#alice in chains imagine

[easytiger-xo]

✦ Supernatural Icon 7" Vinyl ⟡ Jumpsuit Variant ✦ Includes:

⟡ 7" Vinyl Featuring Music from the CW's hit show, Supernatural, Season Two - Icon Episode - Folsom Prison Blues. ⟡ Limited to 1,500 copies.

𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝑺𝒖𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒂𝒍 𝑭𝒐𝒍𝒔𝒐𝒎 𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝑩𝒍𝒖𝒆𝒔 (spotify) ♬⋆.˚

if you're still here.. hi! ♡ Welcome to the Icon Series. this idea hit me. we need 7" vinyls for our favorite episodes that have kick ass songs. this was the first one that came to my mind.. when Rooster plays, i get chills.

i have so many ideas!.. Nightshifter!.. O Death!.. Baby!.. anyways, hope you enjoy.

credit & links:

✦ more vinyl mockups here.

⟡ dividers by @easytiger-xo.

[aishnico]

can i request something for Layne Staley, make it super hot?

#𝙇𝘼𝙔𝙉𝙀 𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙇𝙀𝙔: 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨

» summary: you and layne managed to get on the bus to have some fun before the boys came back but nothing goes as planned right? :)

» word count: 2.1k

» warnings: smut [exhibitionism, oral sex [m! and f! receiving)], grammar issues

» a/n: i tried my best to write this (which took unnecessarily too long, lol) also i’m convinced that i can’t write smut (i will most probably stop writing it) so i really hope it’s hot enough for you 😩🤞

» part 1

it was a miracle for you that you two got to the bus before the boys. maybe they’ve lost their way back here while being drunk? you didn’t know and couldn't care less when layne was dragging you inside in a hurry then pressing you against the nearest wall, trapping you with his arms. before he could connect your lips, you acted first by putting your warm hands to his flushed cheeks, pulling him closer to yourself.

he hummed and wrapped his arms around your waist, putting his hands inside your top, caressing your skin in slow movements. his tongue slipped through your mouth, now each other’s tongues twining together heatedly. he pressed himself to you closer and his kisses became hungrier, basically devouring you as if he'd been craving it for far too long. well, he wasn’t entirely wrong. you only managed to share kisses this morning while the guys were still snoring in their sleep.

you bit his lower lip, causing him to moan softly and stopping his little dominance over the kiss. you smiled slyly as you gently pushed him down to the red, firm couch that was not too far from you.

his eyes following yours in excitement as you slowly climbed on top of him while taking off your top and shorts, tossing them to the ground without any care. you helped him to take off as well then started another breathless make out session while wrapping your arms around his neck. his hands found their place on your waist again, this time pinching your skin there and there playfully.

the thickness of the air only caused the kiss to become more and more intense. the sounds of your shared sloppy kisses made him groan and you whine. your breaths hitched then pulled out from the kiss. you started to pant loudly while he gently moved your body to the couch, kneeling to his knees.

“as much as i would love to make out with you forever, we should hurry up before the boys come back.” he planted a kiss on your inner thigh, not bothering to take off your panties as he moved them aside with his fingers. you held them still while he was taking off his belt and jeans rapidly. now he was standing naked except for his boxers. you bit your lip and wanted to take them off too…

but you were already late.

you heard someone’s steady footsteps approaching the bus. both of you froze, he tossed your shirt to you and wanted to dress back but there was no time for that so he just hid under the table while you were still sitting on the couch, only managed to put your shirt back. fortunately, the table was low enough to someone notice someone’s figure under there. to your surprise, someone who you really didn’t expect to see entered inside, looking for someone. then your eyes met.

“susan?” your eyes widened and cheeks flushed as you sensed slow circles running around your panties.

“oh? hi [name], didn’t expect to see you here all alone.” she was bewildered to see you as well.

“what are you doing here?” you swallowed hard when you felt layne’s fingers move your panties aside again and a kiss pressed against your clit.

she furrowed her eyebrows. “duh? i’m the manager of the band. it’s my place also but what about you?”

well, definitely not a great mood to chit-chat for both of you. especially when you tried your best not to squirm when he started to suck on your clit slowly. your reaction was adorable to him, trying not to embarrass yourself in front of the band’s manager while he was rewarding himself with your sweet juices which he wanted to taste days ago but the conditions weren’t just good.

“sorry,” you mumbled in a soft tone, the situation which was going under the table only weakened you. “i just wanted to hang out with boys b-but ah..!”

that little bastard…

her eyebrows raised in a little bit of confusion. “but what, are you okay?”

“y-yeah” you have already started to sweat, quickly wiping with your hand. the sensation of his warm tongue entering your dripping hole caused you to accidentally moan, you swore he was smirking like an idiot right now. “but they’re not here, as you see.” you finished your sentence quickly. gosh, this was just so embarrassing…

“well, i can keep you company.” she smiled and approached you. your eyes widened again and you felt your cheeks burn. susan couldn’t see what was happening down there but if she bent down, she would witness everything. and the thought of it made your velvety walls clench around his tongue. this caused him to move inside you with a little bit of difficulty, but with the following movements, he eventually shoved his tongue deeper.

susan wanted to sit in front of you but she would feel his presence if she moved her legs forward.

“susan!” you suddenly shouted her name when his tongue found that spot which would make you see starts. she stopped at her place with shock and confusion.

“i lied h-hah… i’m not okay.” you buried your reddened face in your hands now. it was getting harder to talk properly when he continued to circumlate inside your walls.

susan stood in front of you and removed your hands to look at your embarrassed face properly. “yeah, i can see that.” she murmured with worry on her face. she touched your forehead for a couple of seconds, her eyebrows furrowing again. “hey i’m not an expert but i think you have a fever right now.”

“w-what?” you tried to sound panicked. she noticed and quickly tried to ease you. “hey hey, you’re gonna be alright okay? do you have any paracetamol or ibuprofen with you?” you shook your head as no. there was a painful expression on your face but only to hide the intense pleasure you have been receiving.

“okay, i’m not sure if I can find something in the bus nor do i remember if they are even here. i’ll just ask someone around here. just wait for me alright?” you nodded in response.

“i’ll be back!” she shouted before leaving the bus, finally making you exhale deeply in relief. your core tightened and walls clenched around him for the last time before letting yourself go. it was difficult to hold your moans but the boys still could get in in a minute.

layne climbed out of the table. his face was covered with your fluids while looking at you with both amazement and amusement. this caused you to huff in annoyance. susan could discover everything in a second and this cheeky bastard was happy with himself.

“babe, when i tell you you’re the best, i really mean it. don’t you agree with me now?” he placed your thighs around his waist before lifting you, walking towards bunks and carefully placing you on top of his. he quickly lay beside you.

“it scared the shit out of me, layne. i would never want susan to think of me that low, but i liked the adrenaline.” you chuckled to yourself.

“yeah? i’ll almost tell that you’re in love with her. especially when you shouted her name while i was eating you out. it’s like she was doing this to you all along.” he replied in amusement.

“well, she’s hot and i totally get chris now.” then a smirk appeared on your face. he tried to examine your expression then groaned and laughed. “oh no no no. i didn’t know you were that freaky to have such fantasies inside your head.”

“why not? it would be fun.” you also laughed.

“i don’t want to share you with anyone, babe.” his voice got quieter but he was still smiling. he put his hands on your cheeks and when he wanted to kiss you, you heard tired groans and huffing sounds approaching the bus. it must be boys…

and you were right. jerry and mike had to carry sean’s large body all the way here from the party. at this point, they all looked drunk but mike seemed to be the most sober compared to them. jerry wasn’t helping him at all.

suddenly, an idea popped into your mind. you slowly freed yourself from layne and crawled to the edge of the bed, then got under his blanket with a smirk. he looked confused for a second, but when he felt your hands grabbing his waistband he chuckled to himself. it was now your turn huh…

jerry and mike placed sean on the lower bunk which was across from layne’s. both of them sighed and looked at each other tiredly before noticing layne.

“have you been lying there this whole time?” jerry took his shirt off and climbed to the upper bunk where layne was lying down.

“uh-huh,” layne replied. his breath hitched when you tugged down his waistband enough to free him. he was already semi hard from eating you out, especially thinking the possibility of susan catching you two also made his adrenaline too high.

“did [name] dump you or what?” mark asked playfully while heading to the mini kitchen part to take out the snacks which he and layne hid from sean and jerry.

“she uh … she must be with susan.” your thumb started to run over his tip, following the circle movements after then. you pulled back your thumb, only to start to stroke him slowly, which made him gasp in the middle of the sentence.

“we thought you guys were still hanging out at the party.”

“we were leaving not much after you, then we ran into her. they started to talk endlessly so i left them there.” as you pumped him faster, his voice started getting quieter and weaker. he threw back his head when you took him into your mouth.

“it’s strange that they’re still not here, tomorrow is a big day.” jerry mumbled to himself but layne heard him anyway.

“then go to sleep already.” he exhaled sharply, trying to sound annoyed but in reality he was just trying to hide how good he was feeling from the way you were sucking him deep and slow, tongue circling with precision.

jerry straightened up and lowered his head to look at layne. “oh? did we just wake you up from your beauty sleep? we are soo sorry, but we were too busy carrying this lazy ass giraffe here!” he then rolled back into his previous position.

layne couldn’t reply. and if he did, he would let out a sound that would draw all eyes on him. so he pressed his lips firmly while biting at the same time. he closed his eyes, his breath hitching every time you take him deeper inside your throat.

“layne?”

“y-yes?” quickly, he closed his mouth with two hands to pretend that he was just yawning, but he whimpered unintentionally. he just couldn’t help it, not when you bobbed your head back and forth faster suddenly. stretching your arms forward to massage his heavy balls while licking his veins on his shaft only added more pleasure to him. he was close, you felt it.

“are you out?”

“soon,” he mumbled to himself.

mike picked up a pack of potato chips and walked back to the boys, climbing on top of his bunk. “you okay, man?” he asked to layne.

“uh-huh,” his thighs shaking under the blanket. anyone who watched him could think that he was getting hyperthermia.

“don’t worry, your girlfriend will be soon here.” jerry joked with a sleepy voice, he was about to drift out in a second.

