#and he can't get another teaching gig

[noncompliantbi]

If trans identified men were truly at a higher risk for violence and murder they wouldn't keep getting away with horrific shit like this and that disgusting dude who wears his hard nipped fetish suit to his teaching job in Oakville.

[coralinnii]

Can I ask for Vil, Took or Malleus (any of them, or multiple depending on how cool you are with it) when they find their s/O gives them cute handmade gifts? Baked treats, books, paintings and such. I completely understand if you can't get to this, but if you decide to take this up, It'll be really really cool! Thanks and have a great day!

‎‧₊˚✧Made with Love✧˚₊‧

↳ Reader S/O who made him handmade gifts

feat: Vil ❋ Rook ❋ Malleus genre: fluff note: no pronouns used with the reader, established relationships, nicknames were used for readers (spudling, mon tresor, dear, child of man), probably bad grammar and usage of French because of Rook,

To anyone who were wondering for my sudden MIA status…I got sick, like hella sick. I’m not the greatest at taking care of myself and apparently my body decided to teach me a lesson for that by leaving me down for the count for 2 weeks then giving me migraines if I spend even 20 minutes in front of a screen for another week. To be fair, I could have recovered quicker if I actually…rested and took care of myself but hey, lessons were learned.

I literally started this a month ago but now I need to relearn the characters because my brain can’t remember anything, so I’m sorry if it isn’t the greatest T_T

2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023

To say he was suspicious was an understatement. Vil was a man of routine and he could tell when something was amiss as the days went by. Little differences were of no cause of concern, but when his little spudling is just acting too skittish, the blond just couldn’t let it go.

At first, Vil was content with scolding you for the little bad habits you started. He caught you too many times hunching your neck and back, and the eyebags forming under your eyes were too concerning to him to ignore.

He had to physically hold in his gasp however, when you refused to come over to his dorm for a skincare date. He tried to be understanding when you claimed you had too much homework to come over, but he could do without Rook having to point out that he was sulking.

Yes Rook, Vil is very aware he could get early wrinkles.

Frustration turned to concern as Vil was quick to pick up that you were hiding something from him. Occasionally, he could see you quickly hiding something from his sight before smiling.

Insecurity soon struck him as alarming thoughts swirled about his mind. Was he the problem? Or is there a problem but he was too undependable to you to confide in?

Not one to beat around the bush, he approached you.

You were surprised that your lover requested to see you so suddenly. But, you thought the handsome blond sounded uncharacteristically solemn so you agreed, which led to you sitting in the lounge of your dorm/home.

Maybe you misread the tone of his voice, because the man before you certainly didn’t seem solemn. Sitting next to you on the sofa, Vil watched you silently with his arms crossed and a leg over another.

“So, Vil…how was your da-”

“I know you’re hiding something from me, spudling.”

From your flinching and awkward avoidance to meet his eyes, Vil’s suspicions were correct. Upon closer inspection, Vil spotted small cuts littered about the skin of your fingers. His lilac eyes softened somewhat, but he kept his voice stern.

“I admire you for working so hard for yourself,” Vil made it clear to you as his eyes gazed towards the small cuts on your fingers, “But, I hope I’m not someone so incompetent that you can’t rely on me, especially when you’re needlessly hurting yourself so.”

In a smooth motion, Vil raised his manicured hand towards your face, gently grazing your cheek to keep your attention to him. “So spudling, no more secrets…what has gotten you so busy and reckless?”

The gig is up, you supposed. Sighing, you asked for your blond beloved to wait as you quickly rushed to your room. Upon your return, there was something in your hands to which you nervously handed over to your upperclassman.

It was a soft ribbon with a charm attached to its end. The deep purple ribbon was embroidered with what seemed to be golden leaves attached to vines twisting and curling across the length of the ribbon. The charm was of a crown, a cheap trinket that was clearly inspired by the Fairest Queen.

“I know how hard you’ve been working for classes so I made you a ribbon bookmark, something you could use while you study or something.” you explained, a little embarrassed. “But I haven’t been getting the pattern right, so I couldn’t give you until I got it perfect.”

Vil has been gifting you so much, from customized skincare products of his creation to matching outfits that enhanced your beautiful form. But it’s not just fancy clothes and luxurious products. Vil worries for you, takes care of you, and helps you to see the potential in yourself and to strive for it.

He gave you so much, so you wanted to give him something in return. Something thoughtful, something that shows how much you cherish Vil. More than for his looks, more than for his fame.

“This didn’t turn out as well as I wanted, but I’m working hard so I can make a new one and get the embroidery just right,” you assured him as you reached for the bookmark. “So, please be patient with me.”

But, Vil kept your gift out of your reach. He examined your handiwork with such focus, taking note of the effort in every stitch. It was by no means the level of professional, but he could see how you thought about him. From the color of the ribbon and thread to resemble his honorable dorm, to the consideration of his dedication to his studies rather than his looks. Your gift told him that you saw not Vil Schoenheit the actor, but Vil your hardworking boyfriend.

Seeing your nervous expression, Vil chuckled as he finally spoke, the cute bookmark firmly in his grasp. “If this is for me, I believe It’s for me to decide if it’s acceptable.”

“I-I guess?”

“Good, because I’ve decided to keep this.” Closing the gap, Vil placed a kiss upon your face, teasingly close to your lips. With a confident smile, Vil took pleasure with your burning cheeks.

“Thank you for the gift, my cute spudling.”

If it wasn’t already clear to everyone, Rook’s primary love language are words of affirmation. You could sneeze and suddenly he has written a sonnet about how beautiful the cringling of your face was.

I’m only slightly exaggerating.

Rook is by no means afraid to show his admiration for anyone, least of all his beloved. All of his words and actions are all done without an expectation of getting something in return.

But lately, you have become a bit of an enigma to him. You would spend hours upon hours with him, smiling and capturing pictures of the two of you. Other times, you would swiftly leave back to your dorm, excusing it as needing to study but you would vehemently decline his offer to help you.

Don’t get him wrong, watching your concentrated gaze is gorgeous, the way your heartbeat steadies and letting out soft but longer exhales as though you’re making decisions secretly in your mind. Rook couldn’t help but wonder, what is it that captures your attention that has you gazing off away from him?

“Rook, can I visit you today?”

Oh my, it has been a while since you last requested such a thing. Partially because you both knew his Housewarden would have a fit if he wasn’t aware. But eventually, Vil gave you special permission, mostly because Rook would have found a way to either sneak you into his room or he might sneak in the middle of night to see you. Vil knew Rook would never have gotten caught but he’d rather let you stay than have the migraine of a vice-housewarden breaking curfew and ruining his beauty sleep.

“Oui, mon trésor. I would request approval from my Housewarden immediately.” Rook could never deny you of anything, especially if he means you could have more time to admire you in the comfort of his room.

When night fell and the two of you were alone, sitting on the hunter’s bed. You were nervously wringing the handles of the bag in your hand. Doubts filled your head as you wondered if the gift was even slightly capable of living up to your boyfriend’s expectations, regardless of how silly that sounded.

You knew that whatever you would give him, Rook would love and appreciate it with full sincerity. But, that doesn’t mean you weren’t nervous. The gift should be considerate, you thought. Something that shows the love you had for the eccentric blond and his odd… let’s say interests.

You looked to said odd man, who’s piercing green eyes caught your gaze. Rook noticed your nervousness and the mysterious bag but said nothing. Instead, he kindly waited for you as you calmed yourself, soothing you with gentle touches to your knee. The huntsman can be a lot to some, but he’s also patient and so supportive.

Finding your strength, you presented your gift to Rook. Curiously, Rook took what seemed to be a journal from your hands. It was only when he opened the book to see its content was he surprised.

Him. He saw him in a multitude of photographs that decorated the pages of the journal, lined with cute frames and drawings. Some photos were of moments he remembered, such as days where you visited him during his club, cute dates around the town, or simply just moments of serenity between the two of you.

Rook felt his cheeks flush as his eyes caught the little captions written near the photographs, dates and words written in your handwriting.

“My handsome mad scientist” “His dashing profile is so cool” “His warm arms around me ♡”

“I realized the last time I came to your room that you only had photos of other people” you had glimpses of the wall of photos that consist of people he admired the most, you included. “So, I wanted to give you a photo album of what I find beautiful…you.”

Your boyfriend scared you as the young blond suddenly stood up from the bed, eyes sparkling with excitement as he scanned through the pages filled with memories. “Mon tresor, this is absolutely exquisite! To think my beloved has been watching me with such an unwavering, loving gaze fuels a pleasurable delight within me. Oh, très bien!”

But Rook worriedly commented on something notable. “But, there are still pages left unfilled. Were our moments too few and rare to fill the album?”

“It wasn’t that.” you rubbed your hands as you felt the nerves return. “I was hoping that we could fill the last few pages together…like a couple.”

It was then the hunter kneeled before you, his hands reaching out to grasp yours as he looked into your eyes with a special loving gaze only shown to you. You couldn’t tell if you were captured in his devoted gaze or if it was Rook that felt compelled to hold you, to comply with each and every one of your wishes.

“You speak as though I would dare to deny my precious beloved. I’d be honoured to make more memories with you, now and far however long you will have me.”

With constant surveillance from his wards *coughSebekcough*, Malleus’ moments with you were rare but still meaningful. Some nights, Malleus would wander near your dorm, especially when he noticed the lights of your room, signifying you’re there and awake. And like always, you would open your doors for him with a sweet laugh and inviting smile.

But lately, Malleus has seen that your bedroom lights would be dimmed, and that you would take notice of his presence slower than usual. Once or twice would be of no concern to him. But, as it slowly became a habit, he began to worry.

He spoke of his concerns with Lilia, perhaps in the older fae’s experience he came across a similar predicament amongst humans.

Only for the veteran fae to be of no help, instead chuckling in amusement before giving his young dragon a cryptic comment “You will understand soon enough. My, how you are in for a treat~”

Malleus chose not to question further, nor did he question the odd coincidence that you asked him to visit you that very night.

“I don’t suppose there is a hidden agenda to your invitation, dear?” As Malleus made himself comfortable in your guest room, he noticed some changes since his last visit.

Firstly, the furniture were arranged to be more spaced out, although the TV was still quite close. Then, there were almost an absurdly large amount of pillows and blankets, to the point that some have started to pooled onto the floor.

“Hmm, you sound as though I’m being suspicious” you laughed good-naturedly, “But I do have a surprise for tonight.”

Coming from the kitchen, you pulled out a stacked fairly large, cold container. With Malleus’ keen senses, he could pick up a very subtle sweet scent mixed with a chilly sensation, and a familiar delight came to mind.

“Ice-cream?”

You nodded. “Made by yours truly. I asked Lilia if there was a particular flavour you like, but he said you weren’t really picky.”

Unceremoniously, you sat down next to the tall fae before handing him an ice-cream container. “I was trying out different recipes and ideas all week, tweaking it along the way.”

The results of your work appear to be a multitude of flavours with varying degrees of sweetness. From classics such as chocolate and vanilla to more subtle sweet flavours such as coffee and pistachio. Some were swirls of combinations with fruits or nuts, and some were flavours unique to his hometown, which he imagined were hard to procure.

“I may not be able to shower you in riches, or protect you like your knights…” you gave an embarrassed smile and gaze at your silent companion. “But I could at least make you something sweet, just so you could smile even a little.”

