#Over and over by Frank Sinatra is playing my head as I write this I think that’s fitting

[ressesofthepeaces]

Say what you will but I loved Nico getting bitchy and irritated with everyone around him including Will himself because same king. your partner that you in fact love more than any other living mortal made a completely neutral observation about the literal hell scape you both are standing in? *shakes in controlled anger*. That same boy that you would kiss and sing to sleep makes an even slightly unhelpful suggestion in a stressful situation? *physically retraining from throwing the knapsack at him*. Why communicate to your empathetic s/o(a) that you feel misunderstood by their actually reasonable comments about the Underworld (they have never seen anything like it before) when you could just continue to marinate in the self isolation and violent anger in your silly little mind until you inevitably lash out at the person you love which makes you feel even worse !! Nico is spiraling in this book and I am spiraling irl and I think he is so very Real for that

[haetrack]

HOW IT ALL GOES | MASTERLIST

there are millions of love songs in the world. though they all speak of the same thing, they’re not all the same. love can be happy, sad, exciting, or just shown physically. love is different for everyone. there’s a song for every story, for every person who experiences love.

starring: haechan, mark, jaehyun, jaemin, and renjun!

general warnings: fluff, angst, and smut (not all fics will contain smut, so minors be aware!) fics will be tagged with their specific warnings! general yearning, heartbreak, happy and sad endings

note: the fics are not connected to each other! they can be read as stand alone fics but i hope you stay to read them all! synopses and tags might be changed during the writing process!

side note: if you would like to be tagged, please send in an ask or comment on this post!

I. (lucky for you) we’re just friends

best friend!haechan x reader

synopsis: haechan is someone who always gets what he wants. he’s willing to do anything, but now, he realizes, he doesn’t know what to do. will you, his best friend of many years, let him step into your life where he hasn’t before? do you think about him as much as he does you? or will it all slip away, along with all his memories with you. (angst, little fluff)

side a: like a friend - pulp

side b: now playing

II. no clue

one night stand!mark lee x reader

synopsis: when mark realizes how long it’s been since he’s gotten laid, he rushes out to a party. he’s quick to find someone, rushing into a room without really thinking about it. when he sees you laid under him, it clicks that he might just like you, a stranger. he tries looking for you all over campus, wanting to talk to you. how long will it take for you both to meet? do you even want to meet him? (smut, fluff, little angst)

side a: tongues - the frights

side b: now playing

III. your fate, my karma

fwb!jaehyun x reader

synopsis: jaehyun realizes he’s in love with you. it’s fucked, especially because he rejected you once before. he doesn’t want to ruin what he has with you, more importantly, the friendship he has with you. he can’t help it, not with how you look at him, how you smile, how you feel. it’s like he was made to see and touch you. he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold in his secret. (smut, angst, little fluff)

side a: somethin’ stupid - frank sinatra

side b: now playing

IV. can it last forever?

boyfriend!jaemin x reader

synopsis: after many successful dates, jaemin finally asked to be your boyfriend. you were so happy in the beginning, but doubts begin to fill your head. jaemin is a loving boyfriend, but you can’t help but wonder if you deserve him. did you go into this too fast? what if this is all you have? will you be able to make him happy? (fluff, angst, suggestive)

side a: valentine - laufey

side b: flip over?

V. all to myself

acquaintance!renjun x reader

synopsis: renjun hates how all you’ve been doing is talking about another man. usually, he wouldn’t really mind. but now, he realizes the only reason why he hates it is because he likes you. you’re a friend of a friend, and he’s not sure how he’s supposed to get closer to you if all you’re thinking about someone else. (fluff, smut)

side a: eastside - daisy

side b: flip over?

a/n: im so excited for this series HOORAY!!! i hope u guys are as excited as i am when i start releasing them :3 i also recommend listening to the songs i put!! the fics were inspired by them and lay out the overall feel i want the fics to have! enjoy reading :p

[nervocat]

“The stars look down on you as you wander with your cat guide. They want to tell you a story of theirs. Will you listen to them?”

# — Notes: I'M SO PROUD OF THIS FIC OMGG. This is my first time writing for him tho so. This is also based on Frank Sinatras song "Somethin' Stupid" hehe. (@dumbificat , @aventurintus , @rainswept ⛧ @ ing you three bc yeah :33). I've also GOTTA stop overthinking my fics bc I don't think the ending went well so now I feel the entire fic isn't good.. oops... THIS IS ALSO MY LONGEST FIC EVER BTW # — Word count: 1.1k # — Fandom: Honkai: star rail # — Cw: just a hint of angst but nothing rlly

—Somethin' Stupid

Aventurine walks around Golden Hour, that same smile of his on his face as he takes in the scenery of Penacony for who knows how many times.

“Aventurine!” he hears you call. He immediately stops and looks behind him, and seeing you running over to him makes his smile slightly more genuine.

“Why hello, [name],” he greets you as you come to a halt in front of him. You seemed out of breath, as if you had sought him out for something.

And he wonders why you, of all people in the universe, would search for him.

“I think I've got some free time, so I was wondering if you'd wanna hang out? We don't do it as much anymore,” you say after you catch your breath, though you still breathe heavily from running.

“It would seem so.. how about we go back to the good old days and gamble with each other?”

“Aventurine!” you say in a teasing, playful tone, elbowing him slightly. The blond laughs a bit.

“What? Does [name] not want to lose to me again?”

“Whatever,” you scoff playfully. “But fine, I suppose we could go do that if you want.”

You groan as you put your cards down on the table, hand in your hair. Aventurine — unsurprisingly — won again. While you guys didn't bet large amounts of money and you earned good amounts of it with your job, it still hurt to lose the money.

“Aaand I win,” he sets his cards down on the table, sitting casually in his chair as an arm is behind his head and a leg over his knee. “You’re definitely better than before though, might I say,” Aventurine adds with a cunning smile.

You look up at him as you lean back in your chair, huffing. “Really? I still lost though, of course.. don't think I'll ever win against you,” you answer, and Aventurine can't help but let a genuine smile sneak it's way onto his lips.

It has been a while of knowing each other, and while he has come to terms with liking you — liking being more like love — it was still an odd feeling for him.

Aventurine moves his hand to take a sip of his drink, as do you, and finds himself slipping up on his words — “I love you,” — is what he murmurs. He tenses and looks up to you, his pretty, mixed eyes meeting with yours as you hold your glass in your hand, lips touching the rim of the glass.

How could he have slipped up? How could he have spoiled this night with you? How could he have confessed like this in front of you, you whom he is infatuated with?

It's silent for a moment before you laugh, taking a sip of your drink. “Oh, Aventurine, you’re really saying that here?” he could tell from your eyes you didn't believe his accidental proclamation of love, maybe even despised it in the sense he's said it many other times in a not-so-serious way (that being when he still wasn't aware of his feelings for you).

Aventurine sighs, finally taking that drink he wanted and gulped the rest of it down. “Yes, you're right, how silly of me,” he plays it off, putting his glass down on the table. “Would you like to leave for tonight, mx. [name]? We could always do this another time.”

Oh how he hates knowing he had ruined the night with you by slipping up and saying somethin’ stupid.

“Yeah, I should probably get back to work anyways,” you say as you stand up, a smile creeping into your face. “But, I'll help you clean up before I go, Aven.” said man nods, his mood having turned sour because of his own words.

But oh how right those words felt to say to you, like they have to no one else before.

Aventurine looks at himself in the mirror the night after he hung out with you. His hat was discarded somewhere else and his glasses sat by the sink.

What was he doing? He was practicing words to say to you, to get his feelings across to you and to get you to know that they are, in fact, genuine words.

Aventurine thinks that he's ready to talk with you again, but decides to go off and do his own thing until you say you're ready to go out again.

He walks the streets of Golden Hour again, and he perks up at your voice. Aventurine turns around with his smile turned genuine. “[name]! If it isn't you, my dear friend,” the smell of his perfume wafts over you, though it's not too overpowering this time around.

His perfume smelt nice.. you wondered why it smelt like your favorite scent, but you let it be. “I have some free time again and was wondering if you just wanted to walk around Golden Hour? It's a nice night to do so” You ask him. Aventurine nods.

“Of course, this is your free time you're spending after all,” he answers. You smile at him and as you start walking, so you don't notice the red tint coating his cheeks, a lovestruck smile on his face.

You two walk for a while, just talking about memories or things going on in the other's life. You both were normally very busy individuals, so getting one-on-one time like this was something you both valued.

You and Aventurine, after walking for a bit, have made it to a more secluded part of Penacony, the start sky view not hindered much now with the lack of buildings around.

Aventurine looks over at you as you talk about how work was for you. He finds himself saying those words again after gaining his composure — “I love you, [name],” — and you can hear the sincerity in his voice and see it in his facial expression, it holding a fondness for you.

Aventurine believes he's said somethin’ stupid again, and he was about to switch off of the topic at your shocked face and no response until you say those words back to him.

“I love you too, Aven,” he looks back at you, his eyes widening. “I realized I might've been a bit.. rude, the last time you said you love me.”

You love him? You love him? Aventurine, who is renowned to be a cunning liar and to not be fully trusted?

Aventurines perfume comes back over your senses again and you wholeheartedly welcome it as you wait for his reply. “You.. love me?” he repeats to himself as he turns his body to you.

“Yes, Aventurine, I do love you,” you cup his cheeks in your hands and he melts at your touch.

Under the stars of the Penacony dreamscape, you two share your first kiss with one another, and when you pull away, Aventurine wraps his arm around you in a gentle, warm hug full of gratitude for giving him a chance with you.