“she’s not- ” he grunted. “my g-girlfriend. huh…” his balls tightened, cock twitching in your mouth before coming inside. you swallowed every drop and pressed a last kiss on his tip. with relief, he swallowed hard and removed his hands, now trying to catch his breath. gladly jerry dozed off and mike was already busy with digging in chips.

“i’m back, [name]!” susan came back with medical drugs. mike looked at her confused, and jerry opened his eyes to see what was happening.

“…um, she’s not here though.” mike looked around.

“what do you mean? she was sitting there just a few minutes ago!” susan pointed at the couch where you were sitting shortly before. mike lifted his eyebrow, looking at jerry.

“what’s these for?” he asked pointing the drugs with his chin. susan lowered her head to look at them. “i found some medicine for her because i thought she was having a fever but as you can see...”

“you can give them to layne so they won’t go to waste. i think he’s having a fever too.” jerry mumbled before yawning loudly.

“well, isn’t it a coincidence…” she sighed and put her arms on her waist.

just what have you guys gotten yourself into…

[strawberrybyers]

miss alicent “the queen in chains” hightower being ordered by rhaenyra to bend the knee to her and alicent unwillingly does so. and once she’s on her knees, rhaenyra sits down on the iron throne and orders her to stay like that but encourages her to come closer and taunts her that alicent will never be free no matter how much she desires it or believes someone on the inside will save her. the more rhaenyra says it in a stern tone, the closer her face gets to alicent’s. obviously they’re just looking into each other’s eyes now while heavy breathing which turns into a make out session, but rhaenyra tells alicent she has to stay on her knees and says “show loyalty to your queen” so then alicent eats rhaenyra out while she’s still on the iron throne. omg.

[callme2heaven]

Welcome to my Blog

Hello! My name is Isa, I am 27 and I also run @metallicaislife.

I adore the Seattle Grunge scene and the men behind it so I've decided to start writing for them.

Feel free to send in headcanons or chat! :)

Thank you for checking out my blog!

There will be smut occasionally, MDNI with those posts.

Masterlist

Chris is so pretty🥹

[tenderyellowbluefics]

Hi, could you please do something fluffy-smutty about Jerry Cantrell please and thank you :)

Sickness In Seattle // J.C

Thanks for the request!! I'll be honest I've had this idea for a little bit now and I just didn't have it in me to do smut I'm sorry!! But I'll def do something smutty with him in the future!!

Summary: When y/n wakes up with the flu, it is Jerry's duty to take care of her.

Warnings: None, just fluff!

Requests are open!

Your eyes slowly flutter open, scanning the room of your and Jerry's downtown Seattle apartment. You wince at the light as you start to become aware of the apparent headache you have. You look over at Jerry, still sound asleep. Long blonde hair thrown across his face, his bare upper half seeming to glow in the morning sunlight. You smile softly and swallow, only to wince in pain once more. This time you let out a groan. Apparently, it was louder than you thought as it caused Jerry to stir.

Incoherent mumbles come from him as he pulls you closer to him. And for the first time ever, you detest the feeling of his fingers on your skin. Even your skin feels sore, and the body heat coming from him makes you feel even worse. You try to pull away slightly and pull the covers off of you. This causes Jerry's eyes to shoot open. You’d never pull away from him like this.

"What's wrong?" He asks, his eyebrows furrowing. His voice is deep and raspy, dripping like honey from his mouth. But it’s still not enough to soothe you from the agony you’re in.

"I don't feel good," you mutter, your voice whiney and congested.

He sighs softly and brings the back of his hand to your forehead. "You're burning up."

You groan at his words. "No, I can't be sick." You protest as you try to sit up in bed. But as you do the room seems to spin.

"Woah there," Jerry says with a soft chuckle, sitting up next to you. "Whining won't make it any better."

You shoot him a look and roll your eyes before laying back down with a huff.

"I'm way too busy to be sick right now." You whine, looking up at him with a pout.

"Baby, it won't kill you to take one day to rest." He says softly, letting his right hand trail up your arm soothingly. "How about I go get you some medicine?"

You merely nod, not wanting to talk and inflame your throat any more than it is.

He hops out of bed and pulls on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt before striding over to your side of the bed.

"I'll be right back." He says, leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead.

Upon hearing the front door close you huff once more and roll over on your side. Since the day is ruined you decide it's best to at least get a little more sleep in.

You wake up a little later to Jerry's soft voice saying your name and nudging your side. You flutter open your eyes to see him standing over you.

"It's DayQuil time!" he sings, pulling an orange bottle of medicine out of a plastic bag.

"You really couldn't have gotten me the pill form?" You ask, disgusted at the thought of having to drink medicine.

"You know, thanks would suffice." He jokes.

"Thank you, baby." You say with a small chuckle.

He pours the medicine into the small shot glass-type top before handing it to you to drink.

You shudder slightly, quickly knocking back the medicine and swallowing, scrunching up your face in disgust. Jerry chuckles at this response and hands you a bottle of orange juice he also got at the store to chase it.

"That bad?"

"That bad." You say after taking a drink from the bottle of OJ.

He shakes his head with a laugh before kicking his shoes off and climbing into the bed. You scooch over as close as you can get to him and lay your head on his chest, in desperate need of body heat. The sickness causing your body temperature to fluctuate from being on fire to being ice cold.

He wraps both arms around you, placing his head on yours. He grabs the remote and flicks the TV on before deciding on some random sitcom.

"This is shit television, but I don't plan on being awake much longer anyways." He says with a yawn.

"Don't you have stuff to do today?" You question with a giggle.

"Hey, if you get to take today off so do I!" He chuckles. "No, but in seriousness, I did have stuff to do today, but it can wait; I gotta take care of my baby."

You raise your head up to kiss him on the cheek, earning a small smile from him. You lay your head back down and doze off to the sound of his heartbeat. Selfishly, you kind of hope you're still sick tomorrow so you both can stay home again.

[dulcewrites]

Seek and Destroy

Summary: Alicent swears she is not naturally a cruel person. Any semblances of cunning or coldness has been taught, slowly and surely. A gift bestowed to her from the age of ten and five. Something she was weened onto like a babe that suckles for milk from its mother. She has learned at the feet at the best - or maybe the worst. King’s Landing has fallen to Rhaenyra. Her children are scattered around the realm. Lives have been lost already. Alicent’s heart has finally callused. Nothing left but a shell and the venom that seeps out of it.

A/N: This is just something I have been working on. It is not finished obvi. I don’t know if I will expand on it. If I do I will probably post it to ao3

Her father’s blood had splattered into her mouth when she cried out. At first, Alicent did not want to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing her body shake in worry. Bones rattling together under neath sheathed of silk. Green silks. Or let them take glee in seeing fear in her eyes. She wanted to stand tall as the execution begun. Her father being first to go was for a reason.

Even in his doom, Otto Hightower managed to make his presence looming.

Alicent wanted not to shed a single tear. But then she felt ten and eight again. Just a girl with two children, and burden pressed firmly on her chest to the point where it was hard to breathe. He was unruly and fickle but without him, she would be alone… again.

Her brain settled between ‘This is all his fault. His debt comes due, as it should’ and ‘Daddy, please look me. Tell me you love me, that I made you proud despite of how it ends for us’.

But all her father told her was to look away. As if to shield her from a terror that had already came. A terror he brought. The horror was on their doorstep now. She was rutted in each night against her wishes; she bore four children - ones she could not save. They bore her grandchildren that she loved in a way she was not able to love her own children. Maybe if she could not help her own, she could do better with the littlest ones.

Jaehaerys. Oh, my poor Jaehaerys.

Everyone is gone. If not in person, in spirit.

Gwayne is gone. Her brother dragged into this mess. When he had arrived in King’s Landing, she has almost missed him amongst the other Oldtown knights. Her heart had sunk lower that she thought it could at the thought of not even recognizing her own kin. His face was one that was no longer burned in her brain.

Helaena’s mind and heart has been rotted from the inside out. On a good day, Alicent can force her to eat and drink. She bathes her daughter as if she still a babe. There is no light in Helaena’s eyes.

Alicent’s mouth feels as if a pile of sand has been dumped in her mouth if she thinks too long about how cold she was when Aemond left for the Riverlands. He gave her a kiss a cheek and muttered a pitiful sorry.

It was all he had said since coming back from Storm’s End. Different variations of the same thing. He never begged for forgiveness from the Gods but from her.

Sorry, mother. I’m so sorry mother.

If she could crush skulls with her bare hands, Alicent would. Not off strength, she’s always been a slip of a woman. But off the hatred that seemed into her bones.

She was prepared to die. She thinks she has been from the moment Viserys said he would marry her. From the moment the maester congratulated her on being pregnant with Aegon. Death had been a thing she even welcomed at times. When the lonliness felt too deep, when she could not stomach being called to Viserys chambers at night, when she had to look at her children for too long. She eyed Criston’s sword one too many times to admit. So, when Daemon leers over her with that cruel, ugly smile of his, she straightens her back and sniffs away her tears. He, of course, got the honors to kill her father; a task Alicent is sure he has wanted to do for decades.

It was Daemon who pushed her hair to the side with such gentleness it made her a bit sick. The coolness of Dark Sister pressed softly against her neck.

Alicent says a quick prayer to the Mother for her children. She knows it is to no veil; they were doomed the moment they came out of her. Mayhaps, this is her punishment for bearing them.

She does not sob over herself. Her lot in life has been well accepted. But Alicent wants to claw at her own face, peel back her own flesh so she is frayed out, when she thinks of her kids.

Let the Mother keep them safe as they do what is only imaginable in their wildest nightmares. May the horrors committed not leave them too soiled.

“Wait,” Rhaenyra’s voice calls out in the Grand Hall. It echoes so loud that Alicent flinches, the blade swiping gently against her neck. She still shivers from head to toe.

Daemon huffs, before removing the blade cautiously.

Alicent peers up at the stairs that lead to the Iron Throne. Rhaenyra gestures softly to her husband to come up the stairs. Daemon does not fully sheathe Dark Sister but complies anyway. A piece of Alicent’s hair obstructs her view, but through it, her eyes stay trained on Rhaenyra. Or whoever the person wearing the crown is.

