality as you possess. He leaps back a second before the wheels squeal as the car lurches backwards and darts off into the dark. 

He stands, watching the car pull away onto the road, until it’s gone. He can still hear the engine screaming in the distance. 

He thumbs his keys again, shaking his head. For the first time in months, he would literally kill someone for a cigarette.

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic #the bubble #the bubble fanfic #the bubble fic #the bubble fanfiction #the bubble 2016

[sydmarch]

The Smallest Date in Martinaise

Pairing: Harry/Garte

WC: 1,927

Summary: Is it a good idea to ask out a man who in all likelihood still hates you at least a little for destroying one of the rooms in his establishment? Probably not, but now that you’ve given him a stuffed grouse, impressed him with your killer karaoke skills, and realized you both have the same taste in music, maybe you DO have a small chance…

i'd originally planned this to be a one shot but since i haven't touched it in several months i figured i'd post what i've got so far as "chapter one" & maybe it would motivate me to continue writing. the idea for this fic was inspired by this iconic tumblr post

full fic below the cut or on ao3

GARTE, THE CAFETERIA MANAGER - “Hey,” He nods in greeting. “Was there something you needed?”

1. - “About my bill for tonight…”

2. - “I need a drink. Can you pour me one?” 

3. - “Garte, I saw another *thing* at the Whirling…”

4. - [Suggestion: Challenging 12] Ask him out. 

5. “Good bye.” [Leave.]

SUGGESTION [Challenging: Success] - You know the two of you share similar taste in music. Start with that, and go from there. 

1. - “You like the Etenniers, right?”

2. - I’m not so sure about this…

YOU - “You like the Etenniers, right?”

GARTE, THE CAFETERIA MANAGER - “Yes?” The man raises an eyebrow, clearly wondering where you’re going with this. 

REACTION SPEED [Medium: Failure] - Where *are* you going with this? 

SUGGESTION - You’ve got this. It’s a no brainer! You like the Etenniers, he likes the Etenniers. Ask him to listen to a tape together.

LOGIC [Formidable: Failure] - Yep. I see no issues with this plan. 

ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Trivial: Success] - *Or* you could skip the pleasantries and get straight down to business. A man with lips like that… Ask him what that mouth do. 

VOLITION [Easy: Success] - Or you could *not* do that. Ask him something normal. Like a *normal* person would. 

1. - “I was just thinking since we both like the Etenniers, maybe we could listen to a tape together?”

2. - “Nevermind the Etenniers, what that mouth do?”

3 - “Would you like to go on an extremely normal date with me?”

4 - “Forget it.” [Leave.]

YOU - “I was just thinking since we both like the Etenniers, maybe we could listen to a tape together?”

GARTE, THE CAFETERIA MANAGER - He is smiling, but there’s a clear sarcasm in the expression. “Oh, listen to a tape? And how do you suppose we do that? Using the tape player that you *destroyed* when you *trashed your room*?”

LOGIC - Oops. 

1. - “Shit, I’m so sorry. I keep fucking everything up.”

2. - “I paid you back, didn’t I? That tape player was cramping my *style*”

3. - “Who needs that tape player, I’ve got *this* beauty.” [Show him the Harmon Wowshi.]

YOU - “Who needs that tape player, I’ve got *this* beauty.” [Show him the Harmon Wowshi.]

GARTE, THE CAFETERIA MANAGER - While at first he appears taken aback - clearly not expecting you to have a viable alternative, he nods appreciatively after looking over the player. “Alright, fine. I could use a break.” A small smile, genuine this time. “And I *do* really like the Etenniers.” 

ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Challenging: Success] -  You’re in! Next stop, pound town!

RHETORIC [Easy: Success] - Not so fast, you can still mess this up. 

1. - “Cool, it's a date!”

2. - “Let’s get to it then.”

YOU - “Cool, it's a date!”

GARTE, THE CAFETERIA MANAGER - “What? I never agreed to - “

COMPOSURE [Trivial: Success] - His face turns bright red. He’s clearly flustered, but not displeased. 

GARTE, THE CAFETERIA MANAGER - “You know, it’s not worth arguing. Sure. Okay.” He sighs, blush fading back to his usual color. “So where do you suggest we have this. Um. Date?”

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Legendary: Failure] - You know plenty of romantic spots to bring a date… like the Whirling in Rags, for one! 