★ — © nervocat 2024 || I appreciate any reblogs made, and pls don't repost or translate my works anywhere, ty — ✦

[philistiniphagottini]

I’m trying not be everywhere but I really need to just spill my thoughts somewhere. And where better then here? I’ve been listening to old classics, like frank Sinatra, Elvis, Fats Domino, (which I recommend “blueberry hill” from) and some others but I’ve been listening to “Aline by Christophe” and I’m just imagining slow dancing with your fav (not really specifying, you can write for whoever, basically surprise me😭) while they whisper sweet nothings into your ear. The radio/jukebox being muffled in the background while you both focus on each other in the moment. Lowkey thinking about that makes me tear up for some reason-😭 man I’ve just been sending fluff or angst💀 which I would like to apologize for if thats not what you are in the mood to write😭

-💧

I love listening to music so if you have any more suggestions, I am all ears. (I'm going to check out the ones you already mentioned in this post) So many characters jumped to mind for this prompt but I decided to go with Welt Yang ((sorry if you don't know him)) because a few other characters I thought of I kind of hurt myself with thinking about because they would have been so angsty. Fluffy but angsty. Anyways, thanks for the prompt enjoy being basically an old, married couple with Welt :)

It was late at night when you decided to tinker with the phonograph nestled in the passenger car of the Astral Express. The rest of the crew had gone to bed ages ago, save you and your life partner, Welt. You didn’t even hear the familiar, adorable footsteps of the Train’s Conductor who usually roamed the halls at night to make sure every one was asleep. Alas, it was peacefully silent, yet you wanted a little noise to fill the void.

You continued to toggle through the vast amounts of records kept on the beloved phonograph, your eyes narrowed in concentration as you tried to find one that you would enjoy. Something soft, not too loud, lest you risk waking the other passengers. A small sigh blew past your lips. You didn’t even recognise half these songs. Where were all the old classics? Like Sinatra or Elvis? You shook your head. You were going to have to teach the youngsters around here about the meaning of your impeccable tastes. As you continued to scroll, your finger abruptly paused over the button when the name of a familiar song flashed by. A smile lit up your features as your finger hovered over the play button. When you pushed the button, the phonograph hummed to life, loading the record as the needle lowered to the disc and it slowly begun to spin.

You turned around as the soft tune started to fill the air, injecting the silence with a little bit of life. Welt’s ears perked up at the familiar melody gracing his ears and his head immediately picked up. His eyes were focused on you as you waltzed across the room, only stopping once you were standing in front of the chair he was currently sitting in. A playfully smile tugged at your lips, your eyes sparkling like stars as you held your hand out to him.

"May I have this dance, Mr. Yang?" you asked.

You wriggled your fingers in front of his face, trying to entice him further. A smile tilted the older gentleman’s lips as he reached for your hand. His touch was gentle as your fingers intertwined and he leaned forward, placing his lips upon the delicate skin of your knuckles. You chuckled softly, your pulse jumping under the press of his mouth. Welt peered up at you behind the thick rim of his glasses, his eyes holding a fond warmth for you.

"You may" he murmured into your skin, his breath ghosting over your skin and sending goosebumps prickling along your arms.

With a graceful smile you pulled your partner to his feet, making him leave his walking stick behind as you continued to pull him to the middle of the train cart. The hum of the train’s engine was barely audible over the music, the lights dimmed as the Astral Express continued to glide across the vast sea of stars in the deepest reaches of space. It was the perfect setting to accompany you both, along with the old and familiar tune. You squealed as Welt suddenly spun you around, lifting his arm high above your head as you twirled before collapsing into his open arms. Your stomach erupted with butterflies, your heart fluttering wildly in your chest as you wrapped your arms loosely around his shoulders. Welt’s hands came to politely rest high on your waist; hands steady on your hips as you slowly swayed to the beat.

This song stirred so many memories, the lyrics reminding you of days that had long passed. You softly hummed along to the tune, your eyes never once straying from your partner’s as you gently stepped in time to the slow, melodic beat. Your fingers walked along the seam of his coat, flicking at the small specks of lint that clung to the material as a warm noise of content stirred in the back of your throat. When was the last time you had danced like this?

"Do you remember when we first heard this song?" you asked.

A soft hum stirred in Welt’s throat and you could see the twinkle of recognition in his eyes. His thumbs brushed along your hip bones as he stared down at you with lidded eyes, the memories that jumped to the forefront of his mind still so fresh that he could have sworn that they only happened yesterday. He smiled fondly at the memory.

"Your hair was a little longer back then" he replied.

One of his hands left your waist, his large palm coming to gently rest on your face and cup your warm cheek. Wisps of your hair curled around the tips of his fingers as he tucked a few loose strands behind your ear, his voice barely above a breathy whisper as he continued to recall.

"We took that long walk along the beach. I still remember the way the moonlight shone through your clothes."

"Do you mean after I took them off?" you responded with a devious smirk.

You jumped in his grasp when his fingers roughly pinched your hip in retaliation, causing your body to press further against his. A warm laugh bubbled up his throat as his arms wrapped around your waist, large hands brushing against the small of your back to usher you closer. You pouted up at him, arms coiling around his neck as you continued to dance among the stars. You nuzzled the tip of your nose against his cheek as you took a deep breath, the familiar scent of his cologne curling in your lungs and making your head feel a little giddy.

"We spent hours there, among the sand and the stars" you quietly added.

"I thought that night would never end" Welt mumbled, his hot breath fanning across your cheek.

You tipped your head back, your lips ghosting over his when you spoke.

"I didn’t want it to" you admitted.

"Nor did I, my dear."

You could feel a constellation of tears clinging to the edges of your lashes as a lump formed in your throat. Stars above, how did you ever manage to meet such a beautiful man such as him. You were on the verge of tears, ready to burst apart at the seams as your heart swelled with pure affection for the man you held so tightly in your arms. The music from the phonogram faded into the distance, silence permeating the air once more as you and Welt continued to dance. Minutes seemed to stretch on for hour, the warmth of Welt’s embrace tempting you to stay, silently pleading for you to never let go. You both stopped dancing when the time felt right, your chest feeling light as you stepped back. You sniffled loudly, wiping your fingers under your eyes to brush away the tears that clung to the corners of your vision.

"Okay, this reminiscing is making me all teary eyed. I think it’s time we turned in for the night. Come on Grandpa, time to get you into bed."

Welt chuckled as he quirked a bemused eyebrow at you. "Grandpa? Come now, I’m not that old."

"You have grey hairs" you retorted.

"And so do you."

You huffed loudly, a sad pout tugging at your lips. Welt adored the look and he couldn’t help but to wrap his arms around you again, his lips brushing against your face to try and ease the tension from it.

"Come now love, you’re still as beautiful as the day I met you."

You hummed at his words, leaning into his touch as your body started to relax. "I see you haven’t lost your charm."

Welt smiled as he kissed your forehead, the gesture holding more affection than words could ever comprehend.

[m0chac0ffee]

I made TWO alternate endings for this!

I appreciate the love you guys have given me on that post, and it warms my heart to see how many people enjoy my bare minimum of writing.

Warnings! Character Death, Angst, and tooth-rotting fluff

————————————————————————

(Slight Angst Ending.)

"Thank you, come again."

Simon was wiping a coffee cup dry as he said goodbye to the last customer of the day. He cleaned up the café, and flipped the sign on the door that said 'Closed'.

He grabbed his belongings from the back, and shut off the lights to the small building. Getting into his car, he drives back home. He arrives to his average sized home, and walks in to a dark house.

"I'm home."

Simon said to no one as he flipped the lights on. He shrugged off his jacket and made his way to your shared bedroom.

Simon took a moment to stare into your eyes, then glanced at the box that held your wedding ring that was beside your photo on his bedside.

"How've you been, love? Haven't seen you in a while, the café has been getting more customers lately. They really like your recipes for the drinks. Says they're one of a kind."

He sat down on your bed, eyes still trained on your photo.

A moment of silence passed before Simon spoke in a softer, quieter tone.

"Miss you, ya' know? Made a promise to me, to us, and you couldn't hold your end of the bargain." He chuckled bitterly, knowing you would've had a snarky remark about the playful jab.

...

"Kept the house clean, been feeding Riley, and... I'm taking care of myself. Just how you'd like it."

....

"Wish you were here. Could'a ran this café together, like you said."

A sullen look adorned his features as he fiddled with the engagement ring on his ring finger. A matte black ring for him, and a beautiful silver ring for you.

" ...I love you." Simon added, not expecting a response as he sighed heavily. Nearly as heavy as his heart was as he grieved the loss of his one and only.

He showered, changed, and got ready for bed. Lying on his side of the bed, he turned to face your side and placed a hand on the empty space next to him.

"Goodnight, love."

————————————————————————

(Fluff Ending)

"Simon! I need a Vanilla Chai Latte!"

"On it, love."

The café was overflowing with customers. You and Simon were hard at work with a few other employees.

"Here you go." He slid a cup full of Vanilla Chai Latte to you as you grabbed a plate and a teaspoon. He snuck a quick peck on the cheek before he left to fulfill the rest of the orders.

You delivered the orders with a smile on your face. After all the customers were satisfied and left, you and Sjmon began to clean the café. You had said goodnight to your employees and were buffing the tables as Simon slid an arm around your waist from behind.

"Need some help, love?"

"If you don't mind." You turned your head to give him a chaste kiss on the lips before smiling softly at Simon.

"Gotcha."

Minutes went by, and you were still cleaning, so you decided to play music on your phone.

"You in the mood for Frank Sinatra?"

"Not really." Simon playfully replied.

"Too bad, I am."

You opened the music streaming app you used and began to play Frank Sinatra on shuffle. A few songs played as you finished up, until a certain one reached your ears. The World We Knew began to play, and Simon placed down what he was holding, approached you, and he held out his hand to you.

"May I have this dance?"

"Now?"

"Yes, now."

You pretended to think about his offer before taking his hand and placing down the rag you were holding.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and his hands rested on your hips as you began to slow dance.

Over and over, I keep going over the world we knew.

Once when you walked beside me.

That inconceivable, that unbelievable world we knew.

When we two, were in love.

Your head rested on his chest.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For keeping your promise."

...

"Of course, Simon. I would never break a promise with you."

Simon kissed your forehead and rested his head atop of yours.

"I love you."

————————————————————————

I don't know how I feel about these actually, I didn't even like revise or open a google/word document. I just winged it.

[deadcrowcalling]

the olive theory

Neil hates almonds, and Todd loves them. Giving almonds to Todd becomes a tradition, lasting even after one's death.

warnings: angst? major character death (canon-compliant), grief, sad :(, some fluff at the beginning maybe, not proof read we die like neil, bad formatting due to the fact i'm writing this on my phone in the notes app lmao, ooc writing??

a/n: my first fic yayyy!! this was supposed to be rlly sweet and fluffy anderperry but it most definitely isnt :(

It was an oddly well known fact around Welton that Neil Perry did not like, perhaps even despised almonds. It was a not-so well known fact that Todd Anderson loved almonds. 

