#her pop music makes me cringe but when she's just sitting at a piano telling a story it's amazing

[jellogram]

Oh god I just realized we are less than one month away from a new Taylor Swift album. I don't know whether to laugh or cry.

[tangledstarlight]

with you i’d dance in a storm in my best dress

this is a super month delayed prompt from @ourstarscollided (”holding hands while running through the rain” for our favourite soulmates, Julie and Luke!”) i will accept the super late fees, this is way over the 3-5 businesses days I promised ghfj anyway! mhwa enjoy 💜

julie and luke go on a first date, it really is as simple as that.

(also on ao3, here)

The day that Luke had asked her out, Julie spilt half her coffee on his shoes and the other half on her maths homework. In her head the conversation had gone a little like this:

“Hey Julie do you uh, wanna go see the new How to Train Your Dragon with me tomorrow?”

“Oh, yeah, that sounds cool. Reggie loves those films.”

“Oh I uh, mean just–– just me. You and me. Us. Just. The two of us.”

“Like –– a date?”

“Yeah?”

And then she’d knocked her cup over. Coffee spreading across the library table and onto Luke’s shoes and seeping into the carpet. Their school librarian had come storming over at Julie’s loud exclamation and ushered them both out of the building with a glare.

In reality there had been a lot of awkward pausing and wide eyed staring and Luke rubbing at the back of his neck as he waited for her to answer and then mumbled apologies and burning cheeks.

So, it was worse. For her at least.

But she prefers the version in her head with the lack of stuttering and blushing, so that’s what she tells Flynn an hour later as she lies on her bed, phone pressed to her ear as she stares at her fairy lights.

“So? What did you say?” Flynn’s voice filters through the phone and Julie can practically hear the giddy edge to it.

“I uh—” she pauses, chewing on her bottom lip as her mind flashes back to them standing in the parking lot of the school, Julie trying to shove coffee stained sheets of paper into her bag and Luke cringing at the squelching sound his shoes made with every step.

He had opened his mouth to say something — Julie doesn’t know what, because her heart and brain had finally caught up by then and where on the same page as she blurted out a, “Yes! To the uh, the movie. And the— the date. If—if that’s still—”

“No! I mean, yes, I mean yeah I—” he stuttered, sucking in a breath before smiling at her, shy and sweet. “Yes I still want to. Have to do worse than spill coffee on my shoes to scare me off, Molina.” And he’d bitten his bottom lip slightly as he’d laughed, and Julie had blushed a little more at the earnest tone in his voice.

“I said yes,” she whispers into the phone, because a part of her is still sitting in the library thinking she’s completely misheard him and doesn’t want to pop this little bubble quite yet.

“Jules!” Flynn squeals and Julie has to pull her phone away from her ear a little to avoid permanent damage, “You’re going on a date with Luke! This is big. This is huge. Okay, what time are you meeting him? We have to find you the perfect outfit and I need a time scale here.”

She lets the bubble pop, lets Flynn’s excitement stoke her own until she’s off her bed and rooting through her wardrobe and making plans for what time Flynn should come over tomorrow to help her get ready. By the time they say goodbye and hang up, Julie is smiling and barely containing her excitement.

Because see, she’s kind of had a huge massive crush on Luke since they were kids. It had come and gone over the years — seeing him shove two whole slices of pizza in his mouth at the age of eleven had done a lot to kill the crush for a while. But then it was freshman year and he’d run into music class late with the biggest smile on his face as he declared he’d finally perfected part of his guitar solo for their assignment. Don’t ask Julie why that had been the moment the crush came back in full force, because she doesn’t know.

They’d always sort of been friends, the way you’re sort of friends with everyone you’ve known since kindergarten, where you’ve been to all their birthday parties and know all the cheesy roles they’ve played in school plays. Julie doesn’t know when they went from being casual friends who said hi in the hallway to being friends and talking everyday.

(That’s not strictly true, Julie knows it happened sometime between her mom dying and music sounding like roaring in her ears and almost being kicked from the music program and the boys joining her on stage without hesitation to help her keep her place. If she really had to pinpoint it, it would be the day he found her crying at a piano in an unused music room and had closed the blinds, locked the door and just sat with her.)

She knows that there’s been— moments over the last few months. Moments where she catches him looking at her, moments where she swears he blushes when she looks at him, moments where their hugs have lasted just a few seconds too long. But Julie hadn’t ever really thought they meant anything. At least not to him. (To her they meant a lot.)

Because he was Luke, with his charming smile and sleeveless shirts and rockstar image, and she was just Julie and they were just friends and why would he ever look at her as anything else?

