#and we were still doing practices at MY apartment with MY piano

[daisydisciple]

ok so I'm the new choir director in my ysa ward and we sang today and it turned out really good and a bunch of people came up to me (both in the choir and not) and thanked me for putting it together and the bishop texted me and thanked me and ✨💕✨🌸🎵✨ anyway it's just nice to be appreciated bc I did put in a lot of effort and it didn't feel so much like pulling teeth getting people to come like last time I was choir director in my last ward and like. yeah just doing my calling I'm happy to do it but everyone was being so nice to me :)

[steddieas-shegoes]

Steve grows up playing piano, absolutely hates it, but is so good at it. His parents aren’t around enough by the time he’s a teen to force him to his practices, so he slowly stops going.

His music teacher happens to be Robin’s mom, who studied at Juilliard, and traveled for nearly a decade with various orchestras and bands before settling down with her husband in Hawkins.

She can see what’s going on with Steve from day one, but knows better than to interfere.

Until he quits.

She can’t stand by and let someone so musically gifted give it up.

She shows up at his house with a violin, her own violin that she hadn’t used in years.

He’s hesitant at first, but decides to give it a try as long as she doesn’t tell his parents. The last thing he wants is for them to find out he picked up a new instrument.

She can’t give him official lessons, so she shows up to his house twice a week and hopes that he practices in his own time.

He’s a natural.

He takes to it like a duck to water.

She encourages him to perform in a local talent show, all kids under 18, most of them not half as talented as he is.

He only agrees when she says she’ll be front row.

And sure enough, for once in his life, someone shows up when they say they will. She’s sitting front row with her husband on one side and her daughter on the other. She smiles as he takes the stage, nervous about people who know him seeing him and reporting back to his parents.

He performs with heart, something he lacked with the piano. He performs with talent, something he may have with any instrument he picks up.

But most importantly, he plays with a smile. He’s having fun.

He sticks around to watch some of the other people performing: Tammy Thompson singing a very out of tune rendition of America The Beautiful, some kid from one of his classes playing piano miserably, and some band performing very loud, very angry music.

Steve wins, and for once, it feels better than when he wins at a swim meet or basketball game.

He spends the next three years secretly practicing, only performing in shows out of town, never saying anything to his parents.

He doesn’t want them to ruin this for him.

He applies to Juilliard, not thinking he has a chance in hell, not with his academic grades.

Luckily, they see that he’s “exceptional with the strings” and “plays with emotion that can’t be trained.”

He gets in.

He goes.

He thinks he may actually be able to do this, use a gift he has to make his life better.

His parents even find it acceptable, mostly because he got into the best school he could have. They still don’t bother showing up for his shows, but Mrs. Buckley always finds a way.

In his sophomore year, Robin gets in, and they both move into a small apartment off campus together. He promised to look out for her.

She tells him that music wasn’t really her passion, she was just good with a trumpet. She really wanted to be an engineer.

In his junior year, Robin transfers to Columbia, starts doing what she really wanted to do from the start. He’s proud of her, but misses having someone on campus during the day to have lunch with.

Until he stumbles, literally, into someone vaguely familiar.

“Sorry, man. Running late.”

Steve pats the man on the shoulder and turns to get to his class when the man stops him.

“Harrington? You’re a student here?”

He turns back and finally recognizes the man in front of him.

“Munson? When did you get here?”

“I got in this year. Kinda fucked up my first audition last year and they were kind enough to give me another shot.” Eddie smiled. “What on earth are you here for?”

“Violin. You?”

“Guitar and songwriting.”

“That’s great, man. I’m just really running late. Catch up soon?”

Soon was two weeks later, when Steve ran into Eddie again while leaving class.

“We should probably stop running into each other like this,” Eddie smirked. “The universe is trying to tell us something.”

“What’s it trying to tell us?”

“Not sure. Maybe we should go grab dinner and find out.”

“Now?”

“Why not? Got better plans?”

Steve thought about how Robin was barely at the apartment due to studying for midterms. He thought about how his only other friend from here was busy rehearsing for their senior showcase.

“Nah. Let me bring this home first,” he held up his violin case. “Actually.”

Steve was on a budget. His parents gave him money, sure, but they thought he was living on campus so the money they sent covered rent and groceries and nothing else.

“I could make dinner. If you want?”

“Steve Harrington cooks? And plays violin?” Eddie fake swooned. “Be still my beating heart. How will I not be seduced?”

Steve rolled his eyes. He remembered Eddie’s dramatics from school and knew better than to feed into them.

“I can make some spaghetti. Nothing fancy.”

“Spaghetti sounds great,” Eddie’s fake swoon turned to a soft smile. “You want some help?”

Steve didn’t need help, usually didn’t even want any.

But something about the way his stomach dipped when Eddie stepped closer, and the way he thought about having Eddie in his apartment, made him agree.

“Sure.”

They walked to Steve’s apartment in a comfortable silence, though Eddie kept tapping the back of his fingers against Steve’s hand.

Eddie fit next to Steve. They cooked together, they ate together, they even managed to clean up together. It was easy to find something to talk about. He’d never clicked with anyone like this, not even Robin.

By the time Robin came home, Steve and Eddie were both passed out on the couch, fingers laced together as if they hadn’t been brave enough to do anything more before they fell asleep.

By morning, Steve’s head was on Eddie’s shoulder, Eddie’s arm wrapped around him loosely.

Waking up to a soft kiss on his lips was something Steve couldn’t have imagined when he first ran into Eddie, but he was pretty glad it was how he started his day.

And almost every day after that, whether he woke up to a kiss, or met up with Eddie on campus for a kiss, he started his day with love on his lips.

[ratedfleur]

… prince!jake who took a liking into the head guard’s daughter who recently became a maid for his sister..

jake knew it was practically impossible to be able to have even a brief moment with you when he knew that you were like his sister’s tail, so he quickly formulated a plan that he wish he could execute well.

waltzing through the halls, jake walked gracefully with a hum accompanying him, smile gently placed on his face as he greeted those maids and palace guards that he passed by as he made his way towards his little sister’s piano room.

he didn’t bother to knock and instead he quickly and quietly slipped into the room like a mice looking for cheese, and alas, you were right there standing prettily by the wall as his sister, julie, was gracefully playing the piano.

julie's fingers came crashing down when she caught a whiff of jake’s wood-like perfume when he tried to walk past her, an array of notes came when her fingers harshly pressed the piano keys, “oppa, why are you here?” julie says, face stoic as she turned her head to look at jake who cheekily smiled at her, clearly caught in the act as he stood straight with his hands clasped together.

“oh nothing, can’t i just hang with you? i mean, you have a few weeks before you’re to be sent off to london, can’t i bond with my baby sister?” jake asks, eyes clearly pure and innocent as he spoke to julie. 

furrowing her brows at him, she dismisses him with a wave of the hand before she turned her head to face the piano once more, “i suppose you could stay.. oppa, please just don’t interrupt me while i play this last song then i guess we could hang.” she says while making air quotations.

smiling triumphantly, jake quickly makes his way beside you who let out a little sound when he stood beside you, merely a few inches apart from you.

you knew you couldn’t look jake straight in the eye when he turned his head to look at you, you simply kept your head down, eyes fixated on the ground as your hands fiddled around with themselves despite seeing jake’s feet turn to face you.

“you are permitted to look at me, you know? i don’t bite unlike that little dragon over there.” jake jokes, making you purse your lips into a line as you turned your head as you looked up at jake, eyes innocently looking at jake’s sharp ones that curve into a smile when he meets eyes with you.

seeing that you were shy, jake turns back to avoid your gaze, hearing you take a little breath of relief when he does turn away from you. you kept your eyes fixated on your master who continued to gracefully play the piano, a soft melody emitting from the piano which echoed all over the piano room.

now that you’ve seen jake a little up close, you noticed how your young master had the same features as the man, she had puppy like features, much like an angrier and fiercer version of jake’s softer ones.

despite nearly resembling each other, their personalities were far from the same. just like their different features, it was exactly the same as their personalities. jake had the puppy-like and friendly personality whilst your young master was blunt and stoic.

lost in your own thoughts, you didn’t notice how jake was quietly speaking to you, “… here?” jake asks, head slightly turned to look at you.

flustered, you turned your body to face him before you bowed as an apology, “apologies, my lord.. could you repeat that? i wasn’t paying attention..” you say shyly, eyes still avoiding jake’s who had his eyes curled up into a smile as he chuckled.

“i said, how are you liking it here? it hasn’t been long since you moved to the palace, am i mistaken?” jake asks once more, eyes twinkling when you do nod because he made sure that your stay in the palace is well, always reminding his maid to take care of you in his behalf.

silence blankets itself over you both, making jake's eyes dart from all over the room as he thought of another topic, clearly i didn't think this through, jake thought to himself.

"have you seen the new garden? aren't the new flowers marvelous?" jake asks, pointing over to the window where the garden could be seen.

your eyes twinkle, making jake smile when you ramble about the new flowers you’ve planted for the dear queen a few weeks ago.

"i just think the garden looks breathtaking with the new peruvian lilies– were.. were you listening?" you ask as you turned your head to look at jake who seemed uninterested in your ramble, his eyes were empty before he blinked at you.

"you're pretty." jake says blankly before your cheeks flush red when jake's own cheeks mirror your own, his eyes avoid yours as he looks on the ground before the huge doors push open, revealing the king who's eyes immediately land on jake's guilty ones.

"jake, come along. do remember not to bother julie when she's making use of her practice time." the king's voice booms in the room as jake sheepishly smiles at you, bidding his goodbyes before leaving alongside the king.

[spiderceo]

− ⌗ vaudeville vows pt.2 ⊹.∿

summary; alastor shows up to ruin your evening in his own fun little way.

tags; gender-neutral reader, reader can play piano and sing, reader gets used to alastor surprisingly fast and he (definitely) doesn’t like that, sugary sweet manipulation, scopophobia (fear of being watched or stared at), alastor’s stupid mangled body

word count; 2.2k

pairing; alastor x reader

a/n; i plan to make chapters longer in the future so hopefully you enjoy that kind of thing. i also have proof-read this. as usual, reposts are greatly appreciated <3

tag list; @chewbrry @zatrinaxxx

master post | part one

Days passed since your first encounter with Alastor. He hadn’t shown his face again in your apartment which you were extremely happy for. But even though he wasn’t there physically, there was always this awful feeling of being watched no matter where you went. It was that bad that you struggled to even go for a shower or get changed for work in the mornings.

The whole while this was happening, you couldn’t shake the idea of the demon’s proposal. The allure of fame and fortune continued to tug at your thoughts every time you passed by your piano. The instrument now served as a reminder of what you could have had. Having someone like Alastor to guide you to your full potential would mean you could have so many great things. It was a tantalising dream that seemed just out of reach.

The days turned into weeks and still you remained steadfast in your decision against accepting the deal. Life had gone back to normal and the staring had reduced in its intensity. Whenever you got home from work, you managed to sit down at your piano and get some practice in. Part of you wanted to prove you didn’t need to make a deal with a demon to achieve what you wanted.

However, fate works in mysterious ways and we don’t always get what we want.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the city was bathed in the soft glow of twilight, you found yourself lost in your music once more. The melody flowed smoothly from your fingertips, weaving a tapestry of sound that filled the room with warmth and light. You sung along quietly with a content smile on your face. This had been your calmest night by far, until an awful feeling washed over you.

A chill ran down your spine as you looked around the room. The sensation of hundreds of little eyes watching you made your skin crawl as the temperature dropped. The lights in your apartment dimmed and flickered and your hands shakily slid away from the piano keys. Your eyes landed on a dark corner of the room where a lanky shadow stood. Eyes with a familiar shade of carmine pierced your soul and you couldn’t help but keep your body completely still.

He hadn’t moved from his spot, just tilted his head as if to tell you to continue what you were doing. If he hadn’t been a scary looking creature that wanted your soul, you probably would have found this gesture cute. Alastor’s eyes carried a look of amusement in them as he waited for you to do something.

Should you continue playing? Is that what he wanted?

You carefully turned your back to him and felt your hands tremble as they went back to their positions on the piano. With uncertainty, you pressed the keys and began to play a different song from before. This one was a bit more well known despite it’s age, and had also featured a lot in your grandad’s record collection.