"Who wants my almonds?" Neil spoke over the hubbub of the dining room. One boy named Anthony had snuck in bags of trail mix from town and had been using them as payment for notes and homework answers for weeks.

Todd immediately perked up. He gestured for Neil to hand him the almonds, and as he did, Todd immediately put a few in his mouth and began to chew.

Charlie, who had been in the middle of telling off Cameron, quirked his eyebrow at Todd. "Since when have you liked almonds so much?"

"I love almonds," Todd said in his usual quiet tone. "Always have."

Charlie scoffed. "Where were you all those times Neil made me eat the damn almonds?"

Todd shrugged and kept eating the almonds. Neil watched as the scene progressed. "If i had known you liked almonds so much, Todd, i would've given them to you sooner," he smiled.

And so a tradition began, if Neil received almonds, they'd go to Todd.

•December 10, 1959

"Meeting tonight?" Todd asked Neil as he sped up to walk at the same pace as the brunet. 

Neil hummed. "Oh, that's reminds me," his hand traveled to his pocket and pulled out a bag of almonds. Todd's eyes brightened. "I've had everyone forfeit their almonds from Anthony's trail mix for the last few days."

"You didn't have to do that," Todd smiled sheepishly, taking the bag from Neil.

"I wanted to." Neil smiled. "You're my friend, and nobody else likes almonds, with good reason,"

"Hey!" Todd interrupted. "Almonds are great."

"Whatever you have to tell yourself." Neil shrugged, shaking his head as Todd rolled his eyes.

That night in the cave, as Pitts read a poem from the book, Neil bumped Todd's shoulder. In his hand was an almost-empty bag of trail mix, everything gone except the almonds. Todd gratefully took the bag from Neil's hand and began to eat.

•December 13, 1959

Neil paced back and forth in his shared room with Todd, reciting his lines as Todd wrote something in his notebook. Per usual, he had a bag of almonds next to him, snacking away.

"Have you told everyone when the play is?" Neil asked nervously. "I don't want anyone missing it."

Todd nodded. "You mentioned it at the last meeting, remember? And you've already told Mr. Keating."

Neil sighed. "Oh, yeah, right."

Todd set his notebook and pencil down. "Is everything alright? You seem on edge." 

"It's just, the play, my father, it's-" he sighed, messing with his fingers. "Nerves."

Todd hummed. "You'll do great, i know it. You'll be the next Frank Sinatra within no time." he smiled. Neil's mouth rose into a small smile. Todd gently kicked at his leg from his perch on his bed. "If they ever remake Around the World in 80 Days, you better be in it. I'll go see every showing of it if you do." 

Neil smiled and sighed. "I'm getting worked up over nothing. Thank you, Todd. For everything."

Todd smiled and continued eating his almonds. Neil groaned and mumbled about how he had zero taste for liking something so disgusting and Todd giggled.

•December 15, 1959

Todd was right. Neil did amazing. But, to the poet's disappointment, Todd wasn't able to inform his friend of his success before Neil's father dragged him into a car and drove off, not before telling Keating to stay away from Neil.

On the way back to Welton, Todd wondered how much trouble Neil would be in. His gut felt uneasy with worry. Mr. Perry was in no way fond of Neil's longing for an acting career, everyone knew that, even though he was spectacular. 

Todd tossed and turned in his bed for what felt like hours. Eventually falling asleep, he was soon rudely awoken by Charlie. He slowly opened his eyes, blinking the sleep out of them. Charlie was... crying? The rest of the poets stood in the doorway. "What is it?" 

Charlie took a shaky breath. "Neil's dead."

Todd's insides were buzzing. The air felt thick and it felt like he was drowning. His ears rung with a painful sharpness and his brain ached. "What?" His voice was feeble, and his tone quivered. 

Charlie sniffed. "He-" he wiped a tear off his face. "They said he killed himself."

Todd shook his head. "No-no..." he chuckled nervously. "Neil wouldn't do that. He- he wouldn't kill himself."

"Todd.." Knox said.

"No!" he said, voice a bit louder than it should be. "Neil wouldn't leave us. He- he wouldn't leave us. Why.. why would he do that? You're lying." His breath was unsteady now, and his chest rose and fell with an unstable pattern. 

"I wish i was. I really, really do, Todd." Charlie said, voice shaking.

•December 18, 1959

Neil's funeral was somber. His mother was hysterical, sobbing the entire time while his father stared on, face expressionless as people spoke about his late son.

Todd's eyes never left his feet. Not while he was carrying his friends casket, not while he was speaking about his friend, not while they were putting him in the ground. God, they were putting him in the ground. Snow fell upon the dirt as they shoveled it upon the casket that held Neil's body. Todd felt numb even thinking about it.

The night they returned to Welton was hell. Todd walked into his room, some part of him still expecting to see Neil's smiling face practicing lines or doing trig homework.

Todd sat at Neil's desk and immediately fell apart. He sobbed into his hands just looking at the dogeared pages in Neil's chemistry book or the pencil shavings sitting on the desk. A single pencil sat out. Todd opened the top drawer of the desk to put it away, and sobbed even harder at what he saw. A little plastic bag of almonds, Todd's name written across it in permanent marker.

it was an oddly well-known fact at Welton that before his death, Neil Perry did not like almonds.

Now, neither did Todd.

[pmitchell]

getting the hang of it. (pt. 1) | jake “hangman” seresin x reader 

warnings: A sexual harassment scene, please tread carefully. MORE ANGST! I swear writing angst with Hangman is just fun, there’s a slight fluffy scene on this one, but the next one will have even more!

pairings: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x reader

word count: 2,539 (9 minutes reading time)

author’s notes: I’m proud of the title ok :) hahaha. Anyway, reader is Penny Benjamin’s younger sister; biological, adopted, half-sibling, you’re free to choose! 

EDIT: Part two is right here!

Your sister had warned you about the pilots who were regulars at her bar; do not engage in anything with them, and if one asked you to get on a plane with them, say no. Right off the bat, you already knew which ones are trouble. The guy that looked like a Malibu Ken doll was called Hangman; his friend Coyote was the cute and nice one, but seemed to be in the habit of hanging out with the wrong crowd; and then there’s Rooster. To quote your sister, Penny, he’s the sweet and damaged one.

There’s a table at the Hard Deck right by the jukebox that basically had your name on it; everybody knew that’s where you would always sit and for some reason there was an unwritten rule that only you and your invited guests can sit around there. The first day of TOPGUN training for the new recruits and Hangman was already leaning over the jukebox, putting in a quarter and picking an uptempo love song from the 80s.

“God, I love this song!” He said, looking at you. “Don’t you?”

You looked up from your book and shrugged, “I’m more of a Frank Sinatra kind of girl,” you said over the noise.

He acknowledged your answer with a slow nod, “Hangman,” he offered his hand to shake yours. 

“That’s unfortunate,” you shook his hand, pretending like Penny hadn’t already briefed you that the pilots would always introduce themselves with callsigns, just like your father did. 

“It’s my callsign,” he explained.

“Ah,” you nodded, going back to reading your book without introducing yourself or entertaining the fact that he was a pilot.

“Why are you reading at a bar?” He asked.

“I’m waiting for a friend, and generally when people see the book, they leave me alone,” you answered, hinting that he should do so as well.

Hangman pursed his lips, his ego clearly hurt by your rejection since he was used to having girls fawn all over him. “Duly noted, Ma’am,” he nodded out of respect. “I will leave you alone,” he said.

“Thank you,” you nodded in return.

“Are you following me?” Hangman suddenly asked while you were tending the bar one night.

“Excuse me?” You asked as you wiped down the beer glasses you had just rinsed.

“I thought you said you wanted me to leave you alone, and yet here you are at my favorite bar,” he smirked.

You shook your head, amazed how he could just twist and turn things to fit his little scenario.

“I think I should be the one saying that to you since this is my sister’s bar?” You raised an eyebrow.

Hangman raised an eyebrow to mirror yours. “Penny’s your sister?” He asked.

“Mhm,” you nodded. “So you be careful now, because one wrong step and I have the authority to ring that bell,” you looked over at the bell right above your head, and so did he.

Over the next few weeks, Hangman would continue to try and talk to you. Sometimes you’d help Penny at the bar when you’ve got nothing better to do, or just hangout there with your friends and he would be absolutely relentless. Asking Penny about you or even trying to woo your friend into giving him your number. You’d fall for his charms if you noticed how he could be just the worst bully at times.

Some college kids were learning how to play pool at the table, and he’d intimidate them enough into giving it up. Sometimes he’d even bully the other pilots, which you thought should be breaking some kind of bro code at the Navy. 

Hangman even bullied your date into dumping you right before your second date. He saw him pick you up at the bar and he had been fuming out of his ears all night, especially when your date led you out to the patio where he gave you a kiss and promised to meet you again next weekend. When next weekend rolled around, you waited for him at the bar, but he was a no show.

“Hangman told him to never come back,” Jimmy said, handing you a glass of beer.

“What?” You asked, incredulous.

“Young man was here half an hour ago, but then Hangman told him you weren’t interested and that he shouldn’t come back. So he left,” Jimmy shrugged, going away to the other patrons.

You turned to the pool tables where Hangman was bent over, lining his stick with the cue ball, and marched towards him. He looked up just in time to see you with smoke coming out of your ears.

“What is your problem?” You asked, keeping your voice level even if you wanted to slap that smug smile off his face so badly.

“I don’t follow,” he shrugged.

“You just can’t stand it, can you? You can’t take the fact that I refuse to fall head over heels for you and worship the ground you walk on, so now you make it a point to just vex me?” You called him out right in front of the other pilots.

Hangman was truly taken aback, never been called out in front everyone like this before. He tried to speak, but he truly could not think of any justifications for his action other than seeing you with someone else made him utterly jealous.

“You know what? If you hadn’t been such a jerk, you might have had a slight chance, but that is long gone now,” you said, turning back on your heels and grabbing your purse to head out. Disappointed and annoyed that you had gotten all dressed up and cute for nothing because of him.