All she knows is that now they were juniors and in a band and best friends and he’d asked her out on a date.

Julie collapses onto her bed, head hitting her pillows and hair flying into her face as the thought hits her fully, “Holy shit,” she whispers, clutching a pillow to her chest and finally, finally lets a giddy smile take over her face.

She’s going on a date with Luke Patterson and it’s utterly terrifying. He’s one of her best friends, what happens if it goes terribly? Do they have to stop being friends? Do they enter an awkward few months where they don’t know how to act around each other? Oh god maybe this was a terrible idea. Maybe she should text him and fake an illness. Maybe chicken pox, the chances of him remembering her having them when she was nine have got to be pretty low.

But, he’d asked her out with that silly little nervous habit of rubbing at the back of his neck and there’s been all the little moments over the last fews months and — it’s Luke. Julie blows out a breath and raises her pillow a little higher to tuck under her chin.

She’s going to go on a date with Luke and it’s terrifying, but it’s the kind of terrifying she feels whenever she gets up on a stage by herself to perform a new song. It’s the kind of terrifying that fills her with excitement too. She decides to focus on the excitement. 

//

Julie manages to push aside all her worries and fears and nerves all day and most of the afternoon when Flynn shows up, lunch in one hand and make up bag in the other. She even manages to forget about it when she’s holding her hair up and letting it drop back down her back, eyebrows raised at Flynn as they try to decide what to do with it. She manages to forget all about her fears as they deliberate between a dress or jeans and argue over what’s considered more casual.

And then Flynn leaves with an air kiss and a thumbs up and Julie is left at the top of the stairs tucking her hair behind her ears and pulling it back as she tilts her head at herself in the mirror. Objectively Julie knows she’s okay looking, knows that her family has always told her she’s beautiful and that Flynn hadn’t even hesitated to say she looked gorgeous before leaving.

But well, they had to say stuff like that. They were her family. Luke was...Julie didn’t know what Luke was right now, but she knew he was important — now and forever — and maybe it made her shallow but she wanted him to think she looked pretty.

Her nerves don't set back in until there’s a knock at her door and Carlos is running for it before she can stop him.

“Luke,” is all she can hear from the top of the stairs, and though Carlos is blocking most of her view she can just make out the cuffs of jeans and a pair of vans. She wonders if they’re still squeaking when he walks.

“Hey Carlos can I—” the sound of Luke’s voice sends a flurry of butterflies into her stomach and she sucks in a breath to try and settle her nerves. Why is she even nervous? It’s Luke! They’ve hung out hundreds of times before, they’re friends, they’re going on a date. Oh god. Okay.

Julie brushes her hands down the skirt of her dress and blows out a breath as she looks at herself in the mirror one last time. They’re just going for food and to see a movie. Something they’ve done hundreds of times before. It’s casual. It’s why she’d opted to wear her favourite sneakers instead of the heels Flynn has dug out of her closet. It’s a date, but it’s a casual date. As long as she keeps telling herself that she’ll be fine.

“Get it together,” she whispers to herself, tucking a curl behind her ear and nodding once. She can do this.

It’s just Luke.

She stops halfway down the stairs at the sight of her dad and brother talking to Luke in the doorway. Luke, who’s wearing a dark blue button down and jeans without rips and–– oh god he’s bought her flowers. Either she makes a noise or he’d been glancing up at the stairs because he’s looking at her, eyes a little wide with a soft smile that makes heat rush to her cheeks. Ducking her head, Julie descends the last few steps until she’s stood in front of him, her dad and brother stepping back to watch them. Fuck.

“You look—”

“—are those—”

They both start at the same time and Julie giggles while Luke rubs at the back of his neck with his free hand.

“You look really nice and um—” he hesitates, eyes briefly glancing over her shoulder where she can only assume her family are watching this awkwardness unfold. “These are for you.”

He holds the flowers out towards her, a collection of pale purples and bright yellows, and if she had time right now she’d try to name each of them. But she can feel her dad and brother still watching them and there’s a red flush starting to show up on Luke’s cheekbones.

They really need to get out of her house before one of them turns totally red.

“Thank you they’re… they’re really pretty,” she turns around, handing the flowers to her dad and quickly turning back, picking her purse and phone up from the table by the door, “Can you put them in water for me please? Okay, bye!”

They make it through the door and almost to the porch steps before her dad is at the door calling out to them, “No later than 10:30!”

“I know dad!”

An awkward silence falls over them as they walk to his car and Julie tries desperately to come up with something to say, finally blurting out, “You’re wearing sleeves.”