‘Anything Goes’ by Cole Porter.

The beginning of the tune rung out and was immediately halted by Alastor’s presence reappearing on your left. “My dear musician,” he addressed you as if you were old friends, his voice exaggerated as always. “Your playing is splendid, but I feel that something is missing.”

You tensed at his words, unsure of what he meant. Before you could respond, Alastor took a step forward with his wicked grin becoming slightly smaller — he looked less like he was straining. This was how his expression usually sat, you guessed. But smiling constantly must be painful, right? Perhaps demons didn’t feel that type of pain.

“Why don’t you sing with me, my dear?” his gaze never left yours as you could feel your heart ready to beat out of your chest. A mix of excitement and trepidation coursed through your veins at the thought of singing with Alastor. Sharing a duet with a devil wasn’t something you got to do everyday. “Sing with you?” you queried, not quite sure if he was joking or not behind that talk-show voice of his. The idea of the duet was both thrilling and terrifying in equal measure. Sharing the stage with a demonic being was definitely something you could tell the grandkids one day.

“Why, of course! I wouldn’t pass up the chance to perform with a talent such as yourself, now would I?” Alastor sure knew how to sweet talk his way into getting what he wanted. You glanced at the piano, its keys beckoning you to return your hands to them. You knew you couldn’t resist this time, and decided it wouldn’t hurt to entertain Alastor just this once.

With a weary smile, you began to play once more, letting the melody of the song flow with effortless grace. And as you finished the intro, your voice began to accompany your playing. It was trembling, unlike when you were alone. Alastor’s overbearing presence was making it hard to focus on the words. It wasn’t until radio crackles filled the room and more instruments joined in. Along with them came the demon’s familiar accented voice.

Your singing quietened as you listened to the creature sing. His voice was pleasing to the ear and with the added effect of a vintage radio, it reminded you of home — listening to your grandad’s records play as you ran around his garden and he sat in his rocking chair on the porch. The pleasant memories brought a bigger smile to your face as you forgot all about the fact that who you were singing with was trying to capture your soul.

For a moment, you and Alastor were united in a devil’s duet. Your singing was more confident as the demon leaned against your piano casually. Even when he sung, his toothy smile never ceased. And as the music eventually faded back to static, you met his gaze that was just as oppressive as it had always been. A glimmer of approval appeared in them as he moved to pace behind you. You turned to watch him as his boots clicked against the floor and he twirled a cane behind his back.

“Marvellous, my dear! Simply marvellous!” he praised, coming to a stop and stretching his arms out wide with great exaggeration (You hadn’t noticed just how lanky his limbs were until now). His tone was dripping with satisfaction and you couldn’t help but feel a tinge of pride at the fact you had impressed him. Your subconscious was whispering to you that maybe taking his deal wouldn’t be so bad if these were the emotions you got out of it. It had been so long since you showed your music to anyone and his reaction was slowly pulling you towards his clutches.

As you pondered your next move, Alastor’s stare was unwavering. He had moved into a more relaxed position with his arms back behind him, still holding that cane of his. The demon’s presence was a reminder of the choice that lay before you. No matter what choice you made, there was always the certainty that Alastor would continue to be a pest in your life. If you refused his deal then there was nothing stopping him from sticking around until you finally caved or he came up with another proposition.

Exhaustion hit you like a brick wall when your eyes caught sight of the clock on the wall. It was almost two in the morning and you had work later in the day. You groaned and made a move to get up. “Leaving so soon?” the demon didn’t sound the least bit concerned about where you were going. His tone hinted at a secret plan to simply annoy you.

“The night is still young and I’d like another song.” Alastor requested, switching places with you. He now sat at your piano while you stood glaring at him through half-lidded eyes. “I need to get ready for bed,” you sighed, desperately trying to find words as to not offend him. Having an angry demon on your hands sounded worse than giving away your soul at the moment. “I have an early start tomorrow.” you tried to justify yourself.

Instead of a response, Alastor simply slipped away into shadows. You stared confused at the spot where he once sat. That was odd…not a single goodbye or comment. You tried not to linger on it too much and left to do your nightly routine.

The fluorescent light in your bathroom made a light buzzing sound as you turned it on. The tiles were cold on your feet as you shuffled in and grabbed your toothbrush. You knew you were alone now but that all familiar feeling of being watched remained persistent. Glancing nervously in the mirror, you half-expected to see Alastor’s sinister grin staring back at you. All that appeared, however, was your own tired visage which donned bags under its eyes.

After you finished, you left the bathroom and immediately went to change. You grabbed the first set of pyjamas out your drawers and slipped into them with haste. Crawling into bed, you made yourself comfortable and turned out the lamp on your side table. You tried to ignore the creaks of the floorboards and the uncharacteristic cold in the room but it was bothering you too much.

“Still awake there?” came Alastor’s voice from somewhere in the room. You rolled face first into one of your pillows sleepily. You knew he hadn’t left altogether. “Go away, Alastor,” your voice was muffled by fabric as you willed it not to shake. He still made you uneasy but you could manage it as long as you didn’t look him in the eye. “I just want to sleep.” you squeezed your eyes shut tighter and mentally hoped he would take the hint and go.

But Alastor was tenacious, his laughter that filled the room was accompanied by a faint laugh track. “But where’s the fun in that?” he teased, his voice coming from multiple directions at once. “Surely you wouldn’t deny me the pleasure of your company?”

You grit your teeth. Trying to ignore him was almost impossible as his voice bounced off the walls of your room. You tried to block out the sound with your pillow but even that did nothing to muffle it. No matter how hard you tried, sleep remained elusive as your new pest continued to ask you numerous questions purely for his own entertainment.

His insidious whispers penetrated your mind, you could feel them twisting and coiling like serpents, their venomous words seeping into every crevice of your consciousness. With a surge of frustration and fear, you bolted upright, your gaze fixating on the ghastly figure perched at the foot of your bed.

His form was twisted and contorted, limbs elongated and skeletal, like some grotesque parody of the human form. Antlers sprouted from his skull, their jagged points piercing through the walls and ceiling of your room. The glow of his eyes illuminated the darkness, casting an unearthly green hue that seemed to dance with malevolent intent as radio dials ticked within them.

But it was his grin that sent a shiver down your spine, a macabre smile stitched together with glowing green threads that threatened to unravel at any moment. Each stitch seemed to pulse with a sickly light, as if straining against the weight of the demon’s own malevolence.

You narrowed your eyes, your resolve hardening in the face of his unsettling presence. You craved sleep more than anything and if it meant scolding a demon to get it, then so be it. Despite the fear gnawing at the edges of your mind, you refused to cower before this twisted abomination. Your voice was filled with steely determination as you met his gaze and spoke.

“Leave me alone, Alastor.” you commanded, your tone ringing with defiance. The dead serious expression on your face was almost laughable. For a moment, Alastor’s smile faltered and his form shrunk down. A low chuckle crackled from his chest as he disappeared into the darkness, leaving your alone with only the memory of what you saw.

Now that he was gone, you let out the gasping breath you didn’t realise you were holding in. You tried to steady your racing heart as you placed a hand to your chest. With trembling hands, you reached for the lamp on your bedside table, casting a warm glow across the room that banished the shadows to the corners. But even in the soft light, you couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that clung to the air like a suffocating fog.

As you lay back against the pillows, exhaustion weighing heavy on your limbs, you couldn’t help but wonder: Was this only a temporary reprieve? The idea left a nagging sense of dread that picked away at your conscious. If he was like this now, you hated to see what he would pull later on. A demon like him was hound to have more tricks up his sleeve than just shapeshifting.

You were baffled that he even listened to you. Something told you that he was limited to what he could and couldn’t do without a contract between you both. You knew he could probably cause you physical harm given the way he could interact with your environment. So maybe it wasn’t what he could do to you, but rather how much time he had with you. You pushed the thoughts aside for the night and pulled yourself back under the covers.

Lingering fear aside, sleep eventually claimed you, dragging you down into the depths of unconsciousness where dreams and nightmares intertwined in a tangled web of darkness.

[bitchinbarzal]

Here’s an angst idea

After having Wyatt, Mama B, and Mat decided that it was best if Mama B stepped back from her job so that someone could care for their kids 24/7.

Once Hockey season resumes, the weight of everything started to fall on Mama B a lot. 4 kids, and you’re practically a single mother. You have 2 kids in school with active hobbies, a clingy two-year-old and a newborn.

Her husband? He’s either on a roadie or going home late after celebratory drinks.

Then, they had a big fight one night. Mean things were said but Mama B’s stand is “You get to enjoy your life and career while I have to sacrifice mine. I love the kids but isn’t fair and I fear I’m losing my self of identity.”

After Wyatt was born, you’d decided to take the same six month break you’d taken with all of the other kids but as the time went on you felt like you should stay home and be with the kids.

So, you decided to take a leave of absence from the team indefinitely.

In the beginning, it was all fine. You were soaking up the newborn phase and then the off season came around so you didn’t feel any different.

When the season started back up again, Mat would come home telling you all about his day at the rink and you couldn’t help but become sort of jealous. You wondered what your boys were doing, how were the new guys getting on?

You loved Wyatt, this wasn’t about her. It was about feeling isolated from your friends, work and social life.

You sat at home alone watching stories of the devils on road trips, of your husband out drinking with his friends while you were surrounded by your sleeping kids.

During the day, you felt like you didn’t get a moment to breathe. Ryder had hockey practice almost every single night and Ivy was doing something if it was dancing, piano lessons or something. Along with the fact that the kids were still taking ASL lessons on top of all of that.

On Sunday Mat had an afternoon game and by the time he’d returned home you had already made the kids dinner and cleaned up, everything Mat promised to help with.

He walks in and the house is silent, apart from Wyatt’s gurgling.

When he enters the kids playroom he sees them all, you included having a conversation solely in sign language.

He frowns, not being able to depict the whole sentence only a few words.

“What you guys talking about?”

You all turn to look at him, you bounce wyatt in your arms.

“We’re telling Bailey a bedtime story!” Ivy announces proudly.

“You are?” He asks, walking in and picking Bailey up into his lap.

Bailey begins signing to Mat but his dad only frowns “I-I’m sorry bud I don’t know what you’re saying”

“Mat, he can’t hear you” you grumble “He’s not got his cochlear in”

Before Mat can defend himself, try and sign something to Bailey you take the toddler and mumble something about putting him to bed.

When you come back down, Mat has sent the two older kids to the playroom to watch a movie while Wyatt sleeps soundly in her bassinet by the couch.

You begin pottering around, cleaning the kids mess when Mat speaks “What did you get up to today?”

You don’t look up when you say “Same shit, different day”

He chuckles softly “they can be a little much huh?”

You scowl “and how would you know?”

Mat looks taken a back at your tone “what?”

“How would you know, Mat? How would you know what our kids are like; it’s not like you’re ever around”

You drop the rag in your hand and stare at him wildly “Well?”

He stutters “What is wrong with you?”

You let out a loud and tired sigh “What is wrong with me, Mathew is that I am tired! I’m so tired, I’ve never stopped all day since the day we brought Wyatt home and now you’re telling me you know what our kids are like as if you’re ever around!”

“I’m around-“ you laugh at that, laughing so hard you need to hold your stomach.

Mat stands there, looking like Bailey does when he’s in trouble until you stop “Oh sorry, that was a funny joke”

“It wasn’t a joke”

You point “no, you see it was a huge joke just like you Mat”

“You’re being so rude right now” is all he says and you pout, somewhat mocking him

“You know what’s rude Mat? The fact you can’t even speak to your own son” you shrug “because you’re not home to take the lessons that we agreed we would all take for Bailey!”

“I’m busy at the-“

“At the rink yes I know! I know Mat, because I wish I was at the rink, I wish I was with my team, I wish I was still at work!” You cried, angry tears lining your eyes.

He gapes “You’re mad I’m doing my job?”

“No!” You almost scream “I am not mad at you for doing your job, I’m mad at you because you stopped me from doing mine!”

“The NHL was my childhood dream y/n!”

