#and i was like oh my favourite bands fall out boy

[petewentzisblack1312]

i dont think this is relatable to anyone but a lot of people i encounter have never heard of fall out boy but the thing is i dont know if theyve never heard of fall out boy or if they just dont know theyve heard of fall out boy. and youre thinking, well thats easy. list some singles. ok. which singles. because trying to figure out which fall out boy single someone is most likely to have heard is like throwing a dart at a map. do i start with sugar? centuries? light em up? thanks for the memories? if they dont know any of these songs does that tell me theyve never heard a fall out boy song? no. it tells me theyve never heard those ones. dance dance, this aint a scene, the phoenix, uma thurman, i don't care. and still someones gonna come out the gate swinging to pull the rug from under me and tell me a week later they did actually know fall out boy. theyve heard the last of the real ones.

[velchronica]

blue lock boys’ perfect matches ( part i ) ♬~*.°₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ bllk

charas: isagi, bachira, chigiri, kunigami, reo (seperate, aged up/pro, fem!reader)

୨୧ * my personal hcs on who the bllk boys would fall in love with, how they’d meet and some scenarios unique to their relationships * just for fun -> nothing serious ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ * (part one/???)

isagi yoichi! ˖♡ ࣪‧♫ ₊˚໒꒱⋆✩

୨୧ * i feel like isagi would probably be the type who falls in love with the sports journalist interviewing him 😭 he’s such a football nerd & he’d defo suit someone who understands his passion, esp on a technical level. he defo rambles and borderline mansplains his tactics and plays to a sports journalist!s/o, but i also think he’s good at finding a decent work-life balance, so sports isn’t everything in your relationship.

୨୧ * isagi’s ability to separate his professional life aka his football ego/persona from his sweet irl personality would make him a green flag bf, bc he defo puts in as much effort into his relationship as he does football. he loves football, but he also loves his s/o just as much, if not slightly more, so while football is a prominent part in both your lives, it isn’t necessarily the defining factor in your relationship.

୨୧ * i also think isagi would date someone driven towards their own career, even if it’s not journalism. he defo would LOVE you in sporty clothing or leggings that show off ur thighs cos he has a canonical thing for those lmao. oh AND he’s the type who’s quite good with kids but has a level of awkwardness with them still, so watching his s/o struggle to interact with them would set him up for a laugh (w/ no ill intent, ofc). but if you’re really good with kids, no problem, because he’ll just watch you with sparkling eyes full of awe, heart swelling with unbridled affection.

୨୧ * he would defo be the perfect bf if you’re a picky eater cos he’ll find ways to work with your preferences but also encourage you to try new foods. the gentlemen who whisks you out everywhere to try new cuisine at nice restaurants and sneakily pays mid-meal during a ‘bathroom break’ so that when you attempt to pull your card out afterwards, he can simply smile and shake his head. goddamnit isagi. his argument is that growing up average and then getting propelled into wealth and fame means that he jumps at every opportunity to spoil you and show you off. you’re beautiful inside and out and he won’t treat you like anything less than a goddess.

bachira meguru! ˖♡ ࣪‧♫ ₊˚໒꒱⋆✩

୨୧ * bachira’s ideal s/o is either someone who loves retro 70s clothing, an indie band kid, or both combined. i feel like bachira’s goofy ass would go well with someone sweet, but not quite as hyperactive as himself. his ideal s/o is definitely either a bookworm or a guitarist, with no in between. he’s defo such a gremlin with you, either interrupting your peaceful reading sessions by being clingy and demanding cuddles, or asking you to play his favourite songs instead of the things you’re meant to be practicing.

୨୧ * bachira would go to every single one of guitarist!s/o’s gigs. he loves you so much, after all! you can hear his holler of your name over the crowds cheers as the speakers blare and your strings come to life. he’s not a memorisation-strong kind of guy, but he definitely knows all the lyrics to your favourite songs, and the lyrics to your originals, too. he has two versions of each one of your albums, one for the cd and one to add to the house-of-cd-cases-turned-shrine he has assembled somewhere in your apartment.

୨୧ * whereas with bookworm!s/o, bachira got his mom to teach him how to paint so that he could do those viral page-edge paintings. on your birthday, he gifts you hardback copies of your favourite books with intricate fore-edge paintings to match. if your favourite book has a movie or tv show adaption that you love, he definitely painted your favourite scene. although he’s not an avid reader, bachira will listen to your attempts to summarise a recently-read novel, even if he’s not quite following by halfway through.

୨୧ * he also only sporadically posts on his socials, but when he does, it’s usually random shitposts or spam posts of the two of you together. maybe at a gig or at a bookstore, but they’re all ‘artistically’ blurry. still, both of your smiles are clearly visible despite the lack of phone camera focus.

chigiri hyoma! ˖♡ ࣪‧♫ ₊˚໒꒱⋆✩

୨୧ * if you tell me this man wouldn’t date a a fashion magazine editor!s/o, you’re lying. he’s such a princess, and i can just imagine him as being a passionate fashionista as well, so i think he’d suit someone with a similar love for and knowledge of style. bring this man to fashion week please. actually, he probably met you there. he defo also impulse buys designer, whether it’s bags, clothes or just a pair of shades. he’s a diva like that /hj

୨୧ * shopping is a battle to the death between the two of you on which store to go in next. there’s not enough hours in the working day to account for your retail therapy sessions, given how long the two of you spend browsing the aisles together. at some point you panic, wondering where you’ve misplaced $500 of clothes, until your boyfriend rolls his eyes and shakes the bags he’s holding. you don’t even remember giving him the bags.

୨୧ * the two of you definitely rate and critique met gala outfits together. contrary to what most may believe, it is a NEED, not a want. when someone comes wandering onto the red carpet dressed in this year’s fashion monstrosity, just know that the two of you will be referencing it for days if not weeks, because really, how could anyone have the guts to go out wearing that?

୨୧ * just hope that you’re good with hair, because this fussy princess isn’t going to let you within ten feet of his if you have a brush in hand and you aren’t. his hair is his prized possession for all that he does the bare minimum to look as dazzling as he does, and chigiri would rather not ruin it. but if you’re good at elaborate and pretty hairdos, just know that his winding down comfort time is letting you try out new styles, strands of pink dancing over one another as they’re weaved into place by your fingers.

kunigami rensuke! ˖♡ ࣪‧♫ ₊˚໒꒱⋆✩

୨୧ * kunigami’s so highschool sweethearts-coded. maybe you started dating before blue lock and persevered through his change in persona, knowing full well that his kind and hardworking self was still present under the gruff, cold exterior. maybe he pined after you hopelessly for years until stumbling upon you years later. either way, he’s been madly in love with you since your high school days, and don’t think he’ll ever stop.

୨୧ * but like oh my god, this man would SO date a kindergarten (or elementary school) teacher!s/o. someone who is doting and good with kids, but is also hardworking and knows how to reward people efforts or work on their lack thereof. maybe it’s his superhero agenda but i think early years teachers are heroes in themselves, teaching young children valuable life lessons and basic skills and subjects, and therefore i think kunigami would really suit a teacher!s/o.

୨୧ * bring this man to meet your students and give them an assembly on how taking care of themselves plus hard work are the keys to fulfilling their dreams. the way these kids would be screaming because their sweet, humble teacher is dating football phenomenon kunigami rensuke, and he’s here to tell them that alcohol and nicotine addictions aren’t healthy. plus, eat your greens, kids. you’ll become a superhero in no time.

୨୧ * kunigami is either hopeless at cooking, five star michelin-worthy malewife chef material, or, the most boring option, the most mid chef of all time. ‘mid’ as in, he can put together a decent meal but nothing mindblowing, only occasionally tries to cook something new. i like to think that as the middle child, his older sister is a lost cause when it came to cooking, and his younger sister is quite the closet gourmet, so he knows how to cook pretty damn well. just know that after a long day, if he’s home earlier than you, you can expect an array of delectable dishes and the most delicious feast you can imagine waiting for you.

mikage reo! ˖♡ ࣪‧♫ ₊˚໒꒱⋆✩

୨୧ * i feel like reo would date someone who is far from having grown up well-off, maybe someone who grew up with difficult domestic circumstances, someone who’s fought tooth and nail to reach where they are today. for this reason, i feel like he’d date a corporate ceo!s/o. he admires how you’re both self-assured and self-made, and how your success bloomed from your own efforts and skill. to reo, who’s grown up with privilege and wealth without ever really having to try before he found football, he can’t help but find your work ethic and resilience attractive. they say confidence is attractive, after all.

୨୧ * he loves to spoil you, but he definitely doesn’t buy your love. while a good portion of his gifts to you do involve a waving of his black card, and are often designer, he also likes the authenticity of doing something for you. after all, with all the money in the world, he worries material goods may seem like half-assed presents that can’t even convey half of his feelings towards you. especially a ceo!s/o, because he’d hate for you to feel belittled by his love just because he was born into money. that won’t do at all! so now reo invests a lot of his spare time learning to do things himself, so that he can then do those things for you.

୨୧ * one of those things was pottery. prior to the two of you moving in together, he had been taking classes on ceramics and pottery so that he could surprise you with his hand-crafted and painted dining set. plates, mugs, bowls—each of them were painted with motifs relevant to places you’d been together. from the tropical beaches of bali, to the mountain views of peru and even the most famous italian vineyards—every plate was painted to bear some resemblance to the backgrounds of photos you’d taken at these locations. after all, reo is quite the globetrotter, because he loves going on adventures with you.

୨୧ * but sometimes the best days are days when you can laze about together. listen, reo’s always been the type of guy to never have a moment of rest. he always had so many things to do, because he was so good at everything that people usually required more of him. not that it was impossible for him, but it did mean a lot of his life was always scheduled out, busy and hectic. that’s why reo relishes in the moments where can relax in your arms, away from prying eyes, the paparazzi, the outside world—he loves how you can make a day full of nothing everything to him.

© velchronica 2024

[katiesbowlcut]

hiii i saw u needed requests to blurbs/ headcanons so here i am 🤭 could u write julien x reader where julien has a crush on a random youtuber (that like talks about books and stuff) and phoebe and lucy makes fun of julien bc she wasn’t this type of person before and then one day this bookworm youtuber says that she’s going to a boygenius show and julien tries everything to meet reader?

pls and thank u

i hope this isn’t too long

julien baker x yt!crush ღ

format: blurb

warnings: none!

a/n: i literally fell in love with this the second i saw it omg it’s so cute<3 been working on some anxiety comfort ideas but can’t choose a member of muna or boygenius to do first so if there’s one anyone would like to be first please do request it!! thank you so much for all the likes on my stuff it means the world 💞

okay so, the boys are on tour but tonight is a very special night for them becauseeeee… they have a night off!! they go out, have some nice dinner then decide to just chill in the tour bus for the rest of the night because they don’t need to wake up extra early to go to their next tour destination

so julien is in her lil bunk (pls i can just imagine how snuggled up she is) and she is so beyond bored

so what do you do when you’re bored? you browse tiktok until you fry your brain!!

she’s scrolling on her fyp not really bothering to actually watch through any of the tiktoks she's starting, that is until she sees…you

she mutters a barely audible “woah”

within a minute she’s followed you and is now stalking your whole account

cut to around 20 minutes later and she’s holding her phone sideways (pretty close to her face but not that close that she can’t see) watching one of your youtube videos.

this spiral continues until she is that exhausted she physically can’t keep her eyes open anymore

for the next few weeks this is her new routine: getting ready for shows watching your videos, buying your favourite books online and reading them on her phone when she gets the chance. she never falls asleep without watching at least one of your videos & a few tiktoks

one time she’s watching your newest video after having to wait a whole excruciatingly long day, she’s got headphones in, she’s never been so relaxed until…

you say you HATE people who read books online

“just buy the real book? why can’t people put down their screens anymore” and you’re clearly not being serious as you laugh and continue to joke about how all millennials are just taller ipad kids

but julien? it is no joke to her. in an instant she has removed her online books and has planned to go to the nearest bookstore when she’s next free and buy them all ‘for real’

i feel like the moment phoebe and lucy find out is SO FUNNY like i can picture them all sat together before a show, lucy just talking about the most recent book she’s been reading when julien chimes in with “oh yeah i just finished reading that, so good”

silence fills the entire room… phoebe and lucy share a look of horror

“where’s julien and what have you done with her??” phoebe would joke absolutely cackling with lucy about it

this is where the ‘bullying’ starts and never ends!

somehow they manage to convince julien to give them your name so now all of boygenius + katie gavin follow you on tiktok AND instagram

after seeing this you obviously have to make a tiktok about it. your favourite band members of all time just followed you back! you continue to rant and rave about it in your tiktok, also choosing to mention that you are seeing boygenius the following week and how crazyyy it is that they have followed you for a reason unbeknownst to you

this causes julien to go into panic mode. she was going to be performing to you NEXT WEEK

jump forward a week to the show, it’s going great! julien spent the whole day checking your instagram to see where you were at and when you’d be arriving. there’s barely and service in the venue, so unfortunately, her last update was a photo of you in the queue (she definitely took a screenshot because you look amazing)

so, they’re around 5 songs into the show, then she spots you. you’re standing only one row back from the barrier. julien can’t help but stare because you look beautiful

phoebe and lucy take notice of this but play it off cool. they share a menacing look before phoebe leans into the mic and says, “so, anyone got a crush right now?”

julien swears she nearly puked the second she heard that.

the conversation drags on for what feels like hours to julien when in reality it was only really around 5 minutes, majority of it being taken up by the crowd screaming in response to their several questions about crushes

it goes quiet for a second

“jb has a crush… she’s actually here tonight” the crowd starts SCREAMINGGG. people literally praying it’s them (so real)

julien has now sat on the floor of the stage with her face completely buried in her knees, lucy is still standing in front of her microphone dying with laughter over how embarrassed julien is getting.

little did she know though, it was about to get so much worse!!

lucy had dmed you the night before and basically just told you that julien had like changed her whole personality because of her crush on you. she also very sneakily organised for you to come backstage after the show and meet for the first time ever!