Right as you were about to walk out the door, Penny rang the bell and looked at Hangman pointedly. First time in the history of The Hard Deck, a Navy pilot was going to have to buy rounds for everybody. The man sighed, mood ruined and completely defeated as everybody cheered. Your visits to The Hard Deck lowered after that, and if you did visit, you made it a point to stay far away from him. If you happened to be helping Penny tend the bar, he would not be the one ordering.

People say there is a thin line between love and hate. It was not the case for you. You strongly hated the man who thinks he was better than everyone else and that he can get away with anything. For him, however, the line was a little bit blurry. Ever since you confronted him and his ego was bruised, he had been living in denial; he didn’t know how to deal his feelings for you. So, like most babies and teenagers, he lashed out and decided that if you hated him, then he hated you too.

You remembered watching Hangman celebrate graduating TOPGUN with the rest of the pilots and that he had been at the top of his class. You helped Penny carry their beers and food out to the patio; you could feel his eyes on you, but you refused to look up to meet them. Setting the cartons of cold beer and a platter of seafood on the table, you went back inside and that was the last you saw of him.

That was until today. Wearing a blue satin dress that hugged your wonderful figure, you stopped by The Hard Deck for some drinks. You sat on one of the bar stools and pulled your hair up, fanning yourself at the heat and humidity even if your dress was revealing plenty.

“You’re back early,” Penny said, looking at her watch that said 8PM. How was the wedding?” Penny asked, handing you a cold bottle of beer that you immediately pressed to your neck, relieved to finally feel something cold against your skin.

“Horrible,” you said, taking a gulp. “There was nothing to eat over there. Oh, and her ex showed up and interrupted the best man’s speech during the reception,” you explained, taking another gulp.

“No way,” Penny chuckled, taking a rag and wiping the table off a little.

“That’s not the worst part. His ex showed up at the ceremony and said “I object!” during the whole “speak now or forever hold your peace” thing,” you stated.

Penny gasped. “Oh my God, I would’ve loved to see that!”

You chuckled, but then gasped again as you felt the heat creeping up on you. “It is like a thousand degrees in here!” You exclaimed, pulling your hair up again and fanning yourself. Penny ducked down to look for a piece of paper you could use as a fan, and your eyes caught something–or rather, someone–familiar approaching the bar.

“Penny, my dear,” he called out. Penny stood straight back up. Oh, you could not mistake that voice. “Four beers, please,” he asked.

“Coming right up,” she said, and finally moved out of the way so he could clearly see you and you could clearly see him.

Two years since the last time you met and he looked somewhat more mature, especially when he wasn’t wearing his Navy uniforms. You wondered if you should say hi or at least smile, but Penny came back with four beers and handed it to him before you could figure it out. He smiled sweetly at her, and just before he turned around completely, he took a glance at you. You weren’t sure if he was smiling at you as well.

“What the heck?” You leaned in close to your sister, slightly bent over the bar.

“They came back yesterday, called to do something about a top secret mission,” Penny filled you in.

“And you only thought to mention this to me now?” You raised a brow, putting on an offended face.

“The naval base is literally right there. They’re bound to come back sooner or later,” Penny said.

“And since when are you so chummy?” You asked again, referring to the way he called your sister ‘dear’.

“I always liked him,” she shrugged as if it was no big deal. “He never did anything to offend me because he doesn’t want to get on the other end of the bell again,” she pointed out with a classic Penny Benjamin smirk.

“Traitor,” you declared.

Your sister laughed as she handed a bottle of beer to another patron. “Come on, (Y/N), that was two years ago. How long are you going to still hate him over a date you don’t even know was going to work out?”

“If the date wasn’t going to work out, who was he to say anything? At least let me figure that out on my own since, I don’t know, it was my date,” you rambled on.

“Okay, calm down,” your sister said because other patrons standing around you were looking at you now. “Why don’t you head out the back and I’ll get you some dinner?” Penny offered.

“Fine,” you grumbled, taking your purse and beer off the bar stool before you squeezed your way through the crowd to the patio.

As soon as the cool breeze hit your skin, you sighed in relief. You gathered your hair into a bun and found a clip in your purse to hold it in place as you leaned on the railing. You couldn’t exactly see the ocean waves, but you could hear it crashing to the shore.

“Got stood up?” A voice called out. When you looked back you saw a man older than you standing in the doorway, his hand holding a bottle of beer. His hair was unkempt, his beard looked like there are crumbs of potato chips in it, and from the flush of his skin, you knew he was drunk.

“No, just came to check on my sister. I’m headed home soon,” you told him, hoping it was dismissive enough that he becomes discouraged.

You could hear the thump of his boots on the wooden patio approaching you, however, making you sigh. He stood right next to you, hand circling your waist and pulling you close. You could feel your heart beating against your chest, your palms sweaty and your fingertips cold as you twisted yourself out of his hands.

“Oh come on, you don’t have to play hard to get,” the man smirked. His hand moved again, this time grabbing your ass. You could feel your heart plunge to your stomach.

“Stop it!” You shouted, shoving his hand away. You could see that it did not discourage him, and when he moved forward again, your arm swung and punched him square in the nose. Your own action took you by surprise, not sure where you had found the courage to do that.

The man bent over, holding his nose. “You bitch!” He screamed.

The pain of your knuckles coming in contact with his nose shot right through every nerve in your body and you gasped in pain, holding your knuckle with your left hand to soothe the pain. Suddenly, the man grabbed you by your arms as he glared at you, a hint blood trickling down his nose. You tried to kick him away, but his firm grip pulled you flush against his body, immobilizing you. You could smell the alcohol on him and it made you wince in disgust.

“Hey!” Hangman appeared at the door, immediately shoving the guy away. The man toppled to the ground just as the other pilots came to your aid. Hangman shielded you from him and stared the man, who now looked shorter as he cowered, down.

“Apologize to the lady,” Hangman said, gripping the man by his collars. “Apologize!” He barked, jerking the limp man.

“S-sorry! Sorry!” He shouted, looking more scared of Hangman than actually feeling remorse.

Hangman shoved him away and turned to you while his friends restrained him and escorted him out. He gently placed a hand on your arm and you flinched a little until you saw that it was him and he guided you to sit down on one of the chairs.

“You’re hopped up on adrenaline,” the man said, kneeling right in front of you. He took off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, leaving him in a white t-shirt. You didn’t realize that you were shivering until you felt the warmth on your skin. Hangman looked at your hand, red and raw after punching the man so hard.

Penny came running. “Oh my God, are you okay?” She asked, squatting down right next to Hangman right in front of you.

You couldn’t find the words to answer her but you nodded slowly.

“She’s in shock,” Hangman said. “She should go home and put some ice on that hand,” he said to your sister.

Penny looked back at the bar and then at you, realizing that she was understaffed tonight, but you were far more important than a few angry patrons. She brushed your hair back, “Okay, I’ll-uh, I’ll tell Jimmy to close down early. Let’s get you home, okay?”

“No, no, don’t do that,” you shook your head, not wanting your sister close down the bar at 8 PM when it was just starting to get busy.

“I’ll take her home,” Hangman offered.

taglist: @dindjarinneedsahug @thespeeder​ @nothing2113 @hazelgirl355 @lgg5989 @bellamy1998

part two will be up shortly!

[sealz888]

I saw your fallout headcanon post! So i gotta know ur thoughts on Dean Domino! (<- loves that bastard too much)

Thank you for the asks @porcelain-animatronic and anon! Apologises this took really long. I have two other asks (involving Hancock and Ahzrukahl) which'll hopefully be out soon. I've had a lot going on lately, so I appreciate your patience! A heads-up, I haven't personally played Dead Money, so I hope you can forgive me if it's canon conflicting. My dumbass wrote Christina, instead of Christine.

Dean Domino

I really like the head canon that Dean has beef with pre-war singers, I feel like he’s got major beef with Frank Sinatra.

He was a childhood prodigy. His talent was discovered at a young age by his mother, who made him sign up to a childhood talent TV show. He won and only skyrocketed from there, hence his ego.

At some point when he turned 14, he lost his fame and became, for lack of a better term, “washed out” and he fell into the background. His mother wasn’t too happy about this, so he ran away to Vegas, and he’d get by busking and later performing at mid-end clubs. 

That was until he got into hot water at 17 after he was caught with chems. This actually skyrocketed him to fame again. Everyone was booking him in.

A playboy for sure, he flirted with anyone to get his way. Especially when he met Vera Keys again to lure her into joining his heist. However, he actually didn’t sleep around unless he was in a relationship with them. His spark and skill in flirting died down, but he's trying to get it back.

Really pissed off about his hair loss, but is glad about how he kept his moustache. Once he got out of the Sierra Madre, he left and immediately went to find a wig. 

After which, he immediately went to the Tops to find a job. It was hard at first to get on the strip considering ghouls aren’t allowed in without humans, but assuming Mr House is still alive and recognises him or the NCR allows ghouls onto the strip, he eventually manages. Convincing people he is Dean Domino was the harder part. Tommy eventually relented and let him perform. Now exclusively performs there.

Christine Royce

Perfect childhood friends with Veronica. They’re friends to lovers. Romanced her by bringing her all sorts of junk she could disassemble and reassemble. 

Got along with Elijah, but Christine parents thought that they were just “”really, *really* close gal-pals.” Eventually they couldn’t deny it that their daughter was a lesbian was sort of came to terms of it. 

They did push the two to at least surrogate, at least were the most polite about it.

Christine would watch and listen to Veronica talk and talk about historical texts and engineering for hours and hours on end, falling in love with her more. 

She was always slightly suspicious of Elijah, despite Elijah’s politeness, he was always trying to drive the two apart once everything came out. 

When she was first assigned to track him down, she’d write letters to Veronica, but she never got them, unfortunately. Upon encountering the courier, the courier put two and two together and told her about Veronica. 

Veronica, upon hearing about Christine broke down into tears on the strip, a few steps away into the Lucky 38. Veronica was hysterical and getting comforted by Arcade and Lily. They had a chat that lasted for hours explaining everything. She found about Elijah (I hc to personally have him trapped in the vault.)

