#and people saying they’re gonna stop listening to their music over this??

[trashabellanar]

I’ve been trying to put my finger on what’s been bothering me about all the backlash against the new masks, and I think it pretty much boils down to this —

Sleep Token: We’re a masked metal band with a creepy eldritch horror theme! Isn’t that fun?

Fans: Yeah!

Sleep Token: Great! Now we’re gonna wear masks that actually look creepy, like something out of a horror movie!

A shocking amount of fans: Uhhh…. No, not like that, this clearly isn’t your correct aesthetic, which we obviously understand better than you yourselves. Go back to the sleek minimalist look that we thought was hot

[oneforthemunny]

break the ice |hockey!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: a scheduling mishap leads you and eddie to meet. or how you and hockey!eddie's story begins lol.

contains: eddie au. fluff. that's it. happy one year!

The hiss of the puck gliding over the ice, skittering into the goal, skates whizzing to a stop. It was comforting to Eddie. He’d never really known what people meant when they’d say “get in the zone” growing up, until he started playing again, playing for real this time. It was easy to focus on the sounds, silence your brain by tricking it to listen to the claps of the stick on the ice, the pop of the puck soaring, the- 

“Skidamarink a dink, a dink. Skidamarink a doo.” 

A clean miss, startled by the sudden blaring of music from behind him. Skates wobbling, knees locking into place. Eddie turned, squinting towards the other end of the rink. 

“Hey, hey!” Eddie skated, shouting over the music- horrendous at that, what was this song? 

“Excuse me,” You looked up, adjusting the volume on your boom box. “Hey, uh, sorry this is a closed practice.” Eddie skated to you, hockey stick waving exaggeratedly behind him. 

“Yeah it is.” You nodded, head tilting to the side slightly. “Are you… here to drop off?” 

“What? No, no, I-” Eddie paused, brows furrowed at you lightly. “I- this is my practice.” 

“Your practice?” You repeated, pointing at the ice below you. 

“Yeah.” 

“You’re here for the Snowflakes?” 

“No, I play for-” Eddie shakes his head, hand running over his face. “Snowflakes? What-” 

“-The three to four year old class?” You press, brow raised, face contorted in what Eddie could only assume was your best judgment masking, though by the scrunch in your nose, it wasn’t working very well. “For ice skating lessons?” 

“Lessons? Sweetheart, c’mon, does it look like I need lessons?” Eddie grins, smug and sweet. His heart skips when you bite back a smile, lips twitching. “I’m- I rent out the time to practice.” 

“Oh,” You frown slightly. “I, uh, I did too.” 

“You know what, let me- let me just go ask Max.” Eddie flashes you a dazzling smile. “I’ll get it sorted out.” 

“You’re both right.” Max droned behind the desk, flipping through a magazine lazily. “Both of you have the slot for today.”

“What? Why-Why would Bobby book up both spots?” Eddie frowned. “That makes no fuckin’ sense. I’m here every Thursday-” 

Max huffed, snatching the scheduling paper off the back wall, slapping it on the desk. “Eddie Munson. Five to six-thirty. Left.” Her blue eyes raised in boredom. “That means, you’re on the left side.” 

“Left? This is- That’s fuckin’ ridiculous, Max, c’mon-” 

“-It’s Bobby.” Max rolled her eyes. “He’s trying to double book, make more money during the dead season. I don’t know what to tell you.” 

“So I have to practice with a bunch of fuckin’ kids running around?” Eddie huffs. “How the hell am I gonna do that? Huh? Do you hear the shit they’re playing in there?” Eddie throws a hand out towards the rink. “I’m already about to lose my mind.” 

“So get some ear plugs, Eddie, I don’t know.” Max huffed, throwing her hands up. “You know I can’t refund you, so either leave, or suck it up. I honestly don’t care, Munson, up to you.” 

Eddie’s tongue poked the inside of his cheek, rolling furiously. Bunch of kids skating all around him, screaming and shit, he’d never get anything done. 

Still, Eddie’s eyes wandered back to you. In your matching tracksuit, a powdery blue that seemed to shine even under the fluorescents of the rink. He supposed there could be worse people to share the ice with. He faced Tommy Raider again next season, and he’d rather be with a bunch of screaming toddlers anyday over him anyday. 

Besides, the kids weren’t so bad. The occasional screech or laughter when you’d have them do something silly. It was cute, honestly, Eddie decided, seeing these little kids wobble around on skates while you cooed enthusiastically at them. 

“Ok, my little flurries,” You grinned, cheeks aching from the amount of feigned enthusiasm you had to muster. “Next week we’re going to really work on our glide.” You pushed off dramatically, soaring a few spaces then stopping. 

It was so exaggerated, over the top and made the kids giggle; Eddie was sure he was in love. 

“So be sure to be practicing holding your arms way, way out!” You extended your arms, beaming at the few who mimicked you. “And I’ll see you all next week!” 

Eddie had spent the majority of the time practicing what he’d say to you, how he’d ask you out. A classic chat up line always worked at the bar, always helped him score. Still, his knees wobbled, tight and a little unsure as he skated over to you. 

You were waving goodbye to a student, stepping off to the bleachers to undo your own skates. “Hey,” Eddie’s voice cracked, wobbly and unsure in his throat, teeth clenching in a grimace.

You looked up, a tiny half smile in greeting. “Hi. Hope we didn’t bother you too much.” 

“What? No. No, no, no. No, you didn’t-” Eddie took a breath, heart hammering in his chest, ringing in his ears. “It was… Yeah, that was really fun to watch actually. The, uh, seeing the kids in their skates and shit. You’re-You’re really good with them, and, uh…” The fuck is that Munson? The fuck are you doing? Eddie’s mind raced, furiously. 

“Thanks.” You grinned, a wicked little smile that had Eddie’s cheeks flushing. He hadn’t felt like this in years. Felt like he was back in middle school, swooning any time Connie Donohue would swish her hair over her shoulder, letting it land on his desk and brush his hand. 

“They’re a fun age. Super sweet. Not like the asshole eight year olds.” Your finger curled under the untied laces, shimmying them loose. 

“Oh? Eight year olds, they're the asshole group?” Eddie grinned, leaning against the rink’s surface. He hoped you couldn’t tell how he was flexing, muscles protruding under the tight, black material of his shirt. 

“Total assholes. I had them last year, and that’s why I switched-” 

“-Excuse me?” A tiny squeak of a voice came from behind you. You turned, expecting one of your kids who had forgotten a mitten or jacket. 

“Are-Are you Eddie Munson?” The small boy with wide eyes gaped at Eddie. 

Eddie flushed, swallowing, eyes flickering to you. Your brows creasing, looking at the tiny boy then back at Eddie. “Yeah, yeah that’s me.” Eddie forced a smile, gripping the rink as he stepped onto the bleachers, settling on the ones across from you. 

“What’s your name, little man?” Eddie grinned. 

“Samuel.” The boy grinned, a little shyly. 

“Samuel, that’s a cool name. How old are you?” 

“Eight.” The boy beamed. 

Eddie’s eyes cut over to yours, lips twisting, fighting back a grin. You blushed, turning away from his glances, cheeks burning with heat you hoped he didn’t see. “Eight? That’s a… that’s a cool age, right?” 

“Right.” Samuel nodded. “I-I watch you all the time with my dad and my mom.” Samuel babbled in true kid fashion. “You’re my favorite hockey player.” 

“Me? No way, c’mon.” Eddie shook his head playfully. 

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re from Hawkins too.” Samuel nodded, matter of factly. “They said that on-on the TV one time when I was watching.” 

“Yeah, that’s right.” Eddie nodded. “Used to practice here when I was your age.” He nodded over towards the rink behind him. 

“We went one time to a game, and… and you lost a tooth!” Samuel giggled in true, eight year old asshole form. “The other guy knocked it out when-when you were fighting!” 

Eddie laughed, a howling of a cackle that bounced off the walls of the rink, over the hum of the electricity and heat in the stands.

You watched carefully, interest piqued. You knew he was good, you’d watched him practice, it was obvious he had skill. And the name did sound familiar, plastered across headlines and the local news, one of Hawkins’ very own made it big. 

Eddie signed Samuel’s jersey, left him scampering back to his awaiting parents with a triumphant grin. “What are the odds of that?” Eddie beamed, grinning ear to ear when he looked over at you. 

You laughed, knotting your own skates together, reaching for your snow boots. “I, uh, I didn’t realize you-you played for the… Played hockey.” 

“Yeah,” Eddie shrugged, inked hand running down his arm. You tried not to stare. “It’s alright, really. Not bad benefits, but work hours are a little crazy.” 

“Yeah?” You laughed lightly. “I would say so. Pretty demanding.” 

“Oh yeah. And you lose a tooth or two sometimes.” Eddie’s eyes cut to yours playfully, a dimpled grin that had your heart shooting with heat. 

“Yikes.” You sucked in a breath dramatically. “That seems brutal.” 

“You ever been?” Eddie asked, untying his own skates, letting the blade rest on the cement barrier in front of him. 

“To… what? A game?” 

“Yeah.” 

“No.” You shook your head. “Not, like, a real hockey game. Not… Not one of yours.” Your knee bounced nervously, a little unsure even in your own answer. 

“You should come.” Eddie shrugged cooly, hoping you couldn’t see the way his hands shook with adrenaline. “Come to the opener in a few weeks. I’ll get you tickets.” 

“What?” You laughed lightly. “You- No, you don’t even know my name, and you’re gonna get me tickets? Yeah, right.” You rolled your eyes at him. 

“Well, I was hoping I could get your name, maybe your number too.” Eddie’s lips pursed lightly. “Get to know you before the game. Can give you those tickets next time I see you. What do you think? You free Friday night? Saturday?” 

You blushed, looking down at your boots, fiddling with the laces to avoid his gaze. “Saturday. I don’t have to work.” You looked back at him. 

“Saturday it is.” Eddie beamed. 

You scrawled your name and number on the torn corner piece of the schedule. Eddie had snatched it and a pen from behind the desk, ignoring Max’s huffs of annoyance. He’d clutched it the whole way home, paper a little soft from the dampness of his sweaty hands. The tiny slip of paper was taped to his landline, staying there long after Eddie had memorized the number. In your pretty, loopy handwriting for Eddie to see each time he called you. 

[ajortga]

sweet pt.2

pairing: jenna ortega x fem reader

summary: jenna can't stop thinking about you, the coffee girl. she may or may not have asked you out on something her friends consider as a date.

word count: 3k+

read pt.1 here! sweet- part 1

It became sort of a habit for Jenna.

It would be music, think about you, eat, think about you, sleep, think about you, film, yay Jenna gets to see you!

Maybe she’s over exaggerating it, but at the same time she’s really not.

Jenna wasn’t the regular person to be a love bird. Head over heels for someone was barely something she was used to. Well sure she would pass some guys in the city or notice them on set and think, “Oh his hair is perfect” or “He’s kind of cute.” She’s dated a few guys, broke them off because they weren’t for her.

All of the guys only hung out with her knowing she was a celebrity, or she would really think they were the one, until they lost interest and treated her like some toy. She hated when they did that. In fact, she was disgusted by it so much that she didn’t even want to think of having a lasting relationship at all. She just had to find someone right for her.

-

“You’re awfully quiet,” Melissa nudges Jenna as they’re both in their Tara and Sam outfits.

Jenna hums, looking at the taller latina with a small roll of her eyes while their makeup is getting patched up, “Just hungry, I guess.”

She shifts in her seat, her earbuds in and waiting for this day to be over, she forgot an umbrella. Of course the forecast would show as non-stop rain the whole day with thunderstorms, she literally checked the day before and it said sunny.

“Well, we only have to shoot like, 5 scenes. You wanna go with Jas and Mason to the Italian place you like? On me.”

Tempting.

But Jenna’s mind has other plans. 

“I think I’m gonna drop by the coffee place next door, craving a latte you know?”

She sees the way Melissa’s face twitches upwards, almost as a confused yet searching look, “You don’t like coffee.”

“The shop changed my mind, Y/N recommended a latte that is actually really good.”

“Y/n you say?” And from Melissa’s sing-song voice, she knows what’s coming.

“Yes,” Jenna scoffs, she can feel her ears begin to heat up.

“I didn’t know you had a friend named Y/N.”

It’s a little quiet, the only noise is from Jenna’s half put in earbud, “I met her a couple days ago, she’s a barista that helps her parents run their coffee shop. Keeps the place cozy and organized.”

“So she’s a barista?”

“Yes,” Jenna replies, half distracted as she picks at her cuticles.

“Who helps run her parent’s coffee shop?”

“Yep.”

“Next door?”

“Uh huh.”

“You like her,” Melissa smirks, it’s not a question anymore.

“Yes-Wait what? No!” Jenna slaps Melissa’s arm, caught off guard.

Jenna hears her laugh, half-heartedly, “I’m just kidding, but you do seem out of it, are you thinking about her often?”

She shrugs, picking off skin that she just scratched.

“Well I think you are, you’re nervous.”

Now the daydreamer turns to face Melissa, “No I’m not, I just think she’s sweet and she’s someone that already brought me out of that introverted lookin’ shell when I first meet people.”

It was true. It’s like you two knew each other when you first met, she hopes you thought of her that way too. She hopes you’re thinking of her as much as she thinks about you everyday.

Melissa looks down at Jenna’s cuticles, then back up at her, “You’re thinking about her, you’ve been quiet today and don’t think I didn’t see what song you’re listening to. You never listen to love songs!”

“What?! I have not been listening to love songs!”

“Lover by Taylor Swift? Lingers by The Cranberries? About you by the 1975?  Dark Red by Steve Lacy??”

My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue

All's well that ends well to end up with you

Swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover

“I just have taken interest in love songs I guess, it’s spring anyways right?”

“Spring my ass! That is bullshit!” Jasmine chimes in, making Jenna flinch and turn to the corner where Jas was hiding.”

“What the fuck Jas.. Are you eavesdropping?” Jenna shrieks.

“I know when a girl likes a girl,” Jas rolls her eyes and immediately stands up from her squatting position, “Don’t think me and Mason didn’t see you texting someone that you named mY y/N OOoO La lAAaAa..”

Jasmine shuts up with a slipper slapped into her face.

“Just go ask her out or something,” Mason says, popping behind Jasmine and getting the second pair of slippers thrown to his stomach, making him yelp.

“I barely even know her,”

“And there's no difference, you barely fall in love, girl, love at first sight for you means that she’s the one. You know your priorities and she checks all of them. If not, you wouldn’t be listening to those dumb love songs.”

“Gotta agree Jenna, what about this, we’ll go to the Italian restaurant first, then we’ll leave you alone with her in the coffee shop, you come out and tell us how it goes.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you love us.”

“Ugh.”

-

The alfredo pasta was twirled from the fork Jenna was holding, eating as the cast of scream 6 giggled and talked during their lunch break. It was a big bowl of pasta to say the least, she shared it with the whole cast but she was eating it up like there was no tomorrow. She knew around this time she came to your cafe, she only came around two times, but if you didn’t see her on a Thursday in the afternoon, she can almost feel the disappointment you might feel. Or hopes you feel, Jenna’s wondering to herself if you even think of her.

“Oh she’s falling hard for this silly Y/N girl,” Jasmine whispers to Melissa, to which she agrees almost immediately.

“No I’m not,” Jenna blurts, placing down her fork.

Everyone in the table clicks their tongue, a few, “Oh come on” and “Liar!”

“Well you wouldn’t have responded, we’ve been talking to you for the past 5 minutes and you only jerk your head when you hear anything about her!” Jasmine groans, showing her hands if they would somehow present something.

She signals for the check, she quickly pays, and as soon as that happens her real life core four push her out of the restaurant and to the outside of the coffee shop, like parents.

“Go,” Jenna’s shoulder was pushed into the door and it was too late to go back as she heard the familiar bell ring.

“I hate you Jas,” her hands flip the 3 people giggling behind the foggy window behind her as she hears the voice she’s been thinking about the whole day.

“Jenna!” Your tiny figure pops out from the coffee bean machine, waving to her happily.