RHETORIC [Easy: Success] - Do *not* suggest the Whirling! The last place a man would want to go on a date is the workplace he had to reluctantly return to. 

SUGGESTION [Formidable: Success] - No, the Whirling is the *perfect* place! You’ve seen how beneath the facade of indifference he cares for the place, how he’s the master of his domain. You want to take him somewhere familiar, comfortable. Plus he would be unlikely to leave the place unattended with the Hardies in their booth. 

YOU - Wait, which of you is right?

LOGIC [Challenging: Failure] - Your guess is as good as mine. 

1. - “Only the best spot in Martainaise will do!” [Gesture to the room around you.]

2. - “Why not right here?” 

3. - “On the boardwalk past the fishing village there's a great view across the water. Nevermind that we recently found a corpse there…” 

4. - “How about Land’s End? I’ve heard it’s a primo *makeout spot.*” [Wink.]

5. - “Actually, I’m not sure if this was a good idea after all.” [Change your mind.] 

YOU - “Why not right here?” 

GARTE, THE CAFETERIA MANAGER - He laughs uproariously. 

RHETORIC - I told you!

GARTE, THE CAFETERIA MANAGER - After catching his breath, he replies. “Alright, why not? It’s not like I’d want those union boys running amok here without someone around to keep an eye on them, drunk as they are.”

SUGGESTION - And *I* told *you*! 

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Oh my god, both of you shut up! We’re well on our way to getting *laid*. 

KIM KITSURAGI - “Khm.”

COMPOSURE [Easy: Success] - He does an excellent job of hiding it, but you can tell the lieutenant is deeply uncomfortable to still be witnessing this conversation.

KIM KITSURAGI - “Detective, this is getting a bit too personal for my tastes. I will meet you here later to complete our interview with the Hardie Boys. Please, try not to take too long. We *do* still have an unsolved murder on our hands.” He exits the Whirling. 

1. - “Awkward…”

2. - “Let’s get the music going!” [Take out the tape player.]

YOU - “Let’s get the music going!” 

HARMON WOWSHI - As you place the tape player down on the bar, it dawns on you - you don’t actually have any tapes. 

1. - “I’m sorry, I forgot I didn’t have any tapes with me…”

2. - “Oopsie! Looks like I don’t have any tapes.”

3. - “Must have left my tapes in my room, let me go get them” [Lie, then think of a solution on the fly]

YOU - “Oopsie! Looks like I don’t have any tapes.”

GARTE, THE CAFETERIA MANAGER - He sighs, clearly holding himself back from rolling his eyes as well. “You don’t need any tapes *or* the tape player. If we’re staying here, I can just use the Whirling’s sound system.” Blocked by the bar  from your field of view, he gets a tape going, and music fills the room. 

WHIRLING IN RAGS - You look around the first floor of the hostel cafeteria. Fortunately for you, it’s far from peak hours, and the room is largely empty. The Hardie Boys are in their usual booth, drinking and conversing loudly. A few men sit scattered at tables in the main space. That strange man in the blonde wig and sunglasses and his companion, the horse faced woman, sit near the stairs. The smoker on the balcony leans against a wall, watching everything unfold. 

GARTE, THE CAFETERIA MANAGER - “Well, let’s get on with it, shall we?” He comes out from behind the bar, clearly making a beeline for one of the more isolated tables. 

MAN WITH SUNGLASSES - As you two pass by, he shoots up from his seat, face turning red. “I can’t believe this shit! A murder investigation is still ongoing, and you’re out here wasting time wooing the bartender.”

HORSE FACED WOMAN - “Jean, please calm down.” she hisses through clenched teeth.  She moves to place a reassuring hand on his arm, but he shakes her off. 

GARTE, THE CAFETERIA MANAGER - He looks exasperated. You already know what he’s going to say before he can open his mouth. 

1. - [Half light - Legendary 14] Cut him off. 

2. - [Say nothing, let him talk.] 

HALF LIGHT [Legendary: Success] - Are you going to let this guy intrude on your date like that? SHUT HIM DOWN. 

YOU - “He’s *not* a bartender, he’s the *cafeteria manager*!”

GARTE, THE CAFETERIA MANAGER - He looks at you, eyebrows raised.

EMPATHY [Challenging: Success] - He wasn’t expecting you to come to his defense, but it’s a welcome surprise. 