PLEASEEE imagine LUCY DACUS messaging you randomly and telling you that JULIEN MF BAKER HAS A CRUSH ON YOU.

lil time skip to that but imagine julien stood there fiddling with her fingers while she waits for you because she’s so nervous

you asking her the best books she’s read because of you<33

i can perfectly picture lucy and phoebe just stood there like ‘😁’ before having an “oh shit” moment and realising they’re intruding LMAO

your first date is to your favourite bookstore btw

I LOVE SOFT MASCS. (i am one)

a/n: this is my first blurb ever 😮 i’m so sorry i didn’t see this until now! hope you liked it :) again please feel free to send any other requests you have i love munagenius 🫶

[mysticficti0n]

hey can you do a short one for Tom- Tom n Y/n are about a month or in to their relationship and having one of their first sleep overs and when she falls asleep Tom can't help but look at her wondering how it go so lucky and he whispers he loves her, kisses her cheek and falls asleep

its a little stupid but- it sounds cute to me

Thank you 💕

sorry I just looked and this has been in my rq for a while- this is adorable, I'll make it as short as I can as I'm a bitch for huge pieces, enjoy

Lucky to have you-

Y/n walked up to the door of the Kaulitz house holding a sports bag full of clothes, make-up wipes, and the dvd of some random film Tom liked when they went shopping that after that trip she went back and brought it, she knocked on the door and within seconds it flew open with the smile of her boyfriend filling her eyes "hey Y/n!" she grinned back stepping in as he wrapped her in a hug, resting his head on hers. nobody else was home, his parents were away on a weekend trip and he'd made Bill stay over at Gustav's so they'd have nobody disturbing their first night together in his house "you look really nice babe" the girl blushed at his words looking down at her jeans and realised the jumper she'd shoved on was his

"oh I didn't even realise- sorry erm do you want this back?" she asked a small panic running through her but Tom only laughed and pulled her hands away from the hem of the jumper

"it looks better on you- keep it" she smiled squeezing his hand. it was already getting late- at least 9:30 when she finally got there after having a rushed shower, shaving ever inch of her body, bushing her teeth 100 times and spraying a whole bottle of perfume on her, the girl went to grab the bag off the floor she was swatted back by Tom who lifted it effortlessly and told the girl to follow him

She'd never actually been up stairs in his house let alone into his room, Y/n only ever herd it describe on the phone when she couldn't sleep and asked Tom just to talk so she could drift off, she walked in to see white walls plastered in different posters, a few of his band and some movie ones too and a picture of the two on his bedside table "god I look awful in that" the girl laughed grabbing the frame

"shut up- that was after our first date you looked beautiful- you still do" the boy complemented wrapping his arms around the girls stomach perching his head on her shoulder, rolling her eyes she turned to her boyfriend seeing a dopey smile spread across his face warming her heart

"I bought you something" she grinned walking to the bed where her bag had been put, she rummaged through before pulling out the dvd 'the orphan' and Toms face lit up

"when did you get this!" she laughed passing him the box "thank you!" he pulled the girl back into another hug, he wanted to press a kiss to her lips but he was worried it was still to early yet, they'd both decided to take it slow, the most that ever happened was cuddling "I got you something too- wait here" Y/n watched as Tom went quickly down the stairs and soon reappeared holding a bag and something behind his back

"ooh- whats this" she opened the pink bag to reveal chocolates and sweets, a bottle of her favourite fruit juice and a little package, she pulled the paper from it revealing a strip of polaroids they took in the bowling ally- their second date "oh Tom" she welled, before she could fully thank him he whipped out a Bunch of (your favourite flowers) from behind him "Oh my GOD!" she yelled looking at the petals, as she admired them but Tom couldn't stop from admiring her, the way her eyes lit up at the smallest thing and the smile she was once so nervous about showing "they are beautiful- thank you"

she pressed a small kiss to the boys cheek sending butterflies to his stomach and heart, a red tint coloured his cheeks but she was thankfully to distracted by his gifts to notice, he'd never been so smitten for a girl his whole life

The night carried on blissfully, the two got ready for bed, and sat under the covers Tom's arm around her and her head resting on his shoulder as they watched the movie, at parts that were it was scarier than others the girl coward to her boyfriend, hiding her eyes and laughing nervously into his shoulder asking when it was over, the two shared her chocolate and sweets, smiling as she missed her mouth and a skittle went flying across the room. The film ended and Tom went to turn off the tv but looked down to see Y/n fast asleep in his arm

Her hair laid perfectly around her head and eyelashes soft on her cheeks, small breaths left her lips that Tom so wanted. The boy ended up waiting for the tv to turn off itself before getting comfy next to Y/n, he shuffled down in the bed keeping his left arm as still as possible not to wake the girl who lay there in a world he'd never see. Though the room was dark he could make out her every feature, the way her nose was so perfect for her face and how her chest moved up and down with every breath, god he could watch her every day and never get bored

the moment he set eyes on her while he was walking past her on a day shopping with his brother he knew he had to speak to her, running to ask for her number and only a week after that they were sat on their first date sharing life stories and giggling like kids. that was 2 months ago but its always so fresh in his mind and he always reminded himself how he was the luckiest guy in the world. Toms eyes went back to Y/n's face and his heart melted more

"you don't understand how much you mean to me Y/n" he whispered, letting the hand under her play with the strands of hair that touched his fingers "I know this whole relationship is new but I never want to lose you- I've never been happier with someone and you are just perfect- everything about you is gorgeous" he toyed with his words knowing she'd never know he'd said this- Tom was bad with expressing his feelings, he did try but sometimes It doesn't come out right, thats how a lot of his past relationships ended, bad communication The girl stirred lightly, scrunching her face up and turning, her head getting comfy in the crook of his arm facing him, Tom didn't think he could be much more in love with a human "I would say this when you're awake but you know me I'm a idiot and I don't know how to say things without stuttering my words especially with you- I get so nervous around you, not because I'm scared but I want everything to be the best it can be you know- like you, and I just want to treat you like a princess and the day I can kiss you and show you physically how much i... I just- Y/n I love you, so much and-" he went to carry on but he saw the girls face change, a small smile across her lips and eyes seemed to be struggling to be shut "fu- you're awake aren't you?" her eyes flickered open and she immediately caught the gaze of her now red faced boyfriend who'd being spilling his heart for the last five minuets

"no-" she smiled up at him, no matter the situation her smile was infectious and he couldn't help but smile back at her, the girl sat up, Tom's arm now comfortably around her waist

"how much did you hear?" Tom asked cowardly, trying to avoid her look

"erm.. from you saying you'd say it to me if I was awake" he mentally slapped himself knowing he shouldn't have said it all, he tucked his lip into his teeth and sat silently "hey.. hey- whats wrong?" Y/n asked turning to him as he sulked

"i... I don't know" he shrugged "I should be able to say this all to you- without doing it when you're asleep, well- oh I don't know... but I meant It all, just annoyed at how I did it" a little laugh fell from his lips as he looked to Y/n, her eyes soft and understanding

"Tom you don't need to be annoyed- it was cute, and you really meant everything?" he nodded his head to the girl who only grinned more, her hand reached for his, thumb soothing his skin "I love you too" her voice was just more than a whisper but Tom felt like she'd screamed It to him, his head went blank only her words spinning in his mind "Tom?... are you okay?" her hand cupped his jaw brining him back into reality

"I want to kiss you really badly right now" the boy spoke without a thought, Y/n he looked up into his deep brown eyes and realised she felt the same way. Tom moved his face closer closing the distance, gently placing his lips on hers. He felt a rush of emotion wash over him as they shared their first kiss with each other. Y/n smiled to herself, feeling happy in the moment secretly she wanted since their second date. They kissed for what seemed like an eternity, enjoying the newness of it all. Tom wrapped his arms around her and held her close, not wanting the moment to end, she'd moved from being sat next to him to straddling his legs, hands holding his face. Eventually though, it had to come to an end and they slowly pulled away from each other. They looked into each other's eyes and both knew that there was something special. between them and that their lives would never be the same again. "I love you Y/n" he breathed

"I love you too Tom" the couple cuddled back into the sheets, holding each other tighter than before and Tom couldn't help but press kissed to her forehead until he drifted to sleep holding the one thing he loved most- his Y/n

[more-cardigan-than-woman]

Dead Robins Club

Summary: Jason and the boys are in a band and you're the bands social media manager.

Pairing: Photographer!Reader x Drummer!Jason Todd.

4.7k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, SMUT, Rock Band! AU, swearing, bondage with chains, teasing, choking, hair pulling, spanking, object insertion, man handling, pet names, dirty talk, probably something else very horny I forgot.

The music rings through the hall of the dark and atmospheric club, Tim's guitar solo brings the crowd forward, the patrons push the barricade to try and get closer to them. You step closer to the stage, keeping your security guard close as you pace behind the barricade hoping to find the perfect angle for the band's socials. Tim slides out in front of Damian who's belting the lyrics to their latest song so loud you’ll be surprised if he can talk after.

The crowd grows wild, people cheering and dancing behind you as you snap a photo of the two front men singing angrily into the microphone. 

"Oh my God!" A woman shouts behind you, "there he is. Fuck, he's so fine," you don't need to turn, knowing that she's staring at the now spotlighted drummer, sweat pouring off his head, the drumsticks twirling in his long fingers, those pretty blue eyes fixed on his drums. The chains on his pants rattling, his studded vest flapping with how fast his arms are moving, his curls plastered to his face with how much he’s sweating. 

"Looks like they're going to rush soon," a familiar voice whispers into your ear piece as you click the shutter on your camera. The 3 of them now in the shot, "head back, don't want another incident."

"Two seconds, Dickie. Get my margarita ready." You respond, turning to take a few pictures of the crowd and a few on your phone of the drummer, just for you, before you head backstage.

You meet Dick at the side of the stage, your drink already in his hand as he offers you a seat. "Don't know why they wouldn't let me book a bigger place," he says taking the seat next to you, "this place is packed and everyone on the internet is bummed they didn't get tickets."

"Makes it more exclusive," you shrug, moving your head so you can peer from behind the curtains at the flex of Jason's arms, "plus you know what they're like, they still think their small time."

You and Dick sit together, sometimes getting up to dance when the music compels you. But you're always watching him, the quick way his fingers twirl the drumsticks, how his legs flex as he beats the drums, his curls sweaty and sticking to his forehead. 

His eye catches yours for a moment and he smiles at you. Your heart starts to beat faster, your cheeks getting warm and your legs going gooey as you return the smile. Seeming to notice the effect he's having on you, he throws his favourite pair of drumsticks in the air before catching them and falling back into the song.

The crowd goes wild as the last song of the set comes to an end. Tim and Damian thank the crowd for coming out to see the last show The Dead Robins Club would be performing in this city, before the boys head to the side of the stage towards you. 

"Show us the pics!" Tim says coming up beside you and leaning over your shoulder, "did you get the mic toss?"

"I did and I got your power slide," you flick through your reel, showing him most of the pictures you took, all the ones on your official camera at least. The ones on your phone were, are, personal. And you don’t wanna feed Jason’s hordes of thirsty ass fans with the slightly provocative pictures you took of his hands and his pretty face.

"Shame, still none of Jay," he says, slapping his brother on the shoulder, "guess we know who the favourites are big guy" 

"A huh," Jason grunts as he passes you, "meet you guys at the hotel."

"You're leaving already?" Dick asks, trying to stop Jason as he starts to pack up his things, "the fans want autographs."

"Like Timmy said, I ain't no one's favourite." He pulls his bag over his shoulder, ignoring Dicks protests, he shoots you a look before he walks down towards where the cars are waiting.

You entertain the boys for an hour helping them get selfies with fans, before Dick announces that it's time to wrap up. 

"Wanna go grab a drink at the bar?" Dick asks as the boys head out to do their own things, "the night's still young and so are we."

"Nah I’m good. It's been a long day,” you yawn for affect, “Plus I gotta get all these,” you gesture to your camera, “edited and uploaded,” you give him a sympathetic look, “I think I'm just going to go to bed before we have to get back on the plane tomorrow, sorry Dickie"

"Suit yourself. I guess I'll just sit and drink,” he pouts at you, “alone."

"Sure you won't be alone for too long." You joke, giving him a quick hug and heading up the elevator.

Xx

You pull out the key card, slipping it into the lock and stepping into the room. A familiar face already waiting on your couch with a bottle of wine in hand, and his large combat boots kicked across the room, "took ya long enough."

"You know how they are," you shrug off your coat, "Dick still didn't wanna go to bed," you toe off your shoes and step towards him, "I can't just leave him."

"You can," Jason stands, grabbing you and pulling you down onto the couch on top of him.

“But he uses those puppy dog eyes on me and I feel bad.”

“That’s the only trick that guy knows,” he rolls his eyes, his arms wrapping around your waist, "just tell him you got a better offer."

"Did I though?"

"Cheeky," he kisses you like he's been waiting all day to get you alone, his hands already clinging to you and starting to peel your clothes away, "I saw you watching me, sweetheart," he finally frees your shirt from your pants and pulls it over your head.

“I wouldn’t, didn’t you hear the boys,” you pull his vest from his back, “No pictures of you.”

"There's always a way for me to check," he smirks into your kiss, his fingers slipping down to your ass, then reaching into your back pocket for your phone and dangling it in front of your face.

“Won’t find anything in there.” you lie, unconvincingly.

“You wouldn’t be lying to me, would you?” he raises his eyebrow at you.

“No,” you grab for it, but he pulls his arm up higher. You jump, and he drops it behind the couch, giving you a knowing look.

“That's what I thought,” his fingers toy with the button on your jeans, “What else are you lying to me about?” he grabs at the band, pulling them down to your hips, "Is my pussy wet for me?"

"I-"

"You wouldn't lie to me would you?" He kisses across your jawline as his fingers sink into your panties, stopping at your panty line, "no, not you. My good girl wouldn't lie to me," his fingers slip down lower meeting with the seeping spot in your panties, "tell me Kitten," he leans back meeting your eyes, "if you got such a better offer, why are you here with me with suck a soaking wet pussy?"

"Coincidence?" You joke, laughing as he lifts you up and your pants fall to the floor.

"Like fuck is it a coincidence," he throw you over his shoulder, "you bloody liar," he slaps you on the ass, "I know how watching me play affects you," he walks, his bicep just far enough away form your pussy go tease you, “bet you’ve got lots of good shots on your phone, don’t you?”

“Nope,” you giggle, your arms attempting to reach his ass, but his torso is so fucking long and thick.

“You're going to pay for that." he smacks you again, his fingers kneading at the tender flesh of your ass.

"Oh, no. How awful!" You start to squirm as he kicks the door to the bedroom open and drops you on the bed.

"First the lying and now the attitude," he tuts as he peels off his black t-shirt, "you poor thing," he unclips the chain from his pants, "You really need some sense fucked into you," he grabs at your hands slinking the chain around them and locking them together behind the bed head, "don't you?" Jason’s soft lips brush over yours.

"Yes."

"Good girl. Now, how should I punish you?" He thinks aloud, watching as you start to squirm when he pulls back from you. His studded belt releases his tight black jeans, "What?" He laughs as your eyes fixate on the way his huge hand is wrapping around his cock, "Do you like watching me play with myself?" He licks his lips, his teeth sinking in when he notices your hips gyrating into the air, "do you need some attention, Sweetheart?" 

'Please."