Cute, she thinks to herself. You’re so cute.

“Almost thought you wouldn’t come today,” you murmur, making Jenna shake her head.

“Just had some lunch with friends, but I couldn't miss out on coffee on Thursdays though.”

“Ah,” you hum, your eyes focused on the latte art you were working on.

The only noise is the r&b music and the small chatter that keeps the environment comforting. 

A small bunny was being created, pouring the creamer carefully. 

“You’re almost looking as tiny and cute as that bunny,” your co-worker, Matteo says, a few feet away from you.

A soft laugh erupts in your throat, rolling your eyes from his compliment, but thanking him nonetheless. Jenna doesn’t know if she’s feeling a strong pit of jealousy that sizzles beneath the back of her mind. Her eyes train on the boy, hazel eyes, brunette hair. 

“Okay okay, stop that,” you grumble, a small smile plastered on your face as you playfully nudge him to show your annoyance.

“Feisty,” he chides.

“The only thing I did differently today is that I curled my hair. You can barely see it in this ponytail,” one hand is pointing to your hair while the other keeps concentrating on the bunny.

“You’re also wearing a bow, your freckles are more visible, mmm,” he thinks for a moment, “Oh and,” he comes closer, whispering in your ear so only you can hear. Your body almost shivers from it, “You’re staring at a new coming regular and smiling like a weird teenager.”

You stop your latte art, groaning in frustration since you were caught by a coworker that also is a kind friend of yours.

“No I’m not, stop whispering in my ear and let me do my latte art,” you shove him away and continue to work on your bunny.

Jenna swallows the prickly feeling in her throat, feeling herself scowl at some guy who’s name tag seems to say, “Mat ear.” Maybe she should switch out acting with latte art for a day.

The bunny looks complete. 

And perfect, you exhale a breath from pride, slide the latte and call out the person’s order with a warm smile.

Then Jenna feels like a fool standing there because she just realized that she’s been staring at you making another person’s latte. Then you feel stupid for not sending someone over to serve her since you’re assuming that she wanted something.

“Sorry!” You apologize, smacking the top of your head as you lean across the countertop, “Hi Jenna, did you want something?” Jenna looks down at your lips for a moment, your teeth tugged on your bottom lip, then trails back up to the menu.

“No worries, I should’ve sat down, I just wanted to visit I guess. Sure. Um,” She doesn’t know what to get.

“Confused again huh?” You tease, looking at the menu then at the lattes. It makes her almost fan herself to know that you know she wants a latte today.

It takes a moment for you to think, “I don’t even think I put this up on our menu, but the other day when I was closing I tried a hazelnut caramel, you down to try that today?”

“That sounds pleasing, sure I’ll take that.”

“Okay, one hazelnut caramel!”

“Dude, I swear your cafe sells at least every pastry known to mankind. Those brownies and chocolate chip cookies look like it could make society salivatate.”

You laugh, “Thanks silly, I just experiment and make sure everyone in NYC can have a taste of home if they are from somewhere else. Sometimes I take my recipes from a past generation baking book, other times I just try baking from eyeing measurements.”

Jenna smiles at that, touching your hand with hers and pressing it down to the counter, “Well trust me, this is probably why you get a hell load of customers every morning.”

A light-hearted, non-forced, soft giggle comes from you, not moving your hand that is pressed from hers.

“As long as it makes others happy and continues a legacy while doing other things I love, and meeting sweet people that mark my memory like you, I think that I wouldn’t trade it. Did you want anything else?”

“I think that’s it today,” Jenna breathes, moving her hand away from yours. Immediately your hand misses the warmth and just wants to pull her back.

She can’t help but notice the smile plastered on your face, “Okay, hazelnut caramel coffee, on the house.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Nuh uh, not on my watch,” Jenna insists, pulling out a 10 dollar bill and immediately you shoo her away.

“On me! Honest! I own this place anyways and it happens at least twice everyday, don’t worry about it love.”

She hears a small “aww” come from her phone and she freezes, her cheeks heating up in an instant.

“I’m paying you one day,”

“If it’s banterings and consistent times that I see you besides Tuesdays and Thursdays, then okay,” your voice echoes as you begin to prepare her latte.

Jenna smiles at you and as soon as she turns around she picks up her phone and curses into it, “What the hell Jas? How the hell did you manage to call me before I got into the shop and stalk into our conversation??”

Snorts and laughs come from the other line, she immediately plugs her earphones in.

“On the house, hmm??” Mason teases, everyone in unison going “ooh la la..” 

“I’m going to chop your heads off-”

“And of course you place your hands on top of hers!! It’s like watching the corniest romance in front of my eyes!”

It had only been 5 minutes that Jenna had talked with you, and somehow she still got stuck and caught by her friends.

“Shut up,” Jenna says, her voice soft, but grumpily as she scoffs.

Melissa, Mason, and Mindy are shouting from outside, she can hear them screaming through the phone.

“Hey,” you say softly, bringing her latte with two wrapped pastries in hand and slide it to her front, “Try the brownies and cookies you were looking at and tell me what you think?”

Jenna wants to keep her cool and to smile politely, but the three crazy people outside that are listening in are making it hard. Especially with all the kissing noises she can hear, so she takes out her earbuds and tosses them in her hoodie’s pocket.

It takes her a while to realize she didn’t buy the pastries that made her hungry.

“Seriously?” 

The way your cheeks curved upwards and your nose scrunched as you smiled made Jenna smile on the spot there, “Seriously,” you assured. 

“I hate you for this,” she says playfully, sarcastically.

“Who can hate two free pastries? That’s a win for me,” you pull the chair out, sitting down as you take a small break, exhaling.

There was a cute cat design on the hazelnut caramel latte, the steaming, sweet bitterness scent that wafts in the air makes Jenna shiver. She plays with the wrapping of the chocolate chip cookie before mumbling a soft, “Thank you.”

“Mmmhm, no problem.”

There's a quiet pause, Jenna sips her latte, looking up at you and seeing you giggle. It’s sweet, light, bitter, and perfect.

You hand her a napkin, there's a small white foaming mustache from the creamer.

It takes a moment as she takes the napkin before you speak again, “So, filming mm? Is it stressful, you know, having to wake up early and doing stuff like that?”

“Honestly, there are days where it can be too much and I need to wind down a bit. But I love seeing cameras and doing something that I have the fortunate privilege of doing, I know a lot of people don’t have that and it makes me grateful.”

You hum in response, nodding, playing with the nape of your shirt.

“I used to want to act and direct,” you smile.

“Really? Why not now?”

Your shoulders shrug, “I still do small stuff, holding cameras, auditioning for stuff, it’s just a little harder since I’m working here and making sure I can continue doing, you know, this. But I love working here, it heals something in me.”

It makes Jenna feel almost bad, not in an overly guilty way. She just can’t fathom feeling pressured to do something instead of going the way you want.

“You have coworkers, you don’t have to be here everyday, you know?” She tilts her head.

Her eyes meet yours, and again she sees those doe eyes, with nothing but something to make her own self melt.

But I'm in so deep

You know, I'm such a fool for you

You got me wrapped around your finger

Do you have to let it linger? 

“I know, sometimes I’m afraid this place will go haywire.”

She giggles at that, then thinks for a moment, “You know, I get on set tomorrow at 11, which is later than most days. Do you wanna, you know, just come and look around? The directors and producers are the sweetest people I know and they don’t mind a plus one. I would like, show you around and you can reach out to some people.”

It’s silent, your face is thoughtful as you’re processing what she said.

“I’ll stick by your side the whole time we’re not filming, introduce you to the cast, as long as you don’t do anything silly, which I highly doubt you might.”

“Okay, I’ll have to check in with Matteo, ask him to bring his sister that comes in on Saturdays and switch it to tomorrow.”

The brunette feels her heart flipping and she nods, burying her face in her hands to try and stop the redness that is invading her cheeks.

You come back soon later, beginning to talk about the plan of the coffee shop tomorrow, but Jenna gets distracted, it’s hard seeing Jasmine blowing her breath on the window, making hearts, then wiping the fog and seeing the way all her friends are making dreamy gestures to mock her. They’re all dancing and she wants to flip them off.

“I’ll be there tomorrow, could you by, um any chance, pick me up? I usually walk here and get my car repaired.”

Oh fuck, Jenna thinks, because she get’s picked up by Jasmine and tomorrow Melissa and Mason will be joining, like they do twice a week. She wants to face palm, she can almost picture the way when you make conversation with her in the car tomorrow, she’ll see in the corner of her eye Mason batting his eyelashes and sticking his tongue out.

“Sure, if you’re okay with some of my crazy friends.”

“Tomorrow it is,” you say, waving and ruffling your hair before waving and walking back to work.

Jenna looks down at her earbuds and she completely forgot she didn’t end the call, she just stashed it away, she’s bearing what is to come, putting her earbuds back in.

“SHE’S ASKING HER OUT ON A DATE” (Mason)

“NO WAY” (Jas)

“SHE’S A FOOL” (Jas)

“SHE’S GOING TO GET EMBARRASSED TOMORROW.” (Jas)

Not to mention the way they are waving their hands outside, she can almost hear the screaming from here.

“There’s no way in hell you asked this sweet pretty girl to come on set tomorrow,” Melissa sing-songs.

“Paws off,” she grumbles.

“She wants her for herself, of course.”

“Shut up!”

[lovetorn]

tonight you are mine — xavier thorpe

Guitarist!Xavier x Fem!Reader

Summary: Enid invites you to a gig with her new band, which leads to a certain guitarist taking an immediate interest in you.

Warnings: a little suggestive, singing (yes, this is a warning), idk music

A/N: i love this one, and i hope you will too.

W/C: 2.6k

“I promise you’ll love them. They’re like brothers to me. Except for Ajax, of course.” Enid giggled. “This is gonna be awesome!” 

You smiled as she spoke over the sound of her pink Doc Martens slapping the concrete. Enid carried a tote bag full of what you didn’t know. All you had was your phone and a lip gloss tube, clueless as to why Enid insisted on taking so many belongings to the gig. 

Enid only joined her boyfriend’s band as a lead singer last month, and you hadn’t seen them perform yet. You had never met the other two original band members, only Ajax, as he and Enid were almost attached at the hip. Enid had you listen to some demos over the few weeks she had been a part of it all, and you were beyond proud of your best friend.

“I think there’ll be a huge turnout tonight. Xavier told his college friends, and Rowan invited his study group. I can’t wait to get out there,” Enid grabbed your arm, a wide grin on her lips. “Aren’t you so excited? I am. I want you to hear these songs so bad.” 

Your heart doubled in size as you listened. Enid was completely enamoured with the band despite only being in it for a short period, and you guessed that’s what made the boys so grateful to have her around—she was just as passionate as they were. 

You smiled brightly at her and nodded. “I’m so proud of you, E. Soon, I’ll be waiting hours to get front-row at your concerts.” Then you widened your eyes jokingly. “I’ll have to fight teenagers to get tickets!”  

Enid stopped you and turned toward you. She wore a giddy smile and shook her head. “You won’t be in line. You’ll be backstage. Duh.” Then she latched onto your other arm and shook your shoulders, both of you sharing the same elation, laughing together.

“Hey! What’re you girls doing?” A voice called from a car. You didn’t think Enid’s smile could get any bigger until she peeked around you to wave at her boyfriend. Ajax sat in his beat-up Subaru on the curb. Enid grabbed your hand and pulled you along toward the car. 

“Just discussing our future success,” She exclaimed, opening the passenger door and sliding in. You got in the backseat and watched as the couple shared a kiss. 

“Come on, at least wait until I’m out of the car.” You joked, covering your eyes. Ajax rolled his eyes and put his car in drive, pulling away from the sidewalk and back into the traffic. 

“It’s okay, baby; she’s just jealous. She hasn’t gotten with anyone for months.” Enid threw you a teasing look and a cheeky smile before returning her gaze to the road. Your mouth opened and closed, no words forming on your lips as Ajax laughed. 

You sighed obnoxiously and turned your attention to your phone. The pair in the front shared a few whispers before Ajax spoke.

“We’re sorry, Y/n. I bet there’ll be someone here tonight. There’s a lot of people coming.” He said, no hint of sarcasm in his tone. You met his eyes through the rearview mirror. “I know Xavier needs some, too, jeez!” 

Enid slapped her boyfriend on the shoulder. “No! I will not let him anywhere near my beautiful Y/n.” It was the first time since this morning that you’d heard her voice so serious. “She will not be his rebound.” 

“Yeah, I don’t want to be a rebound, Jax. But thanks, though.” You falsely smiled and looked out the window. The sun had started setting a half hour ago, and the sky was painted a deep tangerine. 

“Just saying! Ever since he broke up with Wednesday, he’s been so pissed off. Nearly had my head on a stick because I ordered tomatoes on his sandwich. He’s fucking crazy!” 

You had heard stories of Xavier, mostly from Enid. Tall, green-eyed, goofy, and sometimes timid. He intrigued you, yet you’d never seen him. 

“Okay, Y/n. Jax and I are going backstage for like 20 minutes. Will you be okay on your own? I don’t want to leave you alone, and I know you hate that.” Enid explained as the car pulled into a parking spot behind the small venue. 

You nodded in approval and got out of the car.  “Yeah, that’s fine, don’t worry about me. Go be a rockstar.” 

She gave you a grin and a hug. “I’ll dedicate ‘swoon’  to you.” Laughing, you pulled back. 

“I hope so. We wouldn’t want Ajax getting a big head.” 

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

You stood at the front of the crowd, securing the spot the moment you entered the doors of the building. As expected, the venue was packed. Knowing Enid was beyond ecstatic, you didn't doubt she was a little nervous. 

Your mouth was sticky from the fresh layer of lip gloss you applied not 2 minutes ago, and you moved your lips together to ensure it was evenly coated. You wiped the corners of your mouth with your fingertips, and a short cough rang through the room, indicating one of the band member's microphones was on. You looked up and noticed an unfamiliar set of eyes focused on you. Your gaze quickly darted away to notice Ajax already sitting at his place behind the drums and again to see another new face on the other side of the stage. The boy had glasses and held a bass guitar. All who was missing from the stage was Enid. 

Suddenly, the lights turned a deep purple, and the chords of ‘Monodrama’ started playing through the speakers. You looked back towards the first guy whose hair hung in his eyes as he plucked at his guitar strings, his body hunched over slightly. You watched him in curiosity and confusion. They were starting without Enid? 

But your question was soon answered when the ball of sunshine you called your best friend came running out on stage, a microphone up to her lips as she sang the first line. Your face broke out in a smile. As the song continued, you saw her become more comfortable in front of this many people. She pointed at you and jumped around. 

You nodded to the beat, mouthing the lyrics you knew before your eyes drifted to the long-haired electric guitarist. Xavier. As he played, his eyes met yours again. His dimples indented his face as he smirked, tongue poking his right cheek. You felt your face go warm, and soon, he leaned forward into his mic to join Enid on the chorus. You were in awe of how well their voices went together. He knew what he was doing and wasn’t afraid to show it. 

Xavier opened his eyes to see you already staring at him after the chorus. Shivers ran down his spine as he watched you sing the words to the song he wrote. Sure, many girls had done exactly what you were doing, but the difference was he knew who you were—Enid’s best friend. The girl who his bandmate never shut up about, and Xavier had been eager to meet you. He continued your minor stare-off, grinning smugly to himself when you broke the eye contact, a smile of your own pulling at your lips. 

The lights had turned blue throughout the song, highlighting Xavier's high cheekbones and long face. You had to force your eyes away from him to gain control over yourself.

Once the fourth song ended, Enid spoke to Xavier before she went backstage for a break. Her shoes were killing her. Four songs of jumping around. Four songs of a game of cat and mouse to play out between you and Xavier. One would look away when the other glanced in their direction, and only thrice had you caught each other staring.

You watched as Xavier walked up to the lead microphone, his converse only feet away from you. Expecting a new song to start, you kept your eyes on the bass drum to stop yourself from looking up at Xavier. You didn’t expect him to take a step forward and crouch in front of you. Your eyebrows raised when he held your gaze, his fingers moving in a lazy come hither motion. When you pushed onto your toes, he leaned down to your ear, his hot breath on your neck. His fingers tangled in the long strands of your hair as he pulled you closer, his fingertips scorching your scalp.