You sob “It was mine too, Mat”

Both of your chests are rising with rapids breaths “I-I love you, Mathew and I love our kids. We have four beautiful babies here with us, but I cannot keep playing a backup role in the Mat show. I won’t do it”

Mat stands up straighter “The Mat show” he mocks “Like I haven’t always done the things you wanted, we moved house because you needed to work in jersey instead of New York, I gave up so much time chasing you while I was a rookie, everything-“

It hurt hearing that, that he felt like winning you over was an inconvenience.

“I never wanted you to chase me mat, and if you’re so resentful of it then maybe we would’ve been better of if you hadn’t tried”

His heart breaks a little, your suggestion that life would be better if you weren’t together definitely stung.

“You get to enjoy your life and career while I have to sacrifice mine, Mathew. I love the kids and I love you but all of this isn’t fair and I fear I’m losing my self of identity”

Mat is rendered speechless, he’s not sure what to say so he asks “Well What do we do now?”

You shrug “I don’t know, I’m going to put the kids to bed”

A little over an hour later you reappear at the kitchen door and he’s sitting with his hands grasping his hair waiting for you. When he hears you his head shoots up to look at you, eyes falling on the bag in your hand.

“Where are You going?”

You shake your head “Not me, you. I think it’s best if you find somewhere else to live for a little while Mat, give us some space”

“You don’t mean that, we can talk about this” he is almost begging and you.

You drop the bag on the floor and sigh “Please Mat, don’t make this harder than it needs to be”

“It should be hard! We need to fight for our marriage y/n”

“No, Mathew we don’t. Text me your training schedule for the next week and we can sort something out with the kids, Wyatt won’t be able to stay over night because she’s breastfeeding but the rest of them are fine”

Mat doesn’t know what to say, he’s at a loss for words this wasn’t angry words you were saying you were calm, collected and thinking this all through.

He was standing right in front of you. His fingers ghosted over your cheeks and he could feel your tears.

“Baby-“

“Please” you whispered “Please just go, I can’t do this”

So he did, and it hurt him so much to go but if that’s what you wanted he would do it. He went into the kids rooms and kissed them all goodnight before he left, residing at an Airbnb that he managed to find on such short notice.

he spent the entire night awake, looking through your Facebook at your wedding photos, you babies pictures all through tears he watched as his family slowly slipped further away from him and he wasn’t sure he could get a grasp on them again.

[canirove]

My neighbour Rúben | Chapter 2

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Masterlist

His name was Rúben. But not Rubén with the accent mark on the e, no. His name had it on the u. And I learnt about it by making a fool of myself. As usual.

I had been working for Lucy for a month, doing it more as a nanny than just a piano teacher. Each day I would pick Julia up from school, take her home, practice for a while, eat something, and play with her until Lucy was back. Some days I would even have dinner with her and put her to bed. It all depended on her mum's schedule.

We were eating some cookies to celebrate that Julia had received a medal at school for winning a race, when someone rang the bell.

"Who is it?" Julia asked.

"I don't know. We aren't expecting anyone and your mum isn't coming until dinner time" I said, getting up from my chair and walking towards the door. When I opened it, there he was. My Chris Evans. He was the last person I was expecting to see.

"Hello again" he said with a big smile.

"Hi" I muttered, already feeling my brain starting to shut down, my jaw slowly falling to the floor.

"Is Lucy home?"

"Rúben!" Julia screamed, jumping at his arms.

"Hello, Julia" he said, picking her up as if she weighed nothing. "What is that?"

"It is a medal! I won a race at school today."

"Congratulations! High five" he said, lifting a huge hand. Julia's next to it was tiny, but I even mine would have looked small. "Is your mum home?"

"Mami is still at work."

"Oh, I see. Is she your nanny?" he said, nodding towards me.

"She teaches me piano but also stays with me if mami has to work. She's my guardian angel."

"Lucky you" Ruben smiled. "I think I'm gonna need one too, because I forgot my keys. Again."

"Oh, silly Rúben" she giggled. 

"Julia, I think you are saying his name wrong. Shouldn't it be Rubén with the accent on the e?" I asked, my brain deciding to work again. It had been too busy looking at that gorgeous man being all cute with her.

"That's on Spanish. I'm Portuguese."

"Oh." That's all I was able to say. Oh. I had tried to look intelligent like, look at me, I know languages. But I ended up making a fool of myself in front of him. Again. 

"It's ok, don't worry. The same happened to Lucy the first time" he said with a charming smile. "Are you also from Spain?" 

"What?" I said. My brain had frozen again after that smile, not being able to process anything else. 

"I asked if you also are from Spain. Like Lucy."

Dear God. He must have thought I was an idiot after having to repeat things twice for me to get them. 

"Oh, no. No, no, no. No." Too many no? Definitely. "I'm from here. Not from Manchester. From London. But from here. England." 

"I figured. You don't have their accent." How was he able to tell, when I had only been able to properly say three words in front of him, still remains a mystery. "Anyway, do you think you could give me the spare key Lucy keeps for me? It's on that drawer over there" he said, putting Julia down. 

"Sure" I replied, moving to pick it. "I guess it is this one? It has your name on it. And with the accent on the u."

"That's the one. I would have asked Roger for his copy, but he was busy."

"No problem" I said while handing him the key, our fingers slightly touching but being enough to make my cheeks feel very warm.

"I guess I'll be seeing you around if you are now Julia's teacher."

"Yep."

"I live on apartment A, so if you ever need anything..." 

I think that my answer was a nod. Or something like that. My brain was, once again, too busy thinking about other things. Like about something I needed and that he could give me. While being naked. Both of us. On his bed. Or his sofa. Or even the floor, to be honest. 

"See you around, neighbours."

"Bye!" Julia replied, closing the door. "Angel, are you ok?"

"Uh?" 

"You look... Weird. Did you not like Rúben?"

"Oh, no. I did." I liked him very much, Julia. Very, very much. "I was just thinking about our cookies. Should we leave one for when your mum comes back from work?"

"Yes!" she said, running towards the kitchen while I just took a big breath, trying to forget about the thoughts going through my mind. And I managed to do it. Though only until I fell asleep that night, when I started having the most pornographic dreams of my life with the hot Portuguese neighbour. With Rúben.

[finchesslingshott]

me and @coffeeistired went on a whole rant together about modern!finch + modern!race and their bestie lore so here you go enjoy

they met each other in an adoption centre and when they went to the same middle school and found each other in class (my brain says like 6th grade when they met) they both got so excited (race/finch creds)

they were practically attached at the hip all through middle and high school, but they had a phase right after they graduated where they both got rlly busy and drifted apart and panicked and finch called race at like two a.m. in tears one night and was like "WE'RE STILL BEST FRIENDS RIGHT YOU DONT HATE ME???" (finch creds)

race reassured him, they had a good talk, and fell asleep on call together (finch creds)

THEY MET UP THE NEXT DAY AT BAR AND FINCH’S DUMB ASS CRASHED ON THE DRIVE HOME 😒 (he has never been able to live this down) (race creds)

finch and buttons were alr dating by then and buttons found finch waiting in the hospital (race broke his arm or smth) and smacked finch upside the head then kissed him (finch creds)

Race used to jokingly guilt trips Finch over that….”what do you meannn ya don’t wanna go to the pet shelter with me? Ya broke my arm! I’m trying to cheer myself up, I don’t wannna go aloneeee :(“ but he stopped after a month or two after he realized Finch might geuninely feel bad (race creds)

and finch did feel bad. immensely. finch literally wouldnt even touch a bottle of beer or smth for literal months and cried so many times over it, he was so scared to lose his and race's friendship because it meant the entire world and then some to him (finch creds)

Right now, Modern!Race is in collage to be an aerospace engineer, he has an internship at a space station(which is how he makes a good portion of his money- using that to pay off collage) and he’s an assistant teacher for the local middle/elmentray school’s special education program, he goes down once or twice a week. He doesn’t tell people his job because he thinks they won’t beilve him since he’s…”too dumb” (race creds)

a lot of race's little students he helps out with take piano lessons (some take voice and/or dance) from finch and finch reports to race what they say about him (finch creds)

BONUS —

in my mind finch is the shortest and he and buttons take the crud out of finch for being small (a mere 5'6") (finch creds)

"we shoulda nicknamed you smalls instead of finch-" "SHUT YOUR MOUTH." (finch creds)

Race has no room to talk he’s short too/J (5’7 1/2) (race creds)

"RACE YOURE AN INCH AND A HALF TALLER THAN ME SHUT YOUR TRAP" “I CANT HEAR YOU FROM DOWN THERE” "I HATE YOU" (finch/race creds)

Meanwhile, Buttons grinning evilly in the background with his 1/2 an inch over Race (buttons creds @thegreatbuttoneer)

"BUTTONS BABY I LOVE YOU BUT NO ONE ASKED ALR???" "youre just mad you have to get on tiptoe to kiss me" "i'm divorcing you" "WE ARENT EVEN MARRIED YET FINCH" (finch creds)

anyways i'm back in my own house so expect a lot of random drabble as we continue the binch revolution, love you guys <333

[agaypanic]

Heyy can i request a reese wilkerson imagine? making out 😓

Caught (Reese Wilkerson X Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: Reese and Y/n get caught making out.

A/N: i love how the emoji makes it seem like anon is stressed about them making out lol also i got stressed about them making out bc writing kissing scenes are hard

***

When Reese invited you to come over, you didn’t think much of it. You two hung out at his house all the time, usually helping him with schoolwork at Lois’ request or eating something he made while watching a show. But you started to realize that he might have had secret motives as you got closer to the Wilkerson house. Reaching the yard, you saw that neither Lois nor Hal were home because the driveway was empty.

“Home sweet home.” Reese sighed contently as he opened the door for you, closing it as you dropped your bag off and went to the kitchen for something to snack on.

“Where is everyone?” You asked, noting the unusual silence in the house. Malcolm usually walked home with you two or was right behind you. And Dewey should have been home because the middle school got out before the high school. But it seemed that you and Reese were the only ones here.

“Looks like it’s just us, Babe.” You could feel the smirk on Reese’s face as he came up behind you, wrapping his arms around you.

“Did you plan this or something?” You turned around in his hold to face him, not really surprised at the thought of him getting his brothers to stay out of the house for a few hours for some alone time. But what did surprise you was instead of him responding, Reese leaned forward to kiss you.

The kiss quickly turned heated. Reese gripped your hips, pushing you against the fridge. Some of the shitty magnets fell off the refrigerator as you ran your fingers through his hair, pulling at the hairs at the nape of his neck. He moaned into your mouth at the feeling, sliding a hand up to cup your cheek.

“Bedroom?” He barely parted from you to speak, going straight back into kissing you. You nodded, realizing that it probably wasn’t best to make out with your boyfriend in the middle of his kitchen.

“Bedroom.” You confirmed, and Reese pulled away to drag you to his room. You giggled at his eagerness, quickly being cut off by his lips on yours again once you got to the door. With one hand on your waist to guide you, he used his free hand to push the door to his room open. He pulled you in, shutting the door with his foot before pushing you against it.

“Thank God no one’s home.” You sighed as Reese parted his lips from yours to start kissing your neck.

“I get you all to myself.” You could feel his smirk on your skin before he started to leave what would soon be dark hickies on you.

“You guys are disgusting.” The sudden monotone voice startled the two of you. You jumped apart before the person could see anything else.

“Dewey, what the hell are you doing here? I thought you had piano practice!” Reese yelled at his younger brother, who stared at the two of you unamusedly. It looked like he had come out from the bathroom connected to the boys’ room, which was why you two didn’t seem to notice him.

“That’s on Wednesdays,” Dewey said nonchalantly, grabbing a random magazine on one of the desks before jumping to sit on his bed.

“Oh my god.” You muttered, leaning your head back against the door. Your boyfriend’s younger brother catching you two making out was embarrassing enough. But the fact that he acted like it was nothing somehow made it worse.

“Dewey, get out,” Reese demanded, staring holes into the back of his head.

“Reese, it’s fine; we can just watch a movie or something.” You said, trying to ease the tension. “I’m honestly not in the mood anymore.”

Reese turned to you, somewhat sad from what you said. You gulped, looking at him. His hair was disheveled, his cheeks were a bright pink, and his lips seemed bruised, all from your previous activities.

“Dewey, get out.” You said, still staring at Reese, who started to smile.