Behind your nonchalant smile, you do feel anxiety swirling as you worry your efforts pale in comparison to the luxuries your powerful boyfriend owns. Malleus is a fae of the highest standing and thus, his actions have more impact than the average man or fae.

But…he was your amazing boyfriend nonetheless, who smiled softly back at you.

“Thank you, child of man. Knowing the effort my beloved has done for me alone, I shall cherish this feeling for centuries to come.”

Your cheeks burned slightly over the sincerity, so you quickly diverted the conversation. “W-Well, just giving someone ice-cream would be too boring, so I thought we could spend the night watching bad rom-com movies while we eat. Call it a human custom of sorts.”

“Is it imperative that the movies must be bad?”

You shrugged “Not really, but it usually is.”

Setting the movie up, you returned to the makeshift nest of comfy blankets and pillows with Malleus sitting by you. The confused fae watched as you handed him a tub of handmade ice-cream and a spoon before picking a container for yourself, a strange feeling of intimacy unfamiliar to him…but not an unpleasant one.

[zoropookie]

SWEET MELODY

☆ characters — balladeer and the cult

wanderer: the main vocalist and guitarist of the group, 'balladeer and the cult', usually shortened to balladeer or the balladeers. it used to just be a garage band when they were in high school, until aether's sister got them a contract under teyvat entertainment. him and his band blew up on tiktok just recently because she got them a gig to perform on saturday night live. 'murder on the dance floor' by sophie-ellis bextor was their choice, and a week later, teenage girls were flooding all their socials demanding a tour. it was a shitstorm, even for him, having never been good with attention.

venti: background vocals and keyboardist for the band, but he usually alternates depending on the song. he was ironically a recent addition to their band, as they needed someone else who was able to keep up with their hectic schedule. he auditioned with a harmonica, two mora in his name, and a dream. lumine felt bad for him for a little bit before realizing he was actually really good.

xiao: the bassist and sometimes background vocals for the band. for some reason, their fans was always very comfortable simping for xiao in particular. mainly because he doesn't say anything to protest it, he just ignores the comments and goes about his day. but then they started getting really feral? to the point where the ceo had to make a statement discouraging inappropriate comments regarding their artists. safe to say, he and scaramouche were the golden boys.

heizou: drummer for the band. he initially wanted to go to college, but that plan never stuck with him. he started causing a lot of trouble when he met wanderer. but he realized that he was indebted to him when wanderer took the fall for him when he crashed into another vehicle one night, and he got off clean from the entertainment staff. he knew he owed it to him to stick by his side, even though he wasn't the nicest person to be around.

aether: he was background vocals that slowly turned into second guitarist. he was one of the first people in the band, having even been there for all of the logo changes they went through. he wasn't good at guitar at first, so he offered minimal, but wanderer was willing to teach him. he's actually a pretty good teacher, even though sometimes he walked out when he lost his patience. he never yelled at him, though, so there was that.

lumine: manager and agent for balladeer and the cult. she saw a lot of potential in them when she was in high school and watched their practices after school. she immediately knew what profession she was going to pursue, and that kickstarted her majoring in communications. she was technically only fit for public relations, but she wouldn't accept anyone else being their manager except for her. so she kind of paid teyvat entertainment to get them in, but you can't tell anyone.

prev ☆ masterlist ☆ next

THERE ARE not many things that can sway your interest ever since the "accident", but in spite of that, you pushed forward. you are now the owner of the biggest bakery chain in your city, consistently seeing couples and catering to them as such. you've been a big host at weddings, events for celebrities, and even a big support for your friends and family. you've even earned yourself a niche following as well by how sweet you are to everybody around you. but, even with your kindness, you don't have a particular spark that keeps you going anymore these days. that is until one of your employees starts suggesting you write love letters to customers who request your services. at first you thought it was a horrible idea that could easily turn into trouble, but that was until you were tasked with writing one to your own (very very famous) ex-boyfriend.

taglist ☆ — @seternic @chemiru @coquettemaiden @1kio0o @emiixuu

@agaygothicmushroom @yomishen @jingyuan-wife-real @toruscorpse @whoooismkeee

@sketcheeee @st4r4ngel @mi2ukis @scaradooche @lightyagamifan

@pwushizz @alatusorrow @eutopiastar @magica-ren @slu7

@vamxpi @theyluvkatt @kyon-cherri @suzydarling @mimi3lover

@auroratumbles @vxcmx @yourfavoritefreakyhan @kunimylovee

@czerwka @little-honey-the-third @featuredtofu

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.

All For Naught

Day #29 - Behind the Music | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Jeff | Pairing: Jeff/Goodie (Freak), Minor Steddie Mention | Tags: Future Fic, Band Breakup, Angst, Jeff and Goodie are Best Friends, But Goodie Learned How to Run from Eddie, Unrequited Love, Or Is It?, Hopeful Ending

Jeff loads the last guitar into the back of the pickup. He can't believe it's over. Just like that. They tried so hard, for so long, that he kind of assumed that they would forever. 

He definitely hadn't expected Goodie to be the one to throw in the towel.

Not like this.

He thought if they broke up it would be Eddie that called it quits. Eddie, with Steve at home. Eddie with a whole life outside the band.

Or Gareth. He's getting married. It'd be fair to want to settle down, to stay close to home. To give up on the band that has only had middling success, at best. 

But, no. It was Goodie. His best friend, the one that he thought he'd ride or die with until the absolute end, that pulled the plug. Sure, they could get another bass player, but they'd made a promise to each other years ago that Corroded Coffin was the four of them, and the four of them alone.

No additions. No replacements.

So, with Goodie out, they're just done.

All they have left is cleaning out the rehearsal garage, dividing up stuff that they can't remember who it belonged to in the first place. They aren't even fighting. That's the thing that hurts the most. That they are all just resigned to letting this go.

It's been their life for almost two decades, and now it's just over.

Jeff moved back home for a while, but looking up at the ceiling in his childhood bedroom was too depressing, so as soon as he could get his shit together, he fled. Out of town, out of the state. 

He went from living in close proximity to the three of them, to now, all alone. Staring at the blank walls of his apartment as he tries to find a job. He had a job. It didn't pay particularly well, but he loved it. 

Loved Corroded Coffin. 

Loved them all.

Loved Goodie the most.

And now they haven't spoken in six weeks. Goodie's just vanished off the face of the earth, and Goodie's mom and dad won't tell Jeff anything useful. He's just gone.

His last private lesson of the day is over. The kids are kind of fun to teach, even if he doesn't expect any of them to be the next Jimi Hendrix.

He teaches lots of guitar, and a little piano. He knows enough to teach the beginners, anyway. 

Mr. Clarke, back home, was able to pull some strings, even from states away, vouching for him. And now he's a music tutor.

It pays well. He often makes more in an afternoon than his cut would be from a weekend of gigs. 

He's not passionate about it, not like he was about Corroded Coffin, but it definitely pays the bills more reliably.

Eddie and Steve have been out a couple times, and Gareth once, and they all tip-toe around him, like he might explode. Since when is he the unstable one? Eddie always had the dramatics locked down for himself.

"I'm fine," Jeff says for the tenth time since Eddie flopped onto his couch this afternoon.

"You're not," Eddie argues.

"Do you want me to cry, or what?" Jeff snaps.

"Maybe you'd feel better if you did."

Nothing is gonna make him feel better. His best friend basically wrote his ass off, along with everyone else, in one fell swoop. He took that pretty damn personally. How could he not? It was fucked. 

"Goods called last week," Eddie says, as casual as can be. 

"Jesus Christ, Eddie. That's what you lead with. Not Steve's new lawnmower," Jeff bitches, "Well? Where is he?"

"He said the South of France, but I don't believe him," Eddie says.

No shit. Jeff wouldn't believe that either. Goodie hates the sun.

"Well, did he at least explain why he imploded the band?" Jeff asks, because that's what he needs to know.

"He didn't. But you know why," Eddie says, and Jeff pauses, looking at him.

He most definitely does not, "I do?"

"Think," Eddie stresses, as if Jeff hasn't been thinking about this, and only this, for months. 

"Because we weren't making money?"

"No," Eddie says.

"Because he had finally had enough of Gareth?"

Eddie laughs, "No. But a better guess."

"I don't know. I feel like maybe I never knew him at all, if he's capable of just bailing on us all for no good reason."

Eddie raises an eyebrow, "C'mon. You know better than this. You know how he's always felt about you."

Jeff opens his mouth to laugh, but Eddie doesn't, so he snaps it closed again. No. That can't be. Goodie never. 

No, no, no.

"You're not saying…" Jeff trails off.

"I am saying. We all saw it. How did you not?" Eddie asks, and Jeff's confused. That's not. They never. Goodie never said anything. How was he supposed to guess that?

Goodie came out a few years ago, as loath as he was to follow in Eddie's footsteps about anything. 

Jeff's dated women and men. Why wouldn't Goodie just say something? It's not like there was a zero percent chance. 

But it must have felt like it to him, he supposes. 

Goddamnit.

Sure, there's been some moments over the years. But he was, is, his best friend. And not fucking up that, not fucking up the band, always quashed anything that ever bubbled to the surface.

And now, there's no best friend, and no band, so the caution was all for naught.

"Well, fuck," Jeff says, and Eddie laughs, reaching into his pocket, pulling out a slip of paper. 

An address.

The door opens, and Goodie looks surprised. Eddie didn't warn him.

Jeff takes one big step forward, pushing into his personal space, "You're an asshole."

It's not graceful. Too many teeth, and noses bumping like they've never done this before, but Jeff keeps at it, keeps kissing him, not intending to give him the opportunity to slip away again.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

[baratiddyappreciator]

S/o who can sing good and like high notes like mariah carey

I won't lie chief, most of these giant buff nerds would try and find a way to use what we're going to refer to as The Note from this point on in a combat situation because that's powerful, but I digress.

Baki:

He 100% believes you when you say you're a good singer, but giving him proof is always going to be appreciated greatly. If his baby wants to sing for him, that's great and he loves it a lot, thank you kindly pookie.

He expects the singing to be good, some of the best he's ever heard, but what he isn't expecting is THE high note. Like how do you do that??? HOW?!

Of course, after hearing the high note and witnessing THE POWER of said high note, he'll immediately start wondering if it can be weaponized. Imagine if he could literally stun-lock an opponent in real life?!?

Definitely tries to get you to sing along to any songs with high notes so he can hear you hit them with ease and then brag about it to everyone he knows, even his dad.

"Oh yeah, my partner is super talented, listen to this!" Becomes a common thing to hear, he's so proud of you!

Kozue:

Silent wonder and admiration. How on earth do you get your voice to sound so angelic and in tune when you sing?! That's seriously impressive stuff! She doesn't understand any of it beyond it's hard work and impressive.

If she thought your regular singing was impressive (it is) then you hitting the high note is mind boggling (it is) and she doesn't know how you did that (sorcery, probably) but could you please do it again, because she's setting it as her notification tone.

The high note must be studied and admired. How loud can you go? Can you do wacky stuff like breaking a glass? Could you do better than an opera singer?! Probably not, but it's fun to ask and get so carried away the both of you just wind up dying of laughter on the floor.