“Next one’s for you.” He said. His voice was so thick you’d think this throat was lined with honey, golden and sweet, and the crowd around you faded as your ears rang. Xavier pulled away from you and used his ring-clad finger to brush the tip of your nose. Your ears went hot, and you took a deep breath to control your racing heart.

The room turned green, and for a second, you thought you must've fallen into a dream. Xavier towered over you, his teeth pulling at his bottom lip as he adjusted the microphone stand, maintaining eye contact with you. It was a sensual moment that should only occur in the depths of the night in a bedroom. His dimples and devilish smile were the cause of the butterflies in your stomach, and you had never felt under such scrutiny. But it was an illusive feeling to be the focal point of his attention.

You knew the song as soon as Xavier started playing. Tonight You Are Mine. The sound brought you out of your daze. 

“This is a new song I wrote, like, last week,” Xavier said before the crowd cut him off. His soft laugh echoed through the room as the noise died down, his eyes finding yours again. “We’re gonna play it for you tonight if that’s okay?” 

Enid had given you the demo of this one only four days ago, as she said it was mandatory for you to hear it before tonight’s show. The song was one she was excited to learn, and who were you to deny her of sharing her passion? So you listened. And you listened, and listened, and told Enid it was your favourite one yet. And it was. The song was wholly sultry, and you found yourself going back to it each time you put your headphones on. She must’ve passed on the news. 

In a sense, I'm such a mess watching you The air is cold, so hard to breathe Still, your breath is all I see

You could hardly breathe when he looked at you like that, played his guitar, and sang intimate lyrics to you. You were utterly entranced by his voice, hands, smile. He looked ethereal on stage like he was destined to be on one. 

Don't be so naive You know that you are all I see

To your disappointment and relief, he broke eye contact with you only a few times—you weren’t sure how long you could stand under his intimidating and dizzying gaze. 

But, it only spurred you on more. It made you believe you also had some power in this uncharted territory. You watched him sing through your eyelashes, the rasp in his voice making you warm. 

So let me slip inside your ultraviolet disguise The daylight holds you close But tonight you are mine

Xavier’s eyes were heavy-lidded as he played through the guitar solo. He knew it was inevitable that he would have to face you after the show; sometimes, the thrill of performing made him cocky. He hoped you’d still like him when you discovered he was pretty reserved when he wasn’t in front of a crowd. Yet, none of his insecurities deterred him from wanting you. Because when you looked at him like that, he needed nothing more. 

After the song finished, Xavier winked at you, and you desperately needed to get out of the crowd, go outside, and fill your lungs with cool, fresh air that would free you from the irrational thoughts in your head. You didn’t know the guy, but still, you wanted him more than anything. 

Enid’s voice brought you back to earth. “Thank you for coming out tonight, everyone! I hope you had a good night and liked our music enough to come back.” She laughed. It was obvious everyone in the room had fallen in love with her personality throughout the night. Enid carried herself with such self-assurance it was difficult to find why you wouldn’t like her.

The only thing that could pull your eyes away from her grand smile was the burning on your cheek. Your eyes flickered to Xavier, who stood off to the side with his guitar. His hair was now tied back in a half-up style, and you swore your knees almost buckled.

As everyone filtered out, you remained in your spot. Enid came bounding over and jumped down to stand with you. “Did you have a good time?” You could see she was nervous to ask.

“Of course I did! And you played my favourite song,” You replied, grabbing her hand in reassurance. Enid smiled sheepishly. 

“Well, I didn’t play it. Someone else did.” 

“Well, someone told the other someone to play it, so.” 

Enid wiggled her eyebrows, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I saw how he was looking at you. I knew he would like you, who wouldn’t?” 

You rolled your eyes, heat rushing to your cheeks. 

“But, you’re still off-limits. Only until he gets over his ex. That wouldn’t be fair.” Enid rambled before she stopped and straightened up. “And that’s my cue to leave.”

You looked at her hesitantly, unsure why she would be saying that. “What?” 

“Bye, Y/n. Hey, Xav." Then she pointed him behind you. "Don't fuck this up."  You assumed he made a face at her from behind you because then she laughed and walked backstage.

You’d never felt your stomach drop and your heart rate speed up in such synchrony. He was the devil in converse and a white tee. 

“Y/n.” Your name on his lips was something you could get used to. 

“Xavier.” You said, turning to face him. 

“So you do know me.” He was taller than you. A lot taller than you assumed, and it made your legs weak. “I was under the impression that you only knew Ajax.” 

You shrugged. “Enid mentioned you a few times, so I had to come and check out these band guys she was hanging around.” 

“Final verdict?” Xavier’s mouth was pulled into a smile at the corners. 

You purposefully took your time to make a decision. Taking a step back, you sized him up. He stood still, arms crossed over his chest as you eyed his hair. You rubbed your chin in false thought and then nodded.

Feeling bold, you looked him in the eyes. “Yeah, you’re cute. And talented. So, I guessed you’re alright.” 

Xavier’s cheeks were dusted with pink as he laughed. You smiled proudly, pleased you got the reaction you’d wanted from him. 

He then moved closer to you and leaned down so his eyes aligned with yours. “Well, I find you alright too. How’d you feel if I asked you to hang out in about…” He twisted his mouth in thought, his eyes flickering down to your lips. “Half an hour?” 

You bit the inside of your lip in habit. “That would depend on what we would be doing.” 

Xavier stood to his full height with an unconcerned expression as he uncrossed his arms and opened himself to you. “Whatever you want. My treat.” 

You tilted your head, studying him. “Tempting.” His lopsided smirk and tired green eyes were too easy to fall for. “But, yes. I would like that.” 

His lips slipped into an easy grin and he nodded, throwing this thumb over his shoulder. “Sweet. I’ll be back in half an hour to take you on our date.” He winked.

You shook your head, laughing as he stepped up onto the stage. “Not a date!” 

Xavier didn’t turn back to face you as he replied. “We’ll see!” 

Were you in too deep too quick?

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

songs mentioned: - tonight you are mine - the technicolors - swoon - beach weather - monodrama - benches

feedback is greatly appreciated! thank you for reading <3

PART 2

[curtsbigspoon]

thoughts on how buck and bucky would end up kissing and/or hooking up for the first time? what would lead up to it, who would make the first move etc <3

I feel like it would have to be either after a rough mission, or a successful one.

First one could be that the grief and loss has worn everyone down, John and Gale are trying to understand their place in it all, to cope with the fact it could be one of them next. 

Gale is more reserved about his anxiety, doesn’t show it publicly, has to be a leader for everyone. John is more likely to get physically antsy, tries to find the positives in it all because he’s still got Gale. 

It feeds off on everyone, able to find hope despite their fears.

Gale’s never been more relieved at John’s glass half full type of energy, feeling less burdened by the weight of pressure.

But John confronts him one night, he’s a little more drunk than he should be, but it’s the only way to find his strength.

He crowds Gale against a wall, his lips pulled tight, pressing his forehead to their shoulder, bottom lip jutted out and trembling. 

Gale feels it then, what he’s been hiding, brings his hand to John’s shoulder and tries to rub him there reassuringly.

John voices his fears, lifts his head, Gale sees how wet they’ve grown. 

“It’s gonna be alright,” Gale murmurs, and he tries to smile, ducking his head slightly. “We’re gonna be alright.”

John swallows, feels a lot of things in the moment, isn’t sure what any of them are.

Not until he brings his hand up, cupping it again Gale’s cheek, surging forward to press their lips together in something that’s too messy, teeth clacking against one another, almost bumping noses.

But Gale doesn’t run from it, just stands there shocked, feels his eyes widen before John pulls away from him. 

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he whispers, but there’s no menace to his tone, no real rejection to back up his words.

John catches it, and he steps back, nodding his head. 

“Yeah, I shouldn’t have… Too bad I’m about to do it again anyways.”

Right well I should probably say now it wasn’t supposed to turn into that but, I’d feel bad ridding y’all of the extra content so I’ll let it stay.

The other option is much more cheerier!

They’re probably together in the hall, music’s blasting, people are dancing, John and Gale are at each other’s sides as always.

John’s especially taken by the thrill of it all, can’t stop smiling, finding ways to chime in with singing, or patting his comrades on the back whenever they walk back.

Gale’s just smiling, sometimes he grins a little more with teeth, feels the world sweep away from him. 

It might just be one night, but they’re making it his, they’re taking the victory and using it as means to inspire how successful the future could be. 

After all their hard work they deserve it.

John probably saunters back, hooks his arm around Gale, leans real close. 

“Come with me?”

“You need an escort now?”

“I might, you don’t want me wandering off on my own tonight, do you?”

Even though he tries to hold meaning to the theat, the smile spilling over his cheeks shows he’s just trying to get his way.

Gale gives into him anyways, follows him outside, lets him smoke his cigar and leans his head back against the wall to take in the stars.

The world feels at peace for a little while, no fights or fires above, just laughter and joy and beer.

John catches his gaze, follows it with a grin, nudges his arm into him.

“Don’t get too lost in the clouds, Gale. I need you down here with me.”

“I’m always down here with you.”

John laughs at that, thinks it’s the funniest, sighs and leans his head back to join Gale’s observations.

“I don’t plan on letting you go anywhere anytime soon, you can count on that.”

Gale laughs too, something easy and sweet.

John tilts his head towards the blond, leans close to murmur something, and Gale turns in time to catch their lips almost touching.

It stops them both, John’s lips parted and ready to usher words, Gale’s closed and ready to listen - but they split apart when they notice how close John is.

“I don’t plan on going anywhere,” Gale whispers, thinks it’ll spark them both back to normalcy. 

It doesn’t, if anything it halts John further in his tracks, and then his eyes dip.

Gale doesn’t have time to warn him not to be too hasty, to tell him he should move in case someone comes out and sees them so close. 

John’s lips on his force him into silence, everything else falls away, and his cheeks warm under the attention before he gently prods John back.

“Someone could have seen,” he warns, and something about it makes John smile.

Gale’s slightly appalled at his lack of consideration or care regarding the matter until John continues.

“Next time I’ll be more careful.”

Fuck. I ended up yapping again. Okay so I could honestly see it going different ways but I wound up writing two very specific scenarios, sorry bout that one. If you want different like perspectives in the future lemme know.

And, uh, hope you enjoyed??

[visionofhope04]

Hiii I was wondering if you could do Batfam x sister reader being Damian’s twin and rather than persuing the same thing as their dad and being a vigilante she becomes a famous singer (ya know famous name and good music) and she releases and album (maybe emails I can’t send idk something) and like family being there for her first sold out concert and yeah just supportive of her carrere

Angst is my thing but I’ll do my best to make this as fluffy as possible. Not beta read, sorry if there are any mistakes, feel free to let me know. Hope you like it!

—-

“Father?”

“Yes?” Bruce was concerned. You kept shifting your weight and fiddling with your fingers. He’s never seen you this nervous before. He tensed, preparing for the worst.

“Iwanttobeasinger.” You blurted, looking anywhere you could that wasn’t his face.

Bruce blinked. “Can you say that a bit slower please sweetheart?”

You took a steadying deep breath. “I want to be a singer.” You said significantly slower.

Bruce let out a deep breath and let his body sag. He’d never been religious but in that moment he thanked whatever was up there for helping him.

You looked at him, confused.

“I thought you were gonna ask to be a vigilante.”

Your face contorted in alarm. “Me? A vigilante? Never.”

He chuckled and then brought attention back to what you said. “So you want to be a singer? How do you plan on doing this?”

“Y-you don’t care?” You questioned in shock.

“Why would I care? You’re my daughter and I will always love and support you. I’m glad you found something you really enjoy and intend to make a career out of it. Finding something you enjoy doing is hard, being able to make a career out of it is harder. If it makes you happy then I’ll gladly help you with it if you need it.”

“Even though it’s a bad career?”

“Some people in it may be bad but it doesn’t make the career bad. Music is all about self expression and is a great outlet for emotions. It brings people together and makes them realize they’re not alone. I think you’ll be an amazing singer.”

You began to tear up but do your best to hold it back, “Thank you father.”

—-

“I want to be a singer.”

Immediately, everyone stopped talking and looked at you. You did your best to not shrink under the sudden attention. Usually, you never spoke at the dinner table, content to just listen.

“That sounds like a great idea Birdy!” Dick said.

“Lil sis’ gonna be the talk of the town.” Jason smirked at you.

“That’s great! I can’t wait to hear it! Tim exclaimed.

Damian’s reaction is the one you feared the most. He’d always disliked you leaving behind the life of fighting for a mundane one.

“I think that is a respectable profession.”

At your brothers’ approval, you broke out into a wide grin. Bruce was smiling openly at you all and wondered how he got so lucky to have such an amazing, supportive family.

---

You were backstage, makeup done, earpiece linked, and microphone ready to go. You were really nervous. This was going to be your first-ever live performance since you released your first album. It was such a hit, it became the number 1 album on the charts a few hours after release, with over 30 million streams. You were stuck in your thoughts when you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned to look at the person, it was your father.

"Don't be nervous, you're going to do great. I'm so proud of you. You're so talented and amazing. They're going to love you out there."

"Thanks dad." You smiled. His words warmed your heart. No one ever told you they were proud of you before. Despite what he said, you still felt a little nervous.

After waiting a bit more, it was time for you to get on stage. You heard cheering in the crowd as you emerged from the darkness. Now in the spotlight, your nerves came back tenfold. The bright lights blinded you, but you could still see the silhouettes of everyone who came to see you tonight. There were way more people here than you expected. You stepped up to the mic and adjusted it.

"Hello," The crowd's cheering picked up. You smiled and waited for it to quiet down before continuing. "thank you all for coming. I appreciate every single one of you. You made it possible for me to be standing here right now and I am so grateful. Enjoy the show!" The crowd's cheering picked up yet again as your first song came on.

---

You were so tired but so, so happy. The concert was a major success and nothing went wrong. You had so much fun getting to know your audience and calling people up on stage. You got backstage and your whole family was there.

"You did amazing!!"

"You're my new favorite singer."

"She's been my favorite singer, keep up."

"Your voice is unmatched, my dear girl."

"I knew you could do it."

"You were adequate, don't let the praise get to your head."

Your face hurt from grinning, and you could help but feel elated. Your family's support meant the world to you, and you were so grateful for it.

[thatgirlstrawberry]

Summer Sunkisses - Steve Harrington

In which Steve’s girlfriend meets the kids for the first time

Warnings:

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

not part of the upcoming Steve series

Y/N was beyond anxious. It would be her first time meeting Steve’s “children” that he claimed to be his own.

The school year had just ended for the high schoolers and he was throwing a pool party at his house. Pretty much everyone was invited. The kids, his friends who came home from college, he invited a few of Y/N’s friends too just in case she became too overwhelmed with all of the new people.

Now, she was standing in his room, a pink and orange floral bikini paired with her skin. She held one of Steve’s white buttons ups to use as a cover up between her fingers. The material was soft under her fingers but that feeling was ignored because of the stinging on her bottom lip. She’d torn off a piece of skin with her teeth. She was looking down at the pool where people sat along the edge with drinks and food. The younger kids all sat around two lawn chairs with their own food and drinks goofing off.

“Hey beautiful, you ready to go down?” Steve asked when he walked into the room.

She turned around and inhaled deeply. “Uh…” She bit her lip again.

Steve’s cheeks turned pink. “Oh, baby you’re just prettier than a rainbow.” She smiled and walked closer as he did. His arms wrapped around her middle and pulled her hips into him. “What’s the matter?” He asked after studying her face.

Y/N studied his right back, the freckles of summer dotting his cheeks. “What makes you think something’s wrong?”

He gave her a bored look. “I know you, honey. C’mon spill it.”

She let out a breath and closed her eyes. “I’m nervous to meet them.” Steve tilted his head and kissed her cheek.

“My friends? Baby, there’s nothin’ to be worried about.” He sweeped a piece of hair behind her ear.