Her hands wave at his shoulders and biceps covered in fabric. Julie’s not sure when the last time was that she’d seen his arms so covered. Maybe the winter showcase last year when Reggie had said they needed to dress up and forced him into a suit jacket. But that hadn’t been voluntary.

“My mom said I couldn’t go on a date with my shoulders showing. Apparently it would be rude?” He phrases it like a question, an eyebrow raised as he looks at her, as if she’d have an opinion on his bare shoulders being rude or not. She didn’t know date etiquette. Was it rude?

“I wouldn’t have been personally offended by them,” she shrugs, shooting him a small smile and feeling grateful when he laughs.

This is fine, they’re going to be fine. They just have to get over this awkward start and weirdly charged silences. Maybe it was a good job they were seeing a movie first, no chance for awkward conversation as they tried to find their footing. Julie blows out a breath and smiles up at him.

“So, how annoyed is Reggie that we’re seeing this without him?”

And it's like every other time they've hung out, only her fingers keep brushing against his and he keeps looking at her shyly from the corner of his eye while he drives. Its the same but it's different but Julie thinks it's maybe a good kind of different.

//

By the time they leave the movie theatre, hands brushing as they walk side by side, Julie’s feeling a little more settled in their date. Or a little more settled in herself at least.

Settled in the shy glances and shared popcorn and the way Luke had left his hand palm up on the arm rest between them and she’d felt brave enough during the second half of the film to lay hers on top.

She was feeling that much more confident about their date that, as they walked towards the entrance talking about the film, she was seconds away from closing the gap between their brushing hands and linking their fingers together. Which is of course when they both notice it’s raining.

In LA. Which, well Julie doesn’t know if she believes in signs or omens, but she’s pretty sure this classes as one. And she's not sure if it's a good or bad one.

“Fuck,” Luke mutters as he looks outside at the falling rain before looking down at her, a small furrow between his brows. The two of them both clearly remembering how he’d parked six blocks away because it was cheaper. And how neither of them have a coat or a jacket or even a bag worth holding over her hair.

“Guess we’re going to have to run,” she shrugs, shooting him a quick smile before making sure her phone is stashed safely in her purse.

“Or we could wait it out?”

“What? Scared of a little rain?” she teases, eyebrow quirked as she looks up at him.

“No,” he huffs out a laugh, one hand coming up to tug playfully at one of her curls letting it stretch out before springing back, his hand left hovering next to her shoulder, “But your hair?”

Her eyes soften a little as she shrugs one shoulder — and maybe it’s the one under his hand, and maybe she only does it so his palm and fingers will brush against the exposed skin of where her neck meets shoulder and maybe she stands a little awkwardly to prolong that concat. It’s all maybes. There’s no proof that’s why she does it — and smiles, “I was going to wash it tomorrow anyway. Come on Patterson, I bet if we run fast enough we can dodge the raindrops.”

“Not to sound like Alex but I don’t think that’s possible,” he bites his bottom lip slightly as he laughs and if she was feeling a little braver right now, Julie thinks she might have kissed him. But she’s not feeling brave enough for that. “You sure you don’t want to wait it out?”

“You ready to run?” She asks instead, turning towards the doors and holding her hand out to him. Maybe she’s not brave enough to kiss him, but holding his hand as they run through the rain? That feels doable.

She wiggles her fingers up at him a dare, a challenge, a question, all wrapped up together as she waits to see if he’ll take her hand. And she only has to wait a heartbeat before his palm is slapping down on hers, fingers slotting between each other and he’s tugging her towards the door.

“Oh I’m ready to run. I’m not sure you’re ready to keep up.”

He doesn’t give her a chance to respond before he’s pulling open the door and Julie is squealing as the first drops of rain hit her head and splash against her bare shins.

“Thought you knew how to dodge raindrops,” Luke teases as he pulls her along and Julie squeezes his hand before tugging him towards a puddle in the pavement to kick water up at him.

The indigent squeak of protest that leaves his lips makes her laugh in response, that only grows at the pout on his lips as he pulls at their joint hands until she has to stumble away from the puddle and into his side. And Luke lifts his arm until she gets the idea of ducking under it until her back is against his front and his arms wrap around her waist, picking her up off the ground and laughing into her hair at the startled squeak she makes, fingers cold even through her dress as he carries her away from the puddle with a huff of breath in her ear. “Oh I’m going to get you back for that.”

She doesn’t doubt him, and is kind of giddy in her excitement about what he might do. There’s something about the rain falling around them and the way it makes the empty streets and parking lots look that makes her forget she was ever worried in the first place.