She tries to get you to teach her how to hit a high note like that. It's impressive and she wants to know if she can get her voice like yours, though the look of disappointment in her eyes as you mention that dairy will make it harder to hit higher notes just after she's finished her iced coffee is palpable.

She's very proud when people compliment her new notification tone, and will purposefully send you a text to be answered whenever she's in a crowd so she can hear it over and over again.

Hanayama:

He'd act all unimpressed in front of his guys and just nod and give you a gruff little grunt (high praise from him, really) but behind closed doors he's practically begging you to sing him some old-timey song that he really liked as a kid.

The high note is a shock to be sure, but not an unpleasant one. He definitely didn't expect you to go so hard with your rendition of Frank Sinatra's Fly Me To The Moon, but he's glad you did, adds your own personal flare.

He thinks you're great and really skilled, it's super impressive he promises, but he can't really handle the high note all that often. On occasion, sure, but if he's gotta hear it multiple times in one day then he simply can't. He's got a limit on how much loud noises he can handle.

If you're ever wanting to look into getting a gig, however, he can 100% hook you up by calling on some old favors that he's owed by a few club owners, he's sure that they'd be more than happy to accept you on stage!

There's a silent pride in him when people talk about you, especially if you're up on stage. All those eyes on you as people talk about how skilled you are, but he's the one that gets to take you home.

Chiharu:

He's not a graceful singer, but can try. You start up, and he'll 100% join you. Sounds like a drunk old cat, but it's fine because it's fun! He greatly appreciates your skill regardless of his inability.

You hit a high note and he immediately demands you hit another. And then another, and another. He's fascinated. Sure his ears might hurt, but he adores your voice and he's going to listen to you.

He'll try to match the vibes and hit high notes with you, but he gets one voice crack and stops for weeks, can't look you in the eye. He demands you teach him how, but he's not the best at practicing. Once he gets it down enough for him to hit a relatively high note though, he absolutely will use it in a fight. He gets hit? He's gonna let out the highest damn squeak you've ever heard out of spite before he rocks his opponents shit.

He takes you out to karaoke bars often, especially if there are competitions so you can breeze through the others and enjoy the benefits of your superiority. And he's absolutely going to refer to you winning as you being superior, because in his eyes you are.

Loudly proud about you being so skilled. You start humming and he's ready to shout from the rooftops about how talented and skilled and good looking and amazing you are. As a matter of fact, he's done it at least once when he's had enough to drink.

Katsumi:

Oh he's definitely going to forget how to speak for a while, but if you're both having a fun moment he's joining in. His boys tell him he sounds like a dying echidna, but he doesn't really care, he's having fun with his baby and admiring their skill.

The high note takes everyone off-guard. That's just impressive. There's nothing more to be said other than "holy shit" and "wow" because that's the only words in their brains. The Karate boys are smart (ish) on their own, but together they have one braincell and it's completely overwhelmed by the Wow that they're all thinking.

Katsumi has no problem bragging about your skill. He doesn't stop doing it, actually, but asking him to stop is like asking him to NOT be proud that he bagged a skilled individual with the voice of a goddess, and that's basically impossible.

He's only ever hit the high note once and it's because Katou slapped his butt at full force while he was talking. Katou hasn't, and probably won't ever, let him live that down. On the plus side, he learned that he can hit the high notes like you, it's just hard.

He honestly might just get a billboard with your face on it in front of and on the Shin-Shin-Kai building so he can brag to everyone that walks past that his partner is super talented.

Jack:

A bit fuckin dense, he's probably not going to notice it's you singing until he actually physically sees you singing, in which case he'll happily just stand there and admire you while you're unaware.

The high note catches him completely off-guard, especially if you're singing in the other room and then hit it out of nowhere. That's a guaranteed way for him to come rushing in ready to either swing on someone or rush you to a hospital.

He entertains the same train of thought as Baki for a few seconds because yeah that'd be funny, and then he remembers that Gaia basically has done that before and his interest completely dies out from that point because he doesn't need a headache like that again. He's never letting the two of you be in the same room if he can help it though, just to be on the safe side.

The high note is one of the few things that wake him from a dead sleep beyond you screaming like you're being murdered. All it takes is for him to break through a door once for that fact to become clear, so there's no practicing within his earshot while he's sleeping.

He's definitely a silently proud individual. He admires the hard work and dedication you've put into it, but it's pretty rare that he brags about anything. That being said, given the chance he absolutely will sing your praises, he knows it's nice to hear.

Kosho:

He thinks it's good that you have a creative outlet that isn't dangerous to yourself or him, and he doesn't mind hearing you singing around the house while he stretches or trains.

His reaction to the high note is very similar to Jack, where he comes rushing in in a blind panic if you hit it out of nowhere, but he quickly processes it and it's something the both of you will laugh about eventually.

Oh he knows that a high note like that can be used in combat, but unless you have an interest in fighting yourself, he's not likely to ever see it in action, and even if you do it's not going to be something he wants used on himself, so please be merciful. Sometimes.

He knows that he hasn't been able to hit a high note like that since he was little, before puberty hit him like a bus, so he won't even attempt, but he'd definitely love to hear the technical part of how you make a sound like that.

He constantly humble brags whenever he gets the chance. "Oh your girlfriend is a singer? Yeah well my partner is the next Mariah Carey, get on my level." Do not put him in a room with the actual Mariah Carey, because he will tell her that you're coming after her crown.

Kureha:

Lowkey annoyed that you won't shut up but he does think your voice is pretty. Just, you know, in moderation. Just a little bit. He's trying to work baby, please just go practice in another room, where he can still hear you but it won't be as distracting.

Better hope he isn't drinking when you hit the high note because he will choke on it. The "perfect" Dr.Kureha Shinogi forgets how to human every time the high note is done in his presence, even if he's expecting it.

He knows that theoretically the high note could be used in combat, and Jack has told him about Gaia's screaming, but he shudders to think of anyone combining the volume and pitch in a combat situation, he'd break and he knows it.

If there's ever a work function or a conference that calls for live entertainment then SURPRISE SHAWTY! He's signed you up! Hope you don't get nervous in front of large crows. Oh also you only have two weeks to prepare. He's only a little sorry.

Given the chance, he loudly brags, but it's a shared brag. Why yes! You're both prodigies! It's only right that you wind up together! It's almost like the universe recognized that you both deserved someone with the same amount of skill!

Retsu:

Mystified and happy. He's flourishing, practically glowing as he listens to you. You're going to be totally unaware that he's there the first time you sing in front of him (unless you purposefully waited to show him) but either way, he's there and he's enjoying himself.

The high note catches him WAY off-guard. How did someone as sweet and soft (to him) manage to make such a big noise?! It takes him a solid minute but you'll both wind up laughing about how shocked he was.

He wouldn't dare think of using the high note as a fighting tactic, but he definitely can appreciate the shock value it caries when someone isn't expecting it. He'd definitely bring you to the arena and do a little trolling with you, just because he deserves to have some fun and you do to.

Oh he definitely tries to get you to sing along to some Mariah songs, she's talented and a genius with some real catchy ones, and if he ever gets the opportunity he's taking you to a concert, front row seats.

Highkey proud of you and not afraid to show it, but he's not interested in bragging to others about your skills, he wants to show you how great he thinks you are. He's constantly complimenting you anyways, this just gives him additional ammunition!

Doppo & Natsue:

Doppo's used to Natsue humming and singing around the house while she's doing her thing, be it chores or just going about her day, but having the both of you do it is something that brings him great joy and amusement, mostly because the both of you tend to completely stop once you hear the other and that's just hilarious to him.

The high note takes them both by surprise. Nobody's beating you on that one, Natsue's not going to try and Doppo knows damn well that he can't. That being said, he'd gladly give you a light teasing about being inspired by Mariah.

He's honestly more confident about leaving you and Natsue at home together whenever he leaves because he knows that if you need help you'll definitely be able to get the neighbors attention and stun an attacker, especially after what happened with Dorian, while Natsue just thinks it's neat and a skill that she's proud you've developed.

Both of them try and get you to sing more around the house, and if given the chance Natsue is throwing down with you on a Karaoke machine just so she can see you smile. Doppo, on the other hand, tries to recruit you for mischief. Katsumi has learned to survey his room whenever he's over in case you're hiding, waiting to pounce.

Non stop bragging on Doppo's part, but he does that anyways. His two loves are the best in the world and everyone deserves to know, especially the both of you, while Natsue is more than happy to gossip with the other moms in the area and brag about how talented you are.

Shibukawa:

He's pretty nice when it comes to your singing, even if he might give you a hard time just to get a laugh out of you, or see if he can break your composure. Bonus points if he gets you to break at the worst moment.

The high note inspires thoughts of evil in him. All those youngsters in the arena won't know what hit them the next time he gets a text or a phone call, because he's setting it up as his ringtone and he's not putting his phone on mute. You are the singular cause to every jumpscare in the arena from that point on. The others don't hate you, but hearing your voice for the first time in person definitely gets some interesting reactions.

He doesn't need to use tricks in combat, he already has some. Plenty, as a matter of fact. The high note is specifically for pranks only, thank you very much. He's going to recruit you.

He definitely takes you out to karaoke and introduces you as a beginner so that you can wipe the floor with the competition and laugh about it later over the prizes and stunned looks.

Oh he doesn't need to brag, everyone knows that he's proud of you. He doesn't even need to say anything, it's just insanely obvious. Especially with how many times he's scared the living shit out of Jack and Katsumi by playing your high notes. He's got different ones recorded too. You're his partner in crime, whether you like it or not.

[chemicallady]

I'd like to say something at this point.

I'm reading here and there that some of you are changing their vision about Noah or reaching the point to ask yourself if you still want to be a supporter of him because of what that blog said about him.

I believe that what happened between Noah and this person is probably true, I don't have any reason to doubt about her. But.

As we say in Italy, you can't fully believe to a story if you ear just one-side bell. Noah doesn't have the chance to tell his side of the story because he has better things to do than care about gossip. More than that, it's a human being. We have to look at the big picture. I don't want to defend him at all costs, I actually really don't care because untill he will be a decent person in public (not saying bullshit like Ronnie, for instance) and continue to be polite to his supporters, we are cool. I think I'm far older than more than half of the rest of this (sometimes really bad) fandom because I was a teen in the years of the emo wave. You maybe don't know about the Used, early MCR, Radke himself, Oli Sykes before Sempieternal...

They were drugs addicted. Always drunks as skunks. Pissing on people, throwing mic stands in the pit, get FULLY NAKED on stage (I'll never forgot about this, Quinn Allman). They did some awful shit in front of they supporters and to their supporters. Things that nowadays would get them canceled. You have no idea (maybe, or maybe you have) of what was Warped Tour 2005. Or maybe it was 2004? I can't recall.

Bad Omens are TODDLERS compared to this people. Innocent, pure babies. They are nice, extrovert maybe but nice. No one can deny that. They dont do drugs, they dont get drunk on stage or fuck around this supporters. They have an healthy routine in tour, they are teaching people to not fucking fight, they don't fuel fights! Its NORMAL in metal to have a couple of injuries at concerts. Collateral damages. I was nine at my second concert and I saw Slipknot. One dude broke his nose in the pit. Blood everywhere.

It's not a fucking Hannah Montana show. Those dudes are suppose to be badass. Noah is not pretending to be someone else or faking a new personality. He is doing is job and he is delivering pretty good shows. In no time he will grab his crotch around moaning like Oli, give him fucking space to express himself and be feral. Like any other metal artist.