She nodded. “No, Steve. The kids! You said that a few of them are really hard to get on their good side and I don’t know if you noticed but I’m a very awkward person when it comes to new people and they’re not gonna like me too much and”Steve’s smile made her stop rambling. “What?”

“You’re cute when you’re nervous.” He nodded. She rolled her eyes. “Listen, you’re perfect to me. And no doubt will the others think the same.”

The corners of her lips turned up as he softly grabbed her face and kissed her. He tasted like cherry popsicles and lemonade. “Now, come on. You’re awfully dry.” He chuckled. She smiled and let him take her hand to lead her out of the house.

When they got to the pool, the music was loud, the people were loud too. She smiled at the people who greeted Steve, they nodded at her, some introduced themselves.

Then they made there way over to where the kids were sitting. Her grip on Steve’s hand tightened and they all stopped what they were doing and looked up at the two. “Whoa.” The one who she assumed was Dustin breathed out.

Steve glared. “Henderson, I swear to God.” He shook his head. “Everyone this is my girlfriend, you’ve all heard—“

“Yeah, because you talk about her 25/8, Steve.” A girl with red hair, Max, spoke with a smile. She stood up and introduced herself. “I’m Max.” She held her hand out and Y/N shook it. She introduced herself properly.

The other girl smiled with her hand in Mike’s. “Hello, I’m El.” She looked at the boy next to her. “This is Mike, my boyfriend.”

She smiled and waved awkwardly. Will introduced himself with a soft smile. Lucas did too.

Dustin stood up, hands on his hips and a what he thought was charming smile. “I’m Dustin. I must say, I have no idea how Steve managed to woo you because you are gorgeous and look at him—“

“Yeah, you’re on paper thin ice, buddy.” Steve kissed his teeth. The girl next to him giggled and shook her head. “Anyway, you little shits have a good last day of school?” It was yesterday when they all became Sophomores.

They all nodded and they fell into a conversation and Steve mischievously looked around with a smirk on his face. His girlfriend was still talking to the kids. He noticed that she still had on his button up. He slowly took it off of her somehow without her noticing.

She then felt the burning heat of the sun on her shoulders and suddenly Steve’s arms wrapped around her waist and he lifted her off the ground. She squealed, a smile on her face as he neared the pool. “Oh, you’re gonna get it, Steve—“ She scream when he jumped into the pool with her held against him.

When she was submerged into the water, his grip never loosened. Once they stopped going down, she opened her eyes. The chlorine stung at first but she saw his blurry smile. In slow motion he leaned forward and kissed her. She didn’t care that her lungs were screaming for air.

Her legs wrapped around him as he swam up and broke the surface. The sound of the laughter and music started up again and she smoothed her wet hair back out of her face as she giggled. “You’re in trouble, mister.”

“What? I told you that you were awfully dry.” He shrugged with a sultry smirk. She rolled her eyes and gave him another kiss.

People all around whooped and hollered. Her face burned as she pulled away. “How hard was meeting the kids?” He asked.

She reluctantly shrugged. “It wasn’t.”

Steve nodded. “See, I told you. You’re perfect. They love you.”

She giggled. “Especially Dustin.”

“That little shit is gonna try to steal you from me before summer’s out I swear.”

—————————————————

Ahh okay something different! This is kinda nerve racking bc I haven’t ever written for Steve! I hope you liked this and let me know if you want more like this!

Also, the next chapter of Sick Surprise is in the works so don’t worry!

Taglist: @tuesday-yellowxx

@blue-willows

@montarella

@criminallymagic

@mermateyepmatewithte

@lipstixstain

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[mayariviolet]

Random AOT Headcanons - Modern AU

(ft. Eren, Connie, Sasha, and Jean)

summary: Stuff I couldn’t formulate into a coherent or long enough post. Kinda fluff? I just want them to be happy tbh🥺.

a/n: Mostly character traits for my fic temperance! 👀 But honestly, this is how I picture them in general. I’ve been missing my own story lately (even though I’m literally responsible for writing it💀).

Eren:

Addicted to those shitty mobile games. He’ll turn on airplane mode just so he doesn’t get stupid pop-up ads.

Since he’s an avid mobile gamer, if he’s out of whatever resource he needs, he’ll pay that $2.99 for a ‘booster pack’ or whatever.

Hates cilantro. Despises it. He gets lowkey mad when he sees it on his plate💀

Has those ‘Ken’-like senses whenever Mikasa needs him. He will drop whatever he is doing to save his girl!

If Mikasa is shopping at Aritzia- Eren will probably chill on the boyfriend couches or play with the arcade machine. Like I said before, since he has those ‘Ken’-like senses, he’ll immediately stop whatever he’s doing for Mikasa (she’s perfectly fine and just dropped her chapstick).

Listens to anything Metro Boomin produces. Also, listens to Mitski (Class of 2013 fs).

Connie:

His ringtone is ‘Gucci Flip Flops’ by Bhad Baby. It started off ironic just so he could piss Eren and Jean off, but he’s now one of her biggest stans.

He won’t stop playing ‘Gucci Flip Flops’ (while he’s in the shower, getting ready, cooking, etc.) to the point where Eren and Jean have threatened to evict him. Connie says they’re “Silencing female musicians” and continues playing the song.

HE IS A HOT GIRL! HE LOVES MEGAN THEE STALLION!

Likes to wear beanies in the winter.

Adds extra marshmallows in his hot chocolate☕️.

Has an extensive shoe collection (mainly Jordan’s).

Posts those: ‘Show younger you or a bad [insert month]’ templates on Instagram. (He genuinely believes that not posting it will curse him).

Sasha:

Avid Google Maps user. Only to find really good hole-in-the-wall restaurants, though.

Writes restaurant reviews on Google Maps for fun.

Gets mad when said restaurants become popular (my sister in Christ- you wrote the reviews telling people to go there…)

Her favourite music consists of Fleetwood Mac, TWICE, New Jeans and old country/blues.

She cries over those little Korean baby variety shows whenever she gets them on her for you page.

Always carries a packet of ketchup and hot sauce in her wallet.

She gets those ‘This was meant for you’ tarot card readings on TikTok and watches all the way through.

Sends those OBSCENE emoji chain mail text messages to Connie and Jean because it’s funny.

Jean:

Posts gym photos like a harlot.

Sends Connie those ‘Post younger you or bad month’ templates because it’s funny to see him get flustered…

He really likes pop-punk music and one direction (I don’t make the rules).

One time, he walked in on Connie and Sasha watching Ru Paul’s drag race, and he was being such a little shit disturber about it. Until he realized four hours had passed and he was already watching the Queens getting fitted for their final looks.

Rise and Grind- Chicken, rice and unseasoned broccoli mf… Until he got bored of prepping the same meals. He’s become a better cook because of it!

He and Connie love getting high and fucking around while baking those Betty Crocker cake mixes (funfetti or chocolate).

Jean’s favourite movie is The Big Short.

One time, he sat on a Nutella sandwich Connie left on the couch, and Eren accused him of shitting himself. Jean got so heated that they almost fist-fought until Armin had to mediate.

a/n: I’ve been procrastinating napping💀… I’m gonna do that now and work on my Geto fic… hehe…

[happilyfeatherafter]

Dean’s VOs in The Winchesters (season one!)

(LISTEN ALONG WITH AUDIO HERE)

Dean episode 1: 

( Ten Years After's "I'd Love to Change the World" ) ♪ ♪ 

March 23, 1972. The day Dad came home from the war, and the day he met Mom. Now I know this story might sound familiar, but I'm gonna put the pieces together in a way that just might surprise you. And in order to do that, I have to start all the way at the beginning. 

[END OF EPISODE]

What they didn't know is that the Akrida weren't just a threat to Earth, but to all of existence. Now, like I told you, there's gonna be some surprises. Hell, I'm still trying to find all the puzzle pieces myself. But I'll explain everything. And until then, I'll keep picking the music. 

♪ ♪ Spread them wide ♪ ♪ Rich or poor ♪ ♪ Them and us ♪ ♪ Stop the war ♪ 

Dean episode 2: 

( punchy, percussive music ) ♪ ♪  The ties that bind a family together can be complicated. Parents raise you, teach you what's right and wrong, and in some instances, how to kill monsters. But no matter who you are, there comes a time when you have to break from them and make your own way. And if you're not careful, things can get pretty ugly. 

Dean episode 3: 

( dramatic music ) ♪ ♪ ( screams ) ( sizzling ) ( growling )  There's no map to being a hunter. No playbook. You gotta follow your gut. But that can only take you so far. Truth is, you can't do it all on your own. You need other people to help guide the way... Your friends, your family. Otherwise you just end up lost. 

Dean episode 4: 

( eerie music ) ♪ ♪  Fighting the battle between good and evil isn't easy, especially when the first monster you have to face is the one inside yourself. ( soft dramatic music ) 

Dean episode 5: 

( dramatic music ) ♪ ♪ Spending a lifetime of hunting monsters takes its toll. There comes the time when you gotta let out that pain inside you. If you don't, it'll eat you alive. 

Dean episode 6: 

(Lata) I am centered. I am at peace. I create my own path, and I walk in it fearlessly. (end Lata)

Hunting has a way of changing a person. After a while, right, wrong, good, evil, they all start to look the same. And then it makes you start to wonder, "Who's really the monster here--them or me?" 

[END OF EPISODE]

Hunting's not for everyone. You have to be strong, stay sharp, make tough decisions, and it's not easy, But then again, the righteous things never are. 

Dean episode 7: 

( birds chirping ) Comes a time in every hunt when the fightin' starts. And the difference between winning and losing isn't whether you have the holy water, the wooden stake, or the silver bullet. It's whether you've got the grit to get the job done. (Mary on radio)

Dean episode 8:

(John Moran’s “Rebel”) ♪ ♪ Being a hunter, it means living a life of sacrifice-- not a lot of room for dreams. But you open your heart and get a little lucky, you'll find you gain more than you lose. ♪ ♪

Dean episode 9:

( mellow bluesy music ) ♪ ♪ This isn't how I saw things going when I pushed over that first domino. Thing is, I've had more than a few dances with free will and fate, but as my dad used to say, "Fate is what you make it."

Dean episode 10:

Hunting and happy endings don't usually mix, so when you get your chance, you got to ask yourself, "How far will I go to get it?"

Dean episode 11:

Being a Hunter means always being on the move, No matter how hard you plan, no matter how hard you work, at a certain point, we all run out of road. It's what we do with those crossroads that defines us.

Dean episode 12:

♪ ♪ ( carnival music resumes ) ♪ ♪ ( giggling manically ) ♪ ♪ ( shrill giggling ) ( whispering voices ) ( strange sounds ) 🤡🤡🤡

Hunting's a dishonest business. You gotta lie all the time about who you are and what you do. But the hardest lies aren't the ones you tell other people. They're the ones you tell yourself.

(Mary to John) Another day looking for this mystery man and still nothing. It's like this guy's a ghost. (End Mary to John).

Dean episode 13:

*RECORD SCRATCH* HE’S HERE!!!!! We’re going in universe baby.

(Opening scene, dramatic music ) ♪ ♪ 

Dean: John Winchester. 

John: Sir, can I help you? 

Dean: This is for you. 

John: Where did you get this? Who are--  [...] One ticket for Lawrence, Kansas. 

Ticket lady: Okay.

BOBBY, IT’S FREAKIN’ BOBBY!!!: We're not supposed to meddle with things, ya idjit!

Dean: You always said if I was gonna be stupid, I might as well be smart about it. 

Bobby: Yeah, that does sound about like me. We're not even supposed to be here. 

Dean: Come on, the letter was meant for him. I just, uh, you know, gave it a nudge. 

Bobby: You keep an eye on things here. I'm gonna get the damn cavalry. 

Dean: How you gonna do that? 

Bobby: I got no freaking idea. One last hunt, huh? 

Dean: One last hunt. ♪ ♪

[Insert finale including lots of chat about the ‘ruggedly handsome' mystery man here. For Akrida!Queen exposition science: You're here to talk about the man with no name...he was digging around in things that should have stayed buried. ... The Akrida. You see, our mysterious friend isn't from around here. There's only so much he could do. His hands were tied. Credit where it's due... he did manage to stay ahead of me for a while, but... I can assure you that he's not going to be a problem anymore. ... Well, there's this portal. You see--I'm sure you've heard of it. It's not quite up to code yet, but I managed to pry it open just enough to toss a certain someone and his car into it. No human can survive that gateway, so his body will be torn to shreds for centuries. Anyway, this, um... this old journal... it's all that's left of him.]

Back to the end of the show:

( electricity crackling ) ( engine revving ) ( engine revving ) ( dramatic music )  ♪ ♪ 

John: Mary! ... How did you guys survive? 

Dean (gestures at Baby): She kept Mary safe... me too. Of course, there's not a lot that can tear me apart. I'm already dead. I was stuck in the world between worlds, so I stayed close to that portal, and as soon as I saw baby come through, I hopped in and grabbed the wheel. 

Samuel: So who are you? 

Dean: I'm a Hunter, just like you. But I'm not from this Earth. 

Ada: And how did you get here? 

Dean: When I died, I made it to heaven. And she was waiting for me. So I went for a drive, and then I took a little detour. 

Latika: Through the multiverse. (Dean points ‘bingo’.)

Carlos: S-so what were you looking for? 

Dean: That's a good question, Carlos. I was looking for my family. See, I come from a long line of Hunters. I guess I was hoping that somewhere out there was an Earth that had a version where my family had a shot at a happy ending. When I was driving, I caught wind of the Akrida. Turns out that they were one of Chuck's last creations. 

Millie: Who's Chuck? 

Dean: God. It's a long story, but, uh... basically, he's a real dick. He left the Akrida behind to wipe out all of existence in case he failed. Well... he failed. Eventually the Akrida were going to make their way to my world, and I got family there, so I couldn't let that happen. 

John: T-the letter, why did you-- 

Dean: I took my little detour. The rules were simple. Don't mess with anything. Well... I gave it a little nudge. Thought it might need a little help. Looks like it worked out pretty well. So now that the Akrida are gone, you all can choose your own destiny. You can write your own story. 

Jack: And you can get back to yours. 

Dean: It's all right. It's all right. They're--they're with me. This is Bobby. That's Jack. They're family. Excuse me. You okay? 

Bobby: I told you I'd figure it out. Didn't say I wouldn't get us in more trouble. Look at 'em. Man, this is all kinds of weird... seeing Samuel with a full head of hair. 

Dean: Right? ( chuckles )

Jack (~~or is he?~~): Dean. 

Dean: Yeah. No, I know. I know, Jack. 

Jack: When I restored things, I wanted mankind to make their own fate. That meant no interference from on high, anywhere... no exceptions. 

Dean: I couldn't let our world get destroyed. Sam's still down there, okay? He deserves a good, long life. Hell, they all do. ( indistinct chatter ) So, if you want to cast me out of heaven... so be it. 

Bobby: If we're taking a vote, I'd say you give the guy another chance. 

Jack: There's always another case with you Hunters... even in death. Well... if you're going to meddle in things, finish what you started. After this... it's time to get around to the... "there'll be peace when you are done"... part of the song.

Dean to John: Listen, um... b-before I go... I want to give you two something. My dad... he, uh... Kept a Hunter's journal, looked just like this. I lived my whole life by that damn thing. Well, this is my Hunter's journal. So if you're gonna stay in this game... This will help guide you through it. 

John: Thank you. 

Dean to Mary: I know you're thinking about quitting Hunting. Believe me, I understand. But you need to do me one favor. Keep an eye out for a yellow-eyed demon. And if you even catch a hint of that son of a bitch... I need you to use this. 

Mary: Your family... did you ever find a version where they had a shot of a happy ending? 

Dean: I think I did. 

John: You never told us your name. 

Dean: Hetfield... James Hetfield. (Hetfield is the lead vocalist, rhythm guitarist, co-founder, and a primary songwriter of heavy metal band Metallica.)

( Nick Drake's "One of These Things First" ) ♪ ♪ (Dean, Bobby and Jack vanish with baby). 