Unsure of what to do, Veronica wanted to track her down and get her to become a member of the Followers. At some point, Veronica figured out to radio communicate with her. While Christina had to use Morse code to communicate, she was over the moon. Eventually, with the help of Raul over the radio, she managed to get the Autodoc to her reconstruct her vocal cords. However, she is absolutely terrified of Autodocs still and claustrophobic.

A year later, they decided to get married over the radio, and it was a big event, being broadcasted in a few places in Freeside and throughout the Sierra Madre, even Dean Domino and Dog/God dropped by to send her a message congratulating them. As the courier knew the King, he performed “love me tender” at their wedding and Lily, along with help from Cass and other followers, made them wedding garments. I can see Veronica in a pretty dress while Christina is in a suit, however, she could also wear a dress too.

Veronica also informed the BOS of what happened to Elijah and Christina. Christina's parents were overjoyed that she was alive, but still sent their reluctant congratulations to the newly-weds. Some of their old comrades also sent them well wishes.

Dog/God

I don't have a whole lot, but they're one of my favourite mutants.

Dog often mistakes the courier as the Master due to the look in their eyes, their tone of voice is similar to the master too.

Dog/God managed to become one personality again thanks to the couriers help. While the group leaves, they discuss names, but doesn’t like any of those. The courier encourages the newly reborn mutant to think for himself and choose his own name.

He tries to settle down at various settlements, Novac, Freeside, Westside eventually hearing about Utobitha. After arriving, Neil, recognised him by the scar on his chest and confused that the two personalities became one. After a long convo and explanation, Neil recognised the courier and redirected him to Jacobstown. 

While at Jacobstown, many supermutants and nightkin remembered him, but he did not remember himself. It was a *long* week explaining what happened.  With the help of others, he names himself Alexander. 

Alexander, decided to help Jacobstown by supporting his fellow Nightkin and became a wandering trade. He reached out to other settlements and offered to exchange goods and open up trades

He never really saw or heard from the courier again after stopping by to wish Veronica and Christine well wishes.

[ghost-with-a-teacup]

𝐈 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐀 𝐑𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐲 ~ 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Summary: On a quiet Sunday afternoon you relish in the peace and quiet, the soft sound of rain and music from the record player are the only things that could be heard. John takes this moment to hold you close, swaying along to the beat. OR You dance in the living room with our dear Captain Price, and he graces you with his singing voice. Pairing: John Price x Reader (no pronouns used!) Word Count: 0.6K, short and sweet :)) Warnings: None! It's just really, really soft. Author's Note: I know I literally just posted a fic today but this came to mind and I thought it would work so freaking well with Captain Price. First time writing for him, hope you lovelies enjoy!!

The world was quiet today, you had noticed. It was as if everything decided to simply settle down if only for a little while. The only sounds were the soft pitter-patter of the rain against the windows, the sky grey, but calm.

In the background, the record player that sat just off to the side of the living room played a collection of old-timey classics as you laid curled up on the couch. A book rested in your hand as you allowed yourself to relax on the Sunday afternoon after a hectic week prior.

It was perfect.

Passively you hummed along to the music as it crackled while the vinyl spun, occasionally singing along when a favourite song came on.

Then you hear the click of the door unlocking, and familiar footsteps make their way in from the rainy outdoors. The soft rustle of bags could be heard as John came home from grocery shopping.

Peeking in through the doorway, he makes note of the relaxing atmosphere before placing the bags down on the ground.

“Well don’t you look cozy,” he says amusedly, walking over before pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“That’s because I am,” you say with a grin, relishing in his gentle touch.

In an instant he grabs hold of your hands, pulling you up from the couch with ease.

“Hey!” you protest, although you were curious as to what he was up to.

“Indulge me for a moment, won’t you love?” he says before twirling you along to the sound of Frank Sinatra’s voice. You can only laugh joyfully as you take in his youthful expression, smile wide and eyes crinkled.

He pulls you in close, hands holding onto your waist as he sways you back and forth to the beat. You push yourself closer, laying your head on his chest, ears tuned in to the thump of his heart.

“And when I hear you call so softly to me,

I don’t hear a call at all, I hear a rhapsody.”

John sings softly, the low timbre of his voice washing over you like a tidal wave. Your eyes snap up to his in surprise, he wasn’t one for singing often after all. Yet when he did, it was like you were graced by the presence of Orpheus himself.

Like a siren he drew you in, and you couldn’t get enough.

“And when your sparkling eyes are smiling at me,

Then soft through the starlit skies, I hear a rhapsody”

He trails his fingers over your cheek tenderly, blue eyes shining bright with a love that held a depth deeper than the endless sea. Between each phrase that he sang, he pressed a kiss to your face. Forehead, cheeks, nose, each one so soft you felt as though your heart had melted into a puddle.

“My days are so blue when you’re away,

My heart longs for you, so won’t you stay?”

This time you sang along as well because it held truth. Every time he was deployed, out for missions that he might never come home from, he took a part of your soul with him. And every time he returns home to you, he puts the piece back into place. Only with him by your side were you whole. Your dear husband, John Price.

“My darling, hold me tight and whisper to me,

Then soft through the starry night, I hear a rhapsody.”

The vinyl slows down to a stop as you both finish the song together, and only the sound of rain remains as you hold each other close.

John leans down to capture your lips in a soft kiss, lips moving together in synchrony. No words needed to be said, each other’s presence in this moment was enough.

[hooked-on-elvis]

"FOOLS RUSH IN (WHERE ANGELS FEAR TO TREAD)"

A song that grew on Elvis' liking, completely changing its rhythm before he decided to officially record it in the 70s.

Lyrics written by Johnny Mercer with music by Rube Bloom.

Elvis' version of "Fools Rush In" was first officially released on the album "Elvis Now" on February 20, 1972. Recording date: May 18, 1971. Released peak chart position: #43 Pop, #45 Country. RIAA status: Gold.

This is a 1940's popular song. It has been recorded many times over the years, including by Frank Sinatra, Julie London, Etta James, Brenda Lee, Doris Day, Dean Martin and many other singers before and after Elvis' recording in 1972, but the major hit was Rick Nelson's version, released in 1963. And here is where things get interesting.

You can listen to Nelson's recording below, which is pretty much similar to Elvis' cover on the rhythm and pace of the tune. I gotta say the echo on the voice channel in Nelson's recording doesn't please me much. It's a fair good recording, sure, but Elvis' one... it's dreamy! Like, I dare you not to fall head over feet in love with it.

According to "Elvis Presley: A Life in Music" book, by Ernst Jorgensen, Elvis was familiar to this song since the 60s, at least. And the best part is: He recorded the song back then during non-professional home recordings, on June 1966. Unfortunately the song is not fully sang but it's enough for us to see the rhythm is completely different from the official recording Presley came with in 1972. It's jazzy, soothing and peaceful, certainly inspired by one of the 40's versions of the song, such as Billy Eckstine recording released in 1947:

It was common for EP to decide recording his favorite songs, so it's great "Fools Rush In" came as a personal choice for his official recordings.

Chapter 10 - "1966: HOW GREAT THOU ART":

Singing and playing music with friends had always been a part of Elvis’s home life, but lately it had taken a new turn. Red West had bought two semiprofessional tape recorders for Elvis to use in producing demos, and Charlie Hodge had topped touring with country music veteran Jimmy Wakely and moved into Red’s Hollywood apartment to go to work for Elvis again full-time. Red was writing a lot of songs, and Charlie sometimes helped in overdubbing the demos he was putting together. They got Glen Campbell, then working as a session musician, and paid him twenty dollars to play guitar on some of the demos. Sometimes Red and Charlie would take the tape recorders over to Elvis at Rocca Place and the trio would lay down tracks, alone or with whoever else was around. Not surprisingly they turned often to their favorite gospel numbers — "Show Me Thy Ways", "He," "Hide Thou Me," "Oh, How I Love Jesus," or "I, John," another song Elvis would eventually record. Other times they simply tried anything that caught their fancy, from old standards like "Fools Rush In" and "It’s A Sin To Tell A Lie" to more contemporary material — "Blowin’ In The Wind," "What Now My Love," and "500 Miles." Often they dug into old country standards, and sometimes they even got Elvis to sing along on Red’s new tunes. In the intense yet comfortable atmosphere of collaboration with friends, Elvis had found an alternative to the endlessly tedious soundtrack recording process; at home he could work away at the music he loved, and that in its own rough way made a truer musical statement than anything he was likely to do under the employ of a Hollywood movie factory.

It's curious to me how Elvis leaned to Rick Nelson's 60s upbeat version of the same song himself sang in the 60s, instead of going with its more calm, 40s swing-era sound when he decided to turn "Fools Rush In" into an official recording of his own. In spite the fast-pace sound of the 1972 recording, Elvis carried the same passion in his voice he had on the 1966 home recording. Both versions sound like EP's pleading someone's love wholeheartedly. Probably his choice to go with the 60s version of this tune when covering it officially was a financial decision, thinking about the hit Rick Nelson's version was and also considering how the music in the 70s was no longer meant for "fools in love" confessing their deepest feelings in that fancy, elegant manner, more than it was better shouted from the top of its lungs for the whole world to hear - that's exactly how the 1972 Elvis version (inspired by the 60s version) sounds for me. Unafraid, prideful, rather than a secret spoken under one's breathes like the 40s versions sounds like (which I'm not complaining at all… it's beautiful anyway). Either a soothing ballad or a fast-pace tune, in general, "Fools Rush In (Where Angels Fear to Tread)" is a touching, encouraging, lovely song. ♥

I personally prefer the 70s version released by Elvis, but what about you? Which "Fools Rush In" version did you like best?

[lostfirefly]

With each word your tenderness grows, tearing my fear apart, and that laugh that wrinkles your nose, it touches my foolish heart (Ch.2)

Buggy tries to reconcile with Сatherine after the incident at the bar.

English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :)

Warnings: The fluffiest fluff. Pink ponies ran across the keyboard :)

I swear I was writing the lines about crusts when I saw a related post from @hey-august

Buggy x OC from my “You’ve Got the Same Dream as Me” series

Words: 1558

The title is taken from "The Way You Look Tonight" by Frank Sinatra

Taglist: @gingernut1314

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Chapter 1

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Catherine was sitting in the kitchen with a newspaper and her morning coffee when, swaying from the amount of beer he had drunk, Buggy entered the room wearing only his pants.