"But you haven't been good," he kneels on to the ground and you feel something cool touch your leg, the metal of the chains biting into your wrists as you strain to get free, "maybe I should coat my sticks on your cum," the cool wood glides up your thigh before slapping down onto your clit, "at our next show I'll be able to smell you on them," his eyes lock with yours, "wouldn't that be a nice treat for me, Kitten?"

"Yes, please," you try to move, but he just taps the drum stick onto your clit again, "that'd be so hot."

"Wouldn't it just," the tip of the drumstick slips down from your clit, dipping into you and you can't help the way your back arches into it, "so needy for me, aren't you Kitten?" The drumstick goes deeper, angling it up so it sweeps right over your g spot. Jasons free hand rests on your stomach as his thumb rubbing into your clit in just the way you like as he thrusts the stick into you. His eyes torn between watching your face and watching his favourite thing disappearing into his favourite person.

"Jason.”

"Does my girl need more?" He teases you, "need something bigger?"

"I do.”

"Show me," he chuckles, pulling the drumsticks from you with a pop and licking along its length, moaning at the taste of you on his tongue. His face forlorn, torn between wanting to taste you and how bad he wants to fuck you, "show me where you want me Kitten?"

You whine, your hands jangling against the chains, tugging at them as you glare at him.

"Oh, you can't? You poor thing," his cock slaps on top of your pussy, "keep squirming for me  Kitten." He leans over your body, his lips finally meeting yours, "I love when you're needy for me like this. So desperate," his hand grips your face, "it's pathetic."

You try to pull your face from his grasp, but he holds you still. Your eyes start to wander until his nails dig into your cheeks, "keep those pretty eyes on me," you feel his cock slip back, the huge head pushing, teasing at your core, "you ready?" His head circles you, "nod or shake your head for me, Kitten. I know words are hard for you when you're like this."

You nod, your legs wrapping around Jason's thick thighs. Trying so hard to pull him closer, even if you know it's useless.

"Good girl. I can feel your legs tightening on me," he releases your face, his hand softly brushing your cheek where you imagine his claw marks are, "pull me in."

You tighten your legs even more, Jason moves closer, his cock pushing up against you until it starts to spread you, stretching you out as he sinks deeper and deeper inside you. You can’t help the moans that escape your lips as your pussy becomes so fucking full you think your brain might explode. “Breathe,” his fingers pull your bottom lip from your teeth, “Sweetheart, take a breath for me,” he starts to withdraw himself, not really restrained by the grip of your legs, “Kitten,” you suck in a breath, the overwhelming fullness turning your brain off for a second there.

“I’m breathing,” you reassure him, trying to pull your hands from the chains, “Please don’t go.”

“Do you want me to unchain you?” his eyes are so soft, one hand still on your face while the other traces little hearts into your thigh, “Is it too much?”

“I’m good, now. I just needed a minute,” you reassure him, “I promise, it’s just been-”

“A while, yeah I know.”

“Can we talk about it after, Jay?” you try to move, but he’s so heavy on top of you, “Because right now, I’d really like you to move.”

“Needy,” his fingers tighten on your thigh, pushing it back up towards your chest, “Impatient,” his soft caress on your cheek stops as his hand slips around your throat, “My good Kitten.” He starts to thrust, his hips meeting yours with every inwards motion. His pelvis grinding into your clit when he leans down to capture your lips with his. “I missed this,” he moans into your mouth, his fingers tightening in your hair while your legs cling to him.

“Missed you.”

“I’m right here, always.”

“Not close enough,” you thrust back up, “Closer, please.”

“Never been close enough to you,” Jason mewls, “You’re so fucking warm, Kitten.”

“Fuckin hot when that spotlight hits you.” you feel your pussy clench down on him when he smirks down at you.

“Not as beautiful as you do, shrouded in the dark of the clubs,” he brushes the hair from your face, smoothing it back behind your ear. The tingle tickles, jolting your body up and you feel his cock brush over your g spot.

“Jay, right there-” you moan into his ear, “Please don’t stop.”

“I’m not stopping until you cum on me,” his hand reaches up, releasing your hands from the chains with a snap of his fingers, “But I need your hands on me.”

Your wrists ache, but your hands quickly find their place in his hair, tugging his face closer to yours, kissing him deeper and sinking your teeth into his lip. With one hand in his hair, you slip the other down to his shoulder, bringing his chest flush with yours. The sweat of your bodies mingling as you both moan into the kiss. 

Your eyes open when he pulls back from you, his stubble brushing against your cheek, his moans filling your ears, “You’re fucking gripping me so tight, Kitten. You getting close?” he bites down on your neck, “I know you are.”

“Yes, I’m so close, Jay.” the animalistic sound that seems to reverberate from his throat is what sends you over the edge, the primal way he turns from somewhat sensual to fucking insane is something else. You can’t stop cumming, his cock somehow getting harder and deeper within you with every thrust and that sound just won’t stop. You almost question whether it's you making that noise, but when he starts to chant your name in your ear and you know he’s close.

“Jason.” you whisper hoarsely as your second round of pleasure starts to build inside you, you feel his cock throb, “Jason,” it’s twitching inside you, bouncing off your insides and making a smoothie out of them, “Jason.”

“Fuck me, Kitten,” his nails dig into your, his lips reaching for yours to quiet the scream he lets out into your mouth. Jasons cum paints your insides, but he doesn’t stop fucking you, “I don’t want this to end,” he pants between cries of pleasure, “I want to fuck you forever, to be inside you always.”

You don’t even realise you’re cumming again until your legs start to cramp and your mind goes numb, the thickness of Jason's cock slowly receding from you and his fingers replacing it. Gently gliding up and down as you twitch out the last of your orgasm. “You look beautiful like this. Carefree and relaxed.” he whispers, placing a kiss on your forehead before falling down beside you and pulling you under his arm. “Take a deep breath.”

You do, snuggling into his side as you try to match his breathing. Your leg wrapping over his to try and leech some of his warmth. “I can breathe on my own, you know.”

“Yeah, but I know I take your breath away with my dashing looks.”

“True,” you rest your chin on his chest, looking up at him, “You’re very pretty,” you bouncing one of his curls, the white one, it’s your favourite.

“Not as pretty as you, Kitten,” he takes your hand. Holding it in his, his thumb grazing over your wrists, “Are your wrists ok?”

“They’re fine, a bit tender.”

“I’ll rub some of that coconut cream on them in a sec,” he gives them each a small kiss, “Just wanna cuddle you a bit longer.”

“I missed this,” you sigh, putting your arm over him and pulling yourself up so you're laid out flat on top of him, “tour buses suck. Maybe we should run away?”

“I wish, could you imagine. Dick would have a fucking heart attack. But I get what you mean and the next few weeks aren’t going to be any better.”

“We’ll have to get better at sneaking around.”

“You will.” he says, like he doesn't, “You think I’m the only one who knows you take pictures of me on your phone to jerk off to?”

“What?” you try to sit up in alarm only for Jason's arm to hold you close.

“Don’t worry about it, but Kitten,” he whispers, bringing your lips down to his, “tour buses are small, maybe next time, don’t moan my name in the middle of the night.”

Taglist: did I forget you? let me know in your most sarcastic typeface

@littleredwing89 @ilikw @bubbles-incorrect-yb @megumisbabymomma @nutmeg030 @gone-batty-fics

@lovelyrissa

Do you want to be on the everything Jason taglist? firstly, why? and nextly, let me know.

[joonipertree]

Warmer Impulses

Quick bonten!Mikey drabble for his birthday!

The apartment you shared with Mikey was still, the only light being from the candle flames you lit and the only sound being your soft singing.

"Happy birthday, dear Jiro~"

He stared at the chocolate cake with tired eyes, eyebags deeper in the shadows and the only light in his pupils being the reflection of the candle. You hoped that a tiny bit of it was his own, that he felt warmth inside even if it was a tiny flicker.

Mikey blew out the candle at your insistance, sounding more like a heavy sigh. But it went out and you clapped gently with a whispered 'yay'.

"It's my first time making cake. I hope it turned out okay." You mumbled, fidgeting as you cut him a slice.

"You made it?" The sound was more of a mumble and you nodded, biting your lip so your nervousness wouldn't show.

"I just....wanted to show you that I love you."

"I don't deserve any of this." Mikey's voice was flat, no emotion making way for vulnerability. But you knew that inside, he held a self hatred you could never take away completely.

"You are the best thing to happen to me, Sano Manjiro." Your voice was stern and left no room for argument. "I didn't make a cake for you because you mean nothing to me. I made it because your life is worth celebrating."

Mikey looked away, his eyes brimming with unshed tears that glittered in the firelight. A very rare sight.

"And.... I have a present for you too."

You held out a blue textured gift bag that he hesitantly took. Mikey's nimble hands cradled it for a long moment, his finger nails bitten and jagged. His hands still looked comforting and gentle to you.

Mikey pulled out a silver band, a blue gem engraved into it. It gleamed as he turned it around, breath stuttering as it hit him what it meant.

"I know, I know you'll never consider me as a partner. I know that you barely keep me around because you're scared to get too close. I wasn't a part of your life when you were at your worst but....I really hope I made these last three years a bit more bearable.

Thank you for letting me hang around you and for saving me. Thank you for stopping me from jumping. I know it was just something you did on impulse but, it really does make you kind. No matter what, Manjiro. You will be kind in my eyes."

A long pause followed and you stopped breathing. Your romantic feelings for Mikey were obvious and even in his little ways, you felt as though he loved you back. But you gave him a ring.

God, you were an idiot.

"Impulse." Manjiro whispered.

You looked up at his wide shining eyes, so full of life that it seemed more like a mirage. He kept staring at the ring, putting it on his left ring finger. A perfect fit. Your body erupted in flames, heart racing because oh god.

"I didn't even think about it. It was...an impulse. I couldn't...stay away. Reckless of me, dangerous for you but....impulsive. Honest."

Manjiro was quick to grab your hand and pull you forward, lips crashing against your for the first time ever. It was his own first kiss, something done in such fervor that it was like he was making up for lost time. You could barely keep up as tears fell down your cheeks, kissing him to your hearts content. It felt good, he felt warm.

When he pulled back, you saw that his tears had mingled with your own and he had a smile on his face. A genuine one and it made you fall for him more.

"How did you do that? Who are you?"

You giggled, "Please tell me I didn't talk your ear off for the last three years for you to not know my name."

"The sun." He whispered. And you felt your cheeks warm.

"In another life, I hope we get married." Manjiro made a wish, hoping the universe granted it despite the delay.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and held on tight.

"In another life, I'll love you all the same."

A/N: I'm sorry it sucked but I feel unwell and wanted to write something for my favourite boy! Might write something better for him later on. I know it's rushed. Apologies.

[valiantroeagleangel]

Goldilocks.

Will Ramos x female reader.

Phone sex, masturbation, lingerie, mention of alcohol.

From the anon request: "Oh.my.god. How about “mildly tipsy reader x currently on tour Will”? She FaceTime’s him after a few glasses of wine, she’s feeling good, feeling sexy, and she just wants to show her man all the pretty new lingeries she now owns. Poor, needy boy Will is intrigued and also very turned on, and what happens from now on is up to you, my favorite writer 😉."

They called me their favourite writer and now I have a god complex, thank you. I hope you'll like it as much as I do. Love you very much. 🫶

Mama's tag list: @circle-with-me @malice-ov-mercy @darkhallcorner @loeytuan98 @witchyweeb34 @lyschko666 @emzandthevoid

"Will." You called from the kitchen, pouring another glass of wine when you noticed the empty bottle. "Wiiiiiiilllllllllll."

You called again but got no response.

Right. Will wasn't home, he was on tour with his band and you were home alone for the upcoming weeks.

Life was unfair, but maybe that was what your life was meant to be. You, hot and alone in your apartment while Will travelled the earth. Like a princess trapped in a tower waiting for the return of her prince. What a prince he was. He looked more like Goldilocks than Flynn Rider but you could work with it I guess. I mean, you were dating the dude so yeah Goldilocks would have to work.

Still, your prince charming wasn't home and that was a shame. The bottle was empty, almost like your heart, like a void of loneliness.

But thanks God created technology and Facetime calls because it allowed you to overcome your boredom. It's very determined that you decided to take your phone to Facetime Will. A little drunk and very clumsy you tried to put the phone against the bottle to use it as a stand but that one fell and your phone followed quickly. Unfortunately, it was at that very moment that Will decided to pick up, the camera of the phone facing the ceiling.

"Hey love? Is everything alright?"

"Yeah." You bent over the phone, out of breath for no reason, your hair falling over the screen. "Everything is fine, just dropped my phone. Sorry."

Without measuring your strength you put the phone back on the table, stalling it -successfully this time- against the bottle.

"Hello there." Will smiled, happy to see your face and not the grey ceiling of your home.

"Hey, hi. I'm sorry." Hastingly you tried to place your hair behind your ear to style your cut. "Yeah, hi."

You heard him chuckle on the other side of the screen as he watched you getting ready in the little caller interface.

"You already said that three times. Did you call to talk about all the different ways to greet someone? If so I have a good one: Rise and shine sunshine. What about that, huh?"

He continued his small talk with himself until you focused on him again, your eyes completely blown as your heart raced with happiness just by seeing him.

"Oh my god Will stop." You couldn't restrain your smile anymore as you watched him ramble about stupid things until you won his attention back. "Hey."

"Hello, my dear. Nice to see you again."

Your mind buzzing you just stared at him through the phone, admiring his pretty eyes and his golden locks. What was I saying? Goldilocks, hm?

And just like that the two of you chatted for a bit. It was probably the wine talking but it made you very flirty and bold. Will told you about the tour and you told him about your day at work. Just the usual chit-chat the two of you would have when you found each other in the evening. This time it was just covered in dirty and cheesy jokes. At some point, you told him about your shopping of the day, very excited to show him your new purchases.

Standing up, you missed to spill the bottle and make your phone fall again in the movement. But once on your feet, you spun for him, showing him the pretty black dress you got and how well it was fitting you. Maybe it was also the dress that made you flirty because you were feeling hot as hell in this.

Will clapped his hands in admiration, he was so infatuated with you that he just loved listening to you talk about random stuff that was making you happy. You were so pretty as your eyes got this little light in them that was everything to him. And it would be a lie to say that he did not like this dress on you. Especially the way it was falling just behind your ass. If only you arched a little for him he would be able to see your underwear. Oh god yes, he would love that.

"[...] and that's why I bought it. What do you think, hm? He didn't give you an answer. "Will? Are you even listening?"

"Hm? Yes of course!"

No.

He was lurking at your ass, lurking at the front of your dress and how it was right under your pussy. Fuck. This dress was so short it should be illegal. You arched a brow and leaned over the table to approach the phone, showing him generously your cleavage. Of course, this dress had a cleavage too. Geez life was really unfair.