Transcripts from: https://tvshowtranscripts.ourboard.org/viewforum.php?f=1550

[whositmcwhatsit]

AN: I'm so sorry this has taken so long, but it wouldn't have appeared at all without the cheerleading, suggestions, alphaing and nudging of @thatbanditqueen. Basically, it's all her fault, send complaints her way. As always, all feedback is welcome, encouraged and enjoyed. Previous Chapter Chapter 10: All the Silly Girls

Chancy almost immediately regretted refusing Joe’s offer to get her a hotel room, even more so when she got to the desolate airport and found out that she had to wait six hours to get any flight in the general direction of home.

It was very early in the morning and the smattering of people littering the lounge had all had their faces painted with the same expression of watery annoyance. She couldn’t sit, feeling her chest tighten as all the shaken pieces of the night settled down on her, so instead, she walked laps around the airport until the little news kiosk opened and she could distract herself with gossip magazines.

Gradually, life seemed to awaken. She watched work-minded people in suits appear and families with cameras around their necks corralling over-excited kids.

At some point, music started playing over the speakers and she grimaced as she heard the opening notes to “Suspicious Minds.” He was everywhere!

Not long before the flight was due to start boarding, a page came over the loudspeaker, calling her to the information desk. She wasn’t completely surprised, and she steeled herself as she made her way to the desk. A disinterested woman gestured to the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey Chancy, that you?” Charlie sounded hungover, his voice hoarse and cracked. She wondered if he had been dragged out of bed to make the call.

“What’s up, Charlie?”

“Aw, nothin’ much, darlin’. I’m gonna go ahead and send someone down to pick you up, alright?”

Chancy pulled the receiver back and looked at it as though it was crazy since she couldn’t do the same to Charlie himself.

“I think that’d make catching my flight a lot more difficult, Charlie.”

“Look now, I know something went down last night and I don’t know what exactly happened, but you know how these things go, Chance. It’ll turn out everything is a big misunderstanding and everyone got all heated for no reason.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so, not this time.”

“Come on back, darlin’ and we’ll sort this out.”

Chancy sighed and ran her fingers through her limp, tangled hair. The idea of grabbing a shower and collapsing into a bed did sound enticing, but all the rest…

“Did he put you up to this?”

“Mmhmm, I guess so,” he answered vaguely.

“And he’s there right now listening?”

“Uh huh. So, I’m gonna send Dick to pick you up-“

“I can’t come back, Charlie,” Chancy interjected. “It’s not that I’m mad. Well… no, I am, but I’ve got to have some pride, you know? The tour’s nearly done anyhow and he can probably fly someone in for the last few dates.” She forced a little laugh. “I heard there’s a tall blonde that’s eager for the job. Look, I gotta go, they’re saying we’re boarding.” She hung up as her voice started to sound strangled, her throat tightened and tears prickled at the back of her eyes.

When would she learn? When would the hurting stop? With any other repetitive injury, callouses formed to protect you, but not when it was the heart. That relied on you being smart enough to not keep making the same mistake over and over.

Standing at the gate, waiting in line to board, she noticed an older lady giving her a curious look that faded into disapproval. She glanced down at herself, still teetering on white chunky heels and wearing her white silk gown. She looked like the personification of the morning after, used and rejected. Her head was pounding, her mouth tasted disgusting, and her insides felt even worse.

After take-off, she asked the stewardess for a blanket and tried to sleep it off, but she couldn’t turn off her brain. It kept returning to the early days, when her relationship with Elvis had still been sweet and tinted by the rosy glow of first love. 

Shivering in her dress under the thin, cheap airplane blanket, Chancy thought about the old days and wondered whether dating Elvis had ever been simple, or if it only seemed that way.

Early Fall 1955

It was just before nine when there was a knock on the door. Alicia was laying prone on the couch, feet wiggling in the air as she read one of Chancy’s magazines, and Chancy cleaned up the mess from girls’ night with Margie and Barb. The girls always came over on Tuesday evenings because Grandma was out late at church with the woman’s club, and this reprieve gave the girls time and space to gossip and make plans without whispering or provoking Grandma’s tutting and lectures on virtue.

Chancy snatched up Margie’s sweater from the table, smiling to herself at her friend’s forgetfulness, and opened the door. Her face dropped in surprise as, instead of Margie, there was a tall, beautiful man in a pink sports jacket leaning against the door jamb.

“Hey baby, you gonna let me in?”

Chancy gasped and snatched his arm, yanking him through the door. Elvis laughed as they stumbled into the hallway and he practically fell against her. They kissed without thinking, like it was the natural next step. Chancy thought her body was just trained that way by now.

“When did you get home?” she asked when they finally broke apart, then smacked his shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” He laughed again, impossibly delighted with himself.

“Only got back this morning, we drove all night. Ain’t my baby happy to see her guy?” He buried his face in her neck and inhaled, making her squirm.

“Of course I’m happy to see you!” She grabbed him by the neck and kissed him hungrily, loving the way he turned so pliant as soon as she took charge. When they broke apart, they stood back and just drank in each other with their eyes. Then the forelock of his hair fell down, still slightly curly from that experimental permanent a few weeks ago and his eyes were a little shiny with those little creases on his high cheekbones that betrayed his exhaustion.

“You look tired,” she observed, lifting her hand to meet his as he reached for her.

“You sound like Mama. I slept all day, I’m fine. Came over to see if you wanted to go for a drive?”

“I can’t, Grandma’s out at a church meeting and I gotta watch Alicia.” His eyebrows lifted and his stance changed completely as soon as he realised they were unsupervised.

“Oh, okay.” He tightened his fingers around hers and led her back into her own house. 

In the living room, Alicia was still deeply engrossed in her article on Jimmy Dean. Elvis turned to Chancy and put his finger to his lips and tiptoed over to the sofa like he was a character in a cartoon.

“What are you doing reading that, young lady?!” He snatched the magazine from her, and Alicia shrieked high and loud enough to rouse every dog in the city. This was, of course, hilarious to Elvis, who almost fell down, he was laughing so hard. Every time he managed to straighten himself up, he would look at Alicia’s indignant face and start himself off again.

Chancy snatched the magazine from him and smacked him across the back with it, inviting Alicia to come help her fetch some drinks and offering her a cookie to smooth her ruffled feathers.

“Aw, I’m sorry, Lil’un,” Elvis said, squeezing the nine-year-old into his side with his arm around her shoulders. “You know I was just fooling around. You ain’t sore, are ya? Not with your little old Elvis?” He pouted his luscious lips and Alicia relented, smiling around the cookie. “I knew you couldn’t stand to be mad at me for long, you’re just like your sister.” He winked at Chancy, who tried to roll her eyes but her pink cheeks and growing smile gave her away.

Back on the sofa, Chancy couldn’t help looking at him and grinning. It felt a little like Christmas having him home finally and all to herself. Almost.

“You know, some of the girls were talking about you at school the other day,” Alicia informed Elvis. “They were saying that you were the most and that you were gonna be more famous than Pat Boone. Then Frannie in my gym class said that you were dating her sister, but Kathy Jean said that you were dating her cousin.”

“Heck, no wonder I’m tired,” Elvis remarked. “And what d’you say to all that, honey?”

“Well, Chancy said I’m not allowed to talk about you two being steadies and that you’re gonna get married. She said it’s private.” Alicia pulled a face that showed exactly what she thought about that.

“Naw, you can set ‘em straight, honey, You tell ‘em I only have one sweetheart.” He dipped his head down to kiss Chancy’s cheek, nuzzling down to her neck with the tip of his nose. She could feel his arm tighten around her as he pulled her against him and she had to nudge him in the side with her elbow to get him to pull back. He sighed slightly and turned back at Alicia, who was looking at them with an expression of fascination.

“Are you really gonna be more famous than Pat Boone?”

“Well, I hope to.”

“Are you rich?”

“Hmm, not yet, but hope to be.”

“Will you move to Hollywood and live in a mansion with palm trees and a swimming pool?”

“Well, maybe I’ll get my own swimming pool right here, what d’ya say?” He gave Chancy a soft smile and she rested her arm on his leg, feeling the tense muscle of his thigh against her forearm as he jiggled it constantly. Even worn out he couldn’t stop moving.

“What about tennis courts?” Alicia continued.

“Wait a minute, are you a reporter?” he asked, squinting at her with playful suspicion. “What’s with all the questions?” 

Alicia shrugged and finished her drink, her eyes studying him intently. There was obviously more of an interrogation coming.

“Elvis, can I live with you guys when you marry my sister?”

Elvis grinned, his fingers twitching against Chancy’s shoulder. He adjusted his hand so that they were brushing her neck, his thumb tickling from her ear down to her shoulder and back again.

“Hey, I thought it was you and me getting married, Lil’un?! Wait, is this you breaking up with me? Wow, way to let a guy down easy!” His voice was high and playful as he reached over and tugged one of Alicia’s plaits.

“I’m only nine!” she returned, frowning at him like he was crazy. He tilted his head and nodded at this as though this was a serious consideration, though his eyes were glittering. “You’ll have to wait and I guess I can marry you next.”

Elvis threw his head back and roared with laughter, his breath hitching as he collapsed against Chancy. “Oh Lord, you got it all worked out, don’tcha!”

Chancy rolled her eyes at the two of them and pointedly told Alicia that it was time for bed.

“She’s a gas,” Elvis remarked, already twisting on the sofa and clasping Chancy’s face, kissing her softly and then harder like he was trying to check she was really there. Chancy didn’t answer, sliding her arms underneath his and pulling him in tighter. It was never enough, she could never hold him tight enough to keep him still and keep him with her, but she could also never stop trying.

“You know, I was dreaming about you earlier today, honey.” He pulled back and looked down at her, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded.

“No, you weren’t.” She could feel her cheeks throbbing and she shifted a little closer to him.

“Don’t tell me what I was or weren’t doing,” he retorted. “I’m telling you right now, I dreamed about you. I know it was you, baby.” 

“How?” she countered. “How’d you know it was me and not one of those pretty girls you met on the road?”

“’Cause I don’t dream about no girls on the road,” he muttered scornfully. He tugged her hand, almost pulling her face first into his chest. “Look at this here hand, this itty bitty hand was for sure in my dream.”

He leant down and kissed the first knuckle of her index finger and she inhaled sharply. She caught the sparkle in his eyes as he looked up at her through his brows and felt his lips stretch against her skin into a smirk. He kissed her finger on the next knuckle, his breath tickling her skin. She pressed her thighs together as he leaned in, his other hand gripping her hip through her skirt.

“What else,” she whispered.

“Hmm?”

“What else was in your dream?”

“Oh. Well… I don’t know if I should say.” Chancy blushed as he placed her hand on her lap and stretched his arm out, his calloused fingertips finding her ankle and dragging up her calf.

“You been good while I was gone?” he murmured. His finger slid in a swoop around her calf muscle, which tensed and twitched, and into the dip at the back of her knee. “Ain’t been doing nothing that’ll break my poor ole heart now, have you?” There was a hard backbone to his playful babyish tone that told her he wasn’t fooling around, supported by over a year of hard-won experience.

“Now Elvis you know what category they’re looking to vote me in the yearbook next year, don’t you?” she returned in the same tone. “It’s a new one. ‘Most likely to die an old maid waiting for Elvis Presley to marry her’. But let me tell you, there’s stiff competition.”

He gave a little laugh that sounded slightly sheepish. “Now, you know that ain’t true.”

“It is too true! I see those girls in the papers just like everybody else.”

“You know that’s all for publicity, baby, it’s all made up!” He was playing up his ‘aw shucks shy boy’ act, maybe too tired to remember that Chancy saw through it like a window pane.

“Yeah, I know I know,” she muttered, sounding unconvinced.

Elvis didn’t seem to realise that she was older now, a mature woman of seventeen, and she talked with the girls at school, who were dating boys off doing their duty in the service, or at college. They all talked about how boys were different, weaker and more helpless against their urges. A girl had to accept that a man’s eye may stray when he was away, it was natural, but it was important that he was true in the ways that mattered, in his heart. Her friend Margie had even brought in a dime store book about love gone awry from tawdry affairs.They had to keep it hidden because it had a picture of a woman in just her slip reclining against a desk with her suited boss looking like he was about to make an advance.

But Chancy didn’t need books. As a child, she had witnessed the pain it caused a woman when she had a man that wasn’t true to her. She had seen the bitterness that had sprung from her mother’s humiliation, the poison that fermented and seeped into every aspect of their lives. She had promised herself she would never end up like that.

“Come on now,” Elvis cajoled. He softly sang a few lines of Patti Page’s ‘Why Don’t You Believe Me’: “How else can I tell you, What more can I do, Why don't you believe me, I love only you.”

At the final sweet note, she smacked him in the chest, making him turn it into a wheezy groan.

“That ain’t fair!” she told him, half-seriously. “You know you win every time you do that!”

He laughed in a knowing way, before gritting his teeth and grabbing her by the biceps to give her a quick shake.

“You gotta believe me though, honey” he said in a flat voice, a jarring change of tone to his abrupt ‘attack’. “I ain’t dreaming of no other girls and certainly ain’t loving ‘em, nothing like that.” She felt him slide his fingers between hers and pull her closer for a kiss and she sank willingly. They barely heard the rattling of the door.

“I’m home! Whose car is that out front?”

By the time that Chancy’s grandma had shed her coat and purse and come into the living room, they were both standing up straight in the living room looking incredibly guilty. Chancy could almost feel the pressure of her grandmother’s eyes as she checked their clothes to ensure they didn’t look rumpled or hastily buttoned.

“Elvis, it’s good to see you, son. I didn’t know you were back.”

“It’s good to see you too, Grammy. Well, I- I just got back today, it was supposed to be something of a surprise you see. I didn’t let on to nobody that I was coming.” He awkwardly clasped his hands together at his groin, glanced down at himself and then hastily put them behind his back. 

Chancy bit down on a smile. The man could play to huge crowds but he still got nervous facing a tiny grey-haired lady.

“I bet your mother sure was pleased to see you. Give her my regards, won’t you?” There was a long pause as they registered the polite eviction notice.

“Oh, yes, ma’am.” He nodded with the entire top half of his body and turned to Chancy. “I-I guess I’ll be going then. It was nice to see you, ma’am.”

Chancy started to lead him to the front door, and as soon as they reached the hallway he sped up and pressed himself against her back, his large hand splayed against her belly. Chancy exhaled loudly.

“Is that your car out front, Elvis?” They broke apart as Grandma decided to accompany them to the front door.

“Yes, ma’am, that’s the love of my life right there.” Chancy glanced over her shoulder and shot him a playfully indignant look and he shrugged, his expression seemed to suggest that he had no control over what he was saying. “I mean, yes, it is.”

“Well, it’s very fine.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

Both he and Chancy stood awkwardly on the doorstep,it looked as though Grandma was going to play spectator while they said goodbye, but after warning him to drive safely, she went back into the house.

Chancy tilted her head and gave him an apologetic look. “Will I see you tomorrow?”

“Baby, can’t you come for a drive?” he whispered, grabbing her hips and pulling like he was going to bundle her into the car no matter what she said. “It’s still early.”

“You know I want to, honey, but…”

He hurried forward and stepped up onto the doorjamb with her, crushing her mouth and her body against him.

“You’re going to drive me crazy, you know that. Just flat out insane.”

“You’re already certifiable,” she returned, linking her hands behind his neck and rumpling his upturned collar.

“Well, you know what a crazy person’d do?” He scooped her up and turned as if he was about to take off with her. “You’re so little I could hide you in the glove compartment. No one’d know.”

“I think that if you tried that Grandma would make sure you ended up locked in your own trunk.” He sighed, nodding in acknowledgement, and released her so that she was standing on her own two feet.

“One day, Cha Cha, one day…” He squeezed her cheeks, gritting his teeth as he looked at her squashed pout, before kissing it. She could feel the tension thrumming through him.

“I know,” she sighed. She gave him one last, sweet long kiss and fixed his collar. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you.”

He climbed into his car, still looking pouty and sad. It made her heart ache. “I love you, love you, love you. Really, I love you, baby.”