"Oh, geeeeez. Last night was fun. Good morning, my cotton candy," he scratched his head and flopped back in his chair.

Catherine, still holding the paper, slid the glass of painkiller over to him.

“Thank you so much! You're my best!” He rose from his chair and wanted to kiss her on the lips, but she got up and stepped back to the coffee machine.

"The weather report didn't say anything about a storm. What's wrong?" He watched Catherine’s every move.

She poured him coffee and set out a plate of hot cheese sandwiches with crusts. At the beginning of their relationship, she didn't know about his hatred of crusts and sincerely didn't understand the reason for his endless “ew, gross” whining. But she was always amused by that childish trait of his. Soon, the crust sandwich became her silent way of saying "I'm mad at you." 

He was silent for a second and looked first at the plate, then at Catherine, then back at the plate. "Are you mad? Why?"

She leaned across the table and started writing something on the paper. Buggy tried to make out what she was writing. Catherine showed the "I'm not talking to you" sheet.

“Oh, come on, what did I do?”

She she waved her hands questioningly and started writing something again and showed him the new sheet.

“Figure it out for yourself..” he muttered. “How can I understand what’s wrong if you don't say anything?!” He looked at Catherine with a mute question in his eyes. She finished her coffee and set the mug on the table, glaring at Buggy with an angry look. He could have sworn he saw the flames of hell in her eyes.

“Ok. Fine. I got it. I can play your game too. I'll eat sandwiches with these fucking crusts!” He took two bites of bread, made a face, crossed his arms and looked at her. “Are you happy now?”

She showed big thumbs and left the room. 

Buggy sat in the kitchen for about 30 minutes, periodically rattling cabinet doors and cursing loudly. Then he went into the living room and sat there for a long time. An inner voice told him to get up and go to talk to his girlfriend but stupidity and stubborness sat him back down on the couch. 

Finally he went into the bedroom. “Just for your information, I..” He saw Catherine rummaging through the shelves and putting something into a bag. “W-What are you doing?” He asked with obvious concern in his voice. She kept silent. 

He watched her for a few more minutes, grabbed his t-shirt and slammed the door. Catherine sat down on the bed, sighed heavily and wiped her wet eyes.

Buggy returned home an hour later. He walked silently through the living room toward the bedroom. When he saw her lying on her side of the bed, a quiet "thanks god, you’re here" escaped his lips. Her eyes were closed.

Catherine opened one eye when she felt something standing in front of her face. A floating hand with a bouquet of yellow chrysanthemums dangled before her eyes. She opened her other eye, smiled slightly, and took the bouquet. At the same time, a second floating hand brought a vase and placed it on the nightstand. Catherine could barely contain her laughter. She lifted herself from the bed, dipped the flowers into the water and lay back down, covering herself with a plaid blanket. She felt something heavy lay down behind her and pressed closer.

“Catherine, my favorite pie. Please, talk to me.” Buggy whispered barely audibly, burying his face in her red hair. She sighed heavily once again. 

He gently placed his hand on her wrist. “Cotton candy.. I-I-I’m s-s-sorry.” She remained silent. He waited for the answer for a couple minutes, then removed his hand and was about to get out of bed.

"I didn't give you permission to leave," came Catherine’s stern voice.

“What?” Buggy asked, confused.

She indicated with her hand at the point where he was a moment ago. Buggy quickly laid back down and buried his face in her hair again. He gently hugged her and moved closer.

“I’m an idiot, yeah?” 

“Totally,” she chuckled.

“I-I-I’m so so sorry if I hurt you. I didn't want to.”

“But you did..”

“Damn me! So so sorry for that. I sometimes don't use my brain before I do or speak something.”

“Sometimes? Are you kidding? Don't tell me about “sometimes”. I've been living with you for several months since the day I almost flew home.” She laughed slightly.

“Oh, I remember that day and our hot night. That was great, agree?” He hugged her tightly.

“You're such a fool. How often do I say that I hate you?” Catherine smiled widely and pressed her back closer to him.

“Every single day, baby. But you're still my favorite ass. You know that?” He kissed the back of her head and said calmly. “It's difficult. Being in a relationship is difficult for me. This is something new and I don’t always know how to react correctly. But I'll learn, I promise.”

They both kept silent for a few minutes. 

“To lose you,” Buggy said quietly.

“What?” Catherine turned her head towards him.

“You asked me about my biggest fear. To lose you. Just these words about betrayal and your friend reminded me..” He looked away, rubbing his hand over her hand. “I’m afraid that one day someone better will come and take you away from me. And you will leave me too.”

Catherine caught on the last word. “Too?” She looked at him and tried to read the reaction to her question in his eyes. 

He fell silent again. She turned to him, covered him with a plaid blanket and took his hand.

“Buggy, if something bothers you and you want to talk.. but if you don't want to talk about it or you're not ready, I don't want to push on you.” 

He exhaled heavily. "Remember that night after you found out about my chop chop abilities? You were crying like a little girl that day..”

“I wasn't crying!!” 

“Liar! You were scared, just admit it.”

“Oh, I'm sorry, it's not every day that I see a person who can assemble and disassemble himself like some kind of fucking Lego!” She said teasingly. 

“Come on, I liked that. You were too cute.” He kissed her forehead. “Well… I mentioned a former friend, also red-haired like you. So.. When we were kids..."

Buggy told her everything. About his friend and the betrayal, even showed her pictures of him. He told her how he'd gotten his powers, how he'd trained on the island. Catherine sat cross-legged on the bed, held his hand, listened attentively, not taking her eyes off Buggy. In his eyes she saw pain and sadness. 

"If I ever meet your Shanks, I'll chop off more than just his other arm," Catherine hadn't expected such an angry tone from herself. “Nobody dares to hurt my clown. Shit.. Now I feel guilty for telling that stupid story and for my question.”

“Don't be, my cotton candy. It’s just.. a hard theme for me. Just don't leave me, please. But if you want…” 

“What? I’m not going to leave you. Where would I go? To the desert to sleep in pyramids? I don't know if you know but It’s cold there. But if I leave.. but I won't. I know, you’ll come for me and take me home.” She moved closer to him, hugged him and ran her fingertips along his cheek “I love you, my Buggy Bear.”

He looked at her with a question in his eyes. “But why? I piss you off sometimes. And.. Look at you and look at me. I’m just a mis…”

She pressed her finger on his lips.

“Don't you dare to finish this sentence and don't dare to say something bad about the man I love. Even if sometimes I want to kill you or cut you into pieces and hide your parts all over fucking Egypt, for some unknown reason you make me happy. Hey, follow my hand. That's how happy I’m with you.” Catherine raised her hand high. “And this is how it is without you.” She lowered her hand to the level of the bed. And repeated the motions again. “Watch again. With you. Without you. Just don’t do this shit again, please. At least try not to.” She laughed and kissed his cheek. 

“I’ll try. But it's hard because.. you know. It's me. It's not easy being in a relationship with me”

“Oh, yes. It's not a child’s play. But I love difficulties” She hugged him and gave him one more kiss on his cheek. 

“Hey.. Are we okay?” 

“Yeah.. Wow! You see how great we are. We talked.” Catherine suddenly laughed out loud to the point of tears. “We’re growing like a real couple. Let's always do this, my little asshole.”

“Your little asshole now owes you a date, right? So! My cotton candy,” Buggy got out of bed and gave her his hand, “Get dressed. I'm taking you for a walk.”

[palmofafreezinghand]

So sorry that you’re out with son poisoning, I hope you’ll get better soon! Can you please write a ficlet for C/E playful teasing and bickering from the sweet little romantic gestures, if you have the energy?

thank you!! 💖 i'm on the mend just kicking myself for neglecting my spf!

The radio was playing an hour of “oldies” for “all the lovebirds,” Dean Martin’s voice filling the cozy bedroom, punctuated by the sound of fabric rustling and a fire crackling. 

Carlisle dog-earred the page, marking his place in the latest issue of Orthopaedic Journal of Sports Medicine. He watched over the page as his wife folded her laundry, brow furrowed ever so slightly as she attempted to make a fitted sheet square. 

“Come here,” Carlisle said from the recliner by the fireplace. 

“I’m busy.” 

“It will only take a moment.” 

She glanced at him quickly, “I’ve fallen for that one before. It never takes just a moment.” 

He laughed lightly, “it’s not that. Just come here, please.” He set his journal on the arm of the chair, holding his free hand out for her to invite her over. 

“You’re making orders now, Doctor?” She grinned, finally putting down her folding as she slowly walked toward him. 

“It worked didn’t it?” He smiled, as she took his hand he stood up. His other hand rested on her waist, leading her into a rhythmless sway to the “old” love song younger than their marriage. 

“Don’t get used to it, you were simply better than that wretched sheet.” She laughed lightly, slinging her arm loosely around his neck, letting her head fall onto his chest. 

They swayed like that for two songs before either spoke. 

“I remember when this one came out,” she said, referring to Frank Sinatra’s “Nice ‘n’ Easy” playing over the stereo.  

“You know you have an impressive memory for your old age,” he smirked. “You probably remember when the dinosaurs died.” 

She looked up from his chest, shaking her head fondly. “You think you’re charming, don’t you?” 

“You used to.” He tightened his grasp around her waist, pulling her closer. 

“I was young then,” she sighed as his hand traveled to her back. 

“You young?” Carlisle gasped theatrically. 

“Such confidence from a man who can be classified as an artifact.” 

“Is that so —” he started. And just like that the laundry and the discussion of new surgical techniques was forgotten for the rest of the night, as it had been hundreds of times before.

send a gesture & pairing for a ficlet!

[journeyintofiction]

hiii, can u a do a Christmas shuri x reader. where its cold in wakanda and they just stay in and make hot coco while watching Christmas movies maybe even set up a tree? <33

I had so much fun writing this and I hope you enjoy!