"And what was I saying?"

You asked and a deafening silence settled between the two of you until Will finally admitted his defeat.

"Alright, I have no fucking idea. I was trying to look at your underwear."

You faked a surprised scoff as you sat down on the chair. Will might not have been drunk but he was honest for sure. Maybe it was his dick talking, maybe it was the loneliness he was feeling or how horny he was as the end of the tour approached but he didn't even try to hide it to make a good impression. You were drunk and hitting on him, he would be dumb to not play along. He was intrigued to see how far this could go.

You didn't know how to respond to his last words but an idea flashed through your mind. In haste, you stood up and grabbed your phone as you headed toward your bedroom.

"Ow- Where are we going?" Will's voice was distorted through the call. Your phone in hand you showed him the floor without caring about the camera. "Are you going to lock me down? You know you can just end the call if you don't want to talk to me. No need to cage me."

He joked but it made you think about the princess and tower story you imagined before and you liked it. As if Will was the princess.

When you finally slowed down you put your phone on the nightstand, facing it with your entire body. It was your moment. He gave you a chance and you were definitely taking it.

"Sooooo?" He asked when he saw you move to the pantry behind you.

"You want to see underwear? I'll show you underwear."

Opening the cabinet you got out a box with a full set of lingerie that you got earlier. You wanted to surprise him with it when the tour would be over but this moment might also be a good one. You could just tease him a little. That would be great, to let him see but not touch because he was so far away. What a good punishment it was.

"What's in the box?"

Will didn't know how he should react to this. He was excited, sure he was horny but he also dreaded what was going to happen. You were so unpredictable sometimes. He liked that about you but in moments like these it freaked him more than anything else.

"It was meant to be a surprise for when you get back home. But it will cause no harm to show you right now."

As you opened the box Will's expression started to change, passing from quite intrigued to utterly shocked.

"Causing no harm? Are you kidding me? I almost had a heart attack."

A long silence settled once again between the two of you. Both of your minds racing to what was going to occur next. It was disjointed and you scattered in all directions. You were lonely and getting drunk unleashed your horniness. You didn't know why, probably just the alcohol but it was getting messy in your head.

You sat on the bed, turning the phone so you could still face it.

"I feel alone Will. I feel so fucking alone when you are not here." The atmosphere thickened and he looked at you with dark eyes, making your cheeks heat. "You're not here, you're never here."

"I know, I'm sorry that it has to be like this baby." His voice cracked. He really was sorry but seeing you sitting on that bed, lingerie in your hands and your short dress rolling up your thighs reduced his guilt. Because you were so hot. He just wanted to see more, to see your dress reach your hips, to see your panties and breasts.

Another silence took place before you switched on the bed, shortly spreading your legs to allow your dress to go higher on your body.

"You want to see, don't you?" You asked as you leaned on your arms, balancing your body to highlight your chest.

"Yes, please." He breathed out without taking his eyes off the screen.

You had bought another set, you were wearing it. How convenient it was. You didn't even have to move, you could just undress here in front of the camera and Will would have to sit and take it.

Slowly you moved back on the mattress, spreading your legs even more to let him peak on the lace of your underwear. Your both legs bent making your dress roll to your belly, stripping your lower half from any kind of clothing.

"Shit, baby." Will cursed and moved closer to his phone as if it was possible. "Can you touch it? It seems so fucking soft."

You obeyed him and slowly brushed your fingers against your intimacy, the fabric getting wetter and wetter every second.

"It is soft." You told him and he groaned. "And it's wet, it's so fucking wet, Will."

You both swallowed hard while your fingers kept caressing your entrance. After that things escalated quickly.

"Take the dress off." He commanded and you did nothing but listen to his demand.

Straightening yourself you got your dress over your head, throwing it next to you. Will's eyes crossed as he saw the pattern of your bra, perfectly matching your panties.

"Let's be clear. You're not taking that off." His voice was so rasp and firm that it made you clench over nothing.

"I won't." On the other hand, yours was breaking, your mind already spinning from the alcohol and your arousal.

"Good girl." Will let these words escape him like it was the most natural thing to say but the effect it had on you was anything but natural. You let out some kind of pathetic whimper, your pussy clenching over nothing again as you kept staring at him through the screen.

"Touch yourself." He asked in a sombre tone. "Caress these breasts for me." He paused and watched your hand slip under your bra. "But don't you dare push it off."

Once again you obeyed him, one hand between your legs and the other up on your chest you started to gently play with yourself. As your breath accelerated and your eyes closed, Will's voice guided you through it.

"Yes, just like that."; "You're doing so good for me."; "Give this pussy what it wants, love."; "Finger fuck yourself for me."

Every single one of his words pushed you closer to the edge. You were getting so aroused that you started to moan loudly without realising it. Still completely focused on Will's voice and breathing, one of your hands slid into your panties, brushing over your clit before reaching your slit.

"Will." You sighed, calling him as you pushed your fingers in yourself. "Shit Will, it feels so fucking good."

Your voice was trembling as your fingers worked inside of you, hitting the sweet spot that had you screaming his name out.

"Fuck, you're so hot like that." You heard him unbuckle his belt as he said those words and you dared to open your eyes back to look at him. "'Making me so hard."

His cheeks were red, his breathing erratic and he was working rapidly to take his jeans and underwear off. His dilated pupils didn't leave you as he started to pump himself, ecstasy in his chest.

Your orgasm drew closer and closer to the point that the pleasure made your arched back, your hips rocking against your hand to chase your release. Your eyes closed back and you bit your lower lips to restrain your moans. On the other side, Will didn't even try to hide his groans and curses. He just kept swearing as he admired the way your body bent over the mattress, your lingerie wet and out of place.

Will loved the fact that you listened to him, that you kept the pieces on even if it was more inconvenient than everything else. But what could have he done? The colour of the set was so pretty on your skin, contrasting perfectly but yet complementing you totally. At this very moment, he could have died to be allowed to put his lips on you, on your skin, to have his fingers caressing the wet fabric of your panties and to have his mouth cover one of your nipples.

"Let me see you come, please." He begged as if it was not something that was going to happen from the beginning but you still let it go, too far gone in your own pleasure.

"If only you were here." You pleaded, the hand that you had on your chest leaving it to come to draw circles on your clit as you heard a shaky sound escape him.

"Yeah, if only I was here." He paused, closing his eyes violently as his thumb caressed his tip. "Shit baby. I would eat you out like I never did. I want to drown in your lingerie. Fuck- I'll suffocate in your scent."

The idea of him lapping you like his life depended on it was enough. Your climax hit you with a strength you barely knew was possible. It was so good that you kept your movements for seconds later, fucking yourself longer than you should have just to keep feeling this rapture.

Will delight himself with this image of you, his own orgasm washing over him quickly as he called your name again and again, like a supplication, like you could deliver him.

Strained you picked up your phone and fell out on the bed, lying down completely on the cover.

"Will I-" You didn't even have finished your sentence when you noticed in which state he was. His hair had gone in all directions, and he was a complete mess, maybe worse than you. His gaze was still full of lust like he hadn't had enough, like it couldn't be enough.

"I miss you." He sighed his face dropping in his hands.

"Do you miss me or do you miss fucking me, hm?" You were only teasing him but his timing was terrible as always.

"Both?" He dared to look up at you, a grin settling on his lips.

"Of course you do." Your eyes rolled back and you chuckled, Will's smile not leaving him.

You both laughed, looking at each other with hooded eyes as fatigue won over you. You couldn't wait to see him again, phone calls weren't enough but at least it was better than nothing. "I miss you too Will." You admitted and his smile turned into a more tender one.

"I know baby. I'll buy you plenty of lingerie when I'll be home so that next time you'll have new clothes to fuck yourself in."

You "pfft" him, imagining him with billions of lingerie bags just because he liked watching you and you found that idea kind of sweet. In the end, Will may not be here physically but he was always making sure to remind you how he was here emotionally. You were like a princess trapped in a tower but you were not alone. Goldilocks was here for you.

[ktsumu]

three ticks and i’m home.

pairing: dainsleif x fem!reader, 4.2k words

summary: gods are never innocent; neither are godless men.

(or: a timeline of dainsleif's grief through the life of his broken watch, one that ticks backwards and the one you fixed, first.)

note: someone tell me to stop reading his lore and i will. beware for plot holes because genshin is nuts. crossposted to ao3 also!

content: major character death, destruction, angst, talk of children, you're a clocksmith, angst with like a sprinkle of fluff in one scene, a lot of worldbuilding regarding khaenri'ah + the cataclysm

Five years before.

Dainsleif is a serious guy.

He needs to be — it’s a must-have quality for a Commander. He smiles at children that look up to him, doesn’t leave bars with women who want to. His schedule is so tight that some say it wears a corset, or at least his friends do. He takes his job with the pride of a boy who grew up watching the soldiers march, a boy who now leads them.

Dainsleif runs a tight schedule.

That is, until his watch breaks, and disorder comes soon after.

He complains in the bunks for twenty minutes that night about the chaos his time regulates until one of his friends recommends an old friend, a clocksmith in the heart of the city. 

( “Get a digital one while you’re there. That thing’s ancient.”

“People are allowed to like old things, Halfdan.”

“Not things that break like that.” )

Dainsleif visits you the next day, setting the metal watch on your counter with his arms crossed. His brows tug together and his expression is more wary than it is expectant.

“Can you fix it?” he asks.

You look it over, rubbing your thumb over rust. “Who’s it from?”

“Can you fix it?”

You set the watch back down, looking back up at him with a little grin.

“For a price, Commander.”

Dainsleif swallows, rolling his shoulders back and digging out his wallet.

It takes you four hours to fix his ancient watch, and you even get the rust off of the band for him. You clasp it back around his wrist and tell him to get back to work when he tries to thank you, standing around for way too long. When he leaves, you set aside and refund his money.

15 years since the Cataclysm

“What do you mean you can’t fix it?”

“They call us horologists, sir. Not magicians.”

Dainsleif huffs, leaning on the counter and shaking his head. “My friend recommended you,” he says, pleads. “He said you can fix anything. Even this. Did you try?”

“I—”

“Try.”

The watchmaker tilts his head, an unsure look on his face. Dainslef’s shoulders fall. “Please,” he whispers. “Try.”

The man purses his lips, sighing, and extends a hand. His fingers wriggle.

“For a price.”

Dainsleif takes out his wallet and pays him double what he paid you — the watch takes four days to fix, and he doesn’t remove the rust. Dainsleif collects it with haste.

“Sorry, couldn’t change the time,” he tells his client. “That thing will always run backwards.”

Dainsleif nods. “Oh.”

Four.

Your favourite day is Sunday.

Dainsleif allows himself one day to relax, one day that he’s mandated, and what day other than a day reserved for a god you never had would be a better fit? On Sundays, you stay in bed, under your linen sheets and against his chest. Neither of you move until absolutely necessary; sometimes hours, sometimes less.

“Breakfast soon?” he asks. 

“I thought maybe a little while longer.”

“That’s fine.”

“Ugh, I love it when you agree with me,” you tease, giggling when he scoffs. He agrees with you most of the time; you’re reasonable people. 

Dainsleif sighs, humming when you curl further into his side. He's a serious guy, but that doesn’t count on Sundays. Not during your beautiful, godless mornings. He raises an eyebrow at the vase on your dresser, “Those are new.”

“Hm?”

“Inteyvats,” he comments, “the flowers.”

“Is it so wrong of me to show some nationalism, Dain?”

He grins, shaking his head as you laugh. You laugh and it shakes your shoulders. You laugh and it shakes his chest. 

“I just didn’t know you liked them,” he says, “that’s all.”

You settle, humming against the cotton of his shirt. “I love them.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “Maybe someday, we’ll have someone to use their name.”

He thinks for a moment, “A daughter?”

You tilt your head back so you can see him, to the point where it aches to hold yourself up like that. “Would that be so bad?”

Dainsleif thinks for a moment — you and a daughter. “No,” he says, “not at all.”

“That’s down the road, anyway,” you laugh. “You know what isn’t?”

“What?”

“Our anniversary,” you say, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “How do you want to celebrate it?”

Dainsleif thinks about your one year anniversary, lying in bed with you on a Sunday, talking about a family and the flower you’ll start it with. He thinks about how content he would be if you did nothing at all but this; lie against his side and kiss his jaw, talk about the daughter he hopes will look just like you. He doesn’t think he could ask for anything more.

“This is okay.”

“Mm, alright,” you say, your smile against his collarbone. “I love you.”

Dainsleif tilts his head so you can stay where you are. “I love you," he echoes, "I love how you speak our language.”

“Oh? What’s so special about it?”

He smiles to himself.

“Tell me you love me again.”

Fifty years since

The watch breaks again on what would’ve been your seventy-fifth birthday.

The smith Dainsleif found this time looks over the stuttering clock hands, the numbers written in something unintelligible to him. He tosses it in his hand, a curious look on his face. “Old watch, no?”

“Very. Could you restore it?”

“By ‘restore’ you mean…”

“Fix it to tell time,” he clarifies. “And to still tick backwards.”

The clocksmith looks up with curious eyes, one of his eyebrows quirking up. “You want me to fix it ... to be broken?”

“If you can.” 

He hesitates. “I’ll do my best.”

Dainsleif lets him swivel around in his chair, flicking a light on over his desk as he hunches over. The shop he operates out of is personal, messy — never Dainsleif’s style, but he can admit it is quaint. Quilts and sewn tapestries line the walls, textbooks from the Akademiya line a bookcase filled with papers; a frame hangs on the wall.

A painting of a flower; inteyvat.

“Excuse me,” Dainsleif coughs, “I can’t help but notice your painting.”

“Hm? Oh, the flower.”

“Yes — you know where it’s from?”

The smith hums a laugh, nodding. “Khaenri’ah hasn’t been gone long enough to forget it.”

Dainsleif swallows. “I was just surprised to see it, is all.”

“Most are,” he replies, his eyes not leaving the watch he works on. He rummages through his drawer for tweezers. “It was a gift for my daughter.”

“Your daughter?”

“Yes,” he replies, happily. “We named her after them.”

Dainsleif takes a deep breath.

Three.

When Dainsleif comes home from his shift, you’re sitting at the table with your chin resting in your hands.

“Good evening,” he greets, shrugging off his jacket and kicking off his boots. He doesn’t seem to notice that you don’t reply in the twenty or so seconds it takes to writhe out of his uniform, or that you don’t bother to even look in his direction at all. The only time he realizes that something in the room has shifted is when you move away from his kiss. “Hello?”

You grit your teeth.

Dainsleif crosses his arms, slowly rounding the table to face you from across it. “What is it?”