“But-”

“I’ll give you ten bucks; just go anywhere else that’s not here.”

[sepdet]

Have you SEEN the original moon landing feed, especially the scary bit near the end?

Now stay with me. I grew up hearing about these few minutes from my parents (in fact I took the TV they watched it on to grad school; DS9 and Babylon5 worked well in b&w).

This is even crazier than it looks like.

My parents were both scientists, my grandmother a planetarium director, and my dad was just about to land his job at a rocket company that built 95 small rockets that were part of the UpGoer Saturn V. (Yeah. Just the small ones. Saturn V was a BEAST.)

So my parents had a fair idea how dangerous this was, how Neil going manual was a bad sign, and just how close he was to running empty and crashing. They knew the problem that every ounce of fuel you carry requires even more fuel to lift off, so the Eagle was built light, carrying no excess weight even in fuel (it had to lift off the Moon with no rocket, after all).

But they didn't learn until years later just how jury-rigged and bespoke Apollo technology was. Every vehicle and part was designed like a Mythbusters build: extremely customized for the procedures it had to accomplish, using parts and even technology invented for specific mission tasks.

rope memory, predecessor to modern silicon chips: 1s and 0s woven by women (of course) at a Massachusetts textile plant

At the time, computers were the size of rooms and very touchy. Apollo's computer memory was core rope memory, never used before or since, to save space. The read/write guidance computer, too, was woven: physical media could better survive the rigors of space travel. (I suspect even my parents don't know it also used some of the very first integrated circuits, soldered by hand under a microscope by Navajo women).

Spacesuits were (and still are) designed and hand-stitched by Playtex bramakers. The lunar rovers' wheels were titanium meshes woven with piano wire to let dust through, and even had a clever navigation system despite no GPS or magnetic north.

They couldn't test these rigs with computer modeling. They didn't know for sure what the moon's surface would be like, apart from basic parameters like low gravity and near vacuum and a temperature ranging from 250°F in the sun to -250° in the shade. And it was nearly impossible to test for or practice in those conditions on Earth.

And then there were the unknowns. A massive solar flare between Apollo 16 and 17 might have killed or sickened them too much to operate their ship.

While the spacesuit and to some extent the rover design carried on, a lot of these hacks were so unusual that they might as well be alien tech. (I'm sorry woven technology fell out of vogue for several decades.) That goes some way towards explaining why humans haven't left Earth orbit since I was two.

The other problem, of course, is expense. Tech for human space exploration requires as much R&D and testing as fighter planes, which have developed through a century of multiple countries' military budgets. Human space programs are lucky to last two presidents; the next president usually doesn't think giving glory to his predecessor is a good use of money.

So for 40 years, NASA has mostly worked with other countries on human spaceflight or built robot explorers that can be launched in 3-4 years before Congress or the president can axe the program. They're less likely to shut down a mission when 99.99% of the money's been spent, and all that's left to do is download data and uplink occasional instructions.

TL:DR; Congress and the White House keep flashing the equivalent of that computer error message, every time NASA gets ready to send humans into space again. Overload. Abort mission.

Unless, you know, American citizens start saying Go. Go. Go. Go. We have some pretty important priorities down here on Earth (which Amazon and Disney and oil companies should be footing the bill for, though they try not to), but I bet the military can cough up the cost of a few fighter jets.

[notsocheezy]

Brain Curd #128 - Twenty-Minute Tuesday #14

Brain Curds are lightly edited flash fiction - practically first drafts - posted daily (haven't missed one yet!) and sometimes written with the express intention of being terrible… but, you know, in an endearing way. Please like and reblog if you enjoy - the notes keep me going!

I said it was getting easier, but I suppose I lied. Nothing could make it any easier, seeing you drift away into the currents, sitting powerless on the beach covered in sweat and sand and flakes of dry kelp. A sand flea jumps onto my legs and I brush it off. I want to see you for as long as I can. But my glasses are smudged and you are far away. I take a handful of sand and it is warm like you were. We never had a chance.

You float over the horizon. Gone. I let the tears out now, but I stifle my sobbing. This is not my beach. I don’t belong here. I will not sour this day for anyone else. I wipe away what I can with the back of my wrist - I don’t want sand in my eyes, don’t want this beach to become a part of me. I don’t want this to be my life, staring at sand and saltwater searching for you in everything I see, wishing you were here.

But oh, I already do. And for so long I already have. I have seen you in every flower, every painting, every note on my piano or my guitar, and there is no rest for the woozy when I take another hit to sleep. I’m off-beat, off-rhythm, off-gassing, decaying, and why is that when I am the one who’s still here?

Rip me apart like one of your French crullers, consume me, I want to be part of you; if you are gone then I am, too. The stream bends from my consciousness and I drift off from your memory, laughing at the tragedies on TV until this waking presence escapes me and I forget for a moment what I am: pathetic; the one who wanted to save the world and failed to save you.

[spaceoddball1969]

Teach Me - Part 2 (18+)

Hey there all! It has been a minute and I apologize. I had a really fucked up end of my semester and did not have the brain capacity to work on this fic. I will be trying to update this a bit more often from now on but honestly no promises. Also happy holidays! Whatever you celebrate this time of year, I hope you have had a good holiday season and enjoy this little gift of mine to you! Also

PLOT SUMMARY: The reader and Eddie begin to develop their relationship. The reader has a choir concert coming up with her students and Eddie might just feel the need to go to it??? Also like some seriously sexy things may or may not happen in this chapter. They most definitely are going to happen so if you’re under 18 you gotta get the heck out of here. Sorry, but please leave. This is going to be fluffy and smutty and just sappy because damn after the shit I experienced these last few weeks I really need something sappy to restore my faith in humanity. Also please excuse any typos - it’s late.

WARNINGS: Smut, penetrative sex, nipple play, aftercare, fluff, making out. 18+

It had been three weeks since I had stayed at Eddie’s after the Hellfire Club meeting. We had been casually seeing each other in that time, but it had mostly been quick coffees or rushed lunches during my break at the school. My work was keeping me busy as we were getting ready for our first choir concert at the high school. It was a musical theater cabaret show and I eager to show off how talented my students were to the school community. I was honestly doing fine in terms of anxiety until I was having lunch with Eddie in my office one day and he happened to notice the promotional poster I had made for the concert sitting on my desk.

“What’s this?” he asked, picking it up.

“The poster for the choir concert next week,” I said, shoveling a bite of my sandwich into my mouth.

“You have a choir concert next week?” he asked, setting the poster down.

“Yeah, it’s Thursday,” I said.

“And you didn’t tell me about it?” Eddie asked, picking at the chips in the bag he had bought from the vending machine.

“I didn’t think you’d want to come,” I said. “It’s just a high school choir concert,”

“But it’s your high school choir concert,” Eddie said, crunching on a chip.

“You really want to come?” I asked, feeling the heat creep into my cheeks.

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “Besides, isn’t Henderson in your choir?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“So I’ll come support him. But really, I’d love to see you up there directing those little knuckleheads,” Eddie smirked.

“Ok,” I said, “it’s at seven next Thursday,”

“I’ll be there,” he said.

That was when the real anxiety set in. Even though I knew Eddie didn’t know the first thing about choral conducting, I still felt self conscious about being up there on stage for him to observe for an entire concert. I spent all of Thursday afternoon after school running through the set in my head, practicing the conducting patterns to myself, and working on the piano accompaniment for the student’s solo performances. I spent far too much time re-thinking through my outfit. I knew that I would not have the time to go to my apartment to change between when school ended and when I needed to be back for the concert, so I had packed my concert clothes that morning. I had decided on a black turtle neck with a black pencil skirt and patent leather heals with sheer black tights. I hoped it would look ok but now I was not so certain.

Once I had finished my planning for my other classes, I double checked the stage to make sure all of our equipment was in the right place and then I went to hide in my office until the students showed up.

They arrived at six and we walked through some of the staging and then I led them through vocal warm-ups. Once we were finished, I set them loose to get water and go to the bathroom before they got in their places on stage. As I stood from the piano, Dustin Henderson approached me with a wild grin on his face. He looked sharp, dressed in all black with a green bow tie. The kid was very quickly becoming my favorite student.

“Eddie’s gonna come tonight,” he said to me with a toothy grin. “Did he tell you?’

“Yeah,” I said. “He let me know last week that he’d be here tonight,”

“He wouldn’t stop talking about it,” Dustin said. “I think he was really excited about it,”

“That’s sweet,” I said. “I’m glad he’s excited,”

Despite having spent time outside of school with Dustin I still did not totally know how I should be interacting with him. He was one of my best students and I definitely favored him, but I couldn’t let the others know that. I also wasn’t too keen to be discussing my love life with a seventeen year old boy.

“Ok, go get some water and get in place,” I said. “I’ll see you out there,”

Dustin nodded and then strode off to get settled for the concert. I gathered my music folder from my office and then followed my students out to the auditorium. Just as I was about to step through the doorway to the backstage area of the auditorium, I saw a tall figure rushing down the hallway. I turned to get a better look at who it was and saw Eddie Munson wearing dark blue jeans and a worn out red button down. He looked flustered but he froze when he saw me standing there.

“Wow,” he said. “You look incredible,”

“I have to go conduct a concert,” I said, awkwardly.

“I better go find a seat,” he said.

I watched him rush into the auditorium before I stepped backstage. My students were already in their places for their first song on the risers. I took one long look at them before stepping on stage and I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed with how much I loved them.

The concert went off without a hitch. The ensemble numbers sounded better than I had ever heard them. The soloists ate it up as their friends and families cheered them on. By the end of the show I felt like I was floating on air. 

I let the students and the audience clear out first and then I followed them into the choir room. My students and I started cheering in excitement. A few of them even hugged me and I couldn’t help but squeeze them back. After a few minutes of congratulations, I retreated to my office to collect my things and to have a minute to myself. Most of the students had cleared out once they had gathered their things. There was only one or two stragglers.

“Eddie’s out there,” I heard a voice call into my office. I looked up and saw Dustin standing in my doorway. “I already saw him, he said he was going to wait out there for you,”

“Send him in when you step out,” I said. 

“Will do,” Dustin said, saluting me.

As the last few students left, Eddie stepped into the choir room. He peaked his head into my office with a wicked grin on his face.

“Ok so you’re awesome yeah?” he said as he stepped into my office.

“It’s the students,” I said. “They did so well tonight.”

“Yeah but they’re only able to do so well because of what you teach them,” he said, stepping closer to me. Eddie wrapped his arms tightly around my waist and pulled me against him. “Seriously, you’re amazing,”

“Thank you,” I smiled.

Eddie returned my smile and dipped his head lower to press a soft kiss to my lips. We hadn’t been very physical since our first night together and it took everything in me not to completely lose myself in this kiss.

“Wanna go out and celebrate?” he asked.

“Oh, I’d love to but I am so drained,” I said, resting my forehead on his chest. 

“Then let’s go back to my place,” he said. “We can have a drink, you could stay over if you want.”

“I guess I could do that,” I said. “Yeah that sounds great. Can we get food or something though? I didn’t eat dinner and I am starving,”

“I will get you anything that you want,” Eddie smiled.

“Pizza?” I asked.

“Absolutely,” Eddie said, pressing another kiss to my lips.

“Let’s go,” I said.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Eddie gave me his key to the store so I could let myself in while he got the pizza for us. I wandered up to his apartment and set my things down before I made my way back down to the store. I awkwardly looked around the store as I waited for Eddie to get back. I had just started looking through a stack of used vinyls behind the counter when I heard the bell go off and saw Eddie walking through the door. 

“Food has arrived,” Eddie smiled as he locked the door behind him. “You can bring some of those upstairs if you want to. I’ve been meaning to give them a listen to make sure they aren’t too beat up to sell,”

I picked out a couple records and followed Eddie up the stairs to his apartment. While Eddie got out plates for our pizza and beer for each of us, I sorted through the stack of albums I had brought up. At the bottom of the stack there was a record I had not realized I had picked up. It was a greatest hits collection of Elvis Presley tunes. I smiled happily at the record and hoped to God that it wasn’t too scratched up by its previous owner.

When the lyrics of “Heartbreak Hotel” popped out of the speaker, I heard Eddie call my name from the kitchen.