Another thing.

Bad Omens vip experience is not expensive. I don't have interest in buy vip pass for 30 second of nothing, I'd rather wait after the gig is over. I met so many artists this way and usually they are more appreciable if they don't have to move to the next city. BUT the costs is not that high. I bought vip pass for LP once and I had to work 3 months to save enough for it. And I was still living at my parents'!

The merch is high quality, they make new pieces every time.... that's their way to get real cash guys. During a tour you have to pay tons of shit: the venue, flights, hotels, your crew. And you pay in advance most of the time. I don't think they are rich bitches rn. They are doing fine probably but still many of them lives with friends. Having flatmates is many time a signal that you can't afford Ronnie Radke house in Paradise Palisades.

I heard that they weren't really nice during the set in Canada. Maybe Montreal or Toronto. Someone felt bad, someone dropped a surfer I don't know. I didn't follow this I here for dirty smutty ff. If I want to see them play I have tiktok. By the way you have to know that most of the time you can't see shit from stage. Because you have lights in your face pointing your eyes. So probably noah just say a crow surfer falling and thought 'here we go again, this people has no fucking etiquette', and he left the stage. Or maybe who owned the venue asked them to do so in case of emergency.

BTW there is no fucking etiquette at their concerts. I stand with him if he's pissed off about that. It's not that hard to understand that you have to stay at the sides if you're not used to metal shows or you don't want to be pushed. Other people is ruining your experience or maybe its simply not for you. I grew up in the moshpit and that's how we like our shit. We have no time for filming or make tiktoks, we live the moment (we, people who like metal music, I'm not gatekeeping. If you wanna learn how to survive the pit and enjoy the experience just message me.)

So, to sum up.

My point is that every one of us has that friend that was a dick with one or more girls we still love him because we know that he's a weirdo an not a bad person.

My advice is stop being obsessed with Noah and just enjoy his work. You dont know him, you cant tell. Don't believe everything, stories are getting bigger and bigger everytime their are told, and think about the fact that straight guys are mostly jerks. They take more time to mature and act like adults. We know that Noah is in therapy now, he open up about it, so he is aware that he is not perfect.

BECAUSE HE IS NOT. HE IS A HUMAN BEING AND HUMANS MAKE MISTAKES.

That's it.

I don't want to fuel fights as well but please stop being ridiculous and acting like he is insulting you personally. It's fine to be delululu but your pushing the limits.

Peace and love.

[quixoticall]

This Could Get Ugly 2. The Beginning

Summary: It's 1983 and The Downsides need another lead singer and you just happen to need a band--it's a perfect match. The only issue? You have to pretend to be in a relationship with your bandmate, Steve Harrington, but you can't help but be drawn to the band's broody guitar player.

pairing: s.h. x fem!reader, e.m. x fem!reader, j.b. x n.w., r.b x n.w.

SERIES MASTERLIST🎤

Previous Chapter🎺

WC: 2.4K

Warnings: Sexism, Murray Bauman

***

NANCY: Nancy Wheeler, former keyboardist for The Downsides.

  I had been playing piano since I was eight, it was just one of those things my parents signed me up for to make me more well-rounded for college applications but I ended up loving it more than they had hoped.

I auditioned for the band on a whim, I was going to Indiana State at the time, getting my teaching degree but I loved playing the piano more than I would ever love being a teacher. To be honest, when I auditioned, I didn’t think they were going to take me, not even after I saw they had another girl in the band. Don’t get me wrong, I knew I had the talent for it, I just didn’t necessarily give off Rock and Roll vibes, but they accepted me anyway.

  I had a feeling Steve liked me from the moment we met, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t attracted to him then. He’s Steve Harrington for God’s sake. Girls had posters of him up on their walls for the better part of the 80s. I just—I didn’t want people to think I got the spot because I was involved with the lead singer. I wanted people to know that I earned my place through talent. Steve was really disappointed when I turned him down, but he was always really respectful about it.

  That didn’t mean he stopped being interested or that I didn’t feel his eyes on me during every rehearsal in the summer of ‘81.  

1981

Of course, you knew that when you had been signed to Starcourt Records it wasn’t completely because of your talent.

You had started to wonder, however, if Starcourt had given you a shot because they didn't want to risk litigation or maybe because those record execs had seen your name floating around in a magazine or, more importantly, your picture.

The more you thought about it, the more insecure about your place you had felt, like an imposter among others who had earned their spots. But, after one week of rubbing shoulders with the musicians over at Starcourt, you realized that to be able to make it, you were going to have to ooze confidence, even if that confidence was fake.

***

NANCY: We started playing gigs together around the Midwest. In the beginning, we mostly played covers but eventually, we started writing our own music. I’m not a great songwriter and, to be frank, neither is Steve, so a lot of the stuff we were coming up with was pretty simple but it worked for us. We went from playing weddings to actually getting gigs that paid money. I mean it was barely enough to cover gas to get there but it was something. I guess, for the sake of transparency, there is one more thing I have to talk about while we’re talking about this time in the band’s life.

Steve and I spent a lot of time writing music together. It was great, being able to get close. I thought we were becoming friends. He was still a bit hung up, though and one night, when we were up late writing at his tiny apartment, he kissed me. And I kissed him back.

The next day, I told him that that couldn’t happen again. I gave him my reasons and he respected that but still, I could tell he was crushed. I think that between the kiss and us having this talk, he had begun to hope that something would happen between us.

I think that’s what made me and Jonathan hurt him so much more. 

1982

You didn’t necessarily like Murray when you first began to work with him but you did trust him. In the professional capacity at least. He never tried anything with you, which you appreciated although that bar was abysmally low.

You hadn’t known what to expect on your first day in the studio but you had a feeling that as far as the music was considered, you were in decent hands.

Boy, were you fucking wrong.

The moment you had stepped into the studio, Murray had handed you a stack of music, all unfamiliar and definitely nothing you had written.

“What’s this?” You had asked, eyes crinkling in confusion.

“A few contenders for an EP. The team over at marketing came up with some branding concepts and this is what we landed on.”

He then pulled out a thick folder overflowing with pictures of what you assumed the studio had wanted to mold you into. It was all bubblegum and teased hair and not at all what you had envisioned.

“Wait, Murray, I don’t understand.  I have a brand, one that I've spent a lot of time curating along. This isn't me and this is definitely not my music.  You said I could sing the music that I’ve written.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Murray hummed, condescendingly, “I never said that.”

“Well, if I can’t sing my music then I just won’t sing at all.” You were the full image of a petulant child, arms crossed and lips dangerously close to a pout.

Murray feigned concern for a moment before hunching down so that he was at eye level with you.

“You signed a contract,” he spoke slowly, “Starcourt owns you, and if you don’t like it, then talk to a judge.”

He turned away from you, leaning against the mixing console. He speaks again after what seems like an eternity.

“Listen, sweetheart, I’m not saying it’s ethical or right, but if you want to make it in music, you got to play the game. You can’t come in here, swinging your metaphorical dick around, calling the shots when you haven’t proven you can rake in the dough.

“Sure, you’ve got talent, but who doesn’t? Right now, there’s a line of girls around the block who can sing and write and are probably better at following directions, waiting to take your spot.

"Plus, I read the songs you sent over, you have some good lines but there's not a single song worth attaching Starcourt's name to. Take this as an opportunity to learn, to be better, to actually work for something for the first time in your life. You have nothing right now, so nothing is below you, not even this pop dribble they're giving you to sing.

"I’m not saying it’s always gonna be this way, but you have to prove to them that you can play before they take you seriously, and then if you got what it takes, you can start writing your own music. Hell, if you make them enough money, they’ll let you play the fucking didgeridoo and go out in a nun’s habit… well, maybe not the habit, but the point stands. So, can we stop acting like the spoiled princess we are for just one afternoon and get to rehearsing?”

You snatched the book of songs from his outstretched hand and with a smile on your face, tore it down the middle before stomping off.

It had taken five days of Murray, along with various other executives at Starcourt, pounding on your door at the Chateau Mormont—the hotel that was your permanent residence since you had turned 18— before you had even considered setting foot in Starcourt again.

All it took was a gift basket full of Champagne and half a dozen threatening letters from their legal team.

***

NANCY: Jonathan came on as our second guitarist. I remember when he came to the audition he was this quiet, super shy kid who barely managed to make eye contact, but once he had a guitar in his hands, he had this way of coming alive. He wasn’t a showman like Steve, but he was electric when he played.

We—I never meant for things to turn out the way they did but with Jonathan, it wasn’t much of a choice. I know this sounds so cliche, but we were drawn to each other. I remember, during rehearsals, even before we really knew each other, he and I would lock eyes from across the room and I would know exactly what he was thinking.

Soon, we were sneaking around together. We were getting more and more serious, it was only a matter of time, honestly, before the others found out. Jonathan wanted to come clean early on, he could tell it was causing me so much stress, but I didn’t want to tell anyone else. Part of it, was Steve, of course, but also, what Jonathan and I had felt precious and personal and ours. I wanted to stay in this bubble we had built for ourselves.

Of course, it was Steve and Robin who eventually caught us, making out in Jonathan’s car after rehearsals one day.

To say that Steve took it hard is probably an understatement. He skipped rehearsal for five straight days and when he showed up he had this new song he had written, this ballad called, “Regret You”.

“If I never had you, then why can’t I forget you / I hate myself because I could never regret you.”

Yeah, that was an awkward one to rehearse but, to his credit, it was a great song. It was the song that got us noticed.

1982

You had spent months recording your first EP, a five-song collection the studio had decided to name “The Setlist”. It was meant to be a play on your groupie status, or at least that’s what some intern over in the marketing department had claimed, a little too proud of himself for your liking.

While you couldn't ignore the sense of accomplishment that bubbled below the surface, you mostly felt empty. 

The whole thing made you think of your father, whom you hadn't spoken to in years but had a very staunch view on artistic integrity. He despised artists who 'carelessly churned out poor imitations of real art for money'.  "To make art is as close as one can get to being god," he had explained to you once, with self-important tears in his eyes, "why would anyone sell that off? Art should mean something to the artist. Otherwise, they are a peddler of fake divinity." 

Your father had never had to worry about money a day in his life. 

That empty feeling was only exacerbated when, the Friday after you had officially finished recording, Murray had invited you to lunch with a particular proposition in mind.

“No, Murray, not gonna happen. Over my dead body and all that,” you spat from across the table.

“Listen, I don’t want to pull the contract card on you, but I will,” he warned with no real heat as he swirled his gin martini in one hand.

“Nice try,” you mirrored his pose, martini and all, “but the contract doesn't cover this, only original work. Not duets. You know that, I know that, so why don’t you try again and give me one good reason why I would even consider a duet with The Letterman’s.”

Murray gave you a look you had come to familiarize yourself with—one that was equal measures of pride and annoyance. It was the look he gave you whenever you bested him.

“How about the fact that they’re one of the hottest acts right now and being on a track with them would guarantee you a spot on the charts which is a great place to be at any point in time, but especially when you’re about to release an EP?”

Your face dropped in the way it only did when you knew Murray was right about something you didn’t want him to be right about. A look he had been starting to familiarize himself with.

"Fine, I’ll do it, but I want to spend as little time as possible with Jason. He’s a pompous ass.” “No disagreements there, sweetheart.”