You look up at him, finally. “Where’s my blueprint, Dain?”

He blinks. “I — your what?”

“Don’t act dumb,” you say with a pointed finger, your head shaking. Your body might as well be, too. “My analog blueprints, digital ones — they’re all gone and guess who is the only one I trusted enough to tell?”

He opens his mouth, closes it. “It wasn’t me,”

“Who else was it, then?” you shout, standing up to try and match his height. “Who? Tell me, Dainsleif, who else could it have been?”

He swallows, pulling one of your dining table chairs out. It squeals against the floor like it hates him just as much as you do. “Sit, please.”

“You know what I think, Dain?”

“Sit down, please.”

“I think you stole them for the factories you Guards don’t tell anyone about,” you whisper, “the metal soldiers you make.”

“They’re field tillers,”

“Field tillers don’t have missiles in their chest,” you spit. The air thickens as you shake your head.

He gestures to the seat you once sat in, but you don’t bite. Not that easily, not ever.

“Lie to me again and I’m gone for good.”

Dainsleif swallows again, folding his hands and looking down at them. You’re scorned and he’s holding the heat; there is no explanation he can offer that makes this look any bit okay to either of you. He’s dug his grave — now, he lies in it, shovel at his side.

“Tell me,” you plead, “tell me what you’re making an army for.”

Dainsleif shakes his head.

“Gods don’t like godless men,” he says, so low you hardly hear him. So simple, like he's being reasonable.

You shake your own. “Godless men don’t even like themselves.”

His eyes meet yours.

“I want my designs back,” you tell him, more desperate than you let on. “Every page, every scribble, everything. And I don’t want anything made with them.”

Dainsleif takes a deep breath, his eyes averting themselves back down to the table. He doesn’t need to see your face anymore — not when he knows you’ll hate him once he tells you.

“You can’t.”

“You—”

“I can’t,” he says. “It’s too late.”

150 years since

“Wow, this watch is beat.”

“It is — can you fix it?”

This one is in Fontaine, the clocksmith is — she’s eclectic, a little disorganized like you were, with a scary love for crushed velvet by the look of her shop. There’s metal dust everywhere and things that don’t belong to clocks or watches, but someone swore up and down she knows her stuff. Knows it well, too. 

She looks back up at Dainsleif with a wink. “Got Mora?”

He tosses a pouch on the counter. “Anything you need.”

He doesn’t bother watching what she takes from it, instead opting to turn and watch the bustling streets outside. He’s fond of Fontaine, it’s full of life and running water — every shop is full from wall to wall.

The girl he’s trusting to fix his watch is trying to speak to him, but he’s not listening; all he can see is the eye of a Ruin Guard that hangs in the window of a pawn shop across the street; marked down to half value, less if you trade-in for credit. Dainsleif thinks about the lives those parts were worth almost two centuries ago. 

No one in Khaenri’ah was ever worth just a couple hundred coins. 

Two.

Taverns in Khaenri’ah have so many songs that they fill walls with the lyrics.

They are loud and they are lively — you know something’s wrong when you catch one quiet and half-empty. The windows all made of stained glass, rustic to contrast the world around them; taverns in Khaenri’ah are like a world of their own. In them, people dance like such.

You dance that way, yourself. Not with him, but it’s nice to watch you spin again.

Dainsleif watches you clutch someone’s shoulder; he doesn’t know who he is but he’s wearing his uniform, someone he leads. He thinks he remembers you saying that you made an exception for him — you don’t date ‘snobs from the Royal Guard.’

(Dainsleif has hope that, maybe, you still remember your pact and, maybe, you try to keep it now.)

The wooden floors groan beneath stomping feet and gliding boots, the room a whirlwind of exhausted workers and the select few from the Guard that deem little places like this worthy of their presence. 

He catches your eye for a second, only one, but your smile fades quick enough for your dancing partner to whisk you around again. A blur of your dress, and then, you’re grinning again.

Halfdan sets a drink down on the bar in front of him, kicking out the stool beside Dainsleif and sitting down. He follows his commander’s eyes and they land on you; they typically do on Friday nights.

“It’s alright,” Halfdan says, with a heavy-handed pat on his back. “Everyone has the one that got away.”

Dainsleif shakes his head, you laugh against his knight’s chest. “It’s different.”

“How so?”

“It does not matter, now, does it?”

“Mm, and yet, you’re still watching her.”

Dainsleif sips on the drink that was brought to him, turning to face the bar instead. Halfdan purses his lips, drumming his fingers on the table.

“You know,” Halfdan says, “I worry about the … field tillers.”

Dainsleif nods. “They’ll work.”

“Godless doesn’t mean we need to create our own, Captain,”

“You don’t know the things that I do,” Dainsleif cuts, harsh but not mean. “All of this has been discussed before. Let us make the orders, Halfdan, let yourself follow them.”

Halfdan hesitates.

“Captain Dainsleif,”

“Halfdan.”

“I apologize for overstepping,” he says, “but I’m just afraid of what will happen to us.”

Dainsleif rolls his shoulders back, nodding subtly. He clinks the bottom of his glass against the table.

“I am too,” he replies, tilting his head back and his glass up.

When he sets his glass back down, swallowing with a wince, he turns around. You’re the only one still on the floor, and you’re looking right at him.

500 years since

Dainsleif has spent his life figuring out where to drink. He finds that Mondstadt is the best place to.

The taverns there are quiet enough, and he isn’t bothered by anyone — they’re less lively than the ones way back when. It's a blessing that he isn’t haunted by the laughter, and a curse that he forgets what it sounds like. The tap beer is good, too. Mondstadt only serves you in bottles or chilled glasses.

But Dainsleif knows that no good comes after two in the morning, and nothing good comes from watching the Knights of Favonius pour in. 

(It’s a little too familiar; he’s watching his bloodied soldiers laugh and topple to the bar.)

Dainsleif leaves enough Mora to cover his tab and tip, and bolts for the door.

He makes a beeline through the center, cutting the body of the bar in two as these faces he recognizes comment on his attire. He knows he looks like a fish out of water, he feels like a fish out of water. Five hundred years spent in this place and he still feels hated — he’s sure the next five centuries won’t change.

He knocks shoulders with someone near the door: “Woah there, pretty small hallway this must be, huh?”

He’s about to apologize, too, maybe count it as his crooked form of atonement, until he looks the guy he hit in the eye. Yes, eye — there's only one showing. The other hides beneath an eye patch.

He’s looking at him, but somehow, he’s now looking at you.

He’s lost in them, his eyes, and this new guy seems to notice — judging by the way he’s dressed, Dain guesses he’s a captain. He clears his throat.

“I know you’re heading out, but maybe another drink wouldn’t hurt?”

Dainsleif panics, because now he’s trapped. He doesn’t see you until he sleeps — not until he’s locked in bed somewhere, until it doesn’t matter what he says because no one else is there to listen but you and him. He can’t see you here, and he can’t see him.

“Sorry, but I’m afraid that I'm in a rush. I apologize for hitting you.”

(He doesn’t get very far.)

The man takes his wrist, making him turn around. 

“Please?” he asks, but it’s not really begging. More like a proposition, probably. “I’m not sure how to say that in Khaenri’ahn.”

Dainsleif lets out a breath.

One.

It is your old day, Sunday , when Dainsleif enters your shop again, the broken watch on his wrist thrumming against his pulse point with every jerk of its hands.

The bell rings above your door and he’s almost surprised the door isn’t locked — he remembers unlocking it for you after he had to go, way back when. Kissing you goodbye, apologizing for holding up your business. You aren’t far, either; you come out with a smile that fades quicker than he likes to admit.

“Hi.”

“Hello,” he says, all too formal. He winces, almost. “Uh, it's broken again.”

“Of course it did. It’s ancient.”

He just sighs a laugh, nodding, undoing it from his wrist, from beneath his sleeve. “Yes, it is. Do you think you can fix it again?”

You glance between him and the watch. Him, and the watch. “Let me see it.”

“Of course,”

“Okay.”

You examine it with delicate fingers, screwing off the back of the body with a small driver, squinting at its insides. Dainsleif watches you.

“Dain, this thing isn’t gonna last long.”

“I don’t mind. I can pay double.”

“Why do you like this watch so much?” you laugh, dropping it on the counter and crossing your arms. “I mean, they don’t pay you enough for a digital?”

Dainsleif shakes his head. “I like this one.” He coughs. “You fixed it, first.”

“Yeah, and I’m shocked it still works.”

“You craft well.”

The two of you don’t speak for a moment; you dwell on the watch, its body pulled apart on the table. Your fingers pull at your threading jeans, and Dainsleif must see you mutilating your pants because he leans on the counter, lowers himself to you.

He lets you look at him for a moment. “What is it?”

“Nothing,”

“What is it?” he asks again, like it isn’t the second time.

You take a deep breath, tilting your head up.

“I’m sorry about your designs. Every day.” He shakes his head, looking in behind you. Your desk is still full of paper. “I will reap what I sow, and that’s the only comfort I can give you.”

“I know.” “I’m sorry. Endlessly, I am.”

You huff. “I’ve had better things since. It’s not what bugs me, Dain.”

“What is it, then, my dear?”

Your tongue pushes against your cheek, regretful hands reaching out to grip his own. It’s like you know you’re doing yourself no favours, but you’ve always been a masochist.

“Are we going to be okay?” you ask. “Not us. This place.”

He can tell you’ve been sitting with this thought alone, he’s just not sure how long. Since you brought up the field tillers? Since his last expedition? When was he last here, he’s not entirely sure.

His thumb wipes over your knuckles. He doesn’t tell you whether you’re going to be okay.

“I will protect you,” he whispers, “even in my dying breath.”

The second time he meets the Traveller is when they ask him.

“What happened to Khaenri’ah?”

ZERO.

There is little you can see in smoke and ash. What Dainsleif can see, it is blurry and most likely dead.

(He doesn’t want to think about what happens to those who live — simply surviving is not enough, they’ll seek retribution in the living, too.)

He feels guilty for saying it, but he was glad when the castle fell — relinquished of his sworn duty, free to run to where your shop lives. It came down in a blow of fire, the castle did; more than just four mighty walls, built of minerals made to last. He’s afraid to think of what happens to simpler stones.

(He runs like you stand a chance.)

He’s running in the opposite direction of other people — hell, he’s directing them out of there. Whatever is behind them is a lost cause, for him it’s a little hope. The havoc being brought down on this place is proof that they’re not allowed to have hope, but he promises it’ll be his last bit. He’s assuming they can hear him when he prays for it.

The windows of your shop are blown out. He ignores the sound of crunching glass because you’re screaming his name.

(You stop when you see him, swallowing it. He drops to his knees and says you’re allowed to yell, even when he’s there.)

“Dain,”

“Just breathe, hold on,” he breathes, chest pumping as he starts to heave the rubble off of you, the thick pillars that bar you from moving. He lifts one, another falls down. He lifts that one, and another, and another.

“Dainsleif.”

He’s still heaving, grunting now. Sweat lines his forehead and he’s coughing up soot he smelt ages ago.

“Dain,”

He’s crying.

“Dainsleif,” you spit, grabbing his wrist. You shake your head. “You’re hurting me.”

“I have to get you out,”

“To where?” you whisper, voice shaking. “Where are we going to go?”

Dainsleif doesn’t cry intentionally. His eyes are so wet that he can’t see clearly and they’re cleaning off his cheeks, but if tears were invisible you would never be able to tell.

You shake your head. “I’m not going to die in the street.”

“Don’t be so blunt, dear, please.”

“There is no other way to p-put it,” you say with a shiver, swallowing the hurt that threatens to spill out between your teeth; you smile instead. You feel weak already, even weaker in front of a commander. “Don’t cry about it,"

“I can’t stop it,” he chokes out, shaking his head. He cradles your head in his lap, brushes back your hair until his fingers get caught in knots. “There is nothing I can do.”

The weight of your life, his world, is in his lap, and he thinks about tomorrow. One, or both of you, will be dead, and yet that weight will still be there.

“There’s no one but the gods that could stop this, Dain,”

“I—”

“I love you,” you gasp, “I forgive you. I love you.”

“No.”

“Say it back, you stubborn, stubborn man,” you grit. 

(Dainsleif keels over you, and he says it back. He repeats it until he feels your grip on him loosen, until your head lulls the other way. He repeats it until he feels sick and out of breath, because he knows he will never say it again. He repeats it until he's about to gag.)

He remains in your shop for the next few hours, unmoving, leaned up against the front desk that amazingly still stands. He’s holding your hand.

Dainsleif waits for something. Probably a sentence, to death or otherwise. He waits here for a chance for the roof to cave in, or to be struck down by someone that finds him. He hopes the gods get to him. He hopes this shop still stands if they pry him out of it. He hopes they call him Atlas and tell him to hold it up.

“This watch is never gonna work.”

Dainsleif blinks at the man across the counter, who looks at him with raised eyebrows — probably in shock that he even thought it was fixable — and a condescending frown. “You are sure?”

“Dude, this wasn’t supposed to work the last time you had it fixed. This looks like it’s centuries old.”

“It…”

Is. He doesn’t finish that.

“It’s an heirloom,” he says instead. “It's impossible, then?”

“Uh, yeah. I’m pretty good at what I do, but this is … miracle talk. This should have been up-cycled three hundred years ago.”

“I see.”

The two men stand in silence for a moment, and the clocksmith brings a hand down on the watch.

When he strikes it, he knocks the last bits of air out of its lungs; the watch ticks a final one, two, three times, and Dainsleif hears laughter to his left.

He turns, and there you are.

You’re sitting on a bench, alive, breathing. You’re holding a popsicle and leaning back like you don’t have a care in the world. 

Dainsleif thinks of all the things you can say to him. That you blame him, that you love him, that you hate what he did. That you wish he could save everyone, that you wish he could’ve maybe saved you. That you’re thankful you died and never had to live as a curse. That you think of him, too.

(You don’t do any of that.) 

Instead, you smile, close-lipped and gentle. And you wave.

The watch stops after the third tick. He loses you in a blink for one second, and you’re gone.

“Can you hit it again?”

“When I tell you that was its last life, I really mean it. I’d guess it had ten of them.”

He swallows, nodding, staring down at his broken watch. He’ll never see you again, hear it tick three times and go back to your bed on Sunday, hear it tick three times and listen to you say you love him in his native tongue. He’ll never go home, but he’s glad he saw you one more time.

He’ll never go home, but he’s glad he saw it one more time. 

“So? You gonna try and bargain, or…?”

Dainsleif is staring at the bench you were just in; his fingers itch for it. If he has to spend the next lifetime looking at that bench, he’s going to do it alone, and he’s going to learn how to do it without you.

You deserve to rest — he was the one cursed to live forever, not you. You did not die in vain.