MAN WITH SUNGLASSES - “Bartender, cafeteria manager, what’s the *fucking* difference when he’s not the case you’re here to investigate! I’ve had enough of this.” He storms out, the horse faced woman chasing after him. 

GARTE, THE CAFETERIA MANAGER - “...Thanks.”

COMPOSURE [Easy: Success] - It takes a lot for him to say it.

GARTE, THE CAFETERIA MANAGER - He takes a seat and you join him on the bench. “Sorry to cause any friction between you and your… colleague?” 

EMPATHY [Trivial: Success] - He’s just as unsure about the nature of the relationship between the man in the sunglasses and yourself as you are, it would seem. 

1. - “He’s some kind of firefighter, or animal control agent, or male nurse… no idea what’s got his panties in such a bunch”

2. - “I’m pretty sure he must be a fellow superstar.”

3. - “I don’t *think* he’s my colleague. But really I’ve got no idea, what with the whole ‘drinking myself into oblivion’ thing, you know?”

YOU - “I don’t *think* he’s my colleague. But really I’ve got no idea, what with the whole ‘drinking myself into oblivion’ thing, you know?”

GARTE, THE CAFETERIA MANAGER - He scoffs. “Believe me, I know, Kind of hard to forget, with all the damage you’ve caused.” The bitterness you’d gotten so accustomed to hearing in his voice is surprisingly absent. 

SAVOIR FAIRE [Medium: Failure] - You should say something *cool* right now, really go in for the kill now that he seems to be warming up to you. 

VOLITION [Trivial: Success] - No, the whole point of this was to listen to some tapes. Shut up and listen to the tape. 

1. - “You know, you should’ve seen me shoot that body down from the tree. *Kablam*! Down in a single shot. [Shoot your finger pistols to demonstrate.] It was pretty disco, if I do say so myself.”

2. - [Say nothing.]

WHIRLING IN RAGS: The two of you sit in comfortable silence, letting the music wash over you. As the minutes pass, you realize that while you remember that you *like* The Etenniers, you don’t actually *remember* any of their songs. With the exception, of course, of The Smallest Church in Saint Saens, which you *totally* rocked on karaoke. 

PERCEPTION (HEARING) [Easy: Success] - Just as this thought crosses your mind, you notice a lyric that strikes you as familiar: “Hail holy queen of the sea, you’re whirling in rags, you’re vast and you’re sad.”

LOGIC [Medium: Success] - This is the song where Garte got the Whirling’s name from! 

1. - “Hey, this is Hail Holy Queen, right? The song you named this place after?”

2. - Don’t say anything about it.

YOU - “Hey, this is Hail Holy Queen, right? The song you named this place after?”

GARTE, THE CAFETERIA MANAGER - “Yes.” He sighs almost wistfully, looking around the room. “Feels like that was a lifetime ago.”

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - Hearing this song makes him thoughtful, almost nostalgic. 

CONCEPTUALIZATION {Trivial: Success] - It’s a trip down memory lane - the kind of journey you’re wholly unfamiliar with, in your current state. 

1. - “Sorry, I didn’t mean to potentially bring up any bad memories.” 

2. - “Seems like this song really takes you back. I wish I could go back like that, but inside my head it’s all just a void, and the smell of chewing gum…” 

3. - “Fourteen years ago, you said before?”

YOU - “Fourteen years ago, you said before?”

GARTE, THE CAFETERIA MANAGER - He looks back at you, appearing surprised that you remembered this detail. “That’s right. I’ve been with the Whirling for nearly half the time I’ve been alive. Of course, we had ample time apart while I was occupied with the many other cafeterias I manage. Still, it’s strange to think about - the responsibility of naming a place like this, at that age.”

COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] - And the many other responsibilities taken on far too early, he leaves unsaid. 

INLAND EMPIRE [Trivial: Success] - The thought makes you wonder - what were *you* doing half a lifetime ago?

1. - Already making preparations for the gloaming, most likely. 

2. - The barbell in the Doomed Commercial Area felt so familiar in my hands… I probably *was* a weightlifter. 

3. - Partying hard during the disco heyday, baby! 

4. - Probably in the early days of establishing myself as a superstar. 

INLAND EMPIRE - Probably *not*. 

#texticles #disco elysium #de #harry du bois #lawrence garte #garte the cafeteria manager #harrygarte #my writing

[borahaerhy]

D-Day is an absolute masterpiece; let's discuss.