The day you were scheduled to record with Jason and the rest of his band, he was an hour late. You hadn’t doubted for a moment he had done this on purpose.

When he finally had shown, he pretended not to know you, a game you had quickly caught on to, and made sure to respond with, “It’s so nice to meet you, Jackson” after he made a show of introducing himself to you which made the rest of his band and Murray guffaw.

Jason narrowed his eyes at you, his voice struggling to stay level, and said, “Watch it. We’re the ones doing you a favor here, remember?”

“I did you one first,” you responded, your eyes meeting his gaze, “remember?”

It had taken 20 minutes for his bandmates to calm him down, but eventually, the two of you got into the booth.

Your only priority had been to do your best job in as few takes as possible because you did not know how much longer you could tolerate being in Jason’s presence.

In the end, after a two-hour session, Murray had sent you both home, either happy with the finished product or at his wit’s end with the tension. Either way, three weeks later you had a duet with The Letterman’s called “It Was You” and just as Murray had predicted, it was quick to climb the charts.

You were getting noticed.

***

NANCY: Not long after Steve wrote “Regret You” we got noticed by a scout from Starcourt Records. I think at first we thought it was some sort of scheme, but it was legit. They had us record a few demos and in something like six months, they moved us to a house in Culver City.

The whole thing had felt like some sort of fever dream. I had to quit school and tell my parents. They didn’t even know I was in a band. Or seeing anybody. Needless to say, they didn’t take any of it well. When we got to LA, we did more test recordings and they even had us playing some shows at a few clubs on the strip.

Like I said: total fever dream.

But, when you’re under the thumb of a label like that, there are certain stipulations. One of the first things they told us was that they wanted to make our sound more modern and pop. We kinda

had an alternative, experimental sound back then. They said synth was going to be the new thing so they wanted Robin to learn how to play the synthesizer which meant that on certain songs, Jonathan would have to take over for bass. Also, they wanted Steve to be more of a frontman and less of a guitar player. Steve could always work a crowd, and they wanted to use that, especially with this new sound they had envisioned for us. All of this meant we needed another guitar player and, believe it or not, the label already knew who that was going to be. Eddie Munson.

NEXT CHAPTER 🎸

Taglist: @rexorangecouny

[halfagone]

Is it weird that I’m not a big fan of the whole this hero from this fandom gets adopted by the batfam trope? Like, it’s repetitive, but my main issue is that I feel like it devalues the hero in the process? Like, I’ve read fics about Danny and Spidey being adopted by them , and it’s just weird because they’re both solo heroes who’ve accomplished amazing things by themselves, and I feel them getting adopted and following Batman’s order just makes them another sidekick? Like, Spider man in particular was one of the first teen heroes that wasn’t a sidekick, and Danny falls into that category too. Sorry, does that make sense?

I think I get what you're trying to say here! That part of the reason why teenage heroes like Spider-Man and Danny Phantom are so impressive is because they did the hero thing alone, right? That they were capable of all these feats without a mentor and through their own wits and talents? I believe I'm getting that correctly?

I wouldn't call that weird at all. Everyone has the right to their own opinion, and should be respectful enough not to bash anyone else for theirs.

I will say that half the reason why I adore Danny so much is how passionate his character is. We have evidence that Danny isn't the most fond of the hero gig, but the fact that he keeps at it, keeps putting himself in danger to protect people, proves that for all that he's a little shit that gets on people's nerves, he is genuinely a good kid. He didn't have to do the hero thing, but he did, because someone had to, and he decided it had to be him. And he did it alone, or- mostly alone. Sam and Tucker's help should never be underestimated, but it's no secret that they don't have all the firepower he does.

I do understand why people like the trope where Danny or Peter get adopted, and part of it is for the same reasons I like it too.

When you think about it, teen heroes are targeted for teen audiences. They're fictional characters meant to instill confidence in kids, teach them that they can do good too, help them grow and reflect when they see their favorite heroes going through the same things they do. All sorts of things like that. And when you're a kid, you feel like the world is stacked against you. Hopefully you'll have people in your corner, but not every kid out there does. So these kinds of heroes help them build confidence in their independence, that they can stand up for themselves too, even when no one else will.

But then you grow up, and then you realize you shouldn't have had to do that all by yourself. You should have had a trusting adult to look out for you, you should have had someone to watch your back. I was an anxious 14-15 year old, because I was stupid enough to try to finish high school in 3 years instead of the standard 4.

And that's nothing in comparison to these teen heroes who have people's lives in their hands, fighting every day knowing that one day they might not come back home, getting injuries they can't always hide well. On top of all that, they have to make excuses at school, make excuses at home, try to keep up with their grades so that they can have a future, they have to think about college/university plans.

Sometimes they get grounded or punished, because they're lying to their family's faces, but it's all for a good cause. But they can't explain that either, because they want to protect the people they love. Peter Parker is usually very poor, in some cases he works one or multiple jobs to help Aunt May pay the bills.

The teenage experience is overwhelming enough, they shouldn't have to worry about the hero thing. But they want to help people. And they deserve to get some help of their own.

I know there are probably some people out there that give Danny or Peter a loving family because they see a lot of themselves in these two. They couldn't get that supportive family, so they go in and they give these teen heroes the family they never had, because they know how much good it would have done for them too. And sometimes that blood/biological family isn't the answer, might even be the root problem of it all, so they give them an adopted one.

Obviously it's still not for everyone, especially if you do want to keep that independent aspect that kinda makes the whole teenage hero trope. So the concept might not be for you, and that's okay too! Unfortunately sometimes that means you have to ignore a lot of fics, but hopefully there are plenty other fics that are out there for you.

[ophelia-writes-stuff]

♥ power of my love . part 1 ♥

. pairing : yandere!austin!elvis x reader

. summary / request : you're a pretty small and local fashion designer, so you are both thrilled and nervous when you get a call from a long-time friend of yours, steve, who tells you that he's got a job for you in vegas for no other than elvis presley. when the two of you meet, sparks fly, but you can't help but notice a more sinister underlining to your friendly relationship as time goes on.

. notes / warning : swearing, usage of drugs (i.e. cigarettes), nothing too dark for this chapter. though i have to say that elvis isn't seen very much in this chapter as i was setting things up, but he'll certainly be much more prominent in future chapters. and, i was wondering, i'm pondering between doing a slowburn and more of a quickly-paced fic, so if you have a preference, please leave it in the comments! thanks, and enjoy!

. word count : 4k

(♥) . . . request something . masterlist . taglist . navigation

(♥) . . . next part

(♥) . . . series masterlist (for all parts and warnings)

tags: @venus-haze, @luckyevansstan, @rxsesss, @ggxsan, @sydneyyyya (if you'd like your name to be removed/added, pls just ask me!)

You'd always loved designing and sewing clothing. Even when you were younger, you remember picking up knitting remarkably fast with your grandmother, who, of course, loved to teach you. Scarves were a thing of the past in only a month, and you had the impressive ability to knit sweaters and stuffies when you were only seven. Sewing, however, proved to be more challenging, as your grandmother managed to teach you the basics of it, but died before you turned ten.

Although, instead of discouraging you from pursuing your passion in clothing, this only motivated you to improve quicker. You could remember going to every library and bookstore in town and finding ever book you could find on sewing to try to get better at the meticulous craft of clothing design and making, and it without a doubt paid off. By your teens you near-perfectly knew the ins and outs of making clothing, and already new some things about design.

You had always appreciated your parents' supporting of your passion in the clothing industry. They eagerly payed your college fees once you had been accepted into one of America's top fashion design schools, and listened intently when you spoke of your future as a clothing designer. You always felt so fortunate to have such wonderful parents in your life.

During your time in college you made many friends, including a certain Steve Binder, and although he didn't technically go to your school, you did spend a great deal amount of time with him as he was skilled in the art of helping anyone find themselves, which not only helped you a great deal when it came to designing clothing that you loved, but made you realize that style was another outlet for just that.

After college you were welcomed home with many job offers, a couple of which you accepted, but you found that you didn't appreciate the stress and pressure that came to being in the public eye of the fashion industry. A little disheartened, you searched for other types of jobs to pursue for people with your type of skill. Luckily, you were able to land some gigs as a personal fashion designer for some somewhat wealthy people near your hometown, and soon found that you greatly enjoyed designing personal outfits for people, and so, you decided to pursuit a career that line of work.

It didn't take long to start climbing the social hierarchy, you soon found out, as in no less than a year you were working for some rich fellows and occasionally some people leaning more on the famous side, all while remaining under the radar of the general public.

And now, almost a decade later, you were happy to report to anyone and everyone that you still love your job, although you had to admit that it could be lonely at times, but you always had music to accompany you.

Swinging your hips side to side as you softly hummed the tune to the song that was currently playing on the radio, the name of which you couldn't quite remember, you smiled as you stared at your newly finished piece of clothing. Mr. Wilson would most certainly love it, this, you were sure of. The suit was perfectly formal but not too over-the-top, and managed to capture the man's essence in it effortlessly.

A wringing from your phone snapped you out of your thoughts, and you hastily walked over to it and picked it up.

"Hello, this is personal clothing stylist Y/n L/n speaking, how may I help you?" you recited, your smile never once faltering. You'd learned through your years of work that smiling while you were talking was crucial when it came to sounding friendly, even when the other person couldn't see you.

"Ah, Y/n. It's been a while, hasn't it?" a familiar voice on the other line spoke. Though you couldn't quite decipher it immediately, once you eventually did, you let out an amused chuckle and muttered a "hey Steve," into the telephone.

"How have you been?" asked your friend.

"Good, good. Busy, but I suppose that's always a good thing. You know what they say: if you love what you do, you'll never work a day in your life."

"Well said, well said."

"And you? How's your work been?"

"Same as yours. Been able to travel quite a bit," you heard Steve let out a quiet laugh. "Actually, that reminds me, I've got a job for you."

"Oh yeah?" You tried not to hide the slight disappointment in your voice as you spoke. It wasn't that you were disappointed by the fact that he had a job for you by any means-- you'd simply let your hopes go up and assumed that Steve was calling you for leisure, not work.

It was irritating, truly-- to think that your small crush on the man from when you were younger had developed over the years, and although you had come to accept that he simply wasn't that into you, but you couldn't help but hope something would suddenly change out of habit-- that a fire would somehow spark in his heart for you and he'd realize after all these years that you were someone that'd he'd consider liking as a bit more than a friend, but you were glad to have him as a friend, nonetheless.

"Yeah. Got an especially big client this time, too. Says he wants to find himself again. I couldn't help but feel like you could help him with just that."

You felt your cheeks heat up at the complement.

"I'm flattered, truly, Steve, but I must ask, how can I really help with something like that? Clothing can only help people so much, and I can't help but feel like whoever you're talking about may need something more than just a new change of clothes."

"I'd agree with you if the situation were different, but this one's pretty special. My client has a show coming up, and he's trying to change up everything and anything he can. The outfit is definitely going to be an important part of that, and I couldn't think of anyone more skilled in the art of making the perfect clothing for the perfect person other than you."

You felt your hands grow clammy at the high praise. You knew Steve was never one to bullshit, and he'd worked with many people like you in the movie industry, so when he said that, he meant it. He truly believed you were one of the -- if not the best clothing stylist in all of America. "Oh, you mean it, Steve? Little ol' me?" You shook your head and couldn't help but grin widely. "Who is this client, anyway?"