He turns back to the clocksmith, who honestly looks pretty bored of him by now.

“Can I sell the parts?”

[mrghostrat]

if it's not too personal: what kind of music do you listen to? any band recommendations?

i've been meaning to ask for a while, never got around to it though. but then i saw that you mentioned The Wombats in the chapter notes for chapter 10, who i adore.

you just look like someone who has really good taste in music?? hope that's not too weird rip

oh god i'm always here to infodump about my favourite bands

NEW MOTHER MOTHER ALBUM JUST DROPPED (ANd THE WHOLE THING IS VERY CROWLEY CODED)

my favourite band is everything everything. i like just about everything everything they've ever released (snrk) (and theyve just put out another new single so i think we're on the way to ANOTHER album)

been on a maaaaaaaassive hippo campus kick lately. adoring their new stuff

also big big fan of glass animals, of course (drawn a lot of good omens art to them)

my fave song of most time is Boss by bear hands

and some other top top faves of mine:

hozier, matt maeson, matt corby

old fall out boy (been super vibing with folie a deux nostalgia lately)

shayfer james, cloudfodder, huxlxy, nick lutsko

cage the elephant, awolnation, the vaccines

saint motel, the wombats, jukebox the ghost, the happy fits, IDKHBTFM, coin, foreign air

[decaying-distortion-2049]

Lana del ray, marina this the 1975 that but WHERE I ask are the edgy kids?!?! Ya know that weird 2014-2018 emo revival that we all just moved on from? I’m talking the emos that were around when TØP got a number one with stressed out, the emos cried over Mrs potato head, the emos that thought my Chem were coming back when the teaser for MCRX dropped on Halloween (LIKE AINT THAT THE MOST EMO SHIT YOU COULD THINK OF!) where are my edgy legends who remember the fall out boy fandom literally splitting in half over night when young and a menace dropped? Where are all the people (who I mostly found on this hell site) who collectively fell in love with Ryan Ross and made AFYCSO and pretty. Odd. A part of our personality. WHERE ARE ALL CRANK THAT FRANKS FORMER SUBSCRIBERS?!?!?!? My black veil brides girlbloggers who went to WAR with Juliet bloggers (if you know you know). The true edge lords who single handedly made suicide squad a cultural moment and deadpool their new favourite boi (HERE COME THAT BOI OH SHIT WHATSUP).

We were dealt a weird hand in the history of alternative culture, where the old ways were dying out slowly and the bands we loved were evolving into something more modern. We got some of the very best and very worse of music at the time. We all cried over Chester Bennington together. We strived for change while still respecting the best parts of 2000s emo and better treatment of POC and the LGBTQ+ community within our communities (we still aren’t 100% there but being on this site now makes me believe the alt kids now will do even better than we could). I can’t even get a fraction of all the things 2014-2018 edgy kids went though in this post there’s just so much, so if you’re out there still rotting away here on tumblr.com, and you happen to see this post, PLEASE tell me your fondest memories, your wildest bandom stories, your drama and tea and shade I want it all!! Sometimes I swear just me and my friends went though this weird emo phase and maybe it’s because I’m not on tik tok or instagram but it feels like this era of emo is just so overlooked in favour of classic 2000s MySpace emo (which is ironic because 2010s emos really wanted to be 2000s emos so bad but we just couldn’t bring ourselves to take….certain bands seriously or put raccoon tails in) it’s probably also because there wasn’t just emos, pale grunge and pop punks not dead and ethereal tumblr girls and Hollywood undead wannabes dominated at the time SO WHERE HAVE YOU ALL GONE?!?! YOU CANT HAVE ALL JUST GOTTEN OVER IT AND MOVED ON!

[multifanlol]

If your still taking request can you pls do yandere Scott tenorman x reader that is like mikan tsumiki (being a nurse,clumsy,apologizing a lot,ect)

Yes I’m still taking requests don’t be shy to ask :) also sure! It might be a little out of character since we don’t see Scott a lot in the viewers pov but I’ll try-

Tw: If you’ve seen the game you know Mikan herself can be a trigger to some people with similar trauma but incase you didn’t mentions of sexual trauma, falling into inappropriate positions, bullying, etc all that stuff also stalking, overall yandere stuff

Yandere Scott Tenorman x reader who acts like Mikan Tsumuki

Before the chilli incident

When we first met you was completely by accident as he was just talking with his friends about whatever and you bumped into him into one of “those” positions

Wouldn’t lie he would make fun of you a little since his friends are there but then he’d help you up realising how uncomfortable that position must be

Then he realises how pretty you are and he was lovesick right away

Like he doesn’t know what to say then and then and you pretty much start apologising over and over thinking you did something-

He quickly stops you kinda flustered with his friends watching telling you it’s fine and to stop apologising till you run off

Yep he’s obsessed like he keeps on talking about how pretty you are around his friends that it begins to annoy them so they just tell him to take you out

Like my boy wants to but doesn’t know how to approach he doesn’t even know where to find you!

Till his friends tell him your a nurse….

You weren’t exactly a full time one since you were still in school but the way you’d heal wounds and etc were so good in the teachers eyes they offered you a job to work there! You were so good you became the official full time one-

And oh boy does he become your most visited customer

Apparently Scott always seems to have “cramps”, a “twisted” elbo, the flu….

Soon you notice he becomes your only customer, not that you mind it’s nice having a friend but…..

Anyways! When he finds out about your past of being bullied he feels some sort of rising anger in him he’s never felt before…..

Like yeah he’s been really mad before but not THIS mad it feels kinda psychotic really…..

Really

Maybe he’d get you to give them the names……and addresses…..

Sooner or later you notice nobody’s bullying you anymore! That’s great but you also notice people seem to i don’t know…..fear you? Did you do something? You’d ask and they’d practically scram acting like your gonna kill them-

You thought you did something but not to worry, your greatest and only friend Scott Tenorman is here!

He’d comfort you and make all those sad tears go away!

“Don’t be so sad s/o who needs all the friends in the world anyway? You have me and that’s all that matters”

I feel like he’d maybe let you hang around his friends only if he’s there of course and it’d be rare he doesn’t want them to ruin you….your his after all….

Would probably be more gentle and calm with you as to not freak you out but not gonna lie in his opinion seeing you scared some times can be cute…..

Definitely wouldn’t tell you about the whole pubes thing as he wouldn’t wanna let you in on it as it’d be kinda embarrassing in his eyes although he does let you go to the chilli festival to “impress you” or something like that….

Cartman would def find out about you when stalking Scott he’s stalking you so he would just take a few photos of Scott and give them to you i mean who would you believe Scott over an “innocent” little boy?

Your not really sure what to believe honestly with the way you grew up you’d find it maybe…..cute? Scott is your only friend! You don’t wanna lose him

During the chilli festival you watch Scott lose everything embarrassed in front of his friends, his parents dead, his favourite band brutally roasting him, yk he’s kinda going mad

After the chilli incident

Ever since the festival Scott was missing not even you heard of him, you were worried and it’s not like your life got any better, people went back on to bullying you, etc yk it sucked

But you always felt like someone was watching you…..particularly all the ginger kids, like they were meant to keep an eye on you….

You didn’t really want to think much of it but one day while you were sleeping, you woke up in a…..different place

And you felt a presence of someone in the room and noticed a shadow…..coming out was Scott Tenorman! With ginger kids behind him…?

Not to worry! Everything’s gonna be okay, he just had to kidnap you and keep you here to make sure your safe! He’s gonna get revenge on that Eric kid for ruining his life….

He’d become much more possessive and brutal although not exactly brutal to you as in his eyes you can do no wrong although brutal with others especially with his kills

Good luck because i don’t think you’ll ever be seeing the light of sun again, maybe just maybe he’d let you and him go at night but only at night as it’s too risky

I mean can you totally blame him? (Yes you can) he just lost his parents thanks to a little kid (and that kid is Eric Cartman) anything can happen….

Definitely becomes much more clingy and affectionate with you now as before he’d still be embarrassed in front of his friends now he doesn’t care he can give you all the attention you’d desire! If you ever cried he’d feel horrible

“Aw d-don’t cry! Look i know you want to leave but it’s not like you had it good out there anyway! They all hated you, I’m protecting you!”

Whenever he’s thinking of some plan to get back at Cartman and you sadly can’t be there which is rare he get some of the ginger kids he got to watch over you which would be kinda rare although he trusts you won’t leave i mean, not only are you insanely clumsy but do you really wanna go back to your life out there?

Overall he would be a bit of a messy yandere tough with a soft side i guess?

I hope you liked it-if you wanna request anything else it’s open! Bye love y’all! :)

[wonderbutch]

genres and bands i listen to and how i got into them: an entirely too long useless list i made instead of sleeping

celtic punk

shoutout to the genre ever? i grew up listening to celtic punk literally since i was born. my dad sucks but his music taste does not. this genre is 32% responsible for my leftist punk attitude, which is ironic if you know anything about my father.

- the dropkick murphys: first band i can ever remember hearing. as a toddler i called them “the bastards”. still a favourite forever and everrr. their newish album “this machine still kills fascists” fucks HARD. the band will forever be a formative reminder of my working class upbringing in a miners family

- the rumjacks: late nights and early mornings in my dads car introduced me to this band. i really will tell me ma when i get home and i wont feel guilty about it

- paddy and the rats: one of the only celtic punk bands i actually discovered on my own. in 2018 i went on a sailing ship for a week and that got me rlly into celtic punk again LMAO. this band is so fucking good

emo/pop punk

i was 13 and tbh it was a phase but i still love listening to fob and mcr and sws

- my chemical romance: unironically i think i got into them through band memes

- fall out boy: literally just thru scrolling through youtube when i was 12

- [REDACTED]: [REDACTED]

- sleeping with sirens: this band shaped me as a person. kellin quinn the original gender envy. ohhh i miss this band sm

- all time low: a kid in my class in year 7 introduced me to all time low and ill remember him forever for it. hope youre well, jaiden.

- la dispute: got to see them live last year after @starcam413 got me into them! theyre kinda more screamo like sws but not in the same way as sws but definitely emo too

- set it off: this band is still SO GOOD. so fucking good oh my god. truly the fucking era

- the score: i was a greek mythology nerd as a kid (its my major now!) of course i listened to the score. i miss being 13 and listening to the score on youtube on my laptop at 3am so bad

folk punk

celtic punk and folk punk are very related, and i grew up listening to bands like the pogues and the violent femmes. is it really any wonder how i ended up Like This

- the violent femmes: as a child my dad would play country death song in the car. yes i am mentally ill and have daddy issues can you blame me????? (the song is literally about killing your daughter and then offing yourself)

- toby foster: really one of my proper introductions to the genre and what ultimately led me to discover bands like ajj and pat the bunny. found him on youtube through his song tennessee. i was 13 i think?

- pat the bunny: after toby foster i was completely hooked on the genre and of course ended up listening to the king himself, pat the bunny. your heart is a muscle the size of your fist is such a comfort song to me even now. it sucks he no longer makes music but im very happy he got sober!

- schmekel: im trans and punk of course i listen to schmekel. fantastic trans and jewish band that helped me a lot with my transness as a young teen

- mal blum: im counting his music as folk punkish, sue me. no idea how i got into them either. their song new years eve is the song i listen to on repeat every single new years eve, and i have yet to change this tradition. Help Me.

- the front bottoms: I DONT CARE WHAT ANYONE SAYS. THEIR EARLIER ALBUMS ARE FOLK PUNK AS HELL. genuinely my favourite band ever. i can’t remember how i got into them but is how i ended up friends with @starcam413 (hi jon!)

- she/her/hers: sooo formative to me when i was 15/16 struggling with being trans.

- harley poe: ohh i love this guy so fucking much. why do i relate so much to a middle aged divorced man????

- days n daze: one of the most popular folk punk bands so i mean. Duh. sooo good i love them.

punk

- the sex pistols: listen. listen to me LISTEN TO ME. LISTEN. i dont even fucking like this band. in fact i despise it. but because my dad is an idiot, he loves this band and played it a lot when i was a kid.

- the queers: i think i heard them on a spotify playlist last year? big fan.

- the muslims: i believe this was recommended to me on reddit?? amazing black and brown queer band, i love it a lot

- tribe 8: im a lesbian with a complicated gender identity of course i listen to tribe 8. trans queer punk band that i listened to a lot when i was like 15 i think

- against me!: listened to them a lot when i was 15

new wave/post punk

got into this genre in 2022 and Hella into it late last year. blame paper girls brainrot.

- devo: got into them in 2022 thanks to an online friend hi ira 🌀 theyve never made a single bad song

- the cure: once again my dad showed me a lot of the cure when i was a kid and getting into music

- blondie: ….have you seen the batman and harley quinn movie….please dont make me say more. the first cassette in my collection is from this band!

- new order: one of my favourite bands right now. like most things for the last three years of my life, i got into this band because of a comic book. the tv adaption of paper girls features two new order songs and it got me absolutely hooked on this band.

rock/all that shit??

- danzig: once again you can blame paper girls for this

- bon jovi: also paper girls. i am obsessed with jon bon jovi’s hair in the 90s. gender envy as fuck

- queen: when i was 14 i found my grandpas mp3 player from the 2000s, he was a big fan of queen. i ended up putting all my music on the mp3 player and ive used it every single day since.

- billy joel: i was raised by my grandmother of course i listened to billy joel. played a lot on our old radio with my nans ipod when i was a kid. apparently my nan isnt even a big fan of him so i guess he was only formative to me lol????

indie

probably one of my most listened to genres just because. i have no reason. ive come to realise that most of my indie music taste is stolen from aura.

- girl in red: shoutout to discovering im a lesbian in 2017/2018 and to my best friend @vampoholica for introducing me to girl in red

- bastille: i love bastille sm icarus is such a good song and as a greek mythology kid i was so obsessed. bad blood youll always be famous to me

- mitski: oguhfhgh i dont know how i got into mitski but good lord. literally life changing.

- the smiths: fuck morrissey. i think this too was aura’s fault and i forgive them bc i love the smiths

- chloe moriondo: ahh the youtube ukulele era how i miss you

- alex g: i can’t remember how i got into alex g but i got into his music in 2022 and now im obsessed and unwell about him

- adrienne lenker: again this is aura’s fault and i am so fine with that. music sooo devastating it makes u wanna throw up and sleep forever

- elliott smith: i started listening to him because of simon vs the homo sapiens agenda

okay thats it thank u for reading this stupid post lol

[shares-a-vest]

@eddiemonth Day 8: Rockstar, Confident

Word Count: 952 Rating: T | cw: No Happy Ending, Break-Up Fic, No Resolution, Hurt No Comfort My first post for Eddie Month! With this event's prompts, I reallyyy want to challenge myself and write things I typically wouldn't/haven't so far. I'm sorry for starting out a week late with a no-happy-ending fic, I didn't mean for it to work out this way 😭😅 Thanks to both Lex and Lex for creating and hosting this event 💖💖💖

Since he was a boy, listening to a healthy combination of his mother's records and any and every radio station his dad could tune into, Eddie dreamed of being a rockstar.