Because she’s Julie and he’s Luke and she forgets sometimes, that things that are supposed to be scary are easy with him. The first time she sang after her mom, the first time she drove without her dad, the first time she snuck out her bedroom window. She feels like she can do anything as long as he’s by her side. She feels pretty fearless.

The second her feet hit the ground again she turns around his arms, trailing her own cold fingers up his wrists and forearms to circle around his biceps, tucking her fingers under the hems of his shirts sleeves and chooses to decide the shiver that runs through him is due to the rain that’s starting to slow around them and not the way she’s starting tracing idle patterns into his warm skin.

“How are you going to get me back?” She whispers, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as she looks up at him. At the way the rain has plastered his hair across his forehead, at how his eyes dart from her lips to her eyes and back again.

“I’m sure I’ll think of something,” he says softly and she feels his fingers flex against her back and Julie definitely can’t blame the shiver that runs through her on the rain or the cold air because while they’ve been staring at each other it’s stopped raining and now they’re just standing in a parking lot in each other arms.

If it wasn’t quickly becoming her favourite place she might feel a little more embarrassed.

“Jules,” he whispers and she’s momentarily distracted by the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips that she almost misses his next words, “I uh I had a plan. We were going to have a picnic in that park you like? But I— well. I didn’t plan for the rain.”

She blinks at him, pulling her thoughts away from his lips and how they’d feel against hers and back to the moment and— a laugh bubbles past her lips, leaning her forehead against his shoulder as she lets his words fully register. She can feel a chuckle rumble through him where she’s pressed against his chest and his fingers dig slightly into her sides.

“In my defence, it’s LA. No one ever plans for rain,” he mutters into her hair and that makes her laugh again.

Pulling back just enough to look at his face she shakes her head at him, ignoring the way droplets of water fall down her back from her hair as teases him, “Wow and here was me thinking you’d prepared for everything.”

“If you don’t hold it against me I promise to prepare for rain for our next date,” Luke says it casually, but his fingers have started tapping lightly on her back and his eyes are wide and hopeful, looking so much like he had the day before that Julie can’t stop the smile that pulls at her lips.

“If you don’t show up with umbrellas and raincoats I’ll never trust you again,” even as she says the words she knows they’re a lie. Julie’s pretty sure there’s no one she trusts more. Fingers tapping against his biceps she offers, “We can eat in your car?”

“Mhm sounds like a plan,” he agrees but makes no move to let her go and she doesn’t do anything to move away either. He looks like he’s working himself up to something and it's then that Julie realises that he’s just as nervous about this as she is and that if she has to wait for Luke to make the first move they might be standing here for a long time.

So she lets that feeling of fearlessness from earlier flood back in, lets her fingers slide out from under his sleeves and wrap around his neck, pulling herself up onto her tiptoes until they’re almost eye to eye. Their height differences has never been so obvious to her as it is right now and she can’t decide if she likes it or wishes she’d worn the heels.

“Luke?” she whispers.

“Yeah?” his breath blows across her lips and she’s so close she can almost hear the way he swallows.

“Are you going to kiss me now?”

Julie doesn’t realise she’s been holding her breath until it wooshes out of her when he pulls her even closer with one arm around her waist and the other traveling to cup the back of her head as his lips finally touch hers. It’s messy and rushed and wet with rain, but Luke’s lips are soft and careful until she pulls herself up just a little higher and can deepen it. Teeth catching and lips pulling into smiles and soft groans as she scratches lightly at his scalp. 

She’s kissed boys before, pecks on the lips and a disastrous seven minutes in a closet with Nick last year and an awkward first date with one of the boys from her maths class who had transferred the next year. None of them had been perfect or great or even good and she’d wondered if it was her. If she was the bad kisser.

But standing in an almost empty parking lot with the street lights reflecting off the wet tarmac with Luke’s arms around her, holding her, his lips chasing after hers as she pulls away to breathe? It’s imperfect and perfect and everything she never knew she’d been missing.

“That was—”

“—god you’re beautiful, did I tell you that earlier?”

Luke’s words cut her off as he presses his lips to the corner of her mouth, to just under her ear, to her jaw.

“I—” but she doesn’t know how to finish her sentence, a furrow between her brows as she leans back a little in his arms so she can see his face, shaking her head with a small laugh, “I’m soaked through with rain and my hair is a total mess. I don’t think beautiful is the right word here.”

“Bullshit,” he states, the hand that had been holding the back of her head, fingers tangled in wet curls, comes around to cup her cheek, calloused thumb brushing across her cheekbone once, twice, as his eyes roam around her face before focusing sorely on her eyes. “You’re the most beautiful person in any room or parking lot or space on earth. In the whole universe. Rain soaked hair doesn’t change that.”