The woman looks like the Rhaenyra. The same long silvery blonde hair styled elaborately on top of her head with the rest hanging in a braid. Her long riding dress is a deep black with red stitching and a red dragon collar. Red and purple dragons snaking their way up her sleeves. The woman has Rhaenyra’s eyes and nose, but Alicent has never felt more confused about who stands at the feet of the Iron Throne. The woman’s mouth pinches the way a young Rhaenyra’s would when she was distressed.

Rhaenyra’s look makes Alicent think of the stories of warrior queen Visenya. Rhaenyra would often laud the might and cunning of her ancestor during their girlhood. After the pain, humiliation, and anger post Aemond losing his eye, Alicent had chucked softly to herself at the thought her son riding the Conqueror Queen’s beloved dragon. Because of course it would be one of her kids to claim the old bitch.

But despite the styling callback, a warrior Rhaenyra is not.

And based on the look of disgust settling on Daemon’s face, he thinks the same of his wife.

He will never see you as an equal, she wants to call out. It does not matter how many crowns you put on your head, how many dragons you claim - you always just be his little niece… a silly woman. The means to his end.

Their conversation reaches a cacophony and Alicent desperately wants to know what it being said. Is Rhaenyra asking him to make it as gruesome as possible? Maybe they will drag her body out in front of the castle for all the small folk to see. A warning for what can happen if they defy their queen. Alicent already knows the heads of those that helped Aegon and his kids escape will be next once they catch them.

Rhaenyra reaches out to grab Daemon’s arm, but he is already down the stairs muttering expletives out his mouth. Alicent hears the word whore, and scoffs internally. She fights back a sad smile that almost forces itself on her face. Not the first time she has heard that, and surely will not be the last. Poor Daemon has never been clever with his insults. They are as simple as he is. She is the nasty deceitful, whore that seduced Viserys and ruined everything. Used her wily, womanly magic, her cunt, to lure the King of the Fucking Seven Kingdoms into submission. She always noticed how Daemon always acted like she stole Viserys from him.

The same way the maidens whose virtue Daemon stole must be whores too. The same way Queen Aemma must have been inadequate since she did not give Viserys what he wanted. Something must have been wrong with Rhea and Laena too. Maybe even Daemon’s own daughters are not enough. Surely, something is wrong with Rhaenyra. Something that makes Daemon’s stomach curdle. Such is the way with men like him.

Viserys will be remembered as a peaceful king, and a gentle man. A king who was so averse to conflict that he raped Alicent for children he then neglected once they came. He was so kind he made sure his first wife died in a pool of blood with nothing but screams of agony and pleas of mercy dying in her lips.

She wonders if Rhaenyra knows that charming story. Would she still have felt safe under the patronage of Viserys if she knew such? Imagine the horror that Alicent felt when she overheard maesters whispering of such when she was pregnant with Aegon.

Alicent is sure Daemon will die being known as a ‘true’ and ‘honest’ warrior. Apparently, there are those that think there is some sort of honor in being upfront about ones rotting heart. As if his cavalier attitude negates the atrocities on his hands. The world has taught Alicent that type of ruthlessness is only tolerated at the hands of a man.

And Alicent, in all her attempts to do right, to keep her head above water, to appease and break herself down into a small enough package that all can accept her, will be known as a whore. A seducer, a scheming bitch that stole the agency of a grown man. She will die being blamed and accused.

It only seemed right she supposed.

Viserys the Peaceful. Daemon the Honest. Alicent… the Whore.

Her confusion mounts when Daemon does not come back to her to finish the job. Instead, he continues walking, right past and leaving the hall in a fit of anger and rage. Alicent knees have begun to ache from being crouched. Rhaenyra clears her throat, and Alicent eyes slowly go back to her. Dark bags rimmed Rhaenyra’s eyes, only drawing more attention to the extremely dark limbal ring that surrounded deep amethyst. When Alicent heard about Lucerys’ death, it had shaken her to her core. Frankly more for Aemond’s sake than for Rhaenyra’s or the boy’s. The thought of peace still naively in her mind. Alicent always seemed to the last one to arrive at the right conclusions. A fatal flaw of hers unfortunately.

You were already ill-fated, you foolish boy! Why make yourself accursed as well!

But when Alicent heard of Jacaerys’ death, she knew what was to come. There are few things a parent loves more than their first born.

…. Alicent had never known what the smell of burning flesh was like till Aegon.

“I have decided to spare your life,” the few people that stood in the hall, her council, begin to whisper to each other. Rhaenyra shifts uncomfortably at the eyes on her. “For the sake of my father, who loved you once.”

Alicent blinks once, then twice, then three times. She is almost a bit disappointed. Rhaenyra has taken so much and now she has taken death off the table too.

And is that what they are calling what Viserys did to her? Love? Rhaenyra could not possibly believe that. Not now after everything. After the way Rhaenyra would so seamlessly twist the knife when she had the chance, when she was backed in a corner. Rhaenyra knew there was no love there. Not for Alicent and definitely not for her children.

The words crawl up her throat before she can stop them. She must know. “And what of my girl? What of Queen Helaena?”

The queen part slips out truly on accident, a panicked slip of the tongue, but Rhaenyra’s mouth curls a bit in a sneer.

If her Helaena is to die at the hands of one of Rhaenyra’s butchers, to meet the same evil fate Jaehaerys did, then Alicent might beg for the sword. Or a rope and one of the high ceilings of the Red Keep.

Something cold and numb flashes behind Rhaenyra’s already hallow eyes. As if she is just now remembering that she had a sister that still occupied the castle.

“The princess will be spared as well.”

Rhaenyra waves a ringed hand at the guard to have Alicent taken away. Before she can even register was has happened, she is dragged away by the arms.

“Let her be bound in a manner fitting of her new station,” Rhaenyra sits in the Irone Throne elegantly as Alicent goes.

Alicent’s frantic eyes look at her father’s limp body one last time. His blood spilled on the ground. His head separated from the rest of him. It is the first and only time Alicent has ever seen her father so… small.

If Otto was alive now, and they were alone, he would tell her that he was right. He said as much after Jaehaerys was killed. Right before Aegon snatched the hand pin off his grandsire’s jacket and screamed at him that all that cunning had gone to waste by Otto being a ‘bastard that was too thick in the head for his own good’. Otto would say they should have had mercenaries go to Dragonstone and do the deed while they had the chance. He would still be alive. As would Gwayne and Jaehaerys. Helaena would not be in a fugue state beyond repair. Alicent’s boys would be home, and well. Daeron could have come back to King’s Landing for a coronation that was not rushed nor interrupted. Aemond would not have blood on his ledger.

Aegon would be king with no one in his path.

You know it. You're no fool and yet you choose not to see it. The time is coming, Alicent. Either you prepare Aegon to rule, or you cleave to Rhaenyra and pray for her mercy.

She stumbles all the way back to the Holdfast with thoughts swirling in her head.

Alicent did not prepare Aegon, the way she should have. But she was not prepared for such things; so how did anyone expect her to know better. How can a child help a child. How does the blind lead the blind. She may not have done what she needed for Aegon, not in that moment. But she refuses to cleave now. Mercy is not a luxury she has been granted for some time.

Have you ever imagined yourself on the Iron Throne?

No, of course not. Alicent can be naive, but never stupid. Never foolish or too hot on herself. Her veins have turned ice cold. She does not have her children the way she would want to. Alicent has never had a dragon to threaten others with. The army at her disposal is elsewhere fighting a futile battle. Not even Criston is here.

She just has herself, and right now that has to be enough. It must be enough.

[creaturefeaster]

what would your music taste be considered like what type of music? ex:rock,pop,country exc

I don't have a solid single taste. I like metal (gothic metal + rock are my faves), country, grunge, and sometimes electric type dubstep.

I like really grungy scifi sounding OSTs too. I listen to the original Starcraft OST so much it's unreal.

[slowdivinqs]

Magnetism

Joel Miller x f!reader

joel photo by dinasawrus on pinterest, banners by cafekitsune

Summary: Having a steamy make out session behind the Tipsy Bison with a certain soft spoken Texan.

Warnings: 18+! There’s NO actual smut, just the make out session. Hidden relationship vibes ( they don’t wanna be caught ). Images in the header are just for aesthetic purposes. Subby Joel vibes but also not, we got a mix of both. Soft!Joel and Jackson!Joel. Can imagine either Pedro or Game Joel.

A/N: I’m back! I was so shocked by the love on my last fic, thank you so much! This one is really rushed and quick - the idea came to me because of a reel on instagram. Yeah.

Do not copy or repost my fics anywhere! No AI bots either, I will find you

Tommy’s put on Alice In Chains again for the fifth time Tonight.

Joel groans against you, but not like how he’s been groaning for the past 20 minutes. He’s irritated this time.

“Goddamnit. Someone oughta knock him over the head.” Joel mutters breathily, scowling at the back entrance to the bar like Tommy will sense his ire through the exposed brick and wood.

You take the time to admire his roused hair. Your head hits the outside wall of the Tipsy Bison with a soft thump, and your eyes are hazy and heavy from the sight of the man in front of you.

Joel Miller. Thee scary, grumpy, tense, asshole, tommy’s-goddamn-brother Joel Miller.

He’s a sight to behold. Flushed cheeks and, cutely, ears. Messy hair from your fingers and unbuttoned collars of typical flannel shirts.

All because you’ve been kissing him. Like teenagers, actually.

You’re not sure why you’re still standing outside the bar in the chilly air instead of being buried under his warm body screaming his name.

Well, that’s a lie. You do know.

It’s the sound he makes when his lips caress yours, the little sharp intake of air through his nose as he tilts his head to the side; nose poking your cheek. The way he groans as you bite his plump bottom lip when you dance your tongue back and forth with his.

The way he holds your waist like you’re all he’s ever wanted like he’s a man obsessed, possessed. Whatever you want to call it.

Your hands come up to rest just under his jaw, cupping behind his ear, and feel his hair tickling the tips of your fingers - guiding him back to look at you.

“Pearl Jam sounds the same sometimes,” you say to him, looking at his kiss swollen lips.

“You must be losin’ your hearin’, darlin’ girl.”

He looks drunk. Not just from Seth’s conspicuous beer, but from your kisses. His eyes are soft-blown wide, locking onto your eyes with a haziness that implies they actually want to flutter shut like they have been doing the moment your lips touch. His eyebrows are semi-lifted, not set in their usual, gravity-demanding scowl.