Obscenely long description of each of the songs under the cut

TL;DR: I'm an emotional wreck and this is the best album I've ever heard for so many reasons.

Haegeum??? That MV??? Never wanted to quit my job and start a gang that bullied the rich and steals their money more in my life (and trust me, that's something I've wanted to do since I was like 13). Yoongi is the only rich man I'd ever let lecture me about capitalism. He can do it all day every day. This is a fucked system, but thank you for turning me on while lecturing me about it and murdering people with some dirty chopsticks 🥴

D-Day is absolutely sick, 100% exactly what I'd expect from him. How a song can go so hard and still be so poetic to me is just insane. The beat is SICKENING. The chorus? CATCHY. 10/10 song, perfect opener to the album and set's the tone for the rest that's coming in an amazing way.

HUH?! killed me. We open the song with "what the shit do you know about me" and bro? Nothing, ion know shit about fuck, but you got me all the way fucked up with that attitude. Hoseok?? THE "HUH"S EVERYWHERE?? dead. deceased. The beat? Would literally sell my soul to be able to be in the studio when that man makes anything. I went to school to be an audio engineer, I've seen the way people put music together and create these catchy ass beats and have even made a few of my own, but FUCK BRO THERE'S NOTHING BETTER THAN THIS MAN IN THE STUDIO.

^^That goes for every song, not just Huh, but I just thought that it was important for EVERYONE to know that I'd sacrifice my firstborn child just to watch this man work.

AMYGDALA had me in tears. I was literally sobbing reading the lyrics. There are no words I can say that will accurately express how I feel about this song. This song has been out for less than 24 hours and I already feel so close to it, I can't even begin to describe it. The way most of the instruments fall out in the pre-chorus just so they can all come back in the chorus for that intensity with him basically yelling the lyrics is just *chef's kiss*.

SDL Is so cute and heartbreaking at the same time. The chorus is everything, so beautiful. Talk about bitter sweet lyrics, I'm eating that shit up. His vocals are absolutely outstanding, that "I'm thinking 'bout you" is making me so delulu you have no idea.

People Pt. 2 has already been out, but man that song is gorgeous. IU's vocals are such a great contrast to Yoongi's rap, and when they harmonize I wanna start crying whY DO THEY SOUND SO GOOD??!

I'M NOT KIDDING YOU WHEN I SAY I WAS CRYING, LEGIT SOBBING THE FIRST TIME I HEARD POLAR NIGHT. The instrumental is so uniquely Yoongi, and makes you feel so much. Yoongi is one of the only artists whos music makes me feel what they feel; and this song is the best representation of that. Everytime i listen to it I have to stop myself from crying and it has nothing to do with the lyrics. I cried before I even knew what the song was about, just because that's how good of a composer and producer he is. Genuinly one of the best songs I've ever heard.

I've never had an interlude make me feel so much. He's perfected the art of making his music invoke the emotions of his listeners and there's nothing more perfect than a minute-and-a-half-long interlude with no words in it that's still able to do that. Incredible.

Snooze is honestly one of the best thing's to have ever graced this planet if i'm being 100% rn. I know I keep talking about the emotion of the music but broooo. And the Woosung feature? His voice is amazing and is already so raw and emotional and paired with this song I just cannot. The lyrics make me want to sob, which I will probably do later when I get off work. And the the reference back to So Far Away? I'm on the floor someone please hug me.

Yoongi's vocals go fucking crazy in Life Goes On. If this was my introduction to Yoongi I would 100% believe that he's a singer and has been his whole life. The pure raw talent of this man will never cease to amaze me.

In conclusion, I love Min Yoongi with my whole chest and I hope he knows how much his music helps people, because it really, really helps. I can never even fully express just how this album alone helps me, that's not even speaking about all his other solo projects and the hundreds of songs he's worked on throughout his career.

If you read all of that I love u and I hope u have a spectacular day.

#D-Day #Yoongi #Min yoongi #agust d #suga #he pours his heart and soul into every track #or maybe it's just crack #idk #but either way #I will never get over this album #crying sobbing throwing up #haegeum #life goes on #snooze #polar night #interlude: dawn #Amygdala #people pt.2 #huh?! #SDL

[mossy-green-aka-ferrythem]

Man I can't get over how fucking "Silly Billy" from "Friday Night Funkin'" is so insanely fucking good. Like it feels kind of embarrassing to admit to enjoying FNF music because of a variety of factors, but it can be really fucking good. Especially Silly Billy. Holy shit this song.