“Did you really just put on Elvis?” he asked.

“Yes?” I asked as I walked into the kitchen. “Is that a problem?”

“No,” Eddie said, handing me a plate. “I just didn’t expect it,”

“I was raised on Elvis,” I said. “My dad loves him,”

“Yeah my mom was a big fan,” Eddie said, leading me to the living room. “God, I haven’t listened to his music in ages,”

“I didn’t realize I had grabbed the record from downstairs,” I said. “It was in the bottom of the stack,”

“Well, I’m glad you grabbed it,” Eddie said as he sat down.

I sat down with him and within seconds was devouring my pizza. I relished in the taste of the food. I also was very much enjoying the heat that I could feel radiating off of Eddie next to me. He looked remarkably handsome in his black jeans and red button down. His hair was absolutely wild tonight and there seemed to be a gleam to his eye.

I was content to sit and talk and eat pizza and listen to Elvis for the rest of the night, but then a particular song came on the speaker. The opening horns of “Trouble” blared through the room and Eddie jumped up from the couch. He immediately launched into a full on performance of the song. I couldn’t help but laugh as Eddie tossed himself around the room, using his beer bottle as a microphone. By the second verse, Eddie was pulling me up by my hands and dragging me into his performance. He held me close as I laughed at his silliness. 

But then that gleam reappeared in Eddie’s eyes and I felt my heart start to beat faster. I let Eddie pull me tight against him and wrapped my arms around his neck. His eyes were locked on mine as he pressed a firm kiss to my lips. Eddie wrapped his arms tightly around my waist, holding close to him as he deepened the kiss. I was getting lost in it just as the beat picked up in the song.

The change in the music shocked me and I jumped away from Eddie. We both stared at each other for a moment and then I started collecting our empty plates.

“We better get these cleaned up,” I said and rushed into the kitchen.

By the time I had the plug in the sink and the soap bubbling up, the next song on the record had started playing.

I heard him before I felt him. Soft footsteps approached me and then I felt one of his arms gently wrap around my waist from behind me. He used his other hand to brush the hair away from my neck and then placed a soft kiss agaisnt my sensitive skin.

“I didn’t mean to overwhelm you,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry if that was too much,” 

I sighed and rested my hand over his on my waist. “It’s ok,” I said. “I didn’t mean to run away. I don’t want you to think that I don’t want to be with you. I just don’t want to rush into anything and I don’t always feel like I am in control of myself when I’m with you,”

“Would that be so bad?” Eddie asked, kissing my neck again. “Would it be all that bad if you let yourself go a little?”

“The last time I did that I got screwed over,” I said. “I let him have every part of me and he left without even looking back,”

“Can you turn around?” Eddie asked. I did as I was asked. Eddie stroked both sides of my face gently with his hands and then rested them on either side of me on the counter so that I was caged within his arms. “I’m not going to do that to you,”

“How can you possibly know that?” I asked.

“Because I would have to be crazy to even think about leaving you,” Eddie said. “I know we haven’t known each other all that long, but I feel a real connection with you. And I want to work on it. I want to build it. I want you to trust me,”

“I do trust you,” I said.

“Ok,” Eddie said. And then he looked back at the record player in the living room.”Don’t” had started playing. “Then dance with me,”

“What?” I asked.

“Dance with me,” Eddie repeated. “Come here,”

I let Eddie intertwine our fingers and wrap an arm around my waist. He pulled me away from the counter and we began to sway around the kitchen. 

“I know you don’t believe me when I say that I’m not going to hurt you,” Eddie said, “but I really mean it. I’m sorry that your last boyfriend ran off, but I’m not going to do that. I’m here to stay and you’re going to have to live with that,”

I looked up at Eddie and locked my eyes on his. He didn’t look away. He didn’t even think about it. I felt a sensation that I couldn’t explain taking over me. I didn’t know if I wanted to laugh or cry, maybe both. All I knew was I was standing in the arms of an incredible man who was telling me everything that I needed to hear. And better yet, I believed him.

I pushed myself up onto my tip toes and pressed my lips to Eddie’s, letting myself get caught up in the feeling of our connection. He pulled me against him and kissed me over and over. I couldn’t stop kissing him back. It was an overwhelming feeling that I didn’t want to let go of. 

I heard the record stop playing and figured me we must be at the end of the first side. Eddie pulled away from me and hurried off to take the record off the stereo. 

“So, uh,” Eddie stumbled. “Uh, that was really nice,”

“Yeah it was,” I said, feeling the heat creep into my cheeks.

He looked down at the floor for a moment and fiddled with his hair.

“Eddie?” I asked.

“Yeah?” he said, lifting his head up.

“Would you please come back over here?” I asked.

Eddie smiled and within seconds I was back in his arms. He began to kiss me again, wrapping his arms around my waist and picking me up just a few inches off the floor. I giggled and held on tightly to him. “Can we take this out of the kitchen?” I asked.

“Uh yeah,” Eddie said and then started to stutter. “Where were you thinking?”

“Well the best option would probably be your room,” I said.

“Oh, uh yeah,” Eddie said. He let me go and then wrapped his hand around mine. “Let’s go,”

Eddie led me to his room and then closed the door behind us. He left the light off and approached me slowly in the dim light. Eddie’s hands snaked around my waist again as he began to kiss my neck. I couldn’t help but sigh at the feeling of his lips against my skin. 

“Do you like that?” he asked.

“Yes,” I nearly moaned.

Eddie’s hands squeezed my hips as he kissed my neck over and over again. He kept fidgeting with my turtle neck, trying to find a way for his lips to reach my skin.

“Eddie,” I said. “You can take it off,” 

“Hmm?” he asked, busying with his work.

“Take off my shirt,” I said.

Eddie’s head lifted and his eyes met mine. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said.

Eddie nodded and then gripped the hem of my shirt. He lifted it over my head, exposing my black bra. Eddie tossed my shirt on the floor and turned back to look at me. I saw his mouth go a little slack and he let out a short breath. 

“You’re beautiful,” he said with a soft smile and then paused. “Can I - is it ok if - I mean - can I touch you?”

“Yes,” I said, smiling slightly at his cautiousness. “I didn’t think you’d be so polite,” I added with a giggle.

“I want you to be comfortable,” Eddie said, lifting his eyes to mine. “I want you to feel safe. And we don’t have to do everything tonight if you don’t want,”

“Let’s start here and I’ll let you know if I want to stop,” I said.

Eddie nodded slowly and then rested his hands on my waist. Eddie pressed a kiss to my lips and then began kissing all over my face. He moved down to my jaw line and then my neck. Now that it was exposed, he didn’t hold anything back. I moaned as he trailed kisses over my throat and nipped at the soft skin. Eddie’s hands started to travel upward over my torso. I felt a chill run up my spine as his rough skin brushed against mine. 

“Is this ok?” Eddie asked against my neck. His hands started creeping closer to my breasts.

“Yes,” I said, pulling him closer. “Don’t stop, Eddie,”

That was all the encouragement he needed. Eddie held me by my waist with one hand while the other slipped over the silky fabric of my bra. I gasped at the feeling. He gently squeezed my chest as his lips returned to mine.

I wanted to feel Eddie in the same ways that he was feeling me. I could hardly think about what I was doing before my hands were reaching forward to unbutton the front of his shirt and pushing it off his shoulders. I let my hands run over his skin, feeling every groove and crevice of his torso. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed our bodies together, aching to feel his skin on mine. When our bare torsos met I almost drowned in the feeling.

“Eddie,” I said. “I want more,”

“What?” he asked, pulling away.

I clung to him, scared that he would pull away entirely. “I want more,” I said again. “I want you. All of you,”

Eddie looked me in the eye for a moment, trying to get a read on what I was thinking. I didn’t dare to break his glance. He leaned forward and kissed me slowly and deeply. I felt a rush of heat pulse through my body. It was most apparent in my core and slowly was creeping between my legs. 

Eddie began to push us towards the bed. He sat down on the edge of the mattress and pulled me closer until I stood between his legs. He eventually broke away from our kiss and began to kiss down my torso until he reached the hem of my skirt. His fingers fiddled with the zipper on the side.

“Can I?” he asked and I nodded. Eddie slowly unzipped the skirt and pulled it down my legs. He slipped his fingers into the waistband of my tights and pulled them down until I could step out of them. 

I felt cold suddenly and quite bare standing in front of him in nothing but my underwear. Eddie’s hands found their place on my waist again and he pulled me closer until I had to climb into his lap. I straddled him, holding onto his shoulders for balance. Eddie began to kiss me again and I soon found myself lost in the feeling again. Swiftly and gently he flipped us over so that I was lying on my back on the bed and he was hovering over my body.

“You are so gorgeous,” he said between kisses. 

“I want to see more of you,” I said kissing him desperately.

“Whoa we’re bold now,” Eddie chuckled.

“Hey it’s only fair,” I said. “I’m over here in my underwear and you still have a whole pair of pants on,”

“I guess that makes sense,” Eddie said with a smile. “Do you want to do the honors?”

“No, I’d rather watch you do it,” I said with a smirk.

Eddie grinned and kissed me one more time before he stood up. I pushed myself up onto my elbows and watched as he unbuckled his belt and undid the zipper on his jeans. I felt a new rush of heat between my thighs when he pulled his pants down to his ankles. He was truly beautiful and I didn’t know how to handle it.

“Like what you see?” Eddie asked shyly.

“Yeah,” I said, crawling towards the edge of the bed. I sat up on my knees and reached out for him. “Come here,” I said as he stepped closer to me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him over and over. Eddie’s hands traveled down my torso to my hips. I felt his hands glide over my ass and then grip the backs of my thighs. Suddenly he pulled against them, sending me flying back on the bed. I shrieked with the sudden movement but then Eddie was over me again, holding me still.

“Sorry,” Eddie giggled. “Didn’t mean to scare you,”

“It’s ok,” I said, giggling with him. “Just come here,”

We were wrapped in each other’s arms for longer than I could comprehend. It kept getting better by the moment and I never wanted it to end. Eddie finally reached behind me and unhooked my bra. It was tossed to the floor and Eddie quickly attached his mouth to one of my nipples. I moaned at the sensation. Eddie looked up at me as my moans got louder.

“God,” Eddie said. “Please don’t ever stop making those sounds,”

I giggled at his remark but when I felt his teeth graze the skin of my nipple, my giggle became a moan once more. “Oh God, Eddie,” I said, burrying my hands into his hair. “That’s so good,” I said.

“Yeah?” he asked. “You like that?”

“Yes,” I gasped. “Don’t stop,”

“Anything for you,” he said.

I felt a pulse strengthening between my legs. With Eddie slotted between my thighs, I started to grind up against him. I gasped when I felt his hard-on through his boxers. My hands slid down my his sides until I was grasping at his hips. I pulled at his body, desperately trying to bring him closer to me. Eddie started to groan as our bodies started to rub against each other in just the right way.

“You’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing that,” Eddie groaned as he kissed my throat.

“I want you, Eddie,” I said. “I need you,”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said. “I think I’d lose my mind if we stopped now,”

Eddie chuckled and kissed me quickly on the mouth before climbing off the bed. He searched through his dresser drawer and pulled out a box of condoms. I felt my heart rate pick up slightly as I watched him take out one of the condoms and tear open the package. Eddie slipped his boxers off and if I thought his body was beautiful before, it was perfect now. He rolled the condom on and then walked over to the bed. It was hard not to stare at his body as Eddie leaned over me. I felt his fingers slip under the waistband of my panties and then they were off and discarded on the floor.

Eddie climbed back over me and began kissing me gently. I let my hands explore his body and I began to pull him closer to me again. “Eddie,” I said. “I’m ready. I want this. Just go slow,” 

“Ok,” Eddie said with one final kiss.

He reached down to line himself with my entrance. Anticipation filled my entire body and then he was pushing into me. I gasped at the feeling and my body quickly began adjusting itself to his size. Eddie and I both groaned as he bottomed out inside of me. 

“Oh my God,” Eddie moaned in the most filthy tone I had ever heard. “Are you ok?”

“Yes,” I gasped. “It feels incredible,”

“Yeah, it does,” Eddie said.