You run your thumb over his jaw, pulling him back to you so lightly it seems like magnetism. His brows furrow, eyes give in and flutter before he’s molding his lips against yours like it’s a drug. Groaning against your mouth as he rests his clenched fist on the wall just above your head. His other hand coming up to the soft skin underneath your jaw.

The sound of you kissing - the little smack and strangely erotic sound of salivating mouths moving together. His soft moans and heavy breaths pushing against your skin as a huff.

You don’t blame him, you feel drunk on this too.

The weight of your arms feels heavier when you lift them to wrap around Joel’s shoulders. Those damn, broad shoulders. You can feel the muscle of them along that soft inner part of your forearms, Can feel them shift and move as he leans in closer to wrap his arms around your waist and leave no atoms between you, his lips against yours like a lifeline - like it kills him every second they’re not.

He fucking moans when you grip the awkward-length hair on his nape.

You’re broken out of the haze by your screaming lungs, pulling away with a wet smack as you pant. Your fluttery eyes - damn it’s contagious - see your breath move through the cold air. The image of how your make-out must’ve looked from the third person, big bad Joel Miller kiss-drunk and desperate - your panting breaths mingling in the air around your faces as you two make kissing seem like something that is as erotic as straight sex outside of the Jackson bar.

You feel the arousal zing through your body before it drips out of you.

His scruff nuzzles against your neck, leaving the same burn you feel around your lips and cheeks. Everything is tingly.

“Joel, someone is going to come out here,” you whisper into the chill. Those lips of his don’t stop their sloppy caress of your neck, making you turn in his direction and try to contain a little noise you know will make him reckless.

He whines - whines - against your neck, not stopping his ministrations, only pulling back to kiss you again, eat you like it’s what he’s been waiting for his whole life.

“Then come back to my place“ he murmurs, but he’s lost in the haze. Almost as if he’s finally reached that hazy high from your mouth that he keeps coming back for.

You melt into him again, pulling him closer until you can feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest against yours. He’s practically a wall you’re holding onto. Breathing in and molding your mouth around.

There’s a loud squeak and a bang as the bar door opens and knocks against the wall, your hands are still around Joel’s neck as you both look over in surprise. Moments later Tommy’s thrown out right on his ass, which makes Joel laugh immediately.

Tommy looks over with a scowl before looking back to his friends who threw him out.

“C’mon guys!” he huffs, still on the ground

“You’re banned from the jukebox.” Seth grumbles before slamming the door right in Tommy’s face.

It looks like Tommy might go rogue, start a revolution against dictatorship of jukeboxes, but ultimately decides to take his comical frustration out on Joel.

Tommy turns to look at the both of you. Joel is still chuckling slightly, wiping the corner of his eye, still standing right up against you.

“Shut up. You’re busy suckin’ face when I needed backup.” Tommy huffs, wiping stones and dirt off his ass, grumbling to himself, glaring at the door - similarly to his brother - like he could take control of the jukebox with his mind and play Alice In Chains again like a poltergeist.

“Priorities, brother.”

Tommy lovingly gives Joel the finger, before grumbling and walking home, a hand on his probably bruised backside.

Tysm for reading! If you enjoyed pls lmk as well as reblogging! ◡̈

[struwberrii]

Hello, I like your haikyu headcanons and was wondering if you could do tendou headcanons?:)

tendou headcanons ₊˚⊹♡

thank u for the request!! i feel like tendou doesn’t get a lot of love nowadays so this one is for all the tendou fans (•̀ᴗ•́ )و

he def just makes up songs randomly and sings them for you (usually just to make you laugh)

his shoes usually aren’t tied and he never noticed until someone points it out

imagine tendou with a snaggletooth (i saw someone on tiktok say this and CANNOT STOP THINKING ABT IT it so cute)

constantly does impersonations of characters (he’s actually kind of decent)

little trinket collector

chronically picks at his lips and always ends up bleeding

also picks at his nails/fingers

always celebrates your small little wins with you (yaaayyyy!!)

always comes up with silly games to play when you guys are bored

randomly drops lore on you

makes scary faces at kids if they’re staring for too long

i feel like he’d lowkey listen to tommy heavenly6

hates calling during the day but will have a full convo with you through voice messages

does not let anyone pick on you AT ALL like he’ll get super protective and use his ‘scary’ looks to his advantage to freak people out

encourages you to step out of your comfort zone and try new things

some days social anxiety is scared of him, then the next day he’s too anxious to even go outside

constantly begging you to let him do your makeup even if you don’t wear it (he botched you)

but he still gets insecure sometimes and needs to hear praises and reassurance

let’s you style/cut his hair for him

probably had a random pet growing up, like he found a frog or turtle outside and kept it as a pet

draws on his arms and legs when he gets bored

always scares you, like he waits around the corner for you then jumps out and scares you

has a HUGE sweet tooth

i feel like he would have a really bad memory but keeps all important dates written down, don’t ask him what he ate for dinner because he doesn’t remember

sits in the shower

playful teasing as a love language

watches mukbang videos while he eats

genuinely has a hard time voicing how he feels about people so he uses humor to mask his emotions and now nobody takes him seriously

shockingly the best guy to go to when you need to cheer up, and not because he’d make you laugh but he just knows what to say?? if that makes sense

like he tells you what he wishes someone told him when he was in middle school

always makes sure nobody is left out in a group activity

has the craziest diet, like i feel like he’d eat like a toddler

average tendou meal consists of a yoohoo chocolate milk, a pizza lunchable and a handful of grapes and that’s enough to hold him over for the day

sports garfield pajama pants ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

i feel like he’d also listen to alice in chains

but i also feel like he’d listen to gorillaz

his knees are always bruised (prob from volleyball)

has an impressive figure collection of his favorite manga character :3

sorry guys this is like 30% me projecting 70% tendou hcs 😭

[aishnico]

heyy, can i request a short hair layne staley fic where reader is aic producer (she also has her own music career which is doing quite well) and she’s hanging out with layne while they’re at their sound check at the starplex amphitheater may 15 1991 clash of the clans tour and while layne is showing the interviewer the tour bus she’s trying to make some advances on layne (unaware that reader and layne we’re together) and laynes just kind of laughing at her attempts and saying no and that’s when he says he has a girlfriend (but he doesn’t say it’s reader cause they’re staying on the low 🤭) but after the show they walk in the little after party thing with laynes arm over reader’s shoulders and peoples are asking them if they’re a thing and they’re just all chill and quiet about it like not really answering their questions more so just laughing at them and before the sound check a few the interviewers were noticing how flirty layne was with reader 😍😍 and they asked them if they were together but he just laughed (he got flustered 😻) and said next question 😋😍😚

#𝙇𝘼𝙔𝙉𝙀 𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙇𝙀𝙔: 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨

» summary: everybody's eyes were on you and your boyfriend, layne. the funny part was that seeing their expressions every time you deny them about your relationship.

» word count: 2.3k

» warnings: none, except grammar issues </3

» part 2

“so, when is the new album coming out?” the blonde, short-haired man asked you while flipping a card from his deck.

“not soon, i don’t have a chance to work on it seriously nowadays. hell, i didn’t even finish writing songs.” you sighed, flipping a card and putting it on top of his. 

“you can always get advice from me about writing, you know?” he proudly smirked which made you chuckle in return. “i will if i need any help. it’s not like everyday layne staley himself offers you help about working on songs.” 

a pout appeared on his face. “why did you say that? i’m your boyf-“

“shh!” you covered his mouth to not let him finish his sentence, checking around if someone was near. you sensed a couple of eyes staring in your direction from behind but there were only boys on the stage. sean and mike were jamming together while jerry was testing his guitar. his gaze turned to your direction, sending a smirk to both of you. 

“what the hell did he mean?” you furrowed your eyebrows but got soft the moment you felt layne’s hand on your shoulder, smiling at you like an idiot which made you blush slightly. “back to the game?”

“right,” you nodded, waiting for his return.

“you know, i’ve always thought that you’re an amazing person. i mean you’re a producer but at the same time, you have your own successful music career! it must be difficult to keep them in balance right?” his words didn’t help you to stop blushing.

“yeah, you can say that. thanks anyway.” you purposefully avoided his gaze because you knew if you looked at him, you would turn into a tomato in a second. he is too good at this, making you blush from such simple things. 

you flipped another card from your deck without looking. the moment you put your card on top of his and saw the jack card, you both looked at each other at the same time and before he could put his hand on top of it, you reached first. 

“damn it!” you laughed at him as you put the cards to your side. “you’re just too slow, babe.” you whispered the last word, making him blush.

“hey lovebirds, mind keeping it down for a bit?” jerry shouted in your direction, making both of you giggle at the same time. “i don’t know what are you talking about, man!” layne shouted back. jerry just nodded to brush it off. “get your ass back here soon!”

layne sighed, looking at you like asking for help. you just lifted your eyebrows and shrugged off. “you’re the singer, dude.”

“dude?” he smiled and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

before you could reply, a familiar man approached you from behind. it was riki rachtman from ‘headbangers ball’.

“hey guys, i hope i don’t disturb whatever you’re doing but, my friend, vanessa over there,” he paused then turned his back to the point in her direction. “wants to interview with you, layne. and if it’s alright for you, i can ask some questions about your upcoming album, [name]. it’s not that every day i encounter with such brilliant musicians as you.”

you chuckled at his compliment and felt layne’s changing expression. “uh, yeah, i have some time so go ahead.” you invited riki to sit next to you. when he sat, he eyed both of you in curiosity.

“how does it feel to work with ‘alice in chains’?”

“first of all, i feel lucky to work with those guys. four of them are brilliant and talented. every time all of them are working on something seriously, it can result like gems such as ‘facelift’, haha. but they are actually goofy and childish. they don’t cause any problems for anyone though. i enjoy being with them.” you couldn’t help but smile at your words. meanwhile, layne started to make cute noises. “aww!”

“i also wanted to ask you about your solo work. when is the album coming out? new collaborations? tours, maybe?”

“haha, well… the release date is still a mystery. i can’t find enough time to work on it here. but i’m managing to write couple of lyric drafts out of order, it’s not that serious enough to talk about much except kat is in the business with me again. that’s what i can say for now.”