When he was six, his grandma gifted him a battery-operated plastic microphone with sound effects. Later when he first moved in with his uncle and the Munson family had dwindled down to just the two of them, Wayne brought home an acoustic guitar from Goodwill.

Eddie practised and played away, sometimes for hours too long until underdeveloped callouses stung and bled. Wayne helped him paint 'This Machine Slays Dragons' on it so he could be just like Woody Guthrie, one of his mom's favourites.

He soon found his fellow bandmates in Jeff, Gareth and George. Gareth offered up his garage and Jeff came up with the name Corroded Coffin. Eddie and George made merch and drew up posters.

They practised and played until Gareth's mother kicked them out of the garage, complaining about what the neighbours might think of their noisy metal thrashing. They entered the Battle of the Bands contest in middle school, then started playing at The Hideout perhaps a few years too early for a handful of drunks who probably weren't listening anyway.

Then they spent the next few years scrimping and saving between jobs, travelling to other towns in his shitty van until they found an even shittier (but bigger) van and a studio that was willing to give them a booking to record a demo.

They shopped it around for a good long while as Eddie turned on his charm.

And one day they got a chance.

George called Eddie, frantically talking about a producer who wanted to re-record the demo with an expert on hand, all the while promising more music and a meeting with a potential manager.

And if all that wasn't enough, Eddie found himself with none other than Steve Harrington by his side.

After a good few years of pining and failed dates and the temporary comfort of other people, they finally got their act together. It was Christmas, just a few months after the demo got picked up. They kissed out on Claudia Henderson's front porch with snow falling around them as they promised each other more.

Then Corroded Coffin made it.

The perks came fast. Money – oh-so-much fucking money! Private cars and drivers to take them anywhere they wanted. Touring around the world and sightseeing between gigs. Adoring fans. Photoshoots. Magazine covers, interviews and TV spots.

Eddie always maintained it was about the music, though. The rush, the confidence and power it gave him to be performing on stage. Whether it be The Hideout or a goddamn stadium. It filled his soul from the moment he stepped on stage until the band finished their encore.

But most of all, he had Steve by his side. Always.

Until he didn't.

Until the night he got back to their hotel room, a swanky penthouse overlooking New York City that they always stayed in. They were barely a night out from returning back to the States from a quick promo tour in Europe for the new album.

Steve had left a note scrawled in his messy handwriting on the hotel's branded notepad.

'Going to Robin's' is all it said.

Eddie was angry at the time. He balled the note up in his fist and hurled it across the room.

At the time he was pissed because Steve was acting all bitchy pouty at the airport after barely speaking a word to him the whole flight. Then he was tapping away incessantly on the limo's middle armrest the whole car ride, looking at the window with his stupid Tom Cruise sunglasses on.

At the time he guessed it had something to do with the last night in Amsterdam. The band had a gig, the last one and Eddie just wanted some quiet so he skipped out on dinner, telling their security to pass the message on to Steve.

But it was just a tiff, right? Steve knew what it was like – how exhausting being on the road could get sometimes.

He thought Steve knew what the deal was, that he didn't mean anything by not going to dinner. Hell, Steve was used to a last-minute change of plans after years of this, right?

At least that's what Eddie told himself until Steve didn't call.

Or come back.

So, Eddie called Robin's number. No answer.

Then he asked Jeff to call, even their manager. Still nothing.

A call to Wayne made it real though.

"Eddie," his uncle had sighed, voice low and impossibly disappointed.

And then everything he had gained came to mean nothing.

As Eddie now stands at the door to Robin's apartment in Chicago, he knows he fucked up. Knows that it won't be easily forgiven.

Knows that Robin will probably cut his dick off if she arrives home from... Which gallery had she moved to, again? Steve told him. Weeks ago... months? He thinks...

He should have asked his publicist to look up the name of the gallery along with Buckley's address.

His stomach drops and tears begin to fall as Steve opens the door.

"Oh," his boyfr – Steve – mutters as his brows quickly knit together.

Eddie slaps his hand onto the doorframe, chancing the guy slamming the door shut and thus smooshing his guitar-wielding digits.

But then Steve rips off his wire-framed glasses and presses the heels of his palms into his reddening eyes.

"How could you just forget about me?" he sobs, his whole body shaking.

And Eddie is confident the sound of Steve choking on his own breath as he cries will haunt him for the rest of his life.

[moonchats]

Bickering - S.R

summary: pen and spence argue over music (fluff)

Pairing: Spencer x Reader

warnings: taylor swift. there’s so much taylor swift. idc if it doesn’t make sense for spencer to like taylor swift cos he likes classical music the man can like taylor in my head okay.

*no description on reader+ is gn*

The case was hard without Spencer, it always is when he isn't around, so when the jet landed you couldn't be more excited to go home. You heard snickers from Derek, about how you 'lose your a-game when pretty boy isn't around' and how 'he'll still be back at Quantico when we go back' but you didn’t care, your job wasn’t as easy when he wasn’t around.

You rushed through the doors, placing your go bag on your desk and rushed to Pen's office, instantly hearing bickering behind the door. You stood there for a moment, trying to listen to what they were saying.

“Your telling me, after your many years of living on this planet, you’ve never once heard of Fall Out Boy?” Penelope almost screamed, at what you presumed was your technophobe boyfriend.

“What? No- Why would i have heard of that? Is it a tv show?”

“is it a tv- God Spencer, no they’re a band, an artist, a group of people who get instruments and play songs and sing on stage”

“I know what a band is Penelope”

“Tell me, what bands have you heard of then?” You felt like you had to intervene, but it was so much funnier hearing this conversation happen while they were none the wiser of your wearabouts.

“What are you doing? Why is your ear pressed up against the do-“

“Shut the fuck up!” You hushed Morgan, “They’re arguing, listen!” You hurried him with your hand.

“My dad would play the beatles?” Spencer answered

“Can i give you a bunch of artists names? I wanna see if you know them or not.” You heard a hum after penelope’s request, which instantly made you sigh, it was only gonna get worse.

“Just say yes or no, Taylor swift?”

“No”

“Jesus christ okay, Paramore”

“No.”

“One direction”

“No?”

“Black Sabbath?”

“No”

“Metallica?”

“Oh yeah i know Metallica”

“You’ve never heard of Black Sabbath, but you know Metallica?” You could feel the judgement pour out of her eyes from behind the door, which instantly made you open the door.

Their faces instantly lit up at the sight of you, Reid instantly waddling over to give you a hug despite the pain in his knee, given you direct eye contact with Penelope as you hugged him, “Did you know he doesn’t know Taylor Swift?” She asked you, a defeated look appeared on her face, “He’s been one of my best friends for god knows how long, and he’s never heard of Taylor Swift”

Chuckling, “Yeah, I wear headphones in the house a lot so he doesn’t really get a lot of my music taste” You respond, you look to him “Can we go home? I’m tired”

He smiled, “Yeah, C’mon” you both turned to Penelope who’s started chatting to Derek, “Bye you two!”

Both of you waddled out of the door, helping him walk to leave, before grabbing your bag off your desk and everything else you needed.

“Thank you” He said to you, a grin as wide as his ears appeared on his face.

“I don’t know why you didn’t just tell her” You respond.

“And let her know that i love her favourite artist? No way i’ve got an image to maintain” You let out a snort at that statement, causing him to laugh also.

“Arsehole, she’s gonna be furious when you tell her you’ve got the orange reputation vinyl she wants”

“That’s why we aren’t gonna tell her”

fluff is so fun to write lol idec

love you all to the Moon and back🌚

lmk if you enjoyed + reblog please 💋💋

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

Dating Austin Butler Would Include

You’d meet through friends and instantly hit it off.

But he’s a workaholic.

So you probably wouldn’t be able to go on an actual date right away.

But he’d text you every day.

And they’d evolve into phone calls and facetime .

You’d fall asleep on the phone together.

You’d essentially be a couple before you’d even gone out.

He loves date night no matter what it is.

But his favourite is when he gets to cook for you.

And he’s an amazing cook.

‘Aus this pasta is amazing.’ ‘Better than sex?’ ‘Hmm, I think I need both to accurately compare.’ ‘Say no more.’

He’s quite assertive in the bedroom,

But he’s all about your enjoyment.

And he loves cuddling after. He’s definitely big on aftercare. 

He always has to have you near.

His love language is definitely physical touch; forehead kisses, his hand on the small of your back, holding hands in public.

It’d make you touch starved whenever he was away.

But he’d always make up for it when he was back.

‘We really should do something today.’ ‘I thought staying in bed was what we were doing?’ ‘I meant something productive.’ ‘Oh, babe this is plenty productive.’

He’d be so excited to introduce you to his friends.

You’d pray Ashley liked you [you know how much they mean to one another].

Seeing him with Jupiter would melt your heart.

You’d know he’s the one you wanted all that stuff with.

But Austin’s lifestyle is a little chaotic.

So you’d start with a puppy.

He’d be like a kid on Christmas.

He’d literally buy everything you could ever need from the pet store.

‘Oh, so this is where you’re both hiding?’ ‘Hey I came for a nap, he followed.’ ‘Should I be offended he likes you more than me?’ ‘What can I say I have a way with boys.’ ‘I’ll say.’

Having your lil puppy would make missing him a little easier.

When he was back he’d have to sleep on the edge of the bed because the two of you had gotten into a routine.

He’d propose soon after.

With the most beautiful ring you’d ever seen [he’d definitely spend hours agonising over the perfect ring for you].

Wedding planning would be agonising with him in and out.

Because he would want to be involved in everything.

But it’d all come together eventually.

He’d look so handsome in his suit .

And he’d definitely make you cry with his vows.

You’d make sure his mom was included somehow [like a remembrance table or save her a seat].

He’d 100% cry.

And though he’d say he was not a dancer he’d spend all night with you on that dance floor.

After you were married you’d start trying for a family.

Maybe even take some time off from work or quit altogether so you two could be a family and you could go with him as you wanted.

He’d be nervous but so excited.

Seeing him with your baby was the best feeling ever.

Singing them lullabies, playing peekaboo, falling asleep holding them.

As they got older he’d teach them how to play the guitar.

‘Look what I did mama.’ ‘That’s amazing baby.’ ‘By the end of the year, we’ll have a full band.’ ‘This ones not even done cooking yet Butler.’ ‘Details.’

Whenever it all got a bit much [parenting, tabloids, long distance] he’d always be there to cheer you on and remind you that you weren't alone.

He’d definitely be fiercely protective of you and the kids. The only time he gets properly angry is when someone is rude about you.

But you can always talk him down maybe a little too well [baby no 4 anyone?].

THIS IS PART OF MY CHRISTMAS CHALLENGE. I’LL BE POSTING AN IMAGINE EVERDAY FROM 1ST - 25TH DECEMBER. THIS AND ALL IMAGINES WILL BE UPLOADED IN THE LINK POSTED DAY BY DAY.

ADVENT CALENDAR OF IMAGINES

[bowiebond]

TW dubcon/mention of SA? (Ace character who doesn’t know they’re ace is belittled into sex — it doesn’t go into detail)

Jason never realising he’s asexual until he marries a girl and goes “oh fuck I waited until marriage like a good Christian boy, but I’m supposed to do the deed now…”

He holds off as long as possible. Makes excuses. Until it’s been months and his wife snaps at him.

“What, is your dick broken or something?! Am I not attractive enough for you? I married you in hopes of having an easy well off life with children that I could put my love into and you can’t even give me that?!”

Jason relents. He has pride and he wants to hold onto it and…well, it’s uncomfortable. It feels nice, physically, but he can’t focus on the pleasure when his skin is crawling, his stomach churning.

She’s gorgeous. Beautiful, really. He knew that. He doesn’t understand why his body doesn’t.

She doesn’t make him do it again for a while. Waits a few weeks but when there’s no positive test, she asks him to try again.

It takes four tries before she falls pregnant, and Jason is relieved. She’s gotten her baby. She doesn’t need him for anything more than a paycheck and a father now. She seems happy with that; he’s come to realise she never loved him. It explained the quick engagement. He had been swept up in his desire for a girlfriend, a wife who he’d come home to and kiss on the cheek and maybe watch a movie with that he never considered that maybe she didn’t want that too.

It feels like a break up, Jason thinks. He’s only been through one before with his highschool sweetheart, Chrissy.

Jason wonders if maybe he’s gay. It’s a thought that makes his gut clench and his throat tighten up. Hell, he even tries to watch some stuff. It does little to nothing for him. He stares hours at his screen, switching between pornos, straight and gay and even lesbian, but nothing strikes him as appealing. He half-considers the videos where men would pet their kneeling boys, interested in the gentle flushes it would induce, but it didn’t stir anything that made his dick hard. It just made his heart race, really, the intimacy of it.

He decides he’s not gay. Just…fundamentally broken. Or maybe he had been born for priesthood, celibate for life. Fuck, that sounded like a good life to him.

So he does it. He joins the priesthood. He’s married, sure, but it’s an easy excuse to why he can’t sleep with her anymore. He’s devoted to this way of life, he told her. To God. And he was. He had grown up looking towards the sky.

After a year, she divorces him. It’s hard, and rocky, but she finds a new man within two years who she actually does love.

He gets a son anyway, Joseph, even if he only sees him three days out of the week and he’s unable to stay the night most days because his mother is clingy regarding her baby. The few times he does get his boy for the night, he curls the five year old into his chest and reads him storybooks until he nods off, all chubby cheeks and tousled blond hair like his father.

He hopes he never grows up. Never gets bigger. Because one day he won’t want to share a bed with his father, be held by him, or even visit because he had his stepdad in the picture and his ex-wife has snippy comments on her tongue about him at the ready always.

But he gets older. Of course he does. Joseph is thirteen when he begs Jason to take him to see a metal band.

“I know, ‘it’s the devils music’, but they’re really good, Dad. Can’t you just do this for me, for once? Mom won’t let me go without an adult and she refuses to go with me. Or let David.” His stepdad. Joseph scowls as he spits the name. David isn’t all that bad, but he refuses to argue with his wife, and it gets on the boys nerves. Jason’s also aware there’s a bit of favouritism when it came to Joseph and their other two kids, Lauren and Peter.

Jason can’t say no. Not when his son is obviously being slighted instead of just being told no by his mother. She could be a real petty woman at times. What did Jason ever see in her?

“Fine.”