Chancy watched the pink and black Cadillac disappear down the street, smoothing the front of her skirt and trying to will down the frustration, hunger and sadness that were coursing through her. She reminded herself that she loved her grandmother and didn’t want to strangle her. Likewise her sister. She could wait until tomorrow. After all, they had forever.

The present

By the time Chancy finally saw her sister and niece at the arrival gate, she had spent the majority of the day on planes, waiting for planes, or getting on and off them. She forced herself to show a little enthusiasm as she came down the tunnel, ignoring the way that her shoes were rubbing the backs of her heels.

Alicia took one look at her and seemed to size up the situation even if she didn’t understand it. She grabbed Chancy’s bag from her and turned to lead her out. Four-year-old Faye was excited to see what present Auntie Chancy had brought back from her vacation and Chancy was quick to pull out the candy and teddy bear she had grabbed from the airport gift shop during her last layover.

In the car, Alicia finally gave in to her curiosity.

“You know, when I couldn’t get a hold of you the past couple of weeks I imagined some pretty wild things, but joining the Rockettes was not one of them.”

“Did it take you all the time from the gate to just now to think of that one?”

“Well, I was gonna go with Vegas showgirl, but I kinda wanted to say ‘Rockettes’.”

Chancy smiled in spite of herself. “Look, I’m sorry about not calling. It just got a little crazy on the road and I lost track of time.”

“Yeah, that’s what Elvis said.”

“What?”

“Elvis. He called me- When was it- the day before yesterday and I was so surprised I thought someone was pulling my leg at first. You know, in all the time I’ve known him I don’t think he’s ever called me personally.”

“What did he want?”

“Well, I’d been calling all over trying to reach you and no goddamn soul at any one of the hotels said they had a record of you having a room. I mean, they wouldn’t even confirm that Elvis was staying there. Lord, Grandma might have had one of her headaches if she’d heard the way I spoke to some of the receptionists on the phone.

“Anyway, out of the blue, Elvis called and he was teasing me like he always does, saying that I’d hassled the front desk so much that they’d told Joe he should call the FBI because I was a crazed stalker. And he knew it must be me because I’d been in love with him since I was seven years old.”

Even in the retelling, Alicia was absently touching her face and had two spots of colour on her cheeks.

“So that’s it, he called you because you upset the hotel?”

“Oh, no, so we caught up. Boy, I always forget how funny he can be. Then he says that Joe will give me the details of how to reach his room whenever I needed to. I said that was sweet of him and I was honoured and all, but I really needed the number of your room because I needed to speak to you.”

Chancy felt her stomach start to sink.

“Well then he couldn’t get me off the phone quick enough. He said he’d get you to call me and he hung up on me!”

So, he had known that she hadn’t told anyone about the two of them. She imagined that had not gone down well. She wondered how much that had fed into what he had done, but the truth was that trying to follow Elvis’ logic was like chasing a raindrop down a window.

“I was kidding about the Rockettes, but you’re okay, right?” Alicia shot her a sideways glance as she negotiated traffic. “You look-“

“Like I’ve been catching planes since the early hours of this morning? Yeah, I know. It was just one of those things, you know how it goes.”

It wasn’t the first time that Chancy and Elvis had fallen out. It was not even the first time that she had argued with him and caught the next flight home, but it felt different this time. It was different. And in the days afterwards, it felt like she was recovering, beaten up and healing, from a terrible accident or an operation.

It must have seemed that way to others too, because Grandma kept making her ambrosia salad and serving up extra portions of food at every meal, and Alicia gave her a free cut and blow dry which was usually reserved for first dates and birthdays. It made Chancy think she must seem really pitiful, but nobody actually said anything or pressed her for details, because that was not how things operated in her family.

“Tell the truth, Grandma, were you surprised?” Chancy asked as Alicia’s new boyfriend Cliff navigated around the potholes marking the unmade road to their house in the failing light. It was a week later, and Chancy had finally begun to feel somewhat normal again. At least physically.

Her grandmother gave a demure smile and replied, “Of course I was, it was a lovely surprise.”

Chancy had been dubious about the idea of a surprise birthday party when Alicia had suggested it. Celebrating someone living all the way to eighty by taking them to a strange place in the dark and yelling ‘Surprise’ at them unexpectedly seemed a recipe for disaster, but she had to concede Alicia’s point, the lady did deserve to be spoiled.

Organising the party had been a decent distraction for Chancy too, though not as taxing as she had hoped. She still had far too much time to think. Little by little, she came to view the time on tour as a strange waking dream, an answer to the ‘what-ifs’ and the daydreams that floated up on random, dreary days. It was proof that you could never go back. She tried to tell herself, as optimistically as she could manage, that it had been a conclusion added fifteen years after the fact. A fitting conclusion that reaffirmed that she had made the right choice leaving for once and for all.

And then she saw the fleet of Cadillacs in the dirt driveway in front of the old ranch house.

Well, shit, her brain supplied helpfully.

“What’s all this?” asked Grandma. “Not another surprise?”

“Uh, not just for you, Grandma,” Alicia replied, glancing curiously at Chancy, who was trying to sink down in her seat.

“There’s gotta be nearly fifty thousand dollars’ worth of cars out there,” Cliff marvelled, peering through his windshield. “Lord almighty, what is that?!”

“That is a Stutz Blackhawk,” Chancy informed him. “And the last thing I wanted to see today.”

“God, it’s a beauty!” Cliff barely put on the parking brake before he was out of the truck and circling the car.

Sonny was leaning against one of the Cadillacs smoking and he nodded at Chancy as she climbed out of the truck and turned to help Grandma down from the step.

“He ain’t gonna shoot me for looking, is he?” Cliff asked, pausing his circling as he noticed the shoulder holsters.

“Probably best not to try and find out,” Chancy replied, ducking her head to hide her smirk as Cliff’s panicked expression.

Opening the front door, they followed the noise to the kitchen where Elvis, his cousin Billy, Charlie and the whole contingent of Stanley boys were sitting at their kitchen table apparently drinking coffee with their housekeeper/tenant Ruth and her husband, Harold.

“Surprise,” Alicia trilled awkwardly under her breath, shrugging in answer to Chancy’s questioning look.

“Hey, there she is!” Elvis observed with playful exasperation like they were late to an appointment. “Happy birthday, Grammy!” He rose from his chair and circled the table to give Grandma a hug.

If Cliff had been astounded by the cash value of the automobiles parked outside, Chancy could only imagine his wonder at the amount of twenty-four karat gold standing in the kitchen.

 Always one to dress for an occasion, Elvis was wearing a cream suit with a blue silk shirt and a gold ring on every single finger, not to mention a twisted gold necklace that looked like a bolero tie and his usual ID bracelet. Just one of the rings on his fingers could have paid the property taxes and resurfaced their driveway with a new kitchen bought with the leftovers.

“Thank you, it’s lovely to see you, Elvis… and friends,” Grandma said pointedly, but Elvis was too busy kissing Alicia’s cheek and meeting little Faye to hear or respond to the polite prompt.

“By God, this family makes pretty girls, don’t it, Charlie?” he marvelled, glancing over his shoulder at Charlie, who was quick to pick up the cue and concur enthusiastically. Chancy was only surprised he didn’t do it in harmony.

She only had a second to panic when Elvis turned to her, wondering if he would skip her altogether or, worse, say something, before he smoothly pecked her cheek with his soft lips and withdrew, leaving her in a mist of confusion and his cologne.

“Now, Grammy, I got you a gift,” Elvis said in his serious ‘about to recite a psalm or overwhelm you with information about his latest fascination’ voice. “But I couldn’t get the guy to deliver it sooner than tomorrow. Something about unions and overtime. So, just so I didn’t show up empty-handed, you see the white Cadillac out front?” He adjusted his sunglasses and hung a keychain from his index finger, gently bringing up Grandma’s hand so that he could drop it into her palm. “It’s yours.”

Grandma put an overwhelmed hand on top of her head like she was actively trying to stop him from blowing her mind.

“Look here, Elvis, you can’t be throwing your money away on an old woman like me…” 

Elvis laughed, his face breaking into that dazzling, irrepressible expression that you couldn’t help but try to mirror, and squeezed her into his side.

“‘It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of God’, you know that one, don’t you?” he murmured down to her ear.

“Matthew 19:24,” Grandma nodded solemnly. “Amen.”

“Besides, pretty lady like you needs a fancy car to go on all her dates in style.”

Chancy beamed as she watched her grandmother flush pink and regress about sixty years as she swatted at his arm.

“C’mon, Grandma, let’s go take a look at your new car,” Alicia suggested, sending Chancy a meaningful look. Though Chancy wasn’t sure what the meaning actually was.

Everyone followed and stood on the porch as the tiny old lady primly perched in the extravagant boat of a car. Somehow, Chancy found herself standing next to Elvis though she had been forcing herself not to look at him except when everyone else was. Which was most of the time, but it felt like a compromise.

“This is really nice of you,” she murmured. He didn’t say anything at first, smiling slightly as Alicia tried to enthusiastically strong-arm Grandma into turning over the engine.

“She deserves it,” he said softly. “And, well, she’s the reason you-“ He couldn’t seem to finish the thought, gesturing to her head to toe with a bejewelled hand.

The pressure grew the longer they stood there and Chancy’s thoughts started yammering louder and louder at the wall of her skull. She wondered if she should say something, try to explain maybe why she never told anyone about the two of them, apologise for running off (no), tell him that she missed him? She could ask him how the rest of the tour went, that seemed relatively innocuous, or was it..

Eventually, he grabbed her hand, shooting her a smile that had her questioning whether they had ever argued at all.

“C’mon, let’s go take the birthday girl for a ride in her new car.”

Not giving anyone the chance to make a choice, Elvis had Chancy and her grandmother crammed into the front seat beside him and Alicia and some of the guys piled in the back before he took off down the uneven drive, laughing uproariously as he turned a ten-thousand dollar car into a pretty effective fairground ride.

As they hit the highway, Chancy fretted over her grandmother’s ability to recover from shock for the second time that evening as Elvis had them going like he was trying to break a record.

“I think Grandma would like to celebrate another birthday next year, Elvis. I’m pretty sure we all would!” Chancy said nervously, watching the speed gauge creeping up relentlessly. He shot her a gleeful grin and lifted his eyebrows behind his sunglasses, making her wonder how much he could actually see out of those at night.

“You don’t trust me, honey?” he asked. He shrugged. “You’re probably right, you should take over…” He lifted his hands off the wheel and there was a chorus of cries and pleas which only tickled him more, but at last he took control of the car again. Chancy closed her eyes and exhaled and she felt his warm hand grip her knee.

“Hey,” he murmured softly. “I got ya. You okay?” She nodded, earning herself a lopsided smile and his fingers rubbing the inside of her knee.

Back at the house, they all tumbled out of the car like sailors returning home after months at sea. The guys played this up a little because they knew that it amused Elvis, but Alicia and Grandma were genuine as they linked arms to walk to the porch.

Chancy watched them through the windshield as Elvis continued to grip her knee; not hard enough to force her to stay, but firm enough that she didn’t feel right pulling away.

“How long are you home?” she asked, watching him fiddling with the radio, catching snatches of songs before dismissing them and moving on.

“Couple of weeks. Then I got rehearsals in LA before Vegas.” He frowned as the airwaves were filled with the sound of electric guitars riffing and abruptly shut off the radio. “Goddamn caterwauling. Who in the hell is that?” She looked up in the direction of his irritated nod to see Cliff peering into the passenger window of the Stutz.

“Oh, that’s Alicia’s boyfriend. Although I think he may be considering leaving her for your car…”

“Boyfriend, but I thought she got married. I mean, the kid and everything.”

“Yeah, it didn’t work out. They got divorced last year.”

“Hmm, lot of that going around…” He considered his right hand around her knee, before tapping her a few times with his thumb. “Well, guess I better go check him out.”

“Oh no,” Chancy murmured, before hastily following Elvis out of the car. She passed the men as Elvis, backed up by a couple of his guys, approached Cliff, who immediately stumbled back with a look of awe on his face.

“Oh, Elvis, man, it’s an honour to meet you. I’ve been a fan since you started out, man, since I was a little kid!”

Chancy winced at that one and stood at the screen door to watch what happened next. Elvis was speaking too softly to be heard from the porch, but she saw Cliff straighten and look very serious, before nodding emphatically. Elvis nodded too and opened the door to his Stutz. Cliff went to lean forward, but stopped again and looked up at Elvis, who smiled one of his charming smiles and pulled the corners of his jacket back as he hooked his hands somewhere near his hips.

“What’s going on?” Alicia asked, opening the screen door.

“I’m pretty sure Elvis just threatened your boyfriend with his gun,” Chancy answered. “And now he’s letting him sit in his car.”

“Sounds about right,” Alicia nodded. “I should go… chaperone.”

Chancy went back into the house where Charlie and Billy were helping her grandmother uncover platters on the kitchen table and counters. Like a good hostess, she encouraged them to help themselves to the leftovers from the party before declaring that she had had enough excitement for one day and was going to retire to bed.

A few minutes later, Elvis came in and the kitchen suddenly became smaller and more dingy in comparison. At least in Chancy’s eyes; he, however, acted like he had lived there all his life, taking the plate that Billy handed him and eyeing up the food.

“Am I supposed to just serve this up with my hands, man?” he muttered, and Billy and Charlie started rooting through the drawers for cutlery.

“Make yourself at home, boys,” Chancy remarked, leaning against the sink.

“Looks like we have to. Didn’t Grammy teach you nothing about hospitality?” Elvis smirked, examining a mini slider pensively before taking a bite.

Chancy feigned outrage and whipped some dishwater and suds at him. He jumped out of the way, looking momentarily surprised before laughing.

“Careful now, woman,don’t make me shoot you,” he warned, his eyes twinkling as he patted the colt tucked into the front of his waistband.

“Is that how you threatened Cliff? Where is he, anyway?”

“Oh, he’s fine. He’s taking your sister for a drive.” Of course he was. “He’s a nice guy, we just had to discuss some things first.”

Chancy snorted and went to the refrigerator, unconsciously sliding into the role of hostess and passing out drinks to everyone. Elvis gave her a look when some of the boys took up her offer of beer and she was tempted to have one herself, just to remind him that he was in her house. Except she didn’t actually like beer and her petulance had its limits.

By that time, Alicia and Cliff had returned, giddy from their ride in the Stutz. Cliff was excitedly telling Elvis and the guys about the features like he was trying to sell them the car and while Elvis was grinning good naturedly, the boys were shooting each other sneering looks. Alicia caught that too, because she grabbed her boyfriend by the arm and thanked Elvis for letting them take the car for a spin.

Elvis shook his head as she dragged Cliff out of the room while he was still babbling about automatic headlights and gold-plated steering wheels.

“God, Lil'un is all grown up, it’s so weird, man. You remember when she was gaga for me?”

“Yeah, well, lots of us girls used to be silly like that,” Chancy returned, taking a sip of her coke. She watched as the barb landed, and he lowered his head, the muscle in his cheek flickering as he clenched his jaw.

“Yeah, used to be,” he echoed with an empty chuckle, lifting his eyebrows to the floor.

Charlie immediately forced an abrupt laugh and tried to lighten the mood with a joke like a desperate comedian losing his audience.

“No, cool it, man,” Elvis snapped, shooting him a dark look.

Chancy took a deep breath, looked around her poky kitchen, and drew confidence from the fact that she was home.

“Could I talk to you?” she asked, not recognising her own voice. Elvis glanced up like he wasn’t sure she was talking to him, before nodding. “We can go up to my room.”

As they walked to the stairs, she could hear the guys start murmuring and whispering in the kitchen like a sewing circle.

“Mind your step, some of these old boards are pretty creaky. Don’t wanna wake Grandma.”

“Well, if that ain’t a goddamn blast from the past,” he mumbled dryly. She snorted and tried to focus on what she was doing, growing increasingly aware that his eyes were probably on her ass. Not speaking made it worse, increasing the tension so that by the time they reached her bedroom door, her heart was pounding and her hands were sweating.

As soon as she turned on the light, she regretted her choice of venue, hurrying to snatch up discarded outfit choices for the party from her bed and chair.