“thanks for the answers, hope we’ll get the new gem as soon as possible. before the next question, i want to ask one thing that me and my other interview friends are curious about. sorry for asking this but, are you guys dating?”

you and layne paused and looked at each other. then he couldn’t help but burst out laughing and throwing his head backward. meanwhile, you covered your mouth and started to giggle at his question. the man probably began to regret asking this. layne calmed down and smiled. “um, i hope you got your answer.”

“don’t you have to be somewhere else, layne? don’t make a woman wait for you.” you reminded him.

“sure thing, ma’am.” he winked at you before standing up and whispering two words before going. “love you.”

“hi, i’m vanessa warwick from headbangers ball and today we’re here with mr. layne staley himself. hi, layne!”

“hi, vanessa!” the blonde man cheerfully replied.

“soo, how’s the tour going by so far?”

“it’s going more than good. i don’t remember the last time i had fun this much till now.”

“i heard you guys got a new bus. wanna show us around?”

“yeah sure.” layne led the way to her. they stopped at the front of the door and he gestured for her to enter first

“what a gentleman, you’re so kind.” vanessa gushed and landed her hand to him to pull him inside the bus. layne waved his hand meaning “it’s nothing” and gave his hand to her.

“so, here’s like the kitchen area. pretty filthy sink, plastic glasses…” he kneeled and made a sign to the cameraman to get closer and whispered. “and inside this drawer, me and mike hiding some snacks from jerry and sean. because they don’t know when to stop, haha.” he opened it and showed the crushed chip packets.

“and this painting right here, it’s a fine one for sure but sadly i forgot the name of the painter.” he pointed out to a painting where seagulls were flying on the beach.

“it really looks stunning as you.” vanessa didn’t miss the chance to flirt with him. layne gave her a small smile, thanking her in a low tone. the cameraman walked a little bit far from them, filming some other parts of the bus.

“have you met someone who matches you yet?” she asked him flirtatiously. before he could answer, she stood in front of him, leaning to the closest surface.

“well, i heard there’s going to be a party tonight so, i’m suggesting you hang out there together. what do you say?”

“uh…” he nervously mumbled. although her behavior didn't appeal to him, it was quite funny to watch to make such an attempt. she moved away from the surface and approached him, eyes wandering on his necklace which you gifted him three months ago on valentine’s day.

 “we can eat chips far from everyone and drink as much as we want. and after that, maybe we can sneak out and…” she touched his necklace but he moved her hand away without any harm quickly.

“ahaha, no.” he laughed nervously but answered firmly. “i have a girlfriend and i love her so much.”

vanessa’s expression changed in a second. flirtatiousness and shamelessness could be seen nowhere now. as her face turned to pale, she stepped back with a shy look. “oh i- i’m so sorry, i didn’t know.” she coughed and he nodded in understatement. “hey i think we’re done here!” she tapped the cameraman’s back and they got off from the bus as layne followed them behind. three of them saw riki standing near the bus. 

“hey layne, the guys are looking for you. they seemed to be a little bit annoyed.”

“ain’t no problem for me but thanks anyway.” he waved to three of them before making his way to the stage. 

“so, how did it go?” riki asked his friend. vanessa bit her lip in embarrassment. “dude has a girlfriend all along.”

“oh, i think i have an idea who she is.”

“you sure about this?”

“yes! there shouldn’t be a problem with people seeing us like that. i mean, i’m pretty sure we look like close friends.” layne chuckled while putting his arm on your shoulder, pulling you close to himself. 

“just keep calm, i promise we won’t pull any attention.” he quickly planted a kiss on top of your head before entering the party. “layne!” he didn’t answer as he knocked on the door. 

“hey fellas!” joey from anthrax greeted you a couple of seconds later in a half-drunk state. he extended his hand backward invitingly. as both of you entered inside, he gazed at you, lifting his left eyebrow. “i thought you were already here with the rest of the boys?”

layne awkwardly laughed, looking at you like asking for help. “um, she couldn’t find anything to wear so they got tired of waiting and just came here straightforwardly, i decided to keep company.” he winked at you as you rolled your eyes playfully. joey nodded slowly while grinning. “uh huh, are you guys a thing?”

“i don’t know what are you talking about.” you snorted while drinking the beer frank lent to you just now. layne lowered his head to have a taste of it so you made him drink it with your hands. both of them sarcastically smiled and then nodded. “whatever you say, dudes.” they left you there alone beside the crowd before you two giggled at each other.

“we should say hi to boys, they’re probably looking for us now.” you started to walk around next to him while looking side to side.

“nah, i bet we’re the last thing in their minds right now.”  he replied with a chuckle.

“still, let’s find them.” it wasn’t helpful when his face was so close next to yours. his warm breath and his short blonde beard were tickling against your cheek, not to mention how your cheeks started to flush due to his position.

“you’re so dangerously close to me.” you murmured. “i don’t know what are you talking about.” 

“oh so you’re copying me now?” you stopped walking and turned to him to face him. he smirked, “that’s what i’m gonna say if someone asks about us again, love.” he whispered the last word just like in the morning.

a couple of minutes later, you heard a couple of loud laughters and when you turned around to see, there was no one except boys. “what on earth are they doing?” you asked yourself. layne led the way while his arm was still on your shoulder. 

sean was laughing his ass off while mark was looking really pissed, meanwhile, jerry accidentally bumped into a wall. their expressions changed in a second when they saw you two. “hey, where the hell you’ve been guys?” mark asked, looking a little bit relieved now. 

“i was testing my new lipsticks and unlike you, layne didn’t leave me alone.” you replied while sending him a wink.

“so you were testing your lipsticks on him, right?” jerry approached you, he was rubbing his forehead and smiling even though his forehead hurt him.

“you got a purple mark on top of your head, dude.” layne changed the subject quickly as he was showing the area on himself. 

“you guys want a beer?” as both of you nodded, sean lent two beers to you and grabbed for himself and jerry and mark. 

“cheers!” all of you clinked your beer cans and chugged them in a couple of seconds. you wrinkled your face then threw the can to the floor. layne chuckled at your behavior, can’t move his eyes from you. as the boys noticed this they rolled their eyes in a sigh. “denial is not just a river in egypt!” jerry said as he grabbed another beer. 

instead of answering you just started to laugh at him, freeing yourself from layne. seconds later he joined you too. “what are you even talking about?” you managed to say between breaths. the three of them stared at both of you awkwardly then walked away from you. “we’ll see you at the bus!” mark shouted to you behind them. 

when you finally managed to calm down, you threw yourself at the nearest seat, face still flushed. he kneeled next to you, examining your face. after being sure there weren’t any acquaintances of you and not many people were around, you turned to him.

“i’m getting good at laughing my ass off each time. i was thinking about how you and mike tricked sean when he wanted to steal your chips again but you put the extra spicy ones and how hilarious and helpless he was looking when he started to make painful voices.” thinking about this made you giggle.

“oh god… we should have taken a photo of him that moment.” he whined then threw his head backward. 

“and, there’s something i wanna say.” you lowered your face to his. “i’ve heard about the interview that you had with that woman this morning. and i must say that i’m feeling quite proud of you, even though you didn’t say my name.”

“should i have say?”

you shook your head in disagreement. “it doesn’t matter, only i know who’s the girlfriend of the best grunge frontman and that’s enough for me.” you smiled.

“you’re so sweet, i love you so much.” he melted at your words and smiled, just when he wanted to kiss you, you put your hand between your lips. 

“let’s just head to the bus before boys, yeah?”

there will be a part 2 including smut bc i have a request of layne with a spicy one shot ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

[missbellie]

Redline, and...GO!- B.E

Synopsis: You and your ex-girlfriend are illegal car racers. Your breakup wasn't very amicable due to both of your toxicity, so you've avoided competing with each other. But apparently fate has other plans for you.

Pair: B.e×F!Reader

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: none (?)

Style: Fanfic | Imagine | Headcanons

Part: part 1 ⇽ part 2 ⇽part 3 ⇽ part 4 ⇽

You wiped your hands on your jeans, fingers still stained with oil, half-distracted by the sputtering engine in front of you. It had been a long night, but the peace of the garage was the only thing keeping your head from spinning.

Until—

“Thought you were good with your hands,” came that low, smug voice behind you.

You sighed.

“Billie,” you muttered without turning. “I was having a nice evening.”

She rounded the car, cocky as ever, her chain glinting under the fluorescent lights.

“Clearly,” she said, eyeing your half-reassembled carburetor. “Nice evening building a death trap.”

You rolled your eyes. “What do you want?”

“Just checking in.” Her tone was light—too light. “Making sure Alice didn’t fry your brain with one of her ‘deep talks’ about destiny or whatever.”

You looked up. “You’ve really got something against her, huh?”

Billie’s smirk twitched. “Only when she starts acting like she owns shit she didn’t earn.”

Your jaw tensed. “She’s my friend.”

“Right.” She leaned on the hood beside you. “So is your car. Doesn’t mean you should let her drive it.”

You blinked. “Did you just compare me to a car?”

“Don’t act surprised,” Billie said, grinning. “You’re high-maintenance. Loud. Fast. Sexy in the right light.”

“Shut up.” You shoved her lightly, half a laugh escaping your lips before you could stop it.

She caught your wrist on the way down. Just for a second.

“You blushing?” she asked, leaning in close enough for her breath to tickle your neck.

Your heart jumped. “It’s hot in here.”

Billie laughed—quiet and sharp. “Sure it is.”

You pulled away, grabbing a wrench just to have something to do with your hands.

“Why are you really here?” you asked, avoiding her eyes.

Billie’s smirk dimmed, but didn’t vanish.

“Wanted to see if you needed help. Or if you were still too proud to ask.”

You opened your mouth to bite back—but paused.

She was teasing, yeah. But she hadn’t pushed too hard. Not yet.

“I could use a second pair of hands,” you muttered.

Billie raised a brow. “Say it louder. I might die before I hear that again.”

“Don’t make me regret this.”

“No promises.”

You worked side by side for a few minutes, tension thick but tolerable. Billie passed you tools without asking. Knew when to shut up. Knew when to poke you just enough.

“I still think you’re compensating with this spoiler,” she said, casually nudging it. “Trying to scare off anyone who gets too close?”