He slowly started to pump in and out of me, eliciting even more pornographic moans from the both of us. It had never felt like this before. I had never experienced anything like this. For a moment I wondered if this is what it always should have felt like and I had just been missing out for most of my adult life.

“More, Eddie,” I gasped. “Go harder,”

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said firmly. “I want it,”

He didn’t hesitate. Eddie started to pick up his pace and I knew I wouldn’t last much longer. Eddie seemed close as well. I held onto him and pushed myself up to meet his motions. Eddie’s arms faultered just slightly over me, pressing his chest against mine. 

“You’re gonna make me cum,” Eddie said.

“Cum for me,” I said. “Please, cum for me, Eddie,”

“Only if you cum too,” Eddie groaned.

His words sent me over the edge. I nearly screamed as my orgasm tore through me. As my body spasmed beneath him, Eddie let out one final moan and his body began to shudder. He collapsed over me and I clung onto him. We held each other for what felt like an eternity. As we both caught our breath, Eddie began kissing every inch of my body. He finally made it back up to my lips and then brushed the hair out of my face.

“That was amazing,” Eddie said.

I smiled and kissed him. “That was amazing,” I repeated.

“Come on,” Eddie said. “I’ll clean you up,”

He picked me up from the bed and then took me to the bathroom. He pealed the condom off his body once he had set me down and tossed it in the trash. Then he turned the sink faucet on and ran a wash cloth under the warm water. He cleaned himself off and once the cloth was rinsed, he walked over to me. Eddie knelt in front of me and kissed my thighs. He ran the cloth over my skin and washed away any lube left on my skin from the condom. 

Once we were both clean, I pulled on one of his old T-shirts and my earlier discarded panties and crawled into bed. Eddie crawled in beside me and pulled me close. He pressed a soft kiss to my lips then rested his head on the pillow. I rested my head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Eddie whispered.

“Goodnight, Eddie,” I said contentedly.

I fell asleep quickly and slept better than I had in a long, long time. 

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Hi!! I don’t know if you write this kind of stuff, but after the 3rd episode of TLOU I’ve been dying for this. Would you be able to write something about Dad!Bill x daughter!reader and how growing up in the apocalypse would be like with him and Frank?? Like how Bill would be as a father, and all the cute things that they get to do with Frank (who would be kind of like an adoptive father)?

I do!! I love writing things like this 🫶🏽🫶🏽

Bro but I loved this episode, they remind me of my gay uncles that both died a few years ago and one of them was named bill so ❤️❤️

Love me the way I want you to

When your dad had found Frank, you were just a kid. So you didn’t exactly know what went on.

You were confused with him at first, but quickly got used to him. It was fun with them. You three always had the best adventures you could.

One of your favorite memories is when Frank invited some people, you were a teenager, and you were just watching them. It was rare to see other people. But Tess and Joel came around sometimes.

3 years later. And sure, it was odd having two dads as a teenage girl, and they didn’t exactly understand everything you did or said, but you still loved them.

You all had fun, and you’ve been living with Frank for 6 years now. He was an odd guy. But you guys always had fun.

Sometimes, he would paint. He was a good painter. He also learned how to play the piano, because you had taught him.

“It’s easy, I promise.” You said, beaming.

“Alright, alright.” He said, sitting down as you stood up beside him.

Your dad watched, with a smile on his face.

Now, he played the piano all the time. And Bill didn’t complain this time.

——-

And now it was 2023. Growing up in an apocalypse may not have been ideal, and they may have been older now, but you still loved them. I mean, bill was your dad, you had to love him.

Frank painted and painted, it was a painting of Bill.

Bill loved his paintings. Every single one. They were gorgeous, and he even painted you once.

“Frank, this is…” you said.

“Amazing.” Bill said, as you looked at him and then back to the painting.

———

“Did you take your pills?” Bill asked Frank at dinner.

“No.” He said, and he struggled to open the bag. You grabbed it and opened it for him.

You counted them and gave him the ones he needed, and he took them.

And then you helped Bill carry him into the bed. He always struggled.

“Thank you. Goodnight, love you.” He told you, giving you a quick hug as you smiled and left them alone.

Then Bill got situated and he fell asleep. He fell asleep for a while.

———

“I promise you I’m gonna stay up.” Frank argued.

“Why?”

“Because this is my last day.”

It was the day knew would come, you sat down in the living room as Frank explained his worries.

“What if- what if we find a doctor?”

“Who’s coming Bill? The doors to doors MRI salesman? There wasn’t anything to cure this before the world fell apart.”

Bill and you didn’t say anything, he was shocked.

“Bill, (your name). Bill.” He looked at Frank with tears in his eyes. And you were almost crying too.

As Frank explained the day, he was asking for Bill to practically kill him.

“I can’t.” Bill sobbed.

You were crying too, you wiped your tears away.

“Do you love me?”

“Yes.”

“Then love me the way I want you to.”

[fuckmeyer]

I’m certain this is over 500 words but I am dying to hear more about all of this. I genuinely tried to cut but I could not make up my mind - silk tie anon (still workshopping the name here, not sure I want to be know for Edward’s clothing/buns all that bad):

Edward had threaded one hand through my hair and was mindlessly curling strands around his finger, sweeping them off my shoulder, bringing them to his lips. My nails traced mindless patterns on his other hand wrapped around my waist.

The intimacy and burn of his fingers on my skin made me remember with striking emotion how much I missed him touching me, how starved I was.

We breathed in unison. Every other moment, a faint static would pulse down my body. At first, I thought it was him flinching, but it was rhythmic and soft. Like was responding to me. Like our bodies were syncing up. In a good way.

I sighed. “I wish it could be like this all the time.”

He caught my hand in his and brought the back of it to his lips.

“Em’s obsessed with carbon-neutral cabins now,” said Edward. “I should ask him to build us one.”

I could practically hear the smile on him.

Usually, I would balk and respond along the lines of No way, Jose.

Cactus Bella would’ve, anyway.

“That’d be nice,” I said. Edward hmm’d in response, just as surprised by my reaction as I was. “We could watch the sunset every night. It’d have to have a tiny art studio, though. With a view.”

“Yes. Art studio in the attic, recording studio in the basement.”

“And a library.”

“The rest of the house is a library. Every room has at least one floor-to-ceiling bookshelf.”

“And we could decorate and hang up pictures. And we’d never pay rent.”

“And I would make tea for you every morning and dinner for you every night. We would stay there for weeks at a time.”

“Months.”

“Years.”

“Forever.”

“Forever,” he echoed. It sounded off.

The sun dropped into the horizon.

“Twilight, again,” I remembered him saying at prom. “No matter how perfect the day is, it always has to end….”

At prom, it had sounded romantic.

Here, it haunted me.

We didn’t speak. Only dying birdsongs and classical music filled the silence.

Before he could wallow in his forever comment, I asked, “So what's on the menu for tonight?” gesturing with my head to the tiny stereo. “Wagner, to celebrate my being done reading that freak Nietzsche?”

“Hah hah. As if this was remotely Wagnerian.” For a moment he tensed underneath me; his faltering chuckle returned. “I was wondering when you’d say something. What do you think?”

It was the smoothest-sounding music I’d ever heard—that’s what I thought. Every note was correct and on key and on beat and every instrument played with exact preciseness. It felt more like the whole song was just one fluid, resonating harmonic note to the next. A dream. A fantasy.

What set it apart were the colors. They jumped off the track. Purples and orangey-yellows, mostly, but the piano sounded like the greenest grass Forks had ever grown.

“Unedited thoughts only,” he warned me.

“You know what it reminds me of?” I said, patting his knee. “Debussy. With a little Emile Pandolfi zhuzh to it. Or like if Rachmaninov woke up one day and decided to write something a little more understated.”

“Classical influences with modern touches.”

“Exactly.”

“Dramatic?”

“In good way. Y’know? Not so cloying and loud.”

“Calmer.”

“Yeah. Less struggle. If that makes sense.”

“Interesting.” He tried keeping an even face but his eyes lit up. He nuzzled his face into my collar. “But the real question: do you like it?”

“Hell yeah. That’s my biased opinion. You know I like your recs.”

“Except Bobby Vinton.”

“Fifties trash,” I said with a dismissive shrug, “what can you say?”

“I’d say your taste in men is better than your taste in music, and that’s not saying much.”

His voice was jovial—and false.

—No, not false.

Shaken with a sheepish nervousness. Embarrassment?

I laid back against his chest. Puzzle pieces assembled in my head, so loud and clear I would assume he could hear me coming to my conclusions.

Edward was nervous.

All night, he’d been nervous.

The good kind of nervous.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll bite. Tell me.”

Laying against him, I could feel excitement coursing through him.

“Hm?”

“There’s a speech you’re not telling me,” I said. Edward broke into a smile but looked down so I wouldn’t see it. The anticipation he carried with him felt like live wires on my skin. “You’re dying to say it. Mhm. Something overwrought. Or some super nerdy, esoteric lecture, I bet. Yeah. The blues speech. The classical music. There’s a theme going on here.” He laughed. “Tell me. Who’s this dead guy and why do I care?”

“The tongue on you.” His lips kissed my temple, tickled the shell of my ear when he spoke. “That dead guy is me, thank you very much.”

“Huh?” I whipped around to face him with an open-mouthed smile. “No way.”

“Yes, way. Wrote and performed.”

“This? Really? You wrote this? Really?” As I talked, I moved to straddle him, my hands on his shoulders, the side of his neck. Brassy golds and jewel-toned purples swirled through the music drifting between us. “That’s so cool!”

This, like everything else about Edward, seemed otherworldly in its grace and beauty. It felt like listening to the future of music—refined to an even higher degree of perfection.

Of course this was his.

“Is it so hard to believe?”

Now my hands played nervously with the locks of his hair that sat at the nape of his neck. “No, it’s just, you said you hadn't written anything since the 70s, and the colors are just—I mean it’s perfect, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, but, just—wow."

"Eloquent as always."

"This is amazing work. Wow!” It felt like I radiated so much joy, my cheeks burned. “Congratulations, oh my god. It’s great. It’s brilliant. I take back all the ‘dead guy, don’t care’ stuff. Lecture me up.”

“You assume I have more to say?”

I snickered, raking my hand through his hair and pulling on it. He purred. “Six words? You? Please,” I said, and he laughed. “What d’you got for me? Historical context? Music theory? Behind-the-scenes anecdote? You gotta unedit, y’know.”

Getting Edward to share any of his compositions had been, up until now, impossible. He had informed me several times he hadn’t written anything since the 1970s. Any time I’d ask, he’d just come up with some medley of songs by others, or he’d improvise.

“It’s a lullaby.” Beat. “Your lullaby.” Another beat. “I wrote it for you.”

I blinked. Stilled.

“For me?” My hand fell back to his chest, leaving his hair a wild, sculpted mess. Edward watched my face fall and eyes drift toward the speaker; his brows knit. “A lullaby? For me?”

Edward laughed, nervous, and pressed a button on the stereo.

"Happy birthday," he murmured to me.

Instruments jumped into that first note, springing to life with a harmonized breathlessness that reminded me of sky blue, lavender, spots of gold, and brown. An overwhelming, bright, vibrant first measure calmed into a languid, inquisitive piano.

Oftentimes, a song would have competing colors, for better or for worse. Anything I wanted to paint would require several relistenings and a full-on moodboard before the oil would ever hit the canvas.

Art supplies were expensive—you had to be sure of your vision.

But this. This was gorgeous. Like it had been written with the intention of being ready for the canvas.

For me.

“It’s been in my mind for a while now. At first, they were just bits of melodies you’ve given me from our time together. The happy, sunny times.”

“Like a tapestry of little memories?” I joked, voice thick with emotion.

“In the middle of the night, if you start tossing, I hum it to you. I think you like it. It calms you down.” He grinned. “You stop trying to kick me, anyway.”

“Which memories did you use?”

“G-minor, when you first spoke to me—that was the first measure. The first night I stayed over. Picking wild blackberries for you on the way to the meadow. And— Do you remember the second time we took the truck to that forest a couple miles north of Goat Rocks?” I frowned. “In July? We played Nickel Nock in the truckbed? You were asking about the—"

“Fireflies,” we finished in unison. I laughed. “Duh!” I told him it’d been the first time I’d seen one in person. Edward turned off the lamp and caught one for me in his hands just so I could see it up close. I smiled wide. “The little chimes in background. Is that them? The fireflies?”