“Don’t say a word!”

He lifted his hands in submission and just smirked, his apple cheekbones making a full appearance as he took off his sunglasses and looked around.

“You can take a seat,” she said, gesturing to the newly cleared chair as she perched on the edge of her bed. He promptly sat down next to her on the bed. The glint in his eye told her that he knew exactly what he was doing too. She stood up again and stepped across to her dresser, leaning back against it.

“I just wanted to talk to you because I didn’t like how we left it,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself. “And we never talk about it, you know? We never-“

“Aw hell, what’s there to say, honey?” he asked, tapping his glasses against his knee like he was keeping the beat. “We were neither us firing on all cylinders. I weren’t myself, I just… weren’t myself. The goddamn tour, everything going on with Priscilla, every sonofabitch from Alaska to Florida tryin’ to either take me out or shake me down. It’s a goddamn mess.”

“Well, yeah,” she said hesitantly, “but-“

“And that chick… You know she went to the papers? Told ‘em she and I are engaged and that we’re getting married in October. I don’t know why she picked October. I tell ya, everyone’s got an angle.” He sighed, a huge exhale that lifted his shoulders and made him look like a sad little boy facing the music.

“You know the goddamn truth of it? The only girl that’s never run to the papers, never told no one that we were engaged or married or that I knocked her up by having a picture taken with her, was you.” He looked up at her through his brows, his thick lashes and open pouty mouth striking that perfect balance between pitiful and beautiful in a way that had her digging her nails into her arms to stop herself from reaching for him.

“Yeah, well, maybe I should’ve said a lot more to a lot of people,” she murmured.

“No, you know you don’t need to say it out loud for me to hear it, baby. You never have. Just think it real loud and I’ll get it.”

Chancy raised an eyebrow and tried to find some grit within herself as he approached her slowly, pretending to listen to her thoughts.

“Whoa, Cha-Cha, I-I didn’t know you knew those words!” he teased, winking. “Goddamn! Don’t think even I’ve heard some of ‘em before. Lord have mercy!” He took hold of her hands, waggling them loosely, before sliding his fingers between hers. “C’mon, baby, you know you can’t stay mad at me, just like I can’t stay mad at you.”

“I don’t know, I’m still pretty mad.” She would have preferred it if her voice had been a little less breathy.

He ducked down, giving her a full blast of his little boy’s pout, then bit his lip and leaned in. He kissed her, a soft touch of his lips against hers

“How about now?” he asked gently.

“Yes!” she insisted, but wrinkling her nose did nothing to negate the stupid smile on her face. He kissed her again, harder, tilting his head curiously.

“What about now?”

“You’re a jerk.”

“Uh oh, we seem to be going backwards, let me try-“ He scooped her up by the waist and caressed her lips with his, his tongue sliding in to meet hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew up to her tiptoes, pressing in as warmth flushed through her, need driving out anger, determination, and thought. She was just one of those silly girls again. Or always had been.  @ellie-24, @be-my-ally, @vintageshanny, @missmaywemeetagain, @from-memphis-with-love, @richardslady121, @dkayfixates, @c-rosenn, @fallinlovewithurlove, @notstefaniepresley, @heartbrake-hotel, @freudianslumber, @bbrtt777, @18lkpeters, @prompted-wordsmith. @literally-just-elvis-fics, @eliseinmemphis. @lookingforrainbows, @stylespresleyhearted, @amydarcimarie, @returntopresley, @savedrebelcreation, @lettersfromvenus

[ladynaberrie]

spare a crumb, I'll take it

Pairing: Kix x Translator!Reader

WC: 2k

Rating: M (no smut/spicy content but discussion of sex)

You head to 79s with your favorite unit. Kix walks you home.

part 1 part 2 part 3

Kix is going to lose his mind. 

It’s been hours, and yet each and every time you get up, his eyes zero in on your legs. He can’t help it. Really.

It’s not like he hasn’t seen bare legs before. But it’s the first time he’s seen your bare legs. (To be fair you do have tights on under your dress, but they’re fishnets; they’re also driving him insane). Part of him wants to strangle Jesse for inviting you to 79s while they’re planetside on Coruscant.

But a larger part of him is thrilled his brother had pity on him because now he gets to see you out of your uniform, and he’s losing it. He thinks you need to wear this every day. Fuck the GAR and their drab uniform; you’re glowing like this. And your legs…

His gaze drops back down to said offenders as you make your way back from the bar.

You’re sipping on your drink, plunking a beer down in front of him.

“Looked like you were getting a little low.” Kix’s face heats up as he glances at the way your lips wrap around your straw. What is wrong with him?

As you slide in next to Fives, Echo snickers at Kix, who is stuck watching your mouth.

“Hey, nothing for me?” he hears Fives ask. You snort, taking another sip of your drink, and Kix manages to drag his eyes to the foam that’s settling at the top of his beer.

“Listen, Jesse was gonna get you something, but I’m afraid we’ve lost him to a Twi’lek for the night. But you don’t need anymore to drink, Fives. Back me up, doctor.” Your foot taps lightly against Kix’s calf. 

He jerks back to attention, grimacing a little. He’s a solider, he shouldn’t be stunned into stupidity by you, and yet his eyes hover towards your lips anyway. 

“Not technically a doctor.” You pout a little at his rebuttal, foot still gently knocking into his calf. He’s so fucked.

“No fun,” you whine. Kix’s jaw clenches. He knows he’s playing right into your hand, but he can’t stop himself.

“I am plenty fun.” He does his best to ignore the way Echo shakes his head, pitying him. But you're delighted, jumping to your feet.

“Oh yeah? Prove it.” 

Kix is being pulled up and to the dance floor before he can process what’s happening. Gone is the safety of sitting at a booth, and instead, he’s surrounded by throngs of people. He can't even cower inside his bucket, as he left it sitting with his brothers' in a shiny set of four on the table.

But his anxieties are quickly forgotten about when you lightly drape your arms around his neck. Oh no, all he can focus on now is you.

The confidence you exuded earlier has vanished, but only a slight pinch in between your brows indicates what could possibly be going on in your head.

“Hi,” you say quietly, barely audible over the thumping music.

“Hi,” Kix answers back, doing his best to gently rest his hands on your waist. 

“This ok?” you ask. He knows this answer is important. It’s his chance to opt-out, to deescalate this to something strictly platonic, something professional and GAR approved.

“Yeah,” he chokes out, mouth moving before he can make a rational decision. Fuck.

You just beam up at him. “Cool.” 

And your hips begin to move to the music, but you stay pressed against him. 

Kix inhales unsteadily, slowly trying to move in sync with you. It’s hard with everyone around (he swears he can feel Rex staring holes into the back of his head, and he bailed on their night out). 

So he shuts his eyes, trying to move his body on beat, trying to just feel you and the music. It's some sort of synth-pop from a Coruscanti local that's been everywhere recently. But music aside, Kix feels like he’s on fire when you dance this close to him.

But eventually, you untangle yourself from him, movements becoming a little wider, a little bigger as you dance, lost in whatever you’re feeling; Kix orbits around you slowly, happy to be basking in your glow, happy you want him near. 

He’s not sure how long the two of you dance. Surely longer than he normally would stay out with his vode, but he can’t bear to leave your side; the thought of someone else taking his spot makes his skin crawl. So he dances and dances until he aches a little, and he’s rewarded when you wrap your arms around his neck again and lean against him.

“Tired,” you bemoan, eyes shut as your head rests against him.

Kix ignores the way his heart races in his chest, and he shoves down the embarrassment that rises when he realizes you can probably tell. He just sways gently with you, enjoying the moment.

“I’ll take you home.” Again, the words come out before he can stop them, and he panics a little as you still. But then you lift your head from his chest, eyes wide and soft as you gaze at him.

“Really?” He nods, thumb mindlessly stroking your back. You drag him back to the table, where Echo and Jesse sit with a Twi’lek and Pantoran woman he doesn’t know. Fives is long gone by now, helmet missing from the lineup.

Despite the urge to put it on, Kix leaves his with Echo and Jesse, mentally begging one of them to take it back to the barracks. He doesn't want to look at you obscured by plastoid and glass.

“Bye, guys. Kix’s taking me home,” you say, voice coming out louder than you think. You’re holding onto Kix’s arm tightly, and he recognizes a bleary look in your eyes. 

How much did you have to drink? You seemed fine earlier, just tired if anything. He mentally kicks himself for not keeping track. Some medic he is.

“Yeah, yeah. Making sure you get home in one piece,” he mumbles, face warm at how openly affectionate you’re right now. Jesse smirks at him, and Kix’s eyes drop to the ground.

He’s on autopilot as you direct him to an air taxi and around the subsequent blocks that are in between the air taxi drop-off and your apartment complex. When you stop at your building, he frowns. Sure, it’s on a mid-level but your safety is of the utmost priority, and this building’s security is not cutting it. 

He’s eyeing about 10 different paths a faceless attacker could take before he realizes you're dragging him forward and through the doors of the building. That’s fine. He should make sure you should make it to your unit. That’s it. No other reason. 

When you’re at your door, you drag your fingernails up and down his plastoid-covered arm, nevertheless sending shivers down his spine.

“Do you wanna come in?” you ask, your free hand already typing in the code to your room. He doesn’t have much of a choice as you tug him into your little apartment. 

He can scope out the place. Make sure the premises is safe. And then that’s it. Back to his bunk. 

While you kick off your heels and collapse onto the couch, Kix takes in your apartment. He’s struck by how you everything is. From the artwork on the wall to the colored kitchen appliances, everything feels like you. If he tries hard enough he can picture you haggling for your lamps, and petting different rugs until you picked the softest one. 

It’s so full of life and color here. Not at all regulation. 

At some point you flipped to your stomach, choosing to watch him silently, eyes all soft and demure. Kix is struck by how intimate this all feels, and anxiety bubbles up inside of him as he feels very out of place. A hard-cut monster bred for war in your soft little apartment.

“I should probably get going,” Kix says reluctantly, rubbing his head. “They’re going to assume the worst.” His tone darkens a little, and Jesse’s smirks and Fives’ laugh echo and resonate in his head.

“I don’t mind that.” 

Your voice cuts through the noise in his head, silencing everything. He stares at you, and the way you’re looking at him. With half-lidded eyes and a partially open mouth, you look pleased and in a mood to say things without a filter. Kix doesn’t miss the way you push your chest out slightly towards him. He inhales sharply, throat feeling dry.

Something hot stirs to life in Kix’s gut, and he aches at those four words. You like the idea that his brothers think he’s fucking you. The thought of the implications burns bright and fast through him. His jaw tenses.

“Well I mean-” you continue, misunderstanding his silence.

“I do,” he cuts you off firmly, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I do mind.” 

The quiet sits heavy in the air for a second, and then you deflate, crestfallen at the way he shut you down. Your eyes glue themselves to the floor as you shift your body to try and subconsciously make yourself smaller on the couch. (Kix feels like a pervert noticing the way your dress shifts to reveal more skin). He sighs trying to think of how to explain this to you right now.

“I mean that in the sense that I care about your reputation, as well as my own,” Kix explains, wanting to undo whatever hurt he causes. 

“I don’t want them thinking I’ll take advantage of you when you’re not sober.” You seem placated by that, nodding quietly. It’s a logical reason, one that spares your feelings, but it’s cold. Not at all what you had wanted him to say.

And if he understood you correctly, you had liked the idea of having sex with him, had been pleased with the idea of everyone thinking you were together. (His codpiece feels uncomfortably tight). The thought sits with him for a minute, stoking his ego as he basks in lust that travels through his body.

“And if I were to fuck you, it’s going to be when you’re in your right mind and can remember…everything.” 

Something white hot and primal has hijacked Kix’s brain, a need to let you know you’re not crazy and the desire isn’t one-sided. He’s left staring at you blankly, heart racing as he lets himself slip into a vague daydream that involves making you squirm and pant on this little couch. Another time. If you'll let him.

“Oh,” you say dumbly, staring at him. Sober enough to put the pieces together, but drunk enough to not string together a proper response. 

Fuck, maybe he shouldn’t have said anything.

“Oh,” he says back, watching as a slow and sappy smile spreads out on your face. Well, that’s a good sign. He slowly backs up towards the door, keeping his eyes on you. 

“Goodnight, Kix,” you mumble, smiling at him and pushing yourself up to rest on the couch. 

He feels a lick of heat rush through him at the site of your chest pressed against the arm of your couch, fishnet-covered legs kicked up behind you, eyelashes batting at him so prettily.

His eyes glide over the back of your upper thighs where the hem of your dress rests against your fishnet-covered skin. He wonders if you’d let him kiss your skin there, if you’d let him bite. 

In a matter of seconds, you’ve managed to reverse the upper hand he had, keeping him wrapped around your finger. Good. As it should be.

“Goodnight,” he chokes out, exiting your apartment and leaning on the wall next to the door as it slides shut and locks. 

He wishes he could hide in his bucket. He knows his face is flushed, and he can feel his cock twitching. 

Oh, this is bad. He shakes his head a little as he pushes off the door, heading back to the lower floors. With you, he forgets himself; with you, he feels like a person. Very bad, indeed.

The noise of the Coruscant streets bombards his ears, making it harder to think, but he’s grateful for the somewhat fresh air. It’ll be nice to clear his head as he heads back to the barracks.

But it’s a fool's errand to believe he’ll be thinking about anything but your lips and that swath of skin on the back of your upper thighs.

[kumimi3]

could you please also write the idol scenario for chigiri too? i really liked your last one!

❪ BLUE LOCK BOYS <33 ❫ ❮ a star idol dancing for their lover ⟡⟡ ↳ chigiri and isagi

continuing | return back to level i !

❪ chigiri ❫

he knew of your performance the day before, Chigiri is observant and has good hearing, listening intently to the producers in the meeting room, the mention of your name took him by surprised

Chigiri was subtle, he knew it was going to be a secret with how quiet you’ve been since last week, practicing on your vocals much strictly than before

bringing you water inside the music studio, putting a humidifier inside your shared apartment, making sure you don’t hurt your vocals by helping you breath, those are the simple services he did to help you since day one

And once your performance is now starting, Chigiri was already at the front seat as he looks at you with a small smile, clapping along with the crowd as you/your group starts to sing and dance

Chigiri has been allured by you since the camera showed your majestic visuals, as if you were looking at him with those sweet eyes of yours

When the performance ended, he was one of the people who stood up and clapped even more loudly, you just did so wonderful with your performance, how could he not?

Taking away your earpiece and entering the hallway, you suddenly stopped when you heard many squeals and screams from all over the people in the stadium, you realized you were on the screen, but why exactly were they loud all of a sudden?

“Congratulations, Y/n, you look marvelous as always."

Turning around, you met Chigiri’s longing eyes stare at you while holding a big bouquet of your favorite flowers, he was holding it tightly in secret, he just couldn’t help but blush when you smiled at him

Everyone was looking at the screen, watching as Chigiri starts to walk forward and hand you the flowers, what surprised them the most was him suddenly picking you up and kiss you so passionately you almost forgot that you and your lover are still obvious to everyone

His teammates whistled at the scene, but Chigiri didn’t care, he is in his own bubble with you

Breaking off the kiss, he smiled as you both press each other’s forehead, and when he heard that the match was about to start, he pecked your forehead with a light kiss and ruffled your hair before walking together with his team, not before saying

“Y/n, I’ll win this game for you.”

❪ isagi ❫

This boy… OML

Once he saw you at the stage, he was stunned, who was that beautiful angel dancing with the most mesmerizing aura? Oh my gosh its his lover, the love of his life!!!

Won’t waste a moment and quickly sprint towards the seat closest to your position, he will scream your name at the top of his lungs and literally combust and short-circuit when you notice and give him a cute expression

“Hey, miss! Do you see them? That’s my sweetheart!” “Mister, look at the one in the middle, they’re so beautiful right? I’m gonna marry them someday!"