You shot her a look. “You’re one to talk. You walk like your boots are trying to fight the pavement.”

“Only because I’m always being followed,” she shot back, eyeing you.

You almost choked on your own breath. “You’re unbelievable.”

“But I’m right.”

You tried to hide the grin that tugged at your lips. Failed miserably.

And that’s when Alice walked in.

She paused at the entrance, eyes flicking from you to Billie to the engine you were working on together. Her smile faltered for just a second.

“Hey,” she said, walking in like she owned the place. “Didn’t know I needed an appointment.”

You straightened. “We were just fixing something.”

Billie didn’t even glance up. “Nice of you to drop by.”

Alice ignored her. She walked straight to you, placing a hand lightly on your back. It lingered.

“You wanna grab food after this?” she asked.

You hesitated.

Billie didn’t.

“She’s busy.”

You turned. “Billie—”

“She’s got a race tomorrow,” Billie said, voice casual, but eyes locked on Alice. “Unless you want her distracted.”

Alice crossed her arms. “We can eat and talk strategy.”

“We both know you’re not here to talk strategy.”

Silence.

You stepped back, suddenly very aware of how close the two of them were. Billie was smirking. Alice was pissed. You were caught in the middle with a wrench in your hand and a headache building behind your eyes.

“Maybe another night,” you said to Alice, soft but firm.

She blinked. Then forced a smile. “Sure. No problem.”

She lingered another minute, but didn’t say much else.

And when she finally walked out—heels loud, back stiff—you noticed Billie watching you.

“What?” you asked, irritated.

“Nothing,” she said, smug. “Just… you’re getting better at seeing through bullshit.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I don’t need you to coach me.”

“I know,” Billie said, her smile almost fond. “But it’s fun watching you figure it out.”

You roll your eyes, and Billie lets out a small nasal laugh.

But, once the door shut behind Alice, the garage seemed quieter.

You exhaled, wiping your palms on your thighs. Billie didn’t say anything—just grabbed a rag and kept fiddling with the bolt she’d been tightening.

A strange silence settled between you.

Not sharp. Not biting.

Just… still.

You glanced over.

“You remember when we tried to rebuild that junkyard Honda?” you asked, voice lighter. “The one that almost exploded?”

Billie looked up slowly, lips twitching. “You mean the one you insisted would ‘change the game’?”

“It could’ve! If you hadn’t wired the ignition backward.”

“Oh, please,” she scoffed, finally letting a laugh escape. “You’re the one who said red goes to green.”

“That was a joke, Billie!”

You both broke into laughter, the kind that came too easy, like slipping into an old hoodie.

Billie sat on the edge of the workbench, shaking her head.

“God,” she said, “we really thought we were invincible back then.”

You smiled, the memory a warm ache in your chest. “We were so stupid.”

“Speak for yourself.”

“Oh, come on. You once tried to fix your muffler with duct tape and chewing gum.”

Billie pointed a finger. “It worked for three blocks.”

You laughed again, and for a moment, the world pulled back. No races. No betrayal. Just you.

Just you and Billie, the grease under your nails, the sting of shared history behind your smiles.

She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, voice softer now.

“Those nights in your old driveway,” she said, eyes on the ground, “felt like the only real thing in the world.”

You blinked.

Something about the way she said it…

Your heart clenched. The air shifted. Like the ghosts between you had decided to sit down and join.

“Yeah,” you said, quieter. “Me too.”

Billie looked at you. Really looked. And for the first time in a long time, there was no wall in her eyes. Just… you. The way she used to look at you, like she didn’t know whether she wanted to kiss you or kill for you.

The moment stretched.

But before anything could be said—

Before you could breathe—

The door slammed open.

“Yo!” Benny’s voice rang out like a hammer. “Who left a wrench in the alley? Someone’s gonna pop a tire.”

Billie sat up straight, expression hardening in an instant. The softness vanished like it had never been there.

Jhon followed behind her, eyeing you both with a smirk.

“Well, well. What’s this? Date night?”

You scoffed. “Fixing the car, dumbass.”

Billie was already moving—grabbing her jacket, stepping away from the workbench like the walls were suddenly too close.

“Leaving already?” Benny asked.

Billie ignored her.

You watched her cross the garage without looking back.

But just as she reached the door, she paused.

Half-turned.

“Good luck tomorrow,” she said—just to you.

The garage felt quieter after Billie left, like she’d taken the air with her. The lingering scent of grease and burnt rubber clung to everything, but all you could think about was the flicker in her eyes before she walked away.

“So…”

Benny’s voice broke through your thoughts as she climbed up onto the counter, swinging her legs. “What was that?”

You shrugged, too casually.

“Nothing. Just… talking.”

John snorted and leaned against the wall, arms crossed, giving you a look that read straight through your performance.

“You two haven’t talked like normal people in years. What changed?”

Benny nodded, frowning.

“Yeah. And I thought you and Alice were a thing now.”

You rolled your eyes, drying your hands on a rag.

“We’re not a thing. You both know Alice has been my best friend since forever. That’s it.”

John raised a skeptical brow. Benny tilted her head.

“Either way,” John said, pushing off the wall and stepping closer, “we know your history with Billie. We’re just worried.”

You sighed, trying not to sound defensive.

“Relax… I’m fine. Under control.”

The two exchanged a glance that told you they didn’t believe a word of it.

“Seriously, guys.” You smiled a little, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “I’m fine. I’m almost ready to head over for dinner—just a few more things to finish up.”

Benny jumped down from the counter and stretched.

“Alright, I’ll go set the table. You two finish up and come over soon.”

She tossed a wink at John and left the garage, her footsteps echoing into the hallway. The silence she left behind was different than Billie’s—heavier.

You turned back toward your tools, only to feel John’s presence beside you.

“Don’t,” you warned softly, without looking at him.

But he didn’t listen.

“We love you, Y/N. Benny and I. You know that, right?”

You glanced at him, lips pursed. He wasn’t teasing. His dark eyes held nothing but quiet concern.

“That little heart of yours hasn’t forgotten those ocean eyes.”

You opened your mouth, but he cut you off gently.

“I saw it, Y/N. Don’t pretend I didn’t. The way you two look at each other like the world disappears. Like it’s still yours."

He took a breath. "And the necklace—yeah, I know it’s still under your shirt. I remember when she gave it to you. Every time your heart beats, it’s still saying her name.”

You swallowed hard.

“But listen to me—if she hurts you again?”

He stepped closer, hand landing gently but firmly on your shoulder. “I’ll make sure she never sets eyes on you again. I swear it.”

Your throat tightened, and for a second, the tears prickled behind your eyes.

John pulled you into a hug, no questions asked. You let yourself fall into it, hiding your face in his shoulder as he stroked your hair like an older brother—calm, solid, the kind of person who didn’t say things unless he meant them.

“By the way…” he whispered before pulling away, eyes serious. “I don’t trust Alice. Not for a second. Be careful, okay?”

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and walked out, leaving you alone in the stillness of the garage once again.

The garage was quiet again, the last echo of John’s footsteps fading like a warning on the wind. You leaned against the worktable, fingertips brushing the silver chain just beneath your shirt.

You hesitated.

Then, slowly, you pulled the necklace out from under the fabric. The pendant glinted softly in the warm yellow light. A tiny gear with a sapphire set in the middle—subtle, but intricate. Mechanical, beautiful, just like her.

And suddenly, you were there again.

Two years ago.

Rain fell in sheets against the warehouse roof.

Billie stood beside you, soaked through from the ride, hair dripping down her forehead, a devilish smirk curling her lips. She was holding something behind her back.

"You’re shivering," she said, stepping closer, raindrops rolling off her leather jacket.

"I'm not cold," you muttered, teeth chattering slightly.

Billie tilted her head and pulled the tiny box from behind her.

"Happy 'You beat my ass at the track twice this week' day," she said, smug but soft.

You blinked, confused.

"That's not a thing."

"It is now." She popped the lid open. The necklace sat nestled inside on a scrap of blue velvet. Your breath caught.

"You like it?" she asked. For once, unsure.

"Yeah. I mean—yeah. It's..." You cleared your throat, caught off-guard.

"Why though?"

Billie shrugged, biting the inside of her cheek. Her eyes flicked to yours and didn’t look away.

"Because you always fix everyone else’s shit, and I thought maybe... something small could be yours. Just yours. And because I hate that you never wear anything that makes people look twice."

A pause.

"You should be looked at. All the time."

You didn’t say anything. Just closed the box, stepped forward, and pressed your lips to hers like gravity pulled you in. That night, you let her take the necklace off. But the next morning, you put it back on. And every day since—even after the crash, even after the fallout—you’d worn it, hidden beneath your clothes.

Like a bruise that never healed right.

Present.

“Y/N!” Benny’s voice echoed from the hallway, dragging you back to the present.

“Dinner’s ready, come on before John eats everything!”

You swallowed thickly, slipping the necklace back under your shirt and wiping your hands on your jeans. When you stepped out of the garage, Benny was waiting with her arms open like always.

"You good?" she asked softly, squeezing your waist as you approached.

You nodded.

"Yeah. Just... memories."

"Billie?"

You looked away, but your silence was answer enough. Benny didn’t press. She just wrapped her arm around your shoulder and led you down the hall.

"Well, if you're gonna be haunted, might as well eat while you do it," she joked, earning a small, reluctant laugh from you.

"You're a menace," you said, smiling into her hair.

"And you're stuck with me."

The two of you walked into the dining room, holding each other like you were both trying to keep something from slipping out of your chests.

Dinner felt like breathing again.

The table was set messily—plates a little off-center, forks mismatched, one glass already half-spilled thanks to Jonathan’s clumsiness—but it was perfect in the way only home can be. The smell of garlic, roasted vegetables, and cheap wine filled the house like a hug.

You sat between Benny and Jonathan, laughter spilling from your lips uncontrollably as they argued over whether Jon actually cried watching Fast & Furious 7.

"I did not cry," he said, eyes narrowed as he scooped rice onto his plate.

"You absolutely did, I saw your bottom lip trembling like a baby," Benny snorted, elbowing him.

"I had allergies!"

"Sure, allergies. To brotherhood and Paul Walker's smile."

You cackled, nearly choking on your drink.