"Elvis." He didn't offer up more info, and you couldn't help but gawk at the news.

"Elvis-- you mean the Elvis Presley? The king of rock-and-roll, sole owner of the heart of every woman in America? That Elvis Presley?"

"The one and only." You couldn't understand how Steve seemed so calm about this.

"And me? You want me to be the one to make his outfit? Steve, I don't think I'm very qualified for this position..." You simply couldn't believe it. Though you'd worked on some attire for some people with some important titles, you'd never done something this big. It all felt so surreal. You, a local clothing stylist, were being offered to make an outfit for the Elvis Presley.

"The gig's in California. The flight'll be paid for and so will the hotel, so don't worry about the bill. Can I book you a plane ticket for tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow!? That early?"

"Be at the airport at 7:30am at the latest. Wouldn't want to miss your flight and be late. I'll make sure you get your ticket before the ride. I'll be there to pick you up once you land."

You attempted to protest, but your efforts were futile as Steve had already hung up the phone.

The sneaky bastard.

You tried to think ill of Steve as you started packing your things for the next day, but much to your dismay, you couldn't help but feel thankful that he'd given you such an amazing opportunity. After all, it wasn't just anyone who had the opportunity to design an outfit for the one and only king of rock-and-roll. You couldn't think badly of him for providing you with something like that, even if he was cutting the timing a little short.

Letting out a sigh, you stared at the finished suit that you had only recently just been completed. I'll have my parents send it over, you thought to yourself as you folded your clothing. Your parents had always been good with that.

The night before your flight to California was, arguably, one of the worst night of your life in terms of sleep. You hadn't even managed to fall asleep until around 3:00am, thoughts of meeting Elvis Presley buzzing through your mind. You had tried many times to settle your thoughts and tried to convince yourself that you were barely going to spend much time with the man, and that the most interaction with him that you'd surely have would be a conversation on the topic of what he wanted and a brief period to measure him, but nothing could cease your restless mind.

When you had, in fact, woken up at 6:00am, (which was annoying, as you would have preferred to have gotten up earlier and to have been much more early when you came to the airport) you were without a doubt completely and utterly exhausted. You wished that Steve would have been kind enough to provide you a week to prepare, or to at least get ready to meet one of the most famous men on the planet, before you had to jump on a plane ride to California. But, alas, Steve was never truly one for waiting-- this was something that was undeniable.

Your limbs ached as you brushed your teeth, threw on some clothes, brushed your hair, and even when you ate breakfast. Once you had finally been able to get on the road, you found yourself pressing abnormally hard on the gas pedal as you knew you were cutting it short on time, since the airport was about forty five minutes away at best.

Once you had, in fact, gotten there in one piece, you dashed towards the front to have yourself and your luggage checked in, which was able to be done in a somewhat timely manner. You were sure you must have concerned the woman at the front desk you were talking to with your franticness, but you tried to pay no mind to that fact as you entered the plane as you sat down between two older gentlemen (which, mind you, felt very awkward and uncomfortable).

Regardless, you couldn't help the gradually increasing excitement you felt as the plane got closer and closer to Burbank. You could hardly remain still on your seat once you had finally landed-- it took everything in you to simply take a few seconds before you unfastened your seatbelt and sprung up from the seat you had been confined to for ever so long.

Once you had left plane you were in, you were pleased to find Steve standing only a few meters before you, offering you a friendly wave.

"Hey, Steve," you greeted, offering the man a kind smile. He, in turn, did the same.

"Y/n! Good to see you."

"Not like I had much of a choice."

Steve raised an eyebrow and gave you a slight smile. "So would you have denied the job if you were given the chance?" A more cheeky smile spread its way across Steve's lips-- something rare that wasn't perceived by many, but something you has the opportunity of seeing-- in response to your silence. "That's what I thought. Now, why don't we get in my car and head over there?"

The drive itself wasn't too long, but similarly to how the plane ride felt, seconds seemed to last for an eternity. When you two had eventually arrived, you were practically shaking in your boots. Though you knew you'd most likely have some time before you met Elvis, just being in the same vicinity as the musician spiked your anxiety.

Steve seemed to have noticed this, however, as he offered you a reassuring smile. "Don't worry. EP's a nice guy, trust me. I was just as nervous when I first met him."

At his confession, you let out a skeptical chuckle. "I can almost guarantee you that you were not as nervous as I am right now."

Steve merely shrugged at this, before slipping a cigarette out of his pocket with his right hand and a match with his other. He plopped the cigarette into his mouth and lit it. "Now, let's go find your hotel room," he said, and you didn't miss the way his hand was placed delicately behind your back as he lead you inside.

"Oh wow-- this place is quite extravagant," you mumble mostly to yourself as you stare in awe at the gorgeous architecture and the high ceilings. The fancy jewels and furniture that were placed around the room alone would have most likely been worth more than all of the money you'd ever made.

"Yeah, well, I supposed the Presley Enterprises thought it was wise to have everyone stay in the same hotel, which I suppose is nice." Steve's hand was slipped into his pocket as he abruptly stopped. "We've arrived."

His hand then came right back out of his pocket as he handed you a key. You smiled timidly as you accepted it and placed it into the keyhole, and you felt yourself smile as a satisfying click was felt once you inserted it in and turned it.

To say that your breath was taken away once you entered the room would have been an understatement, and although you were sure that this room was one of the cheapest the hotel had to offer, it was beautiful nonetheless.

"Feel free to run up room service as much as you'd like. I'll leave you here for a couple of hours but I'll come back around noon. You can catch up on sleep or prepare for anything you feel needs to be prepared for."

You smiled, "Thanks, Steve. This means a lot."

The man, in question, shrugged and gave you a small smile in return. "Don't mention it."

Once your friend had left, you placed your room keys somewhere safe and started unpacking the fabric samples that you had taken out for Elvis Presley. You'd decided to only choose the most expensive materials as you knew something cheap would never suit a man with his kind of title.

Once you had made sure they were thoroughly organized, you let out a tired yawn as you dragged yourself over to your new bed. You took a solid moment to stare at the neatly tucked in sheets and the meticulousness that must come from whoever laid the bedding, and felt almost guilty as you ever so carefully ruined it and slipped underneath the covers. You didn't bother putting on any pyjamas-- you were simply much too tired. And, besides, you'd have to get up soon enough, so what was the harm?

Though short, your nap was somewhat enjoyable. The bags under your eyes (which you'd only learned were there once you'd decided to go to the bathroom right before your head hit the pillow) were less pronounced, though you still hastily chose to add some foundation and powder to make them seem less noticeable before Steve came.

Having nothing much to do as you weren't very tired, nor did you need to organize or prepare anything else before you inevitably met Elvis Presley, you placed on some high heels and started fidgeting with your hands. It had always been a habit of yours that you could never quite shake off, but you were fine with that, you supposed. It was much better than many of the vices that some of your colleagues and friends had picked up.

A knock on the door startled you out of your thoughts, and you smiled meekly as you walked up to the entrance of your room and greeted no other than Steve.

"Glad to see you're ready," he said, taking a quick peer into your hotel room. "We're just going to set you up at the studio today, so you can bring your materials and supplies with you. I'll explain how things will work when we're there." You nodded attentively and grabbed your things when your friend finished explaining the current situation.

You came outside and noticed that there is already a cab inside, and when the driver spotted the two of you, seemingly having expected Steve's arrival, he beckoned for the both fo you to enter to which you obliged.

The drive-- luckily-- didn't take very long, and in roughly ten minutes you were standing in front of an NBC studio. It practically screamed for attention, the letters and light all around in flashing in a hypnotizing manner.

"After you," said the man beside you, who, you ever so suddenly noticed, was not beside you any longer, rather, he was opening the door open. You muttered your appreciation as you walked through the studio doors, and all but gaped at the large interior. While, yes, you'd expected to studio to be large, nothing could compare to its truly colossal size.

Steve didn't even bother staring you as he, too, gazed at the room.

"Pretty big, huh?"

You let out a sarcastic chuckle. "Huge."

You followed Steve through the studio as he started meandering around the halls.

"Were are we going?" You asked curiously, after a couple of moments.

"Just to your new office. Then I'll lay some ground rules." At this, an eyebrow of yours quirked.

"Ground rules?"

"Yup."

Steve didn't offer you any more information about the topic.

Once the two of you finally entered what you presumed to be your new office, Steve motioned for you to take a seat, and so, you did just that. You stared up at him, with a hidden interest as to what his next words would be.

"Ok, so, ground rules," he starts, pacing around the room in a peculiarly formal manner. "Firstly, you aren't to speak to the Colonel to tell him what you are designing." To this, your eyebrows raised, and you stared at Steve in a way as if to say, please explain.

"The Colonel is Elvis's manager-- you know this much, yeah?" You nodded at his statement. It was unlike any normal person not to know the Colonel. He was a publicly hated figure, known for practically stealing Elvis's pay check and being the most greedy man on the face of the Earth. "Yeah, well, the thing is, he doesn't know about Elvis's plans. He believes that Elvis is supposed to and is going to do a Christmas special."

"A Christmas special? Elvis?" You echoed incredulously, resulting in a nod from Steve.

"That's what the Colonel and the investors believe. But, as I'm sure you could imagine, Elvis isn't a fan, so he's decided to take on a new path to this whole thing-- but the Colonel doesn't know, not just yet. I'll try to make sure he doesn't talk to you, but if he does, just talk about something Christmas related you've got in the works." Your brows furrowed. Was this job even legal?

"Now, since most of the clothing is made, your job is simply to provide the perfect outfits for Elvis--" Upon seeing your now worried expression, Steve tried to offer you a reassuring smile. "--Who you'll meet today, but won't yet work with, so don't worry about that too much right now."

"That-- that's good. Yeah. That works." Your heart was racing at the mere prospect of being in the same building as Elvis-- so the simple idea of meeting him made your knees weak. You could barely speak without fumbling over your words.

Of course, you weren't quite like how some girls were when it came to fawning over Elvis, but there was no denying that you loved rock-and-roll, and you never minded a pretty face to accompany it. And, after all, you were going to be meeting America's most popular icon of the decade. It was only natural to be a bit nervous.

"Alright," Steve seemed to nod to himself. "I'll give you about... ten minutes? Then I'll introduce you to Elvis."

The moments that followed felt much longer than when you were on that plane ride.

You wasted no time in unpacking your materials and placing them in an orderly manner around the room. Once you had finished, you sat back down in the chair you had previously been seated on. Your knee bounced up and down as your mind wandered and tried to find something interesting to think about.

Unfortunately, however, your mind was clouded with thoughts of Elvis. You tried to bury them deep down as you occasionally readjusted your tightly-fitted dress and toyed with your hair. More than an eternity seemed to have passed before Steve had finally entered the room, and didn't give you so much as a word as he nodded in your direction, as if beckoning for you to follow him, to which you obliged.

Upon seeing the back of a black-haired man in a suit, your eyes nearly flew out of their sockets. He was presumably waiting for the both of you-- and with slicked back and an iconic greasy hairstyle, there was no denying who the man before you was.

Elvis Presley.

"Elvis," Steve greeted in a formal tone. The man, in question, turned around, and right you were. It was undoubtedly no other than Elvis Presley.