“Yes! Thank you, dad!” Joseph is buzzing the rest of the week, even offering to pay for his fathers ticket out of his saved up pocket money since Jason hadn’t been keen, but like hell was he taking his kids money.

“Keep it, ‘Seph. Buy yourself a shirt or something from the concert instead, okay?” Jason ignores that it’s a petty move on his end too. He knows his ex-wife will chuck a fit at their son wearing heavy metal merch, but the idea delights Jason. The satisfaction would be better than sex by tenfold. He would know.

Jason almost regrets coming when he sees the crowd. They’re all draped in black with wildly coloured hair and he feels like a sore thumb with his baby blue polo and white cardigan tied around his shoulders, blond hair swept back. He also feels a tad old for the crowd, but he sees a few men and women much older than him, so at least he knew he wasn’t the only grown up.

God. A priest at a heavy metal concert. What a scenario.

“Dad, dad, they’re coming on stage, oh my god.” Joseph is jumping on his toes, trying to see over the crowd and Jason, who never dropped his strict regime, figured he could chance one evening of carrying a barely teen on his shoulders. Joseph almost falls at first and laughs when Jason clamps down his hands. He’s heavier than he used to be and it makes Jason’s heart (and shoulders) ache.

He squinted over the heads to look at the stage and found himself feeling a strange sense of familiarity as a shaggy dark haired man in black and chains walked onto stage, taking the microphone in hand.

“How’re my undead fans going? You all still alive?” The crowd roared, including Joseph, and it made Jason wince at the volume. The leads voice is nice though, low and just a tad rough around the edges. “Any newbies in the crowd? First show with us?” Joseph cheered along with a few others and the lead laughed.

He pointed at Joseph, the easiest one to spot with his blond hair and elevated height.

“Good to see some fresh faces. Little white sheep here needs a shirt, seriously, you look like you’re about to puke from excitement, kid.”

“I love you, Eddie Munson!” Joseph screamed and Jason’s eyes widened in shock, jaw going slack. He almost dropped Joseph before gripping tighter.

Prays be to God.

Eddie cackled, almost falling with how low he leant back. He swung back up with a weird grace to him, hair swinging forward with the force. He stomped towards the edge and pointed harder at him.

“You — you, kid, you buy a shirt and I’ll fuckin’ sign it, you got spirit, squirt!” He spun around, still laughing as he grabbed the microphone stand. He looked over his shoulder after a moment with wide eyes. “Apologises to the parental figure. But coarse language is advised.” He grinned and grabbed his guitar with flourish, tossing the strap over his head.

“Enough talk, let’s fuckin’ let loose.” The lights shut off with a scream from fans before red bled onto the stage, fog curling around Eddie’s shadowed figure, three more figures making themselves known behind instruments.

“Let’s knock open our Coffin, boys.” The purr rumbles through the speakers, followed by a low vibrating note that makes Jason’s breath hitch and hair stand on end.

The concert is a blur. Jason had taken a few songs to get used to the volume, but he couldn’t lie. They were good. With the crowd, with their instruments — Eddie’s voice could go from warm honey to gruff, animalistic almost, within moments. It was an experience, that was for sure.

“I have to get a shirt, dad. He said he’d sign it. You think he really will?” Joseph is shaking all over and Jason is only mildly concerned. He’s pretty sure he’s shaking too, but it’s in a good way?

“I’m sure he will.” Jason decides he should probably avoid going backstage with his son. Eddie and him hadn’t been…friendly. Less than. Jason had thought Eddie annoying as all hell and he’s pretty sure Eddie hated his guts.

Unfortunately, Joseph’s too young to go backstage alone according to the bodyguard.

“Please, dad? It’ll only be a few minutes, I promise, this is a once in a life time. I’ll never ask for anything ever again!” He begs and Jason had already folded to his whims when he said please.

Seeing Eddie up close is staggering. Makes his heart stop and start and sputter like an old car. When Eddie looks at him, he knows he’s put a name to the face in moments.

“Carver?”

Joseph’s eyes widen as he looks between Eddie and his father.

“Munson.” He greets back. Joseph’s mouth fell open in shock.

“You know Eddie Munson, dad?” There’s stars in his sons eyes and Jason wants to kick his younger self in the rear for being a dick to Eddie because now his son is going to reap what he sowed in his youth.

“I…We went to school together.” He thinned his lips and Eddie was watching him intensely. It made his cheeks hot. He had never been able to hide his embarrassment or shame with how pale he was.

“You haven’t changed.” Eddie remarked, eyeing his outfit with a smirk. Jason bristled at his words.

“And I see you’re still a—“ A scowl was growing but it fell apart when his son spoke.

“You were friends with Eddie Munson, dad?! Oh my god, I can’t believe this, this is the best day of my life! My boring priest dad was friends with a rockstar!” Joseph’s voice cracked, squeaky like every boy starting puberty. Jason’s heart plummeted. Anxiety swirled in his gut as he realised he was about to disappoint his only child, opening his lips to refute his claim.

“Oh, yeah, totally, little dude.” Eddie interjects, grinning. “We go wayyyy back. Best friends, really.” It was a bold faced lie and even his band mates seemed to agree it was a total farce from the looks on their faces, ranging from bewilderment to eye rolling exhaustion.

“Why did you stop being friends then?” Joseph frowned.

“I got busy with my career, obviously!” Eddie gestured to their surroundings. “I didn’t have a lot of time to phone and catch up. Totally my bad, really.” Holy shit, he was really going the full mile on this one. Jason wasn’t sure whether to applaud him or not.

Joseph elbowed his fathers side and looked at him expectantly.

“Maybe you should get back in contact so you have some actual friends. Ones that are cool.” He barely whispered it and Jason’s ears burned.

“I have friends. Everybody at church is my friend, Joseph.” He snipped out between clenched teeth, glaring at his son who scoffed. When had he become such a snarky kid? He used to be so sweet.

“That doesn’t count.”

“I’m too busy, Joseph.”

“You don’t even do anything when I don’t visit—“

“I do so—“

“Yeah but not like, a lot—“

“Hey, quit punching your old man while he’s down. You should know better.” Eddie laughed, pinching at the blond boys Corroded Coffin tee that he had thrown on over the top of his other shirt. “Come here, let me sign this thing. I’ll even add in a Polaroid you can frame.” He winked and Joseph’s eyes sparkled.

“Please!”

“So he has manners when he wants something.” Jason muttered. Eddie grinned and pulled Joseph closer, signing the shirt with his name. He called over his bodyguard to take a photo. Jason stood off to the side awkwardly, waiting to leave.

“C’mon, you too, old pal.” Eddie pulls him in last second and Jason’s pretty sure his wide eyes will be immortalised on his sons dresser, along with the blonds mused fringe flipped up against Eddie’s frizzy dark locks. He looks ridiculous, he bemoans to himself as each member autographs the Polaroid.

“Okay, come on, we have to head home now or your mother will throw a fit.” Jason ushers Joseph to say his goodbyes.

“Tell your wife I said hi, Carver.” Eddie drolls on his way out and Jason huffs.

“She’s not my wife.” And he was glad for it.

Just as they made for the door, Jason felt a hand on his wrist. He jumps and nearly trips over his own damn feet when Eddie tugs his arms around to expose his forearm, squiggling down several digits with his tongue peeking out between his lips, concentrated.

Jason tugged his arm away with his heartbeat in his ears when Eddie caught his eye, grinning.

“Call me sometime. You know. To catch up.” He winked and Jason was thrown for a moment at the gesture.

“Uh…sure.” He cleared his throat and left quickly with Joseph who was gushing about the fact that his father had Eddie Munson’s phone number.

Jason doesn’t intend to call it. So he doesn’t. It’s two weeks later and he’s happy to forget all about the meeting when a familiar face walks right through his church doors.

“What’re you doing here?” He hissed quietly, making his way down the aisle. It was after his service, so there wasn’t anybody except Thomson, who always stayed an extra hour to pray alone. His wife was going through a hard battle with cancer, so Jason never disturbed him. Sometimes, he’d even pray with him, or before bed, he’d pray on his behalf.

“Checking if I burn when I enter holy ground.” Eddie mimicked his whisper, a crooked grin on his lips and hands stuffed in the pockets of his tight black pants. “Seems I’m still safe after fifteen years.”

“How did you even know this was my church?” Jason looked back towards Thomson and huffed, leading Eddie back out of the door and closing it behind them. He wasn’t going to disturb the poor man. “Are you stalking me or something?”

“Your son told me.” Eddie shrugged and Jason blinked a few times.

“How did my son tell you?”

“You didn’t use my number, but he sure did.” Eddie smirked and Jason’s face burned with realisation. Joseph must have memorised the number on his forearm. That sneaky brat.

“I’m so sorry.” He sighed. “He’s a good kid but he’s nosy at the worst times. Gets it from his mother. I’m sure you have plenty of things to be doing instead of entertaining a thirteen year old.”

Eddie snorted.

“Kid worships the ground I walk on. I’m happy to entertain him.” There was a long pause between them, and Jason hated how cool Eddie seemed with it. Jason could never stand the quiet.

“I’m…also sorry about high school.” He forced the words past his lips. He was, to a degree, sorry. He had been a douchebag. His years in service had humbled him greatly, especially with how many folks he met from different walks of life. Becoming a priest had made him reevaluate a lot about himself.

Eddie was still a prick though. He had antagonised Jason just as much back then, even if Jason had had the popularity to back him unlike Eddie.

“Honestly? Me too. We were stupid, teenage dicks.” Eddie conceded and Jason rolled his eyes.

“You were a freak though.”

“And you were a preppy shitstain jock.”

They stared at each other, and after a long silence, Jason’s lip quirked up.

“Forgive and forget?”

“Something tells me if I don’t say yes now, I’ll have to say a dozen Hail Mary’s instead later.”

“Only half a dozen. I can be nice.” Jason shrugged and Eddie cackled, head thrown back.

“God, Carver, man, I never thought this would be how we met again. A priest. I mean, it makes sense, you bible thumper.” He teased, trying to hook a finger under the white band of his collar. Jason smacked his hand away with a huff.

“My church is about sharing Gods teachings and Jesus’ love with people who want it. I wouldn’t call myself a bible thumper. That implies I’m out rallying against gay marriage and abortions in my free time. I don’t care what folks outside my church do. I learnt that early on.”

“Oh wow. You’re all ‘love thy neighbour’, huh?” Eddie seemed genuinely surprised. “Not gonna stone a whore in the front yard?”

“Gosh no!” Jason put a hand to chest, appalled. “If she finds pleasure in flesh, good for her, but I will pass. And perhaps advise her to be safe. And evaluate why she prefers one night stands to a healthy, long term relationship with an active partner and plentiful sex.” He crossed his arms with a shrug of his shoulders and brows.

Eddie laughed. Full belly laughed, bent at the knees and wheezing a little.

“Oh my god! You’re literally — full one-eighty! You’re a whole new guy! This is…god, this is kind of hilarious.”

“You didn’t change, from what I’m seeing.” Jason mused. Eddie grinned.

“Nah. I mean, I grew up, had to to be in the biz long term, but I’m still everybody’s favourite freak.” He joked with a good-natured shrug.

“And now you’re standing outside my church.”

“The kid is convinced we have to reconnect. Be friends again.” Eddie chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m a sucker for kids, man. Can’t disappoint them.”

“Do you have any?”

“Nah. I mean — I could have.” Eddie admitted shyly. “Didn’t work out. Got too wrapped up in my career, couldn’t settle. And groupies, try as they might to convince you I hooked up with them, and knocked them up; I didn’t.”

“Why not?” Jason quirked a brow. “Isn’t that the big things with rockstars? Drugs, music and women?”

Eddie barked a laugh.

“Drugs? Some hard stuff in my youth. Some weed when I need to mellow out during a writing sesh. Music? Ear-aching amount. But I’m proud of it. As for women…” He leaned in closer, voice low as he spoke. “Not really my type.” He pulled back with thin lips and Jason’s heart thumped harder in his chest, his collar feeling too tight.

“I told you. I don’t judge people. Only the Creator can.” He looked up at the clear blue sky. “And he doesn’t make mistakes.” He assured softly and Eddie smiled. “So…you’re gay.”

“Not exactly.” Eddie shrugged, looking a bit shy. “Not really interested in anybody. Not in that way.”

Jason frowned.

“Is that why you aren’t married?” Despite his many rings, Eddie’s left ring finger was bare. “You don’t…can’t love anyone?”

“I do. I can.” Eddie affirmed. “Just, uh, not interested in showing it through…physical means.”

It clicked in Jason’s head then. His eyes widened, lips parted in surprise.

“I see.”

“Must suck. Being a priest. Celibacy and all.” Eddie suddenly said, shifting his stance to something faux-casual. Trying to move the subject off himself and his lack of desire.

“Not really. It’s why I went into it.” Jason admitted, Eddie’s confession making him feel brazen.

“You went into priesthood for…the abstinence?” Eddie frowned, squinting in confusion.

“Well, I had faith, and I was in a marriage I was unhappy in. She had the child she wanted. It seemed like a good option at the time. I’m glad I did it, actually.”

“Wait, just let me— are you…” Eddie gestured vaguely and Jason smirked.

“I’m not gay. I’m not really straight either. I…don’t desire sex. At all.”

“You have a son.” Eddie reminded, like Jason didn’t know.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but…I’m glad I had him, even if I wasn’t comfortable making him.” Jason truly meant that. Joseph was his pride and joy.

“So you’re asexual too?”

“Asexual?” Jason frowned. “Like a plant?”

“No, you, uh…you’re not attracted to anyone. Physically.”

“No.” Jason’s brows furrowed. “There’s a word for that?”

“Yeah.” Eddie chuckled. “There’s a lot of words for a lot of things. I am curious though; do you like anybody romantically?”

Jason thought about it. He had thought he loved his ex-wife. He knew he had loved Chrissy before they spilt. He had had plenty of crushes as a kid and even in his years as a priest, he had pined for two women, and a man for a brief time.

“My heart doesn’t discriminate.” He decided with a soft blush. Eddie grinned.

“I feel you there.”

They stared at each other a long moment and Jason’s heart only raced faster, all too aware of it. Eddie offered him a dazzling smile. The show stopping kind.

“Maybe we should hang out. Properly. I’m pretty sure the little dude is already bragging to all his friends about his uber cool dad anyway.”

“I’m only ‘uber cool’ dad when you’re mentioned.” Jason clicked his tongue. Eddie smirked.

“Obviously. I’m the uber cool part, you’re the dad.”

Jason rolled his eyes with a shake of his head, trying to hide his smile. He was doing a poor job of it.

It took him thirty five years to realise he was asexual, but it took him thirty six to realise he was in love with Eddie Munson.

Go figure. The Lord really did work in mysterious ways, huh?