It was like this all the time—this chaotic rhythm, this safe noise. You’d forgotten how much you needed it.

"Remember when we broke into the school’s storage room to steal the traffic cones?" Benny asked, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

"To make a ‘practice track’ behind the football field?" Jon added, grinning.

"And then we got caught because somebody left a trail of Skittles from their backpack all the way to the cones—"

"It was Y/N!" they both shouted at once, pointing at you.

"Okay, but who ate the evidence?" you shot back, raising an eyebrow.

"I regret nothing," Benny replied, dramatically placing a hand over her chest.

Your cheeks ached from smiling. This was what they did best—reheat your heart when you couldn’t do it yourself. The three of you had been inseparable since you were ten years old, a trio of trouble. Every school you went to? Chaos. Always pulled into the principal’s office. Always in detention. Always together.

You shared one love above all: cars.

Benny’s dad was a mechanic, her mother the fiery owner of a dive bar just around the corner of your old neighborhood. Benny, with her riot of red curls and those light brown eyes that sparked with trouble, had always been the loudest of the three. Loyal, impulsive, and dramatic to her bones, the freckles scattered across her cheeks practically danced when she smirked.

Jonathan was the quiet one, but never boring. His grandfather had been a street-racing legend, and even though Jon didn’t talk about it much, you knew how deep that legacy ran. With short black hair, hazel eyes that could melt or freeze depending on the angle, and a sly, clever calmness that made him the perfect counter to Benny’s chaos, he carried his mischief like a secret weapon. And—yeah—Benny had definitely fallen for him somewhere along the way, even if she’d rather die than admit it.

And then there was you.

Maybe the glue. Maybe the spark. Maybe the mess. But undeniably part of the whole.

At eighteen, you’d all scraped together every penny you could and, with the help of Jon’s dad—who happened to own a couple shady properties—you’d rented a decent house in Ravencar, a half-forgotten village three hours out of New York. No street cameras. No police sniffing around.

It wasn’t a place for dreams. But it was perfect for the kind of dreams you three had.

Illegal races. Midnight engines. Living on the edge of something you couldn’t quite name.

And now, years later, here you were—older, maybe wiser, but still together. Still fighting to hold onto the pieces of yourselves.

"You’re zoning out," Benny said, mouth full of potatoes.

"I was reminiscing," you replied with a shrug.

"About what?" Jon asked, pouring himself another glass of wine.

"Skittles," you lied, smirking.

Benny snorted.

"You always get soft after garage shifts. Must be the oil fumes."

"Or maybe it’s the ghost of a certain ex," Jon said, not looking at you, but his voice edged with knowing.

You rolled your eyes but said nothing. The necklace beneath your shirt suddenly felt heavier.

The past was always lingering in Ravencar. And it was getting harder to ignore how close it had gotten again.

Billie POV

The bourbon burned on its way down — not enough to distract, but enough to blur the edges. The bottle sat on the table, half-empty, or half-full depending on how self-destructive she was feeling tonight.

The living room was quiet. She hated the quiet.

She leaned back on the beat-up couch in her shop, boots up on the table, a cigarette burning lazily between her fingers. One of Y/N’s songs was still playing on that old-ass speaker — not that she’d ever admit she left it on.

She didn’t even like that song.

(But she remembered Y/N humming it once while fixing her carburetor. Grease on her cheek. That stupid little necklace glinting in the sun.)

Billie groaned, tilting her head back, eyes closed.

"Fuck," she muttered to no one.

Y/N had looked at her differently today.

Not soft. Not angry either.

Just… strangely calm. Like she wasn’t carrying all that fire Billie used to know. Like maybe someone else had helped her put it out.

Maybe it was Alice.

Billie scoffed, the sound bitter in her throat.

Alice.

Pretty. Polite. Predictable.

She could play nice all she wanted — Billie could smell desperation a mile away. She’d seen the way Alice looked at Y/N like she was a prize to win. But Y/N was no damn trophy.

Y/N was chaos. Was wind through the windows at 150mph. She was the first taste of danger and the last breath before the crash.

And Billie… had been the one who let her go.

She took another long swig from the bottle, dragging her hand across her mouth after.

"You’re such an idiot," she whispered, half-laughing at herself.

The memories came easy when she was like this.

Y/N laughing in her lap during late-night stakeouts. Y/N shouting over engines. Y/N biting her lip when she was trying not to smile. Y/N begging her not to leave that night—

She shut her eyes harder.

They hadn’t touched in years, but the ghost of her still clung to Billie’s skin.

And today, with Y/N looking at her across the garage — not flinching, not running, just standing there — it had done something to Billie. Twisted something deep and unfinished.

Her fingers itched. For her skin. Her mouth. Her laugh.

But instead, she took another drag.

"You look at me like that again," she murmured aloud, her voice rough and slow, "and I might not be able to keep pretending I’m over you."

There was no one to hear it.

Just the hum of the speaker. The smoke curling into the ceiling. The burn in her chest that had nothing to do with liquor.

"I need to go for a walk," the girl says, grabbing her keys from the car and heading out the door.

The sky was dark, barely any stars peeking through. The cold night air scraped against your already sore throat as you walked back from the pharmacy, clutching the little paper bag in your hand.

Then—

Bright headlights.

Engine roaring.

Too fast.

You jumped onto the sidewalk just as tires screeched and the car came to a hard stop right in front of you.

“ARE YOU INSANE?!” you shouted, your voice raspier than usual.

The driver’s door swung open, and out stepped her.

“Y/N?” Billie blinked, leaning lazily on the door like she hadn’t just nearly flattened you.

You stared in disbelief.

“Are you drunk?!”

“Define drunk,” she said, voice annoyingly casual. “If you mean... artistically relaxed, then yeah, maybe.”

You squinted at her.

“You almost killed me, Billie!”

“Technically, I didn’t. That’s what reflexes are for. Yours are pretty good, by the way.”

“This isn’t funny.” You marched toward her. “You could’ve seriously hurt someone. You can’t drive like this!”

She held up both hands. “Okay, okay, jeez. Chill. You're acting like I ran over a puppy.”

“You ran over my sanity, does that count?”

Billie tilted her head. “I dunno, yours was already pretty wrecked.”

You glared, ready to swing your pharmacy bag at her head.

“Get back in the car and go home before someone actually dies.”

“I am home. Ravencar is my kingdom, didn’t you know?”

You rolled your eyes so hard it nearly hurt.

“And you’re its drunk clown, apparently.”

“Ouch.” She clutched her chest. “Harsh words from someone shopping for throat meds like a grandma.”

“Some people take care of themselves. Wild concept, huh?”

“Some people are also fun. You used to be fun.”

You took a threatening step forward.

“And you used to have a functioning brain.”

Billie laughed, stumbling slightly but catching herself.

“Okay, okay. No need to fight me on the street like we’re in some reality show.”

“You are the reality show, Billie.”

She leaned against the car, grinning.

“That mean you're watching?”

You gave her a long, unimpressed stare, then turned and started walking.

“Don’t follow me.”

She stayed where she was, hands in her pockets.

“I wasn’t gonna. You're scary tonight.”

"Must be the cough syrup."

hates this one, bye

luv u, xoxo

[callme2heaven]

callme2heaven masterlist

I will write for:

Pearl Jam - Stone Gossard, Jeff Ament and Eddie Vedder (possibly more in the future)

Alice In Chains - Jerry Cantrell and Layne Staley (possibly more in the future)

Nirvana - Dave Grohl and Kurt Cobain (possibly Krist in the future)

Soundgarden - Chris Cornell (possibly more in the future)

✨ = fluff

🌹= smut

😿 = sad/angst

PEARL JAM

Stone Gossard

Unannounced 😿/✨

Eddie Vedder

nothing yet

Jeff Ament

nothing yet

ALICE IN CHAINS

Jerry Cantrell

nothing yet

Layne Staley

nothing yet

NIRVANA

Dave Grohl

nothing yet

Kurt Cobain

nothing yet

SOUNDGARDEN

Chris Cornell

nothing yet

[campymonkey]

Natalie Scatorccio Headcanons: favorite music pre-crash

Favorite album is The Velvet Underground & Nico by The Velvet underground but she tells everyone it's their more controversial sophomore album White Light/White Heat because she thinks the banana album is too mainstream

Teases Shauna for being a Weezer fan but secretly loves it too

Loves the Riot Grrrl movement, listens to Rebel Girl by Bikini Kill imagining a girl singing it to her

LOVES grunge. Nirvana, Hole, Alice in Chains, Pearl Jam, PJ Harvey, Soundgarden, L7, Babes in Toyland...

Went to NYC to watch a Bikini Kill concert and went STATIC when they said girls to the front. Cried watching Kathleen Hanna from so upclose

Gets really annoyed when people say Nirvana is better than Hole

Also when people don't recognize PJ Harvey's pioneerism in grunge music

Obsessed with The Cure. Her and Shauna constantly get on fights over which of the post-punk rival bands are better: The Smiths or The Cure

Favorite Hole album really is Pretty on the Inside but she's been really digging Live Through This because Lottie always puts it in her car when giving her a ride. They blast the music and sing along

Always gets high with Lottie and they listen to Dummy - Portishead

Her and Lottie found out about Kate Bush together. Her favorite album by the queen is Never For Ever

Jackie and Lottie put her on Madonna and now she LOVES IT, even though she mostly listens to rock she's not ashamed of it at all. Tells everyone how revolutionary she is. Favorite album of hers is Bedtime Stories

[tenderyellowbluefics]

I haven’t written on here in a LOOOONGG time but I wanna come back!! So give me some requests!!! My Eddie Munson phase has long since died so I don’t write for him anymore, but I have some other metalheads I'd love to write about!

I'm mainly interested in writing about James Hetfield and/or Jerry Cantrell right now but I will also accept requests for the following!

Kirk Hammett

Jason Newstead

Sean Kinney

Layne Staley

(Non metal/rock)

Keanu Reeves

Halsey

Rhea Ripley.

If there is someone you reallyyyy want me to write about who isn't on this list, feel free to ask me anyways!! There's a good chance I'll at least give it a shot haha!

What I’ll write?

I’m cool writing fluff, angst, smut all that!

I will NOT write about anything to do with pedophilia, abuse, or incest!