Happy reading :)

Being from a background where Christmas was celebrated every year with pretty lights, inflatable snowmen, gifts, and all the festivities. Not celebrating it in Wakanda the first year felt odd and somewhat upsetting since it was my favorite holiday as a child. Shuri, as always, picked up on the subtle sadness I had tried so desperately to hide. Upon, telling her how much I missed Christmas, she made it her mission to put-up decorations and celebrate with me. Even Ramonda and the Dora Milaje seemed to take part and enjoy the festivities, and soon enough Wakanda was celebrating it but in a non-traditional way.

The temperature at this time of year is normally a bit warm, but after several days of rain, the temperature dropped dramatically. It made the perfect environment for Christmas treats like hot cocoa, freshly baked cookies, and making gingerbread houses.

“y/n, come before the movie starts and bring hot cocoa please.”

I jumped a bit after hearing Shuri call out for me and get up from the chair I was lounging in, “I’m coming gimme a second.”

I get up and start making hot chocolate for the ladies in the next room before I go over there. Once I have everything ready, I carefully walk over to the family room where everyone is sitting and waiting. I look over to my left and see the Christmas tree is up but not decorated yet and I look down to see garlands, lights, ornaments, and a tree topper laying on the floor in piles.

“Hard at work I see,” I chuckle and set the tray of hot cocoa down.

Shuri smiles at me and grabs a mug, “yes, we are here slaving away while you are in the kitchen making hot cocoa.”

I roll my eyes and turn to Ramonda, Aneka, Ayo, Okoye, and Nakia then ask, “how do you all deal with her.” while handing each of them a steaming mug.

Ramonda shrugs and with a straight face says, “I have to put up with her she’s my daughter.”

We all burst out laughing and see Shuri sputtering and gawking at her mother before she responds, “really mother?”

I walk over, sit next to her and cuddle up to her side and pat her back, “well I put up with you because I love you if that makes you feel any better.” I feel her let out a sigh of exasperation.

Before she replies with a snarky remark I ask, “which movie are we watching together tonight?”

Aneka speaks first, “I have heard good things about The Polar Express.”

I gasp and squeal in delight, “that was my favorite movie when I was back home, I would always watch it in school before we went on break.”

Everyone agreed to watch The Polar Express and got comfortable by grabbing blankets and sipping their drinks. I cuddle up to Shuri and kiss her on the cheek before laying my head on her shoulder. She wrapped her arm around me pulling me even closer and started rubbing my hip in slow soothing motions.

Once the movie ended we got up, stretched a bit, and moved to finish putting up the Christmas tree. I felt like something was missing so I picked up my phone and started looking for holiday music to set the mood. I chose the Frank Sinatra song “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” and pressed play.

“y/n, this is what you would do back home during the holiday season?” Okoye asked while starting to put the lights on the tree.

“Yeah, I did this with my family every year, no matter how rough times were. It was a good time to forget struggles and issues.” I say with a fond smile as I remember the childhood memories associated with Christmas.

We put the garlands on, the ornaments, and finally the tree topper, which was a golden star that shimmered when the light touched it. The other ladies in the room clean up and move to put their mugs in the kitchen leaving Shuri and me with a few minutes alone.

I feel her come up behind me and wrap her arms around my waist to rest her head on my shoulder. She sighs softly and asks, “I hope this has helped to relieve your homesickness?”

I nod and hum, overwhelmed at the feeling of being home away from home. I turned around in her arms, “thank you my love for being so accommodating.”

She rests her forehead against mine, “of course.”

We lean in at the same time to share a kiss, just as things get heated, we hear someone snickering and turn to look.

“If you two are done making out, we would like to watch another movie,” Ramonda says with a smile.

“Mother!”

A/N: Hello lovely people I hope all of you are doing well! For the anon who requested this, I hope that you enjoy it! I freaking love the holiday season and Christmas will always have a special place in my heart. As always please forgive any grammatical errors and please send any requests you may have :)

[justforbooks]

Few songwriters have been able to enjoy hits across six decades, as well as the bonus of a dramatic revival of interest in their work during the later years of their careers. Burt Bacharach, who has died aged 94, could claim both.

With his writing partner Hal David, Bacharach launched himself into the front rank of pop songwriters with a brilliant streak of hits for Dionne Warwick during the 1960s, beginning in 1962 with Don’t Make Me Over and proceeding through (among others) Walk on By, Anyone Who Had a Heart, I Say a Little Prayer, Trains and Boats and Planes, and Do You Know the Way to San Jose. All became standards in Bacharach’s chosen pop-easy-listening genre, and meanwhile he was turning out equally durable classics for a string of different artists. Tom Jones never particularly liked What’s New, Pussycat?, the Oscar-nominated theme from the 1965 film of the same name, but acknowledged its enduring popularity.

Herb Alpert topped the US chart with the winsome ballad This Guy’s in Love With You, Jackie DeShannon did likewise with What the World Needs Now Is Love, and BJ Thomas was the lucky recipient of Raindrops Keep Fallin’ on My Head, from the film Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (which brought Bacharach and David Oscars for best theme song and best original score). Bacharach was an Oscar-winner for a third time in 1982, with Arthur’s Theme from the film Arthur.

The son of Bert Bacharach, a sports star turned nationally syndicated newspaper columnist, and Irma Freeman, an artist and songwriter, Burt was born in Kansas City, Missouri. The family moved to Kew Gardens in Queens, New York, when he was a child. At the insistence of his mother, Burt studied the cello, drums and piano. His ears were opened by the innovative harmonies and melodies of jazz musicians of the day such as Thelonious Monk and Charlie Parker, and he played with several jazz combos before enrolling in music courses at the Mannes School of Music, New York, and at McGill University in Montreal.

He served in the US army (1950-52), and while acting as a dance band arranger in Germany he met the singer Vic Damone. Back in the US after his discharge, Bacharach worked as piano accompanist to Damone and to numerous other artists on the club circuit. One of them was the actor and singer Paula Stewart, whom he married in 1953.

He was fortunate to fall into one of the all-time great songwriting partnerships with David, whom he first met at the New York songwriting beehive, the Brill Building (also to be the home of other renowned songwriting duos including Leiber & Stoller, Goffin & King and Pomus & Shuman). David had been writing hits for such luminaries as Sarah Vaughan and Frank Sinatra since the late 40s. Bacharach and David scored their first big commercial coup when the country singer Marty Robbins took their song The Story of My Life into the US Top 20 in 1957. A cover version by Michael Holliday reached No 1 in the UK the following year, and Perry Como brought them another smash with his recording of Magic Moments, which spent eight weeks at No 1 in Britain.

After the breakdown of his marriage (he and Stewart divorced in 1958), Bacharach travelled to Europe to become pianist and bandleader for Marlene Dietrich, a role he would sustain until 1964. By 1961 he was back in New York, and wrote some material for the Drifters, as well as the Chuck Jackson hit Any Day Now before resuming his partnership with David. Their song (The Man Who Shot) Liberty Valance, inspired by the John Wayne/James Stewart western, became a US No 4 hit for Gene Pitney in 1962. Pitney did better still with the duo’s composition Only Love Can Break a Heart, which reached No 2 later that year.

Then came Bacharach and David’s historic hook-up with Warwick. She was a member of the Drifters’ backing group, the Gospelaires, and the songwriters invited her to make some demo recordings at their office at the publishers Famous Music, in the Brill Building. One of them was for Make It Easy on Yourself, which became a big hit for Jerry Butler. David recalled: “She said, ‘I thought that was my song!’ We said, ‘No, you just made a demo’. She was really very hurt and angry. Then we realised here’s this wonderful singer and we’re using her to make demos – she could be a star!”

So it proved, and the hits with Warwick became their calling card. They wrote and produced 20 American Top 40 hits for her over the ensuing decade, including seven that reached the Top 10. One of these songs, I Say a Little Prayer, also gave Aretha Franklin a US Top 10 hit and her biggest solo hit in Britain, where it reached No 4. Throughout the 60s anything Bacharach and David touched became commercial gold dust. They wrote film scores for What’s New, Pussycat?, Alfie and Casino Royale, and scored the successful Broadway musical Promises, Promises, whose title song provided another hit for Warwick and spun off a chartbuster for Bacharach himself with I’ll Never Fall in Love Again.

The writers always had a soft spot for the UK, probably because so many British-based artists had No 1 hits with their material, including Cilla Black – whose version of Anyone Who Had a Heart was her breakthrough hit – Sandie Shaw, the Walker Brothers and Frankie Vaughan.

The Carpenters ushered in the 70s with (They Long to Be) Close to You, a US No 1 which also reached No 6 in the UK, but although Bacharach’s 1971 album (called just Burt Bacharach) became a sought-after collector’s item, the decade would prove disappointing. In 1973 Bacharach and David collaborated on a new musical version of the 1937 film Lost Horizon, but it was a commercial disaster that prompted angry splits between Bacharach, David and Warwick, and involved them in a spate of lawsuits. The writers parted company after a disagreement over royalties. Bacharach’s second marriage, to the actor Angie Dickinson, whom he had married in 1965, began to come apart, although they did not divorce until 1980.

It was not until the early 80s that Bacharach’s magic touch returned, when he won the Oscar for best original song for the chart-topping theme from the film Arthur, which he had also scored. One of its co-writers was the lyricist Carole Bayer Sager, whom Bacharach married the following year. The couple went on to write Making Love for Roberta Flack and Heartlight for Neil Diamond. In 1986, Bacharach enjoyed one of his best ever years, achieving two US No 1s with That’s What Friends Are for, recorded by Warwick with Elton John, Gladys Knight and Stevie Wonder as a charitable fundraiser for Aids, and the Patti LaBelle/Michael McDonald recording of the lachrymose On My Own.

In 1991 his marriage to Bayer Sager ended, and two years later he married Jane Hansen. In a 2015 interview, Bacharach – who was nicknamed “the playboy of the western world” during the 60s – admitted: “I didn’t mean to hurt anybody, but when you wind up being married four times, there are a lot of bodies strewn in your wake.”

During the 90s, Bacharach and David reunited with Warwick for Sunny Weather Lover, from her album Friends Can Be Lovers, and Bacharach wrote songs for James Ingram and Earth, Wind & Fire. In 1995 he co-wrote God Give Me Strength with Elvis Costello for Allison Anders’ film about the Brill Building era, Grace of My Heart, and this resulted in the Costello-Bacharach album Painted from Memory (1998).