Like holy shit they mastered the medium of FNF music for this.

All the beeps and boops and what not don't feel like just noise, it all harmonizes so beautifully.

All of it fully coming together in the end, which is fucking beautiful. Just the way it goes... ooooooohhHHHHHHHHHH

I'LL MAKE

YOU SAYYYYYYY

HOW PROUUUUUUUUD

YOU ARE OF ME!!!

SO STAYYYYY

AWAKE

JUST LONG

ENOUGH TO SEE

MY WAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!

MY WAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!

#friday night funkin #fnf #silly billy #hit single real #silly billy fnf

[horseplunko]

So as a giant fan of Joey Bateys portrail of Dandelion in The Witcher as well as his wonderful singing voice I found out today that he is in a band called The Amazing Devil. Now I'm sitting here and wondering why the fuck I never looked him/his work up earlier because god, their music is insanely beautiful. It hits the part of me that loves anything medieval and folky just right. It reminds me of all the medieval markets I've been to as a kid and still regularly go to, all the old houses and castle ruins I've visited and adored, all the stories and historical facts I've been told by my family or learned about over the years. Three albums and not a single bad song. Him and Madeleine Hyland harmonize so wonderfully together, I can't tell who I adore more. It also made me realise that Batey IS Dandelion, no one else could've possibly done it better. He's basically a bard straight out of the Middle Ages. If a future season of the show should include Priscilla, please give Hyland the part, Netflix.

Regardless of if you've seen the show or not, please check their music out. It comes straight from the heart and will go straight into your heart as well.

#music #joey batey #madeleine hyland #medieval #the amazing devil #the witcher #dandelion #jaskier #netflix #my post

[this-acuteneurosis]

Okay but it’s important to me to say that you absolutely have a right to be and write in the Star Wars fandom regardless of how much of the source material you have consumed

gatekeeping in fandom is the worst. The absolute worst. in the same way that we can love and appreciate fic written before a series finished even years after it’s no longer canon compliant, we can love and appreciate fic by someone who hasn’t consumed the entire source material. how can we say someone isn’t able to write fic until they’ve finished it?? Even if they never finish it?? Especially in something so extensive as Star Wars.

Star Wars canon is a hodge podge anyway—setting aside the Disney reboot, even the extended universe was a mess of retconning. The movies themselves were a mess of retconning. The beautiful and wonderful thing about having so much material is that you can cherry pick what you like. DLB is canon to the original 6 movies, but even if it wasn’t it’s still a fucking amazing story.

You don’t have to watch the other Star Wars stuff to belong here. You don’t even have to like the original Star Wars stuff to belong here. The fact that you have a story to tell with these characters is enough of a membership card.

Can people want to see their favorites show up? Can they be disappointed/upset at the fact that your versions of them aren’t the canon versions? Sure, but that’s their feelings. You’ve been more than clear enough that you’re working from the movies, and we’re fucking lucky to have you here, writing, in exactly the way you do.

There’s a space in this fandom for the uber nerds who have read and watched every last piece of Star Wars media and bring all those details together in ingenious ways. There’s also a space in this fandom for people who have read or watched (1) Star Wars thing and caught the bug. And there’s a space in this fandom for everyone in between.

(…that was more ranty than I intended but I cannot express to you how much my heart jolts every time I see a notification email for you in my inbox. Sometimes a new DLB chapter turns my day around. You are a gift to this fandom.)

Thank you so much! (*^_^*) I really do appreciate the support.

And I have to say that overall, I've been treated very well by people engaging with me and with DLB. My worries are often disproportionate to reality, and I knew when I started posting Like Fire that getting at least some...disgruntled(?) feedback was just guaranteed and I needed to develop a thicker skin for those moments because when you engage online, people saying something that can hurt your feelings is just...inevitable.

Regardless of canon compliance, just based on subscription numbers and how many enthusiastic comments I get per chapter, I know the reception of DLB is just overall positive for those who choose to engage with it.

And I do want to engage back with people reading my story, and even share my thoughts and feelings on why some aspects of canon make it in or don't. I'm just a worrier by nature, so I'm often careful and reticent preemptively, especially on the internet. I'm getting more comfortable in this space and I hope I can keep engaging more in spite of my old habits. But I still definitely retreat like a snail with a poked eye back into my little shell when people get...enthusiastic about correcting me. Those infrequent times it does happen.