Compliments you so much to the other people, he barely couldn’t focus on you because he knows that just one stare across your eyes and he knows his legs will feel like jelly with how much he loves you

If he has his phone with him, he will definitely take pictures and videos of you, you can even hear him screaming behind the camera, “Go, Y/n!” “Gah, you’re so cool!"

The time the performance ends, he runs back to the field and open his arms to welcome you, it wasn’t long before he attacks you with so much kisses, cupping your face gently yet giggles so much

The rush of adrenaline finally dies down and his face now becomes like a tomato, apologizing to you, but he was still caressing your cheek and holding your waist

“I’m the luckiest man in the world. I’m gonna go up to the field and play, okay? And I want you to know that… I will win, for you, for us.”

[writernotyetauthor]

Can this Hetalia character Roller Skate 🛼

Italy: Yes, he’s pretty good. Will offer to hold someone’s hand if they’re having trouble and loves to flirt with other people on the rink. 

Germany: He won’t fall down very often but he’s stiff as a board, won’t bend his knees. Mostly relies on getting pushed or pulled in the right direction and must often accept Italy’s hand for help. Falls on his ass a couple times. 

Japan: Yes and he’s surprisingly fast. Brings his own skates to the rink and enjoys listening to the music and zipping circles around the others. 

America: This mf LOVES roller skating. He doesn’t do it as often as other sports but he’s been skating since at least the 1910s. Always says he’s gonna try out for a roller derby team but never does. 

England: No and he will not try. He used to skate a little before the 20th century but the wars fucked up his legs and his balance. Tried once in the 80s and fell on his face in front of a dozen punk youths. Never again. Refused to use a walker. He will watch people skate from the bench with his skates on and refuses to get in the rink. 

France: Same as England mostly, he prefers ice skating. He’ll sit on the bench and talk instead of skate. Can be convinced to do a light lap or two around the rink but he MUST be holding someone’s hand. 

China: Yes, he can skate decently but he can’t make himself stop, he has to let friction slow him down. Often gets stuck and has to scoot out of the rink when he gets tired. 

Russia: Also prefers ice skating but can’t quite figure out how to translate ice skating skills into roller skates. Grips the wall the entire time and can’t manage to keep his legs under him. Falls on his ass once and leaves the rink to get food. 

Canada: Hell yes, he loves some roller skating. Ice skating and hockey will always be his true love but roller skating has been a hobby he and his brother could bond over for decades. He and America will sometimes race around the rink and attempt to not run into people. 

Prussia: Oh god. This motherfucker is so fucking bad at skating but he doesn’t care. He will full throttle shoot himself across a rink, slam headfirst into the opposite wall, and fall back on the ground and act like he’s the greatest skater alive. He loves it so much and he WILL do it again two minutes later. He can’t break, he can barely turn, and if there’s someone he doesn’t like directly in his way he WILL take them down with him. If given a walker he will use it to hit the wall even faster. It gives Germany a heart attack every time he hears his quasi-mortal brother thud on the ground but as long as he’s breathing and gets up soon enough he lets him have his fun. Will go until he’s completely winded and has to be pushed off the rink. 

Romano: Yes! Started roller skating back when he worked at America’s house in the 20s and has tried to keep it up as a hobby but he’s a little rusty. Is a pro at stepping around Prussia’s fallen body. 

Hungary: Yep yep. Hasn’t done it as much in recent years but absolutely adored roller skating in the late 19th-early 20th century. Joined a roller derby in the interwar years and absolutely fucking loved it. Wants to join another but hasn’t had the free time. She and Prussia will occasionally try to push each other down while skating, though she succeeds in staying up more often than he does. 

Austria: Much like France & England, he needs to hold someone’s hand or he psyches himself out. The hand is often Hungary’s. Will often trip and fall. Prussia tries to knock him down too but they’re both so terrible at turning they usually just fly past each other. Usually resorts to using one of the walkers. 

Lithuania: Like Romano he started skating back when he worked at America’s house in the 20s. He enjoys it but he is a bit rusty. Takes photos of Prussia wiped out on the floor and posts them on social media which a caption equivalent to “Common Prussia L”. They try to push each other down but it often results in both of them wiping out. He usually tries to fall forward rather than backward because his back is still very fucked up. 

Belarus: With a long background in ice skating, she prefers in-line roller skates. Prefers to skate alone and watch others fall over but she will help them back up. 

Ukraine: Has an impressive collection of roller derby trophies in her room. Loves the social aspect of skating at a rink and gets dressed up to go with friends when she can. 

Poland: Acts like he’s better at roller skating then he really is, needs to hold the wall for a while but can eventually scoot off by himself.  

[beautifulpersonpeach]

I definitely want to back up that anon who thinks jimin is still in the kitchen! In truth I think all the boys are and will be for a long time. I see chapter two as the introduction of their solo careers meaning "hey we are gonna be bts but also be ourselves sometimes too" I think every solo moment we've seen is the beginning which I'm for one super excited about. Imagine a wave of brilliant solo work one year and then phenomenal group work the next. Chapter two is barely a year in and it's already a visual and musical feast. I think jimin loves quietly preparing so he can wow us when he feels the time is right and while I too get tense with the constant radio silence I know it's cause he'll blow my mind the second he wants too. I hope people who feel as if Jimin didn't get a chance to show his true might feel comforted in that he will never ever stop wanting to gag tf out of us. And I think the sentiment holds the same for bts.

***

Exactly this. Up until a few months ago I thought this was well understood, seeing as how BTS has operated till now, but clearly I was mistaken.

For posterity’s sake, to beat this dead horse one final time:

Would it be nice for each member’s release to not have any of the issues they’ve had? Of course. But it’s possible to inform the company of said issues, address what we can for issues due to various platform errors not due to the company, while not losing sight of the fact this is only 2023. We’re still only in 2023. As in, we’re literally just one year into Chapter 2, none of the guys are older than 30, and they keep saying they’re in this for the long haul. And this is the same group that has shown over a decade that their plans are most often and best executed in multi-year stints.

It’s bizarre to think a member’s solo career is over or even damaged at all in any real way because of one or more problems that happened during their first solo release. It betrays such a myopic, winner-take-all mentality that you have to be in a very specific headspace to fully buy into.

Jimin is clearly happy and working. He’s not blind and is seeing what is working for other members and what isn’t. They’re all checking out each other’s solo endeavours from time to time, cheering each other on and I’d say making notes on what they too could try, what works and what doesn’t.

If there’s one thing that’s become clear to me over the years, and even more so in Chapter 2, it’s that BTS is a team. A real team. I’ve seen a lot of k-pop groups over the years and there is no group today, present or past, that would reach the heights BTS has if any of the members sought to harm or sabotage or lord shit over the rest, with or without help from the company. None of the BTS members would put up with that shit. Their egos are too big, they’re so obviously their own people, very ambitious and so aware of it that I really wonder if people actually listen to these men when they talk. They know exactly what they’re worth, and they trust that all the other members know it too. If BigHit showed any real favouritism, BTS is the last group to allow that if it’s not something they themselves have already agreed to.

They all know what they’re doing. And if they don’t, then they’re the only people with the tools to figure it out. All the angst and anguish over this or that happening in fan spaces, has no real effect on these men sitting somewhere in Seoul planning out everything they’d like to do as solo artists and as part of BTS.

That’s my takeaway after watching them for as long as I have. I could be wrong, but I’ve not seen anything to suggest that yet. I’m not sure how long you’ve been in the fandom Anon, or what you think about other issues, but it’s nice to see you and the other Anon share this perspective. It’s a view that’s widely accepted in the fan spaces I’m in outside of Tumblr, but one that is sorely lacking in this space right now.

For no reason at all, one Jimin that I hope one day shows up in Chapter 2, 3, or 4:

Sidebar - A friend (who isn’t religious) was asking another friend recently about religion, because she’s now desperate enough to seek divine intervention for Jimin to find blonde hair dye, and to love it again.

We all know his best hair colour is black, but it’s just as true that a solid case has been made for him being a natural blonde.

*

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Okay, that’s it today from my gallery.

That colleague i mentioned the other day, the one that recently got into BTS and now biases Jimin, we’re meeting up this weekend with my other friend, the musician that watched the Grammys with me last year and fell in love with Jimin. That’s an example of two people still finding out about Jimin, falling in love with his music and him as a person, and starting to support him. None of the noise online actually has any real bearing on the impact of real life people still learning about Jimin through his solo music and through BTS, and becoming his fans maybe for life.

If anyone finds themselves feeling overwhelmed in fandom, please zoom out. Please take time away and get some perspective. Everything I’ve said is obvious, none of it is rocket science or gleaned from any special insight. The noise online can suck you in, to prevent that, please detach, go back to their recent and old interviews to hear what they each feel about Chapter 2 and their solo work, listen to all of what Jimin expressed during his promotions, the good and bad. You’d be left with fewer anxieties. At least, that’s the case for me.

Thanks for this, Anon.

[midnghtprentiss]

touring with eddie - e.m

a/n: i’m obsessed with the idea of rockstar!eddie

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x wife!reader. 

warnings: mentions of sex, cursing and eddie munson being a babe

His first important gig was opening for Metallica. One day he was performing at a bar and you started talking with a few men and later that night you found who they were after your husband almost had a stroke.

‘’That was Lars Ulrich, he’s in Metallica and you were making him laugh. What the hell”

‘’How the hell would I know? I only listen to Abba, Eddie! He was telling me about how good you are. They’re looking for a band to open for them and maybe he has your number now.’’ 

"Woman you are the love of my fucking life’’. 

They called him a week later and he cried for two hours after hung up the phone. 

At first he had no idea how that works but after a week he was making himself at home and trying to make you feel the same.

A lot of sleep in different places all the time cause you can't keep Eddies rhythm after the concerts. 

‘’Hey baby, I’m taking you to bed c’mon.’’

Late night talking about anything or Eddie just mumbling a lot.

"Do you think things are gonna get better? I mean, I gave Wayne a house and he has no more debt. We can choose any place to be and have a baby."

"Eddie, it's 3 am in the morning, go to sleep."

"I can't sleep."

"Tell me about this idea of yours."

Having sex everywhere when people are not around. I mean everywhere.

"Eddie, we are going to get caught!"

"C'mon baby, we can be quickly if you stop complaining."

He dedicating a different song to you every night.

People thinking how cute you two are for supporting each other even when you're mad.

A few fights because of jealous.

"She was being nice, hon."

"She was about to take of her clothes, Eddie. And she ignore me! It was my request!"

"Now every woman that talk to me are a possible misstress for you!"

"She pull up her skirt and her breasts were falling of her shirt. God you are so stupid. I almost throw your ring at her!"

"You notice a lot, aparently."

"Hope you like to have fun with your hand on the fucking couch. You are sleeping there tonight."

Cuddling after the fights best make up ever (after sex).

"Say something and you are a dead man, Munson."

"I prefer dead over a divorce."

"I prefer you sleeping."

"I think you look hot when you're jealous, like really hot"

Taking pictures of you in the audience during soundcheck specially when you are talking with his music heroes. He swears his heart almost stops everytime he saw you laughing at something.

"You got a nice woman, Eddie. Don't let her go because you do something stupid, groupies come and go, that is forever."

Writing a lot of songs about you or singing the ones he alredy wrote for you.

Getting married again in every romantic spot possible.

"Will you marry me again right now underneath this beautiful tree?"

"How many weddings do you want to have?"

"With you? All of them."

He buying you a lot of gifts and souvenirs for when you go home and remind of him.

DnD night with random people from the production.

Saying goodbye to you are always the worst part of the tour. He end up crying so do you.

"It's going to be two months, I'll call everyday. It's going to be like my wife is with me all the time."

"How am I supposed to survive without you in my bed? Who are going to bring me water in the middle of the night?"

"If you call Dustin with the right words he will gladly do that."

"I love you, hm? Don't have too much fun in Europe without me, alright?"

"I love you so much. I promise to bring everything that reminds me of you. Be safe at home."

[nogitsunbae]

whoops more mungrove smut sorry

The thing is, Billy knows he’s gonna be done for the second he gives in and drives two towns over to see Eddie and his band play.

He knows.

So he keeps putting it off. Telling Eddie his dad won’t let him, Max needs something that night, blah blah blah, until finally Steve corners him at Family Video.

“It’s breaking his heart, you know,” Steve says, absentmindedly putting tapes back on shelves. “He wants to show off for you, man, wants you to have some fun with him.”

And Billy goes home that night frowning, but calls Eddie and asks when they’re playing again, and Billy could hear Eddie’s excited movements through the phone, his big dopey smile.

He’s done for, already, really.

Two weeks later he parks his car and takes a deep breath. Gets out. Already had people staring because of course he got a bit dressed up (more than usual) to see his stupid crush play live. Walked in and found himself a wall to lean on, smoke his cigarettes, growl at anyone who approached him.

He only had eyes for one tonight.

And, well.

He knew.

Eddie came out, spitting venom, screaming, raging on his guitar and absolutely driving the crowd (and Billy) wild. And Billy couldn’t help it. Shit, it had been well over a year since he had gone to a proper show, could jump and swing and scream with people just like him. He got caught up in it for a bit, until he looked up to find Eddie staring right at him, smiling, winking at him. Blowing him a kiss.

Fuck.

And then he couldn’t help but to look at Eddie’s sweaty arms when he shredded the guitar, the muscles in his neck straining as he screamed, his fingers moving wicked along the strings, Eddie’s tongue piercing shining whenever the light hit his open mouth just right.

And Billy really was, gone, then, hard in his way too tight jeans from more than just adrenaline, panting from more than moving his body with the crowd, saliva pooling in his mouth from more than just screaming.

He made his way to the back, was ushered in without much preamble, Eddie must’ve known he would want to come backstage afterwards, and waited.

Forever.

He knew disassembling the set could take a while, but he was aching, probably had a wet patch on the front of his jeans, and by the time Eddie walked in he was a whining mess.

“Billy?”

All he could do was whine, cover his face in his hands. This was so fucking embarrassing. He should’ve just left earlier. He heard boots walking quickly his way and hitched a breath.

“I— I’m sorry, Eddie.”

He peeked out from his hands, face scrunched up, trying to hold back tears.

“Why? You just came to the show, why would you be—“

Eddie noticed Billy’s jeans. How hard he was, how wet he was. And just sighed.

“Billy.”

“This is so stupid.”

“Billy, please.”

“I’m just gonna—“

“Baby, please listen to me.”

Billy stopped, then, and stayed still, looking up at Eddie with confusion.

“You really think I would’ve invited you here and put on that show if I didn’t want to make your dick hard?” Eddie asked, smiling. “Baby, I’ve been waiting to get you here just for that. Just to see you crumble over it. And god, it was so fucking worth it, look at you.”

He took a step to Billy, cupped his aching cock through his jeans.

“So fucking wet, Jesus.”

Billy whined, covered his face in his hands again.

“Don’t need to be embarrassed, baby, shit, look at what you’ve done to me. The thought of you out there raging to my music fucking got me hard as a rock, was hoping this would happen.” He took one of Billy’s hands and guided it to his crotch, and Billy shuddered when he felt the hardness that greeted him.

“Can I…?”

Eddie smiled, “whatever you want, baby.”

And Billy was done for, again, when he grabbed Eddie by his sweaty arms and pulled him in for a kiss, groaned at the way the piercing slid against his tongue, keened when he sucked on it and Eddie gently pushed at his shoulders to get him on his knees.

“Whatever you want, baby,” Eddie said again, licking his lips, and Billy leaned forward, rubbed his face against his crotch, practically purred when Eddie fisted a handful of his hair and unzipped his pants.

He was sweaty here, too, musky, and Billy wasted no time licking around Eddie, burying his nose into the soft damp hairs at the base of his cock before finally leaning back and opening his mouth, closing his eyes and sticking his tongue out.

He was done for. He knew this. Knew it when Eddie painted his face with his cum. Knew it when he gathered up some with his fingers and slid them into Billy’s mouth, the taste mixing with the sweat and the metal of his rings. Knew it when Eddie dropped down to the floor and rubbed Billy through his jeans hard, had him cumming in his pants and whining. Knew it when Eddie gave him a soft kiss and told him he was never letting him go.

Billy was done for. But pretty happy about it.