Bacharach’s contribution to pop history was acknowledged in a 1996 BBC documentary, Burt Bacharach – This Is Now, and he would find himself being hailed as an icon of cool by bands as varied as Oasis, REM, Massive Attack and the White Stripes. In 1997, an all-star cast including Costello, Warwick, Chrissie Hynde, Sheryl Crow and Luther Vandross banded together at the Hammerstein Ballroom, New York, for a serenade of Bacharach’s songs called One Amazing Night, and the Rhino label issued The Look of Love, a three-disc compilation of his music.

Bacharach’s profile received a huge boost from his appearances in all three of Mike Myers’s 60s-spoofing Austin Powers films. He earned an Oscar nomination for the song Walking Tall, his first collaboration with the lyricist Tim Rice, which was performed by Lyle Lovett on the soundtrack of Stuart Little (1999).

His 2005 album At This Time unusually found Bacharach writing lyrics as well as music and even provoking some controversy by touching on political themes. “All my life I’ve written love songs, and I’ve been non-political,” he said. “So it must be pretty significant that I suddenly have strong feelings of discomfort with the state of the world, and what our [US] administration is doing.” This did not prevent the album from winning the 2006 Grammy award for best pop instrumental album.

In 2008 he opened the BBC Electric Proms at the Roundhouse, in London, with Adele and Jamie Cullum among his supporting musicians. His autobiography, Anyone Who Had a Heart: My Life and Music, was published in 2013, and in 2015 he performed at the Glastonbury festival. He continued to tour past his 90th birthday, with concerts in the UK, US and Europe in 2018 and 2019.

In addition to his Oscars and six Grammy awards (plus a lifetime achievement award in 2008), he was awarded the Polar music prize in Stockholm in 2001. In 2011, the Library of Congress awarded Bacharach and David the Gershwin prize for popular song.

A daughter, Nikki, from his second marriage, died in 2007. He is survived by Jane, their son, Oliver, and daughter, Raleigh, and another son, Cristopher, from his third marriage.

🔔 Burt Freeman Bacharach, songwriter, singer and musician, born 12 May 1928; died 8 February 2023

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

[toony-fanfics]

𝙲𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 🌹

~🌹~

𝙾𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚡 𝙰𝚝𝚕𝚊𝚜 (𝚑𝚊𝚣𝚋𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚌)

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟾𝟹𝟾 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚎 :)

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚊𝚕𝚊����𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝙰𝚝𝚕𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎! 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚍𝚘!

𝚊/𝚗: hiii this is my first time writing for alastor so I apologize if I botched it up sgudgigid- do enjoy!

~🌹~

“Ah! I thought I might find you here!”

Sitting at the bar with a bottle of whiskey, Atlas’ ear twitched at the familiar static-y voice. Almost instinctively, the blue demon whipped his head around, seeing Alastor standing there with his familiar permanent smile. The radio demon let out a chuckle at Atlas’ response, or lack thereof. Sitting in the stool next to him, Alastor tilts his head.

“Don’t mind the intrusion, my dear! I know how you like your privacy sometimes. I’ve just come for a quick drink myself!” The overlord said, snapping his fingers. Atlas watched as some form of a cocktail poofed onto the bar in front of Alastor. A blush creeped onto his face as he turned back to his own drink after a moment or two.

“What is it?” He’d asked. The radio demon next to him seemed to be intrigued by Atlas’ question.

“Why, it’s what I call an ‘Old Fashioned’! Quite the drink, I must say!” Alastor replies proudly before noticing the silence. That wouldn’t do at all!

“You don’t mind if I put on some music, do you?” Alastor asked suddenly, and before the blue demon could answer, the taller overlord had snapped his fingers once more, causing a small radio to appear and play. “Ahh, that’s better! It was certainly quite dull in here without any music!” Radio static emitted from Alastor soon after he put the song on when he heard Atlas speak up.

“Careless.”

“Hm?”

“The song. ‘s Careless.” Atlas clarified, his eyes darting over to Alastor with a small smile before once again averting eye contact. “I’d get up ‘n dance to it if I could, but I can’t. ‘n I don’t got a dance partner.”

Alastor listened intently as he looked down at the shorter demon. With a nod, he promptly stood up.

“Well, this just won’t do, my dear! We can’t have a charming fellow such as yourself go on without a dance partner!” He spoke enthusiastically before suddenly grabbing Atlas’ hand and pulling him up onto his feet. Startled, Atlas tensed a moment. Usually, Atlas would have pulled away. This isn’t the first time he’s been made to stand up and dance. However…this was Alastor. His partner in the romantic sense. He would never be able to pull himself away from the radio demon.

Though, this didn’t stop his whole body from tensing up. Alastor hadn’t missed this, either. He’d noticed as soon as it happened.

“Relax, my dear! You’ve nothing to worry about, I assure you. You’re special!”

“I am?”

“You’re the only demon who could step on my feet and not die immediately!” A laugh track emits from Alastor as he laughs along with it. The lighthearted tone of the comment made Atlas soften slightly as he nods, letting out a little huff of a chuckle.

Taking this as a sign to continue, Alastor hummed along with the tune as he guided Atlas’ hand to wrap around him. Then, he wrapped his own hand around the blue demon’s waist. Holding their intertwined hands in the air, the radio demon looked down at Atlas.

“You’ve already got the hang of the position, my dear! All you need to do is learn the steps!”

“I dunno, Al, this- well…I dunno if I can do this-”

“Nonsense! You can do it! Just follow my lead, lose yourself in the music, and you’ll do splendid!”

Atlas hesitates before nodding slowly. Alastor began slowly leading him through the steps of this little dance, and didn’t wince once when Atlas had stepped on his feet. It wasn’t surprising, though. Alastor was an overlord. Something as silly as stepping on one’s foot wouldn’t hurt him at all.

Though he had been counting the amount of times Atlas stepped down on those blasted hooves. Three…six…ten… Alastor had been about to speak up, laugh and maybe even tease him a bit. Though upon seeing the look of determination, Alastor kept quiet.

Atlas was getting the hang of it. Soon, the two were dancing as if they weren’t in the middle of the hotel bar. Alastor was admittedly pleased. The song soon ended, and the two slowly came to a stop. Stepping back, Atlas blushed.

“That was terrific, my dear!”

“Yer jus’ sayin’ that.”

“Ah, but I’m not! You really did do well for your first time!” Alastor wore a proud smile, before gently kissing the back of the blue demon’s hand. “You were a pleasure to dance with, Atlas! Just a little more help, and you’ll be almost as good as I!”

“Maybe we should do this more often, then? Y’know- practice makes perfect ‘r some bullshit-”

“What a wonderful idea! My dear, I propose we meet together once a week in this very bar! I’ll bring the music, you could bring some of that wonderful food you make, and we’ll make a real shindig out of it! What do you say?”

Humming gently to himself, Atlas embraced Alastor with a small laugh.

“You got yerself a deal, Mr. Radio Demon.”

[makeyoumine69]

Ooh, will you please analyze the scene between Patrick and Evelyn? Specifically where he breaks up with her? I would really love to hear your thoughts behind it. Why did he end things with her? He mentioned that he was feeling homicidal and nothing else could satisfy him anymore, but was that all there really was to it? Did they really love each other or was it all superficial? Please give me your thoughts queen!!

Hello, dear anon!💕

Well, referring to the book, I can say that Patrick and Evelyn never loved each other because they both had affairs and their engagement was pretty fake. But Patrick really tried to give their relationship a fresh start when they went to Tim's vacation house. I'd include a passage from the novel:

I really tried to make things work the weeks we were out there. Evelyn and I rode bicycles and jogged and played tennis. We talked about going to the south of France or to Scotland; we talked about driving through Germany and visiting unspoiled opera houses. We went windsurfing. We talked about only romantic things: the light on eastern Long Island, the moonrise in October over the hills of the Virginia hunt country. We took baths together in the big marble tubs. We had breakfast in bed, snuggling beneath cashmere blankets after I’d poured imported coffee from a Melior pot into Hermès cups. I woke her up with fresh flowers. I put notes in her Louis Vuitton carry bag before she left for her weekly facials in Manhattan. I bought her a puppy, a small black chow, which she named NutraSweet and fed dietetic chocolate trues to. I read long passages aloud from Doctor Zhivago and A Farewell to Arms (my favorite Hemingway). I rented movies in town that Price didn’t own, mostly comedies from the 1930s, and played them on one of the many VCRs, our favorite being Roman Holiday, which we watched twice. We listened to Frank Sinatra (only his 1950s period) and Nat King Cole’s After Midnight, which Tim had on CD. I bought her expensive lingerie, which sometimes she wore.

But nothing really worked, quote:

At night I’d place a faux-concrete and aluminum-wire sconce by Jerry Kott over Evelyn’s head and since she’d be so knocked out on Halcion she wouldn’t brush it off, and though I laughed at this, while the sconce rose evenly with her deep breathing, soon it made me sad and I stopped placing the sconce over Evelyn’s head.

Everything failed to subdue me. Soon everything seemed dull: another sunrise, the lives of heroes, falling in love, war, the discoveries people made about each other. The only thing that didn’t bore me, obviously enough, was how much money Tim Price made, and yet in its obviousness it did. There wasn’t a clear, identifiable emotion within me, except for greed and, possibly, total disgust. I had all the characteristics of a human being—flesh, blood, skin, hair—but my depersonalization was so intense, had gone so deep, that the normal ability to feel compassion had been eradicated, the victim of a slow, purposeful erasure. I was simply imitating reality, a rough resemblance of a human being, with only a dim corner of my mind functioning. Something horrible was happening and yet I couldn’t figure out why—I couldn’t put my finger on it. The only thing that calmed me was the satisfying sound of ice being dropped into a glass of J&B.

So, in my opinion, their connection was just a matter of the society they lived in, since Bateman was at the age when men were used to getting married, and Evelyn was just a suitable option for such a thing, but in the end, when he realized that his dark nature was taking over, he decided to break up with her, and that was only for the better.

I hope my "analysis" isn't too terrible, because I'm not good at that! Thanks for sending me your ask, it was a lot of fun writing all of this!