(Really though, I am so, so glad when people talk about how DLB just brings them so much joy by existing. Like, why else do we create art but to create feelings between otherwise unreachable souls that want to harmonize so badly? What greater joy is there than to reach out and feel someone reach back?)

#people are so kind #canon what canon #Don't Look Back

[anotherdaveyjacobs]

Last night I saw a local production of Newsies

here are my notes!! (1000000/10, this was AMAZING)

the opening was so funny because they read the theatre rules like headlines (turn off your phone, etc) but the best one was about using the emergency exits and not rushing the stage, because of the fire curtain, it would be "great for readership, bad for you" 💀

important things to note: jack, davey, katherine, and race are played by college students. crutchie and buttons are played by 8th graders. the rest of the newsies, the delanceys, spot, bill, and darcy are all played by high school students. les is played by a 5th grader. the adults are played by adults.

(i didn't know any of this until minutes before the show, but they were on par with a full cast of adults imo)

tommy boy, henry, splasher, mush, ike, jo jo, and finch are all played by girls!! they did amazing

Pulitzer's cabinet is also all women!!!

When Jack is running from the Delanceys in the beginning, he did this cute little jump and wink at the audience, ran off, and when he came back he shushed the audience like we were gonna tell the Delanceys where he went

Race forgot his line ("don't worry kid it rubs right off") so Jack jumped in and said it for him

Buttons had little buttons sewn all over his suspenders and it was adorable

Medda was AMAZING oh my god I loved her so much

the bowrey beauties costumes matched hers, it was gorgeous

Watch What Happens was AMAZING. Katherine's actress sounded just like Kara Lindsay it's uncanny. She starts at her little desk and then moves her typewriter to Pulitzer's desk to get her inspiration. She also goes to take a drink of the alcohol on his desk, but puts it down once she smells it

During Jack's speech before the fight, the Delanceys are making fun of him (pretending to cry, yawning, etc.)

The fight scene was extremely short (no real pause between the start of the fight and the police showing up) but it was still really good

Crutchie gets carried away over a shoulder like a sack of potatoes (it was so fucking funny, I really struggled not to laugh)

Snyder gets face to face with Jack at the end of the strike but just has this evil laugh right in Jack's face before Jack runs away

Santa Fe??? CHILLS. he was SO GOOD. he pauses to heave breaths like he's crying and i.

Mr. Jacobi thought he was hilarious with his "fish in the desert" comment and repeated it to himself as he walked offstage

This production it was "there's a headline even Race could sell" 💀 poor Race (there was no Elmer in this show)

KONY was amazing. the bit where Katherine and Les have their little tap competition happens and then they like do a few twirls together it was so cute

Letter from the Refuge was excellent, Crutchie was on the top bunk with two newsies on the bottom. When the song swells the first time, they're gesturing at each other like neither wanted to be the one to tell him to shut up, it was amazing

During WWH Reprise when Jack calls Pulitzer a snake, he reaches back and grabs a fist full of Davey's shirt, who then has to get Jack's attention, and Jack smooths it down all apologetic like. love it

Also during WWH Reprise, DAVEY is the one who sings the "we've got Jack" line

Spot's voice was AMAZING

Jack doesn't shove or almost hit Les during the rally, but during the chaos of everyone running away and calling Jack a traitor and a sellout, Davey and Les are left standing in the middle of an empty stage looking lost and betrayed. STUNNING

Something To Believe In was really good, they harmonized so well together, Jack really belted the last "me" at the end and his voice just. ugh i loved it

Jack tried to spit shake Roosevelt so Davey and Spot LEAPT forward to grab his hand and stop him. Davey wiped Jack's hand with his hand, and then wiped his hand on his pants, and Davey and Spot were talking quietly amongst themselves while gesturing at Jack. iconic

"He doesn't do happiness does he" and Katherine shook her head like "yeah no"

Jack's mocking of Pulitzer "it's a compromise we can all live with" was perfect

Roosevelt had the funniest fucking fake moustache, it was this big black thing oh my god, i went back to the IG to check and he was NOT wearing it in the photo they posted, no idea what that was about lmao

Anyway the whole show was amazing and today's the last day of it, so I'm really glad I caught it when I did