"I'd like to introduce you to your new clothing designer, Y/n L/n. She's the best that I've ever seen in the industry." Now, this peaked Elvis's interest. He knew how stingy Steve was when it came to compliments, so you truly must have been something.

Elvis's eyes briefly raked over your body, and, feeling unable to help it, you pulled down your dress as low as you could and offered a small, shy smile.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Presley."

Elvis could only shake his head bashfully at the formal greeting, and in a deep, husky voice, said, "Pleasure's all mine," and offered you the most charming of smiles. "And, please, call me Elvis."

Once Steve had left and allowed you two to chat for a little while, you knew that you were visibly shaking, but Elvis was kind and tried to offer you as much reassurance as he could, and it was endearing-- his humbleness, his caring nature. Conversation flowed like a river between you two when the ice finally broke and you were able to become a little bit more open.

Regardless, the two of you had to cut the conversation short when Elvis got called over by his manager, and he bid you a quick farewell and offered you a grin before leaving you to your own devices.

And watching him walk off, you couldn't shake off the sense that something had just blossomed between the two of you-- something new, something raw. Something that you couldn't quite decipher the connotation of, but you knew would grow.

Your thoughts didn't get too far as you were immediately called over by Steve, who assigned you to a couple of tasks before claiming you were done for the day. At this, you, of course, after a long day, practically ran to your hotel room and collapsed on your bed when you got there. Although you were most certainly excited by the day and had whatever one could consider as "fun" considering you were working, you were still exhausted by your lack of sleep the previous night, so you wasted no time in changing into your pyjamas and clambering back into your bed.

And when your head hit the pillow, your eyes closed as you let fatigue take you over, but couldn't help your whirlwind of thoughts about the show, and Steve, and Elvis, before you truly lost your consciousness.

[landinrris]

This is gonna get super long so sorry in advance but I wanted to put it out there that I would pay real good money to know what Lando and Martin's friends think of the whole thing.

Like on Lando's side you have his lifelong friends who are his safety bubble who he spends all his time with, he always tends toward his close known circle rather than throwing himself into a ton of new friendships (Carlos being an exception but the teammate bond plus the covid bubble was a big accelerator there and of the group only Sasha really seemed to embrace that friendship, the others even mock it at times). And since he's been in F1, they've watched Lando gradually start to be more outgoing and lose some of his shyness but its first half of 2022 and he still clings to their bubble, even now he has a serious gf. Also he lets them tag along on nights out with people like Max Verstappen so they're all happy with that. Then come Summer 2022 there they all are on their traditional yacht vacation this time in Ibiza, and Lando takes them to meet a famous DJ that Danny Ric has helped Lando to get them backstage at his gig. They know Lando's getting into DJ'ing so they likely don't think much of it beyond cool, we get to meet Martin Garrix.

And then pretty much from that moment on they would have watched Lando throw himself headfirst into a new friendship with this DJ, going to stay in his hometown after just a few weeks, they see this dude buy Lando a DJ'ing set up even tho he barely knows him, then Lando checks out early from their annual winter Dubai trip to go on vacation with the DJ taking only Martin K with him, he starts hanging backstage at this DJs shows and before his buddies know it they find they've been more or less ditched during any F1 breaks except for the odd bone of a week of attention here and there thrown their way. I remember Fewtrell in early summer 23 on a stream bemoaning with Connor about how their yacht trips no longer happened and Fewtrell was like it will again, I've had words, and I've never heard anything that made me think "ha you'll be lucky" quite so fast. I also remember Fewtrell trying to bring Martin up on stream once when Lando was staying at his, must have been like Feb/March time, Lando mentioned learning to produce and Fewtrell made a comment like 'oh is Garrix teaching you' a little sarcastically and Lando just went 'yes' and shut the conversation down in an instant, like he was saying no, you don't get to go there and Fewtrell's face was a picture, he looked like a kicked puppy for a second before remembering there was a camera on him. They also see Lando getting adopted by Martin's close circle of friends and him adopting them in return. And then having been ditched most of the year, Lando's group find an about turn this winter when Martin actually goes on vacation with them for once and they're permitted to get to know him, before they then watch Lando head off to be glued to Martin's hip for more or less the entire rest of the winter break.

And then on Martin's side you have his lifelong friends who yes have become friendly with some other people around him who Martin's good friends with, they know Danny Ric from when Danny goes to Ibiza and they've gotten to know Max over the years, but here Martin is in late 2022 suddenly parachuting this young F1 driver he's only known a handful of weeks right into their Amsterdam world, not even Ibiza but their hometown. They got to know him in that time I guess, and then just as suddenly Martin is going on vacation with this dude, making an effort to fit spending time with him into his hyper-busy schedule. Lando even makes another visit to their hometown mid-summer. And then come end of Summer 2023 they are all on vacation together in Ibiza, Lando is staying with them in a villa there and they have adopted him to the point he's part of their core group celebrating their birthdays. (As an aside, I can't help but think they must have spent much more time with Lando than we know prior to Ibiza 2023 for him to be staying in a villa with them and them calling him family at that stage and for Lando to look so comfortable and at home around them. There has to have been time they have spent with Lando when he has been with Martin that we have no idea about for them to consider him part of their group that way).

Then this winter they've not only watched Martin be essentially glued to Lando's side for a vast majority of his free time and going on vacation with Lando's close circle but have also been witness to their entire carryon, things like the matching clothing, the vacation couple postcard pics etc all of which seems quite out of character even for someone as affectionate as Martin is. Like I've only followed Martin since he became friendly with Lando but I don't see him doing this kinda thing with anyone else. Thinking about it, his friends have likely been witness to their carryon for a while if those loud shirt & shorts combos from Ibiza were anything to go by.

I'll end this now as it's got out of hand (Sorry!) but I really truly would love to know what both sets of friends thoughts are on it all. Like I wonder if they all just realized gradually over time the way things were going or if they've actually had moments of sitting back and going wtf??!!

While I love the idea of an outsider's pov on the insanity of the trajectory of Lando and Martin's relationship, I hesitate to make it sound like Lando's older friends are leaches or that he's abandoned them, and that's something they feel spite for.

Lando did spend time with Max F during the first bit of Summer this year, and I believe Tom was in Ibiza at one point. He's had dinner with Max and Pietra and Pietra's family a few times. We've also seen them together (Tom specifically) in Monaco a few times during non-race weeks with a few of Lando's newer friends. As practically lifelong friends who find themselves on different career and relationship paths, it probably takes a bit of adjusting to changes in plans (e.g., Lando and co not going on the yacht this year).

Meeting someone new and involving yourself with their friends to the point where they become your own doesn't necessarily mean you drop your childhood ones. Sometimes friend groups don't mix and you do different things with each one.

I'm sure both parties though recognize how important each of them are to each other, especially when Lando is so firm with his boundaries and not wanting to talk Martin up. Martin bringing Lando into his group and introducing him to everyone in itself seems to be a very pointed and powerful stance on what he thinks in the first place. It is indeed a little crazy to think about when you stop moving for a minute and let your brain run.

[joshkiszkachaos]

Halloween/Autumn with Eddie Munson Includes:

Warning: Implied sexual content

Dragging him into going to Halloween stores in your spare time which also includes forcing him into decorating your house later.

Finding old costumes and getting him to dress up as the devil for Halloween. When he protest you persuade him and he says yes, only if you'll promise be the angel to his devil.

Which was contrary to belief, if anything you were his devil and he was your angel.

Only wearing costumes at home and around each other.

Him coming up with ideas for you two to be characters from his fantasy games/books and you deny him promising you'll do it next year.

Teaching him how to carve a pumpkin even though you don't know how to do it that well.

Watching horror movies together and coming up with ways in which you think it's gonna play out.

Going on autumn drives together in his van with the music blasting on the radio as your hair flows in the wind.

Tagging along to his drug deals, only if he promises to hand out candy with you.

Autumn being Eddie's busiest time of the year.

Him scaring you or pulling pranks on you just because its THAT time of the year.

Having him promise you that he won't plan a gig on Halloween night so you two can be together.

Baking halloween cookies together and playfully fighting with each other by throwing flour at one another. Only for those cookies to later burn because you forgot them in the oven.

Binge watching horror movies all night until one of you falls asleep and the other hits them with a pillow and starts a pillow fight.

Eddie having to dealing with more harassment from classmates asking him weird questions and teasing him saying satanic shit.

Telling Eddie that's not who he is and reminding him how amazing he is to you, while giving him a kiss.

Him denying that he cares what they say or think even though you know it gets on his nerves.

Wearing matching plaid pajama pants.

Eddie interacting with little kids as he gives them candy and you can't help but be more attracted to him each time he does it.

If he likes a trick or treaters costume he will give them more candy. The scarier or more recognizable costume the better.

Having to wear gloves each time you go out with him because his rings get cold when he holds your hand.

Yelling at him because he likes to tease you by running his cold hands or feet on you.

Asking to put makeup on him and he agrees but nothing more than eyeliner and a bit of black eyeshadow.

Stealing all the blankets when cuddling. Eddie then snuggles up to you to preserve heat.

Eddie getting more ideas for the bedroom, like wearing a mask or costume while having sex.

Fighting to decided who has to get up and answer the door to give out candy because both of you guys don't wanna get up.

A/N: I'll probably add more later but for now I just really wanted to post this!

[bunbeeplays]

The Lemon Legacy: Generation 1, Chapter 44 - Soarin', Flyin', Roastin'

The first thing Ophelia does the next morning is set her ass on fire because she forgot to clean the lint tray of her dryer. I didn't get many screenshots because I was too busy screaming and crying and throwing up but I think this one speaks for itself.

Xander has to leave to help his parents around the house, but he has time to clean up the aftermath of the fire while Ophelia cleans the soot off of herself. He finds that he doesn't mind helping out with chores. He rather likes it, actually!

Ophelia's stressed, as one would be after setting themselves on fire, and does some yoga to calm down. It doesn't entirely make the stressed moodlet go away.

Ophelia Marie, stop shouting forbidden words and eat your chickpea tacos! You've got a wedding to sing at tonight!

Another successful wedding at La Coppia Serena. The staff has just cleared out and… what's this? Is someone at the piano?

Ophelia plunks away, playing a tune any Simillennial would recognize.

Xander: Isn't this from Rabbithole School Musical? This song is so corny.

Ophelia: Don't act like you don't know the words.

🎶You know the world can see us In a way that's different than who we are Creating space between us 'Til we're separate hearts But your faith it gives me strength Strength to believe🎶

https://t.co/6mOx6AxJs5

Xander pulls her into his lap and she lets out an involuntary giggle as she continues to sing with him.

🎶We're breakin' free We're soarin' Flyin' There's not a star in heaven That we can't reach If we're trying Yeah, we're breaking free🎶

They finish their song and Ophelia slides off his lap.

Xander: Why don't we go back to your place and break free of our clothes?

Ophelia: OMW you dork… but yeah, absolutely.

Moses: I picked a good day to forget my wallet.

Drew: Looks like this case is closed, my friend.

The two scramble off the bench and try to think of a way to hand wave that display.

Xander: Oh, hey! I was just… learning piano.

Ophelia: Yeah, I was teaching him some notes and the bench is really small so I had to sit in his lap!

Moses: We weren't born yesterday. I think I know more than anyone that tickling the ivories like that isn't merely platonic.