“Perceptive.”

Tears threatened to spill over; I wiped one away from the corner with my thumb.

hey Silk Buns anon, you can choose your own nickname as far as i'm concerned. i love you

COME NIGHTFALL CHAPTER 3: DATE - DVD COMMENTARY

[i haven't read this chapter since i posted it lmao OOP-]

Edward had threaded one hand through my hair and was mindlessly curling strands around his finger, sweeping them off my shoulder, bringing them to his lips. My nails traced mindless patterns on his other hand wrapped around my waist.

The intimacy and burn of his fingers on my skin made me remember with striking emotion how much I missed him touching me, how starved I was.

We breathed in unison [ok but fr breathing in unison w/ ur partner is relaxing as fuck]. Every other moment, a faint static would pulse down my body. At first, I thought it was him flinching, but it was rhythmic and soft. Like was responding to me. Like our bodies were syncing up. In a good way.

[it's wild how many hints i dropped about the mating bond. i was resolved to put it in the fic because it was an unexplored part of smeyer's lore & an interesting creative challenge (much like imprinting, although that's more about fixing mistakes than fleshing out a concept). but i didn't have the mechanics of mating hammered out at all. details like this are fun to come back to because they ended up fitting perfectly.]

I sighed. “I wish it could be like this all the time.”

He caught my hand in his and brought the back of it to his lips.

“Em’s obsessed with carbon-neutral cabins now,” said Edward. “I should ask him to build us one.” [something something By Starlight Chapter 9: Envoy]

I could practically hear the smile on him.

Usually, I would balk and respond along the lines of No way, Jose.

Cactus Bella would’ve, anyway. [Cactus Bella should have come back]

“That’d be nice,” I said. Edward hmm’d in response, just as surprised by my reaction as I was. “We could watch the sunset every night. It’d have to have a tiny art studio, though. With a view.” [this would be in the attic]

“Yes. Art studio in the attic [HEY!!!!], recording studio in the basement.”

“And a library.” [i picture them having a tiny cabin with a loft, lots of plants, artwork, cozy chairs, one of those little roller ladders for their library, & tons of windows that overlook the forest below. i'm projecting my own desires btw]

“The rest of the house is a library. Every room has at least one floor-to-ceiling bookshelf.” [get you a fanfic Edward Cullen who says "YES, AND"!!!]

“And we could decorate and hang up pictures. And we’d never pay rent.” [i can't imagine how much Bella hates dealing with landlords. from her describing her experiences delivering Renee's late rent to telling Phil to pay rent early to "get the landlord off Renee's back" to her doing DIY plumbing repairs, it feels like she does everything in her power to avoid getting a landlord in her hair. honestly, mood.]

“And I would make tea for you every morning and dinner for you every night. We would stay there for weeks at a time.”

“Months.”

“Years.”

“Forever.”

“Forever,” he echoed. It sounded off.

The sun dropped into the horizon.

“Twilight, again,” I remembered him saying at prom. “No matter how perfect the day is, it always has to end….”

[so interesting, this shift we see in Edward by the end of Come Nightfall/beginning of By Starlight. in ITA he insists there is an end to all things (especially the self). contrast this with BS Chapter 1: Ultimatum where he insists Bella isn't terminal. he's able to rationalize that he can't keep Bella, but the more he falls in love with her, the less he wants to stand by his assertion that there is an end to all things...]

At prom, it had sounded romantic.

Here, it haunted me.

We didn’t speak. Only dying birdsongs and classical music filled the silence.

Before he could wallow in his forever comment, I asked, “So what's on the menu for tonight?” gesturing with my head to the tiny stereo. “Wagner, to celebrate my being done reading that freak Nietzsche?” [i was reading The Gay Science at the time. sadly, the book does not cover homosexuality]

“Hah hah. As if this was remotely Wagnerian.” For a moment he tensed underneath me; his faltering chuckle returned. “I was wondering when you’d say something. What do you think?”

It was the smoothest-sounding music I’d ever heard—that’s what I thought. Every note was correct and on key and on beat and every instrument played with exact preciseness. It felt more like the whole song was just one fluid, resonating harmonic note to the next. A dream. A fantasy.

[in the early stages of drafting these fics, i list bullet points of things that i think would be cool to write. at the climax of New Moon, instead of exposing himself to humans, i thought it'd be fun if Edward had turned Bella's lullaby into an anti-Volturi operatic work that he would play throughout Volterra on St Marcus' Day. not all ideas are good ideas]

What set it apart were the colors. They jumped off the track. Purples and orangey-yellows, mostly, but the piano sounded like the greenest grass Forks had ever grown. [Bella has chromesthesia. light spoilers?, this comes back later]

“Unedited thoughts only,” he warned me.

“You know what it reminds me of?” I said, patting his knee. “Debussy. With a little Emile Pandolfi zhuzh to it. Or like if Rachmaninov woke up one day and decided to write something a little more understated.”

“Classical influences with modern touches.”

“Exactly.”

“Dramatic?”

“In good way. Y’know? Not so cloying and loud.”

“Calmer.”

“Yeah. Less struggle. If that makes sense.”

“Interesting.” He tried keeping an even face but his eyes lit up. He nuzzled his face into my collar. “But the real question: do you like it?”

“Hell yeah. That’s my biased opinion. You know I like your recs.”

“Except Bobby Vinton.” [deleted a whole scene about Bella and Edward arguing over how much Bobby Vinton sucks, so this was my compromise]

“Fifties trash,” I said with a dismissive shrug, “what can you say?” [SO true bestie]

“I’d say your taste in men is better than your taste in music, and that’s not saying much.” [HEY!]

His voice was jovial—and false.

—No, not false.

Shaken with a sheepish nervousness. Embarrassment?

I laid back against his chest. Puzzle pieces assembled in my head, so loud and clear I would assume he could hear me coming to my conclusions.

Edward was nervous.

All night, he’d been nervous.

The good kind of nervous.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll bite. Tell me.”

Laying against him, I could feel excitement coursing through him.

“Hm?”

“There’s a speech you’re not telling me,” I said. Edward broke into a smile but looked down so I wouldn’t see it. The anticipation he carried with him felt like live wires on my skin. “You’re dying to say it. Mhm. Something overwrought. Or some super nerdy, esoteric lecture, I bet. Yeah. The blues speech. The classical music. There’s a theme going on here.” He laughed. “Tell me. Who’s this dead guy and why do I care?” [this Eleanor Shellstrop-ass line]

“The tongue on you.” His lips kissed my temple, tickled the shell of my ear when he spoke. “That dead guy is me, thank you very much.”

“Huh?” I whipped around to face him with an open-mouthed smile. “No way.”

“Yes, way. Wrote and performed.”

“This? Really? You wrote this? Really?” As I talked, I moved to straddle him, my hands on his shoulders, the side of his neck. Brassy golds and jewel-toned purples swirled through the music drifting between us. “That’s so cool!”

This, like everything else about Edward, seemed otherworldly in its grace and beauty. It felt like listening to the future of music—refined to an even higher degree of perfection.

Of course this was his.

“Is it so hard to believe?”

Now my hands played nervously with the locks of his hair that sat at the nape of his neck. “No, it’s just, you said you hadn't written anything since the 70s, and the colors are just—I mean it’s perfect, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, but, just—wow." [Edward likely doesn't know she has synesthesia, considering how much of herself she's hidden from him pre-breakup.]

"Eloquent as always."

"This is amazing work. Wow!” It felt like I radiated so much joy, my cheeks burned. “Congratulations, oh my god. It’s great. It’s brilliant. I take back all the ‘dead guy, don’t care’ stuff. Lecture me up.”

“You assume I have more to say?”

I snickered, raking my hand through his hair and pulling on it. He purred. “Six words? You? Please,” I said, and he laughed. “What d’you got for me? Historical context? Music theory? Behind-the-scenes anecdote? You gotta unedit, y’know.” [it's crazy to go back to these earlier scenes and hear this Bella talk. there's such a stark difference imo between pre- & post-breakup Bella. in By Starlight, she's sounds more mature, somber, careful with her words, closer to canon. i can def see why readers abandon these works lmao]

Getting Edward to share any of his compositions had been, up until now, impossible. He had informed me several times he hadn’t written anything since the 1970s. Any time I’d ask, he’d just come up with some medley of songs by others, or he’d improvise.

“It’s a lullaby.” Beat. “Your lullaby.” Another beat. “I wrote it for you.”

I blinked. Stilled.

“For me?” My hand fell back to his chest, leaving his hair a wild, sculpted mess. Edward watched my face fall and eyes drift toward the speaker; his brows knit. “A lullaby? For me?”

Edward laughed, nervous, and pressed a button on the stereo.

"Happy birthday," he murmured to me.

Instruments jumped into that first note, springing to life with a harmonized breathlessness that reminded me of sky blue, lavender, spots of gold, and brown. An overwhelming, bright, vibrant first measure calmed into a languid, inquisitive piano.

Oftentimes, a song would have competing colors, for better or for worse. Anything I wanted to paint would require several relistenings and a full-on moodboard before the oil would ever hit the canvas.

Art supplies were expensive—you had to be sure of your vision.

But this. This was gorgeous. Like it had been written with the intention of being ready for the canvas.

For me.

“It’s been in my mind for a while now. At first, they were just bits of melodies you’ve given me from our time together. The happy, sunny times.”

“Like a tapestry of little memories?” I joked, voice thick with emotion.

“In the middle of the night, if you start tossing, I hum it to you. I think you like it. It calms you down.” He grinned. “You stop trying to kick me, anyway.”

“Which memories did you use?”

“G-minor, when you first spoke to me—that was the first measure. The first night I stayed over. Picking wild blackberries for you on the way to the meadow. [i've always thought this Edward had some crow-ass behavior going on. like he'll just show up at Bella's window with a handful of berries or a shiny pebble or a tiny flower and be like, "i come bearing gifts (caw)"] And— Do you remember the second time we took the truck to that forest a couple miles north of Goat Rocks?” I frowned. “In July? We played Nickel Nock in the truckbed? You were asking about the—"

“Fireflies,” we finished in unison. I laughed. “Duh!” I told him it’d been the first time I’d seen one in person. Edward turned off the lamp and caught one for me in his hands just so I could see it up close. I smiled wide. “The little chimes in background [WINDCHIMES BAYBEEE]. Is that them? The fireflies?”

“Perceptive.”

Tears threatened to spill over; I wiped one away from the corner with my thumb.

send me 500 words of my fanfic & i will give you the equivalent of a DVD commentary on that snippet

[putschki1969]

New Album『Sono Saki e』 Comments by Everyone Involved

This album may have been the longest production period in my career. It took more than a year to complete this album full of messages that Wakana wanted to convey. I have been working with Wakana since her solo debut, creating works together, producing her live performances, etc. The first concept we came up with for this project was an image of a ray of hope shining brightly through this sad and suffocating world, with Wakana's voice representing a soothing light raining down from heaven. I asked all the composers, lyricists, arrangers, and musicians that I truly trust to help us express such a scenery through their music and words. Wakana herself spent a lot of time working on her lyrics, practicing her singing, and recording. It was her who suggested the title "Sono Saki e (Beyond this Point)". She was very determined about everything she wanted to express with this album. It’s about the strength to open up and stay true to yourself without being afraid to move forward and not allowing yourself to be held back by current events. I am proud to say that all the songs are sparkling and shining just like Wakana herself. I am full of gratitude to all the creators who have contributed to the production of this album. I hope that everyone who listens to these songs will continue to move forward together with Wakana! With this album all we wish is for everyone’s future to be bright, kind, and full of love.

Producer Satoshi Takebe

----------

This was the first time I wrote lyrics for Wakana-san. When I heard Muramatsu-san's beautiful yet sad melody, there was only one thing that came to mind. All the tragic events that have taken place in Ukraine right after the invasion, women and children leaving the country, having to say goodbye to their husbands, fathers, sons and brothers who remained in order to fight. Countless fateful choices had to me made, families and lovers were torn apart. Yet the war still continues in this opaque world. I wanted to provide a bit of hope for such dreary times, show a way how we can continue living despite not knowing what lies ahead of us. Wakana-san sings the lyrics perfectly, accentuating each tiny fragment of sadness and hope.