I've been thirsting real hard over James lately so smutty requests for him are encouraged💀

[emotional-fox]

therian playlists ♬

now playing: fox

0:00 ─〇───── 0:00

dirty paws, of monsters and men

fox on the run, sweet

soldier, poet, king, the oh hellos

like the dawn, the oh hellos

crystals, of monsters and men

furr, blitzen trapper

country roads, john denver

rhiannon, fleetwood mac

bare trees, fleetwood mac

back in my body, maggie rogers

i of the storm, of monsters and men

the warming moon, rogue valley

☆

now playing: wolf

0:00 ─〇───── 0:00

running with the wolves, aurora

wolves without teeth, of monsters and men

furr, blitzen trapper

she-wolf, shakira

dirty paws, of monsters and men

wild mountain honey, steve miller band

eyes wide open, gotye

brother wolf, sister moon, the cult

landslide, fleetwood mac

the chain, fleetwood mac

wolves, bon iver

alaska, maggie rogers

☆

now playing: rabbit

0:00 ─〇───── 0:00

roger rabbit, sleeping with sirens

rabbit hole, aviva

peach, the front bottoms

prey, the neighborhood

pumped up kicks, foster the people

bunny, bunny, bunny, the golden orchestra

rabbit heart (raise it up), florence and the machine

it will come back, hozier

sunlight, hozier

your rabbit feet, wild nothing

you fill up my senses, john denver

like the dawn, the oh hellos

☆

now playing: lion

0:00 ─〇───── 0:00

king and lionheart, of monsters and men

truth to power, onerepublic

little lion man, mumford and sons

fearless, night watch

and i miss you, sade

love song for a prairie fire, jayber crow

lion’s teeth, the mountain goats

onions, the mountain goats

a pillow of wings, pink floyd

i know the end, phoebe bridgers

this river is wild, the killers

lioness, songs: ohia

☆

now playing: hawk

0:00 ─〇───── 0:00

the eagle and the hawk, john denver

talons, bloc party

birds of the high arctic, david gray

seven nation army, the white stripes

fly with me, the jonas brothers

hunter, galantis

never coming home (song for the guilty), in live the dream

halcyon, the paper kites

featherstone, the paper kites

birds, imagine dragons

heft, japanese breakfast

plum, troye sivan

☆

now playing: squirrel

0:00 ─〇───── 0:00

no roots, alice merton

prey, the neighborhood

dirt, bryan lanning

rivers and roads, the head and the heart

old pine, ben howard

ends of the earth, lord huron

woodland, the paper kites

savior complex, phoebe bridgers

melancholyism, super whatvr

red squirrel, stackridge

sofia, clairo

furr, blitzen trapper

little acorns, the white stripes

[skywlkrhoney]

The girl from the garage next door

Sam Monroe x KinderWhore!Fem!reader

Fluff!

WARNINGS:Smoking, mentions of family problems, Sam spying on the reader (but not in a scary way), Reader is described as someone who has black and medium hair, but they can imagine her the way they want <3

N/A: Welcome to my first imagine of my favorite emo boy!! I hope you like it and excuse any mistake in English, because it's not my first language

Sam's heavy steps hit the ground, his sneakers beaten in contact with the dirty floor in front of his house. Sam was angry, to say the least. Another argument with his father, and he was already about to completely lose his mind.

He took the pake of cigarettes out of the rumped pocket on the front of his jeans, took a cigarette, put it between his lips and lit it with a lighter. Almost automatically, when inhaling the toxic smoke into your lungs, your mind relaxed minimally.

Sam smoked while watching the row of houses on the street. The night air was dense, loaded with the smell of asphalt and the cigarette smoke that came out of his lips in irregular spirals. It was then that he heard something—a sound, to be more specific.

He frowned and turned slightly, trying to identify the origin. His eyes traveled the environment until they fixed on the garage of the house next door. The new family had moved a few weeks ago, but he knew almost nothing about them. The sound came from there, muffled by the walls, but still sharp enough for him to recognize the melody effortlessly.

"Heart-Shaped Box." Nirvana.

Sam threw the cigarette on the floor and stepped on it, without taking his eyes off the garage. He wasn't the type to care about neighbors, but something in that song made him want to get closer. Maybe it was just curiosity. With his hands in his pockets, he walked to the front of the garage, feeling the icy air of the night hit his pale skin.

He approached the garage, and the music got a little louder with every step he took. The gate was half open, and Sam stopped right in front, peeking discreetly inside.

The first thing he saw were cardboard boxes stacked in every corner, which made sense—after all, the family had moved a short time ago. His gaze wandered through the walls, absorbing the details of the space. Posters covered almost all the cold concrete, some glued anyway, others torn at the ends, but all screaming the same aesthetic. Hole, Alice in Chains, Nirvana, Veruca Salt. The kind of musical taste that immediately caught his attention.

That's when he saw her.

With my back to him, focused on sticking a Babes in Toyland poster on the wall in an almost awkward way. The corners were crooked, as if she didn't care much about the precision, just the feeling of seeing him there. Sam remained still, watching her unhurriedly, his eyes following the details he could capture.

His hair was dark, black as the pitch of the night, and fell to his shoulders in a dismissive way, some strands sticking to the skin of his neck. She wore a baby-pink satin dress, the fabric contrasting with the torn half-trawler that covered her legs, the wefts pulled and worn in a way that seemed purposeful. On the feet, a pair of heavy black boots.

While gluing the top of the poster, his arms raised above his head, Sam noticed the shiny bracelets on his wrists, some thin and delicate, others larger, tingling gently with the movement. There was something in the way she moved, as if she were alone in the world, without the slightest idea that she was being watched.

Should he say something? Or simply continue there, absorbing the scene as if it were a moving painting?

Sam didn't know, but for some reason, he couldn't look away.

He was so immersed in his thoughts that he didn't even notice when the girl finished pasting the poster and turned to get another one in one of the boxes. It was only when her eyes met his that Sam felt the impact of the moment—she stopped abruptly, her fingers still hovering over the paper, clearly surprised to see him there.

Her body gave a little startle, her eyes widening slightly before she blinked quickly, as if trying to process his unexpected presence there, standing at the gate of her garage.

Sam noticed at the same time and struggled to react.

“Oh, shit—sorry. I...” he passed a hand over the back of his neck, looking away for a second, trying to recompose the words before it sounded even stranger.—I just listened to the music.

The girl let out a short laugh, a little nervous, still catching her breath from the little fright. Her lips curled into a light smile, while she shook her head.

“Is it too high?”

“No” he answered too fast and soon cleared his throat, trying to look less desperate.—I mean, no. I recognized the song and just... wanted to see who was listening.

She tilted her head slightly to the side, watching him with curiosity now, her eyes analyzing his figure as if trying to fit him into some mental category.

Old and sly pants. Moss green T-shirt with Che Guevara's face faded. Equally worn sneakers. The black hair is kind of messy, with a blue rebellious strand standing out between the strands. And the eyes—contorned with black pencil.

“Do you like that sound?”Her voice was soft, but loaded with an almost palpable intensity, while her eyes shone under the dim light of the street.

Sam took a step forward, casually leaning on the gate still half open.

“Maybe...”He replied, half playful, the smile on his lips while she studied him for a few seconds, his eyebrow arched and a slight smile illuminating his face.

Without wasting time, she stretched out her hand and said:

“I'm Y/n. I moved a few weeks ago.”

Sam laughed, remembering the moving truck he had seen parked on the street.

“Yeah, I saw the truck” he replied, with a relaxed tone.

“Do you want to come in?” she asked, inviting.

He accepted the invitation and entered the room, his eyes running through every detail of the space. That's when he noticed a poster of Marilyn Manson hanging on the wall. Approaching, he asked curiously:

“Do you like him?”

She shrugged with an enigmatic smile and replied:

“More or less. They say he had an affair with Courtney Love... and, honestly, I thought it was great.”

Sam let out a nasal laugh.

She smiled and, without wasting time, walked to the small minibar leaning against the wall. After a few moments, he came back with two bottles of cold Coca-Cola and, extending one of them, said:

“Here, this one is for you.”

He gladly accepted, thanking with a nod while taking a sip. At that moment, the music changed. The sound of "Heart-Shaped Box" gave way to the ethereal atmosphere of Mazzy Star's "Roseblood", which filled the environment with an almost dreamlike melody.

“So, what were you doing alone that night?”she asked, her voice soft, but full of curiosity.

Sam hesitated for a moment, looking at the bottle in his hand. The memories of your father coming back to the fore.

“There were some complications at home...”he confessed, the tone loaded with an unexpected vulnerability.

She nodded, understanding the feeling behind the words.

“I understand”she replied, with a distant look.”Even having a kind of nice relationship with my parents, when they argue, it's the worst thing.”

He agreed silently, watching her with growing admiration. In the midst of the dim light of the room, I noticed every delicate feature of her face, the unpretentious way that made her irresistibly beautiful.

After a brief comfortable silence, she broke the pause:

“And you, which bands do you like?”

While talking, Sam let himself be carried away by the fascination of the surrounding environment. He walked slowly towards the stacked boxes, where he discovered real treasures: vintage vinyl records, exotic decorations, colorful candles and small miniatures of porcelain ballerinas, all carefully packed.

She approached slowly, her silent steps matching the atmosphere of the place.

“Did you know that I love collecting these things? Especially the ballerinas” she said, her eyes twinkling with enthusiasm. “I've already prepared my room to be able to put them in their proper place.”

“Y/n, come to dinner!”

The male voice, deep and familiar, echoed through the garage, interrupting the silence that formed while both admired the collection.

It was her father, calling her to the table. She gave Sam a look of silent excuses. He, still holding the Coca-Cola, smiled embarrassed and said:

“Thanks for the Coke, it was super nice to talk to you. I think you are, without a doubt, the coolest neighbor on this block. And, again, apologies for the fright.”

She laughed, in a sweet and unmalicious way, and replied:

“You're welcome, Sam. It was a pleasure to meet you. See you soon.”

Sam left the garage and, outside, saw her waving shyly before closing the gate. With the can of Coca-Cola in hand, he headed towards his house. Each step made the problems with his father seem a little smaller, and, with a light heart, he could hardly wait for dawn, so he could have the chance to talk to his nice neighbor again, and maybe ask her out.