Drew: We spent so much time speculating and we never even considered our own little Ophelia was the mystery lover all along.

Xander: I think the gig is up, Lemon Cake.

Ophelia: Look, guys, it's really not what you think. Xander and I aren't dating. We're just… woohooing. We were just having some fun at the piano. We'd really appreciate it if you kept it on the down low, especially with Hilary.

Moses: Oh, woohoo partners, I see. Cheeky!

Drew: Been there, done that. Don't worry. Your secret is safe with us.

Xander: You guys are… taking this pretty well.

Drew: Are you kidding? We finally found out something about your oh-so-secretive woohoo life!

Moses: Hell yeah!

Xander: Your dads are a little too supportive.

Ophelia: I guess they're compensating for my actual parents.

[bookloveravenue]

Love, Theoretically by Aliz Hazelwood

The many lives of theoretical physicist Elsie Hannaway have finally caught up with her. By day, she’s an adjunct professor, toiling away at grading labs and teaching thermodynamics in the hopes of landing tenure. By other day, Elsie makes up for her non-existent paycheck by offering her services as a fake girlfriend, tapping into her expertly honed people pleasing skills to embody whichever version of herself the client needs.

Honestly, it’s a pretty sweet gig—until her carefully constructed Elsie-verse comes crashing down. Because Jack Smith, the annoyingly attractive and broody older brother of her favorite client, turns out to be the cold-hearted experimental physicist who ruined her mentor’s career and undermined the reputation of theorists everywhere. And that same Jack who now sits on the hiring committee at MIT, right between Elsie and her dream job.

Elsie is prepared for an all-out war of scholarly sabotage but…those long, penetrating looks? Not having to be anything other than her true self when she’s with him? Will falling into an experimentalist’s orbit finally tempt her to put her most guarded theories on love into practice?

********

June 17, 2023

My Review: 5/5 Stars

Ali Hazelwood has easily become one of my favorite authors. She writes fantastic romances with strong leads of female scientists. Humor that is brilliant and quirky with each character. And guys you can't help but wish existed. I loved her books and this latest one is just another great addition to her works. This story follows Elsie. A theoretical physicist in the search of getting a job where she can research and stop teaching (she really does not like being an adjunct professor). She especially needs a better job to keep her financially afloat, especially when she has a medical condition. And when she becomes a finalist for position she really wants, she just has to pass the last few interviews and tests. But things get complicated. Her other job has finally proven that the world is indeed that small. So when she isn't teaching and researching, she gets paid to be someone's girlfriend. Something Elsie excels at because during the years she has mastered reading people and shaping herself to be the person they need her to be. And when her latest client's brother is on the committee that will determine her future, things reach way beyond complicated. Jack has been suspicious of Elsie since day one along with something else that Elsie isn't quite sure of. But now all he sees is a liar and poor Elsie can't explain. Not yet. Not without giving away his brother's secrets. However, things don't stay this way for too long. And it is truthfully just the beginning of their story. There is more history, a bit of a rivalry between then, some enemies-to-lovers, and just so many other pieces of their story. And I loved every moment of it. Elsie and Jack were just so great together! Jack is the one person Elsie can't read and it forces to be herself for the first time ever. And she isn't sure what to make of that, but she is learning. And you can just tell how much Jack adores Elsie, even when she can't see it at first. Absolutely adored this story and devoured it in a day. You won't want to miss this!

[catb-fics]

I have a story request/suggestion! So from catb's music, I have noticed a pattern in Van's attitude when it comes to relationships based from the lyrics. In my own understanding he's the type of guy that loves pretty heavily (or even "deadly" as he once said in an interview).

"i'd rather go blind than let you down"

And we all kinda know his dream of being a dad and starting his own family.

"i don't wanna picture our first born if you've stopped discussing names with me"

However, it also appears that our boy's not that good when it comes to communicating.

"i love you but i need another year alone/another minute to myself"

"offer you everything and never pull through"

and of course, fallout...

So as a masochist myself, I keep on imagining a story where Van McCann met this new girl (Y/N - that somehow started working with the band) and he's been trying so hard to resist her for whatever reason (maybe he can't handle relationships very well while on tour and there's also conflict with the band that he's having a hard time resolving - he's keeping the band together so he cannot afford to be distracted at this point).

So basically, their relationship was kinda push and pull, one step forward and two steps back kinda thing... there's obviously angst innit... Then at some point where the Female Lead (FL) was convinced that Van's also into her and cares deeply for her, there comes a major problem with the band... So the fallout I had in mind was Van started hooking up with a random girl one night after a failed show/gig and FL came to talk him out of it. Van said some nasty words as he was very much drunk and even made out w/ a random girl in front of FL. (But there can be other scenarios too that will lead to their fallout, as long as i'll end up bawling my eyes after reading it then i'm good!)

And of course, our boy, Van McCann will regret it deeply. So he grovels to get the FL back... But he'll spend years searching for her first... (We'll want massive grovelling and plot twists too but hopefully a happy ending also!)

So that's it!!! This is my first time requesting for a story but I am heavily invested with this band and I miss them so much 🥹🥹🥹

(I don't even know if you'll read this since it's pretty lengthy but thank you!!! 💗)

Oh wow I love this and I love how detailed it is, thank you so much! I would be honoured to write this but I’m not sure I can start yet another long story WIP right now- however I started a story called Teach Me ages ago (I’m not sure if you read it, I kind of ran out of steam with it and abandoned it but it’s on Wattpad) but I think I could actually incorporate all of this into that story and pick it back up again - what do you think? Van in that one was going to be very much avoidant of long-term relationships until he met someone who turned his life upside down - but yeah lots of angsty stuff I love that! And I agree I think he falls hard and fast with the best intentions but I think he’s struggled with commitment in the past due to him sacrificing everything for the band 😭

And thank you for sending me this 💗 xxxx

[the-firebird69]

They keep hauling people off to prison and it's this pseudo empire and they cannot be trusted around our son none of them can at all

You saw Max on his side his eyeballing me lately the same stuff he's probably right it's a front door open I can't help it we're going to go down but he has to pay for what he's saying to me ... Feel it out such a howl it was very recognizable is what I'm saying it and he said you're going to get me for what I'm saying just spent most people can't do anything don't know what to do when you're sick. Who started spewing confirm you from anyone to admit we don't put up with this s*** and luckily it's ruining the empire oh something you turned into nothing you turn around and said what are you saying nobody ever says this s*** about the ever just cuz you f***** say it every day doesn't mean you're not going to die you treat me like s*** all the time they all treat me like s*** you have no way out we are going to annihilate you and you're stupid killer s*** and I used you like a f****** little girl you're so goddamned easy I can't get you to go the other way which is the right way at all you should be ashamed of yourself instead of screaming like Michael to the baby. Now our son said that to him and he said your dad your dad said we're putting a hit on you you're going to lose your brain bye you deserve it for you you didn't hopkinton. Alone that one incident. No he died and it says you can't do that and it said I'll do it again if you don't shut your f****** pie hole you're a little boy now you've accepted it that's the way you want to live you follow our rules maybe you'll live till tomorrow and he says nobody talks everyone talks to you that way you're a dumb s*** now . You come down as us I can't help it and I get what you're saying we're going the wrong way and you're trapped and it's going to be bad and he says this you're supposed to come in said who the max that everyone advice foreigners have to come in and it's the same silly game with us and he says you're right this is stupid what do I do said I don't know every time I have someone trying to do something they try and screw you it doesn't work and you're bothering me like Bay Rudy is going to go get his car but he wants to bring the bugs up there drop them off at the empire sometimes I feel like that and he says how so if you watch this Warhammer 40,000 you can see these spider robots and his own clan trying to get to him and Tony f is there already and he puts his family into the pyramid fries himself but it's a bug robots that give it away and he says wow that's pretty bad there's another aspect to this it doesn't come until he loses his whole fleet of empire ships coming up and he's making you talk s*** and he's teaching people to scream this s*** and ordering hits through me and he's doing it with the fleet and he's losing a whole bunch of it right now and he says I can't believe this he's finally losing that stupid crap and it's like this threat sitting off there a little baby. What you're saying it's not nice and is watching and he sees him doing it looks like daughter is an excuse and terrible things are going to happen to that guy. Morning moment

Thor Freya

Olympus

I need that guy out of here

Hera

I'm going to get something done

Frank Castle hardcastle

We need to do it now I'm tired of his glary looks as fat little face that's stupid a****** has to leave

Duke nukem Blockbuster

So you going to put yourself in San Quentin Warden or not who gives a s*** you're filth trying to remillard so your realm you are filth you are the lowest there is I do appreciate your asinine efforts so far you don't understand it because you are dumb and you're not a loyal Satanist

Zues

I got something I keep f****** everything up really badly and the empire is not doing well either I have to say something this guy's kind of right my stuff is really bad and ripe nobody is stopping me before I had a gig and I was doing well he told me to cause I don't believe him and it's horrible these clothes are mine not Terry cheesman they're made by Dave and I'm horrified or ghwb more likely so I have to go research it this sucks at least you're smart enough to figure it out and kind enough to tell me most of you don't do anything like that a bunch of hypocritical assholes trying to take stuff all day and night it's so f****** bad we are all going to die blind

Trump and yeah he's taking a big risk by telling me no it's not his stuff his people don't make more of us to make less of us

[davidpwilson2564]

Bloglet

Friday, September 6, 2023

Note: At the Met Opera House, "Dead Man Walking." Death row and a simpathetic nun. I learn that the convict she is consoling (I do not mean to ruin it for you) dies by lethal injection.

On my rounds I run into Dan H, who is waiting to load in some equipment at Carnegie Hall. We catch up. St. Luke's orchestra is about to play a program in which four pianists complete. All will play the first movement of the Liszt Piano Concerto No. 1. Two people play, intermission, two more people play. And then, we guess, the judges vote. It's a gig.

Dan tells me show business, especially Broadway, has pretty much closed the doors on older white guys. He says he is pretty sure he'll never get another show (he has gotten into contracting). He says he is sixty eight. I realize, once again, that I am so much older than the guys I work (worked) with. My late start. Dammit.

Note: Speaker of the House up for grabs. Two contendors consider debating (on Fox). Scalise and Jordon. This could be a riot and it is realized that it could be more circus-y than edifying. They cancel. Stay tuned. (Scalise, it is said, still limps from his wound. Was shot by a crazy at that baseball game. Jordon too is a wounded man but his problem is mental.) Marjorie Taylor Greene, crazy woman from Georgia, suggested Trump as speaker of the House. But...the role can't go to someone under indictment (do I have this right?). He can be president (even from jail) but can't be the speaker. (Do I have this right?) We live in insane times.

Saturday, October 7, 2023

I try to reach my son. No luck. I try to reach Jean. Again, no luck. They must be very busy. Later: Talk to AB. He's giving me a couple of days of teaching. Also, there is supposed to be that B'lyn gig but don't know if I want to do it.

Errands. Light rain and I enjoy getting a little wet.

Ah, I am a bit successful in trying to read. This is change. Actually was able to concentrate, to pull a book off the shelf and sit with it for a while. Will try again tomorrow.

Trouble concentrating. Trouble (big time) sleeping. Ever since Covid. A long run...never quite recovering. For me, seventy to eighty is kind of a blur. Old age crept in.