Yūho Iwasato ("Kibou" - Lyrics)

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I would like to congratulate Wakana-san on her album release! I am very happy to be in charge of composing and arranging the lead song "Butterfly Dream". It was my first time working with Wakana-san, in preparation for our first session together I listened to her past works and tried to get a feeling for her voice, gradually my image of Wakana-san was expanded and I was able to create a new worldview for her. I wrote the song so that Wakana-san's delicate and powerful voice would stand out amidst mysterious chords, I wanted her vocals to feel as if they were floating on top of the melody. As for the arrangement, I played around quite a bit with various tricks such as chord progressions, different melodies, and rhythms, so I'd be happy if you could listen to the song and discover various things!

Yuki Kishida ("Butterfly Dream" Composition & Arrangement)

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"I would like you to write a song for Wakana that showcases her beautiful voice and talent. She is an incredibly capable singer so she can 100% do a song with a high degree of difficulty.” When Takebe-san made such an offer to me, I got very excited and ended up writing a very difficult song. I honestly struggle to play it myself. But somehow this is what it took to create and express such a "beautiful harshness". Just as Takebe-san said, Wakana turned out to be a singer with great talent!

Shin'ya Kiyozuka ("KEMONO" - Composition & Piano)

----------

Hello, I am Kujiraba. I am an artist and usually draw manga but this time I was asked to write lyrics for a song. When I listened to the demo tape, I felt a strong sense of frustration and the urge to run away. Immediately I was reminded of the confusion and pain that is prevalent in today's society. If you're in a place you don't want to be in, don't give up, continue resisting even if you don't have the strength to get out. Sharpen your fangs and claws and prepare to escape. KEMONO is a prayer song for escape, hoping that you can go to places you have never been able to go or places you have given up on. It’s for everyone who feels alone, anytime, anywhere. If you are in a difficult place right now, I would be happy if this song could provide some comfort for you.

Kujiraba ("KEMONO" - Lyrics)

----------

Before I started working on this song, I wanted to get a lot of input from Wakana, I wanted to hear what she had to say, listen to her story. After spending a lot of time together, learning more about her and sharing our tears, I wanted to write a song that perfectly encapsulated all the precious feelings that Wakana-san carries in her heart for her late father. I wanted to make sure that every word she told me would be sown into the very fabric of this song. Her path as a singer, the way her father had always encouraged her, how her existence in the here and now is her father’s legacy. Wakana's clear singing voice has a radiance that seems to reach the sky. I am so grateful that I got the opportunity to work with her.

Yoshiko Hanzaki ("Shirushi" - Lyrics & Composition)

----------

A broken heart Carrying the smallest suitcase Heading to Haneda Buying a random ticket on the way there Wanting to go to the farthest place. Anywhere. Just far away from here

When you are in your 30s, the times are over when you scribble the name of your crush over and over again, you are no longer naively infatuated with the feeling of being in love. You have reached an age where you should be able to recognise each other's strengths and weaknesses. I was thinking about the relationships between men and women. How you should go on a trip all by yourself in order to be able to accept all the things that you previously weren’t able to accept about your partner. This way you can become stronger. This song is a poem about how I felt when I traveled to Easter Island once upon a time. I imaged Wakana-san singing the song standing on the cliff. I want them to shoot a beautiful music video with a drone *laughs*.

Yo Hitoto ("Rapa Nui" - Lyrics)

----------

When I started composing Rapa Nui, I had an initial meeting with Takebe-san over the phone. The main goal was to create something that wasn’t J-pop. I gathered a lot of ideas, I wanted to give the song an Irish touch, maybe make it a little folky. Listening to Wakana-san's older songs, I got the strong impression that her voice was very clear, resounding like a fresh breeze through the air. That's why I thought it would be nice to have an ambient melody with a bit of an ethnic essence. In the end, it turned into something that can’t really be labelled properly but Hitoto-san’s lyrics made it possible to envision sceneries of a foreign place. I usually write quite hectic chord progressions but this time I stuck to one chord for the verse and then changed the chorus to a minor key. The part at the beginning of the chorus is very difficult, but as expected, Wakana-san sang it perfectly. I would be happy if you could feel the quiet rock amidst the gentle atmosphere.

Tatsuro Mashiko ("Rapa Nui" - Composer)

 ----------

When writing music, the most important thing for me is the voice of the artist. Wakana-san's voice is ethereal and full of emotion, there’s a complexity to it that makes you see both light and darkness at the same time. And the lyrics she wrote mysteriously matched the world view I had imagined, it really became a unique song. I hope that Wakana-san's voice will gently light up the hearts of many people in this age of uncertainty.

Toshiaki Matsumoto (”Sono Saki e” - Composer)

----------

During the production days of "Sono Saki e" I always had everyone’s feelings in mind. I wanted to fully understand the world and thoughts envisioned by my producer Satoshi Takebe-san, all the composers, writers and musicians. That’s why I did my best to carefully challenge each song. While feeling the music soaking into my body, I experienced the joy of unraveling the feelings contained in each and every one of them, adding my voice to them many times during the production process. However, there were also many times when I felt frustration and resentment towards myself, occasionally it was painful and tough, but to be honest, those moments were necessary. What do I feel in this world right now, what do I want to cherish, and what do I want to convey to everyone? I put all these thoughts into my album. When you feel overwhelmed by sadness and loneliness, I hope that there will be a moment when my music can provide solace for your heart, even just a little.

Wakana

[poetzproblem]

Sorry poetz, but I have to go back to the sex location list because I'm going to need you to expound on something: "Also the baby grand piano that goes into their house in Riverdale." Did Rachel trick Quinn into getting it by saying it was for her singing practice, when in reality she's always had a piano sex fantasy? Or did Quinn gift it to Rachel for her music when in reality Quinn had a piano sex fantasy? Love all you do poetz!

Can it be…

Both?

Both is good.

One of the perks of buying a house is the many extra rooms, of course, affording Quinn the opportunity to have a full-sized office with space for multiple bookshelves for the first time and Rachel with the opportunity for an actual music room.  Up until this point, her songwriting has been done with a serviceable electronic keyboard that can be easily stored in a closet, audio software on her laptop, and Quinn’s borrowed office whenever she needed a little privacy. Now she gets to have a whole, entire room - and one little electronic keyboard will just not cut it. She obviously needs a real piano for both function and aesthetics. 

So...

“Imagine how elegant a grand piano will look here,” Rachel muses, doing a little spin in the center of the empty room she’s claimed for herself.  

The house is officially theirs as of eleven forty-eight this morning when they’d signed the last paper at the closing. Now they only need to fill it with all of their possessions and all the new possessions that they’ve always wanted but could never cram into their tiny Manhattan apartments. 

Quinn raises a singular eyebrow at her wife’s antics. “Rach, sweetie, I know this room looks big now, but there’s no way we’re fitting a grand piano in here along with your awards case and the keyboard and that pink guitar your dads still have packed away in their closet for you.”

The grin disappears from Rachel’s face. “A baby grand then,” she amends on the fly. “There are a few high quality ones out there.” And with what they’d just spent on this house and what they’ll still be spending for a car that they now need, it's probably best not to sink the full cost of a second summer house into one piano. 

“There are high quality uprights too,” Quinn points out with a critical gaze roaming around the room in obvious contemplation of its dimensions.  

Pursing her lips in determination, Rachel steps closer to Quinn with a sway of her hips and slips her arms around her waist. “Quinn, baby,” she purrs, batting her eyelashes. “An upright isn’t nearly…sturdy enough for our needs.”

Hazel eyes meet hers in mild bemusement. ”Why would…?” she begins but abruptly bites off her own question, eyes suddenly sparkling with understanding. 

A slow, wolfish grin slants across her mouth, and Rachel knows that her wife is remembering a very particular fantasy that she’d once related to Rachel - one that Rachel had really had no way to safely fulfill in a way that wouldn't potentially get them arrested for public indecency. “Yes, sturdy would be better…for reasons.” 

Rachel hums in agreement, hands drifting lower to the curve of Quinn’s ass. “I knew you’d see it my way.” 

“You know, Teresa did tell us there was no hurry to pick up the girls today,” Quinn reminds her in that raspy, suggestive tone that never fails to resonate right down Rachel’s spine.  “We should take this time to review all of your many needs for this room.” Soft, skilled fingertips sneak a little farther underneath Rachel’s blouse with every word. 

Rachel closes her eyes on a sigh, leaning into her wife’s warm body. “If we were ten years younger, I’d let you have me on this hardwood floor right here and now.” 

Quinn chuckles huskily, her lips already sliding down to Rachel’s pulse point. “Oh sweetheart, don’t you know by now how creative I can be?” 

Heat sizzles through Rachel’s body when that talented mouth connects to her skin with intent, and she tips her head back, giving in just enough - just for a moment - to indulge in the impossible fantasy. Quinn takes the invitation without any hesitation, and before Rachel even realizes what’s happening, her back is hitting the nearest wall and her very professional black skirt is unzipped.  

“Quinn,” she gasps out in surprise, eyes flying open. 

“We should test out how sturdy this wall is, don’t you think?” Quinn asks, far from innocently. One palm is flat against that wall while the fingertips of her other are already dancing under the loose waistband of Rachel’s skirt. “It’s where your awards case is going after all.” 

And it is, of course. Quinn knows her too well. It’s the best place for the light of the window to reflect off her many statuettes in a way that will make them positively sparkle. 

Rachel’s eyes dart to that same open window, and then to the still open door of the otherwise empty room, and then she remembers that this is their house and they’re the only ones with the keys to the front door (that they did remember to lock behind them) and their precious, precocious daughters are safe in Manhattan, and Quinn is already doing very pleasant things to her body that she really doesn’t have any desire to put a stop to. 

“You’d better not throw out your back,” she warns, but her body is already giving in - hands pulling Quinn closer and thighs parting enough to give her more room to work. 

Quinn laughs, teasing, “So sexy in your old age, Mrs. Fabray.”  

Rachel’s fingers twist into blonde locks. “I’m merely protecting a long term investment, Quinn.” Her lips curve into an impish grin. “I still need you to help me shop for that piano.”  Quinn’s fingers sink deeper in blissful retaliation, and Rachel moans breathlessly. “Among other things.” 

“I’ll show you other things.” 

And she does. 

[anatheyma]

Indeed, is not a easy instrument to learn. When I left home and I got my first job I saved enough money to buy a violin and learnt to play it from scratch, without any help. I learnt to play the cello briefly after that, when I was around seventeen. I've tried to learn piano but as same with languages, I am often too busy at work to do it properly.

I am a big fan of describing people I enjoy being with. I could talk about how I perceive you for hours without any problem and even in deeper detail than how I did before. Cute puppy boy.

You do have pretty eyes and curls, though, so they're right about that. I practically raised most of my youngers neighbors and one of my first jobs was being a babysitter, so little kids love me in a really curious way. And because, well, I can carry them around on my back or let them sit on my shoulders and they enjoy it just because I'm tall, hah. Also, maybe I give dad vibes? Not sure.

Do you ever miss your family? I'm deeply sorry if it's a personal question, you don't have to answer it if you don't feel like it. I think of my mom sometimes when I do stuff that she used to do.

–🦴

impressive! once again. too bad you're too busy to learn piano, it sucks when responsibilities get in the way of our interests!

i think it's interesting to hear what other people have to say about me, so i don't mind at all. it's very flattering. i'm a good listener and i love it when people talk to me about anything in deeper detail tbh! especially things they're passionate about. i tend to remember small details about other people. as long as there's nothing on my mind to distract me so i'm able to fully focus.

and thank you! i'm not sure i've shown too much of myself on here... but still, thanks! that's also very cute! love some good dad vibes. and the kids love it too apparently!

i do miss my family often. but i know it's better this way! i especially miss my dog and my dad. my dad's like my best friend. i also miss my little brother. he's an adult now too and lives on his own, we kind of grew apart. used to be really close. oh well. my mom on the other hand... let's just say it's complicated. she was my abuser and we were regular clients of the child protective services who ended up not doing Shit about the situation, mostly because my mom's a great manipulator. but i got out of that house and that's all that matters! better late than never.