“Oh,” is all she can get out as a blush rushes into her cheeks and she knows that Luke notices because his thumb strokes against it again and his lips pull up into a half smile that she knows means he’s about to say something incredibly dumb that will ruin the incredibly sweet moment. So she leans forward and presses her lips against his before he gets the chance.

//

They drape the blanket Luke had bought for the picnic across the back seat of his car and try their best to get dry without losing any clothing or soaking the seats. He pulls out a basket from the trunk filled with her favourite soda and slightly squashing sandwiches and cookies she knows his mom must have helped him bake and unevenly sliced carrot sticks that scream of Reggie throwing them in at the last minute. Luke passes her the aux cord and she skips through a playlist until she finds something she likes and they let his terrible car radiator try to warm them up while they eat their picnic. Though really it’s his arm around her shoulders and his hand covering her knee and her fingers trailing up and down his arm that do most of the warming up.

At 10:25 he walks her up to her front door, biting at his bottom lip as he bounces on the balls of his feet and glancing from the door to her and back again.

“So I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. For band practice,” Luke says, his eyes still going from the door to her and back again and it’s starting to make her a little dizzy.

“Mhm,” she mumbles, taking a half step towards him, hoping it’ll keep his eyes in one place. Which they do. On her lips. And she doesn’t even try to stop the smile that pulls at them when she realises it. Pushing up on to her tiptoes again she kisses him once, quickly, sweetly and starts to step away. She only makes it as far as lifting one foot up before Luke is wrapping a hand around her waist to pull her back to him, lips moving together in a way that’s different from the kisses they’ve already shared. When he pulls away to breathe she presses a kiss to his cheek and finally manages to step away while he’s looking a little stunned. “Text me when you get home okay? I’ll see you tomorrow Luke.”

She opens her front door and slips inside before she can change her mind and stand on her front pouch kissing him all night. Because she could do that. Spend a whole night just kissing him. Julie presses her fingers to her lips as a giddy smile takes over her face, twitching aside the curtain that covers the window next to the door in time to see Luke getting into his car and driving away.

For their next date three days later they go to the arcade by the pier, and she doesn’t even care about the odd looks everyone around them shoots their way at the peeling laughter that erupts out of her when he pulls a bright yellow umbrella out of the trunk of his car with a wink.

[ushiwakaout]

Lead Singer! Tamaki Amajiki with tattoo artist & lead guitarist S/O || MHA

Genre: Rock Star AU || Fluff || Self-Indulgent angst ||

⚠️ Warnings: Drug Use || Nsfw || Orgy || Mommy kink? ||

Words: 2k+

A/N: very self indulgent bc i love rockstar aus i’ve never seen one of tamaki so here it is! 

Gender Neutral Reader

Dude, don’t even get me started

HE SINGS LIKE JESSE THE GUY WHO SING SWEATHER WEATHER AND DADDY ISSUES

Can you imagine his singing devils advocate, holy shit he’d look so good MA’AM PLEASE

YOU CANNOT TELL ME THAT HE WOULDN’T DRESS LIKE HARRY STYLES 

He’s still shy and still has stage fright the first few times but your his lead guitar player (dated before the band was together)

Mirio is on the drums while Nejire is the bass player

It’s so hard not to pounce on him once he gets into his music like wow 

ESPECIALLY IF HE SUNG DEVILS ADVOCATE

You guys wear a matching matte black rings and people assume you’re married, y’all never say no so you’re gonna let people assume bc you’re fine with it.

You used to be a tattoo artist so many tattoos Tamaki has or will have, it’s done by you, he won’t want 

After every set he’ll either kiss you or your hand, it just depends if you go straight into the next set or not

He sings pretty boy dedicated to you bc if it where all to end, he’d be okay if it was by your side

The fans either ship you or they don’t 

It’s a little hard thinking that people don’t think you’re a good match but Tamaki always says that you’re his angel and he’d never fall in love with anyone else bc you’re his soulmate 

Some fans ship him with mirio and they both think its funny bc they’ve been best friends since they where kids so they don’t have a problem

But Tamaki does not, DOES NOT like it when they ship him with Nejire. Not that he doesn’t like her bc she, along with mirio, got him out of his comfort zone a lot (in a good way). 

He sees the way you’re smile fades when you see a post about their ship, people saying that they look good and all. It’s gotten to a point of wanting to break up with Tamaki just to make a handfull of fans happy

You’d do anything for his music to rise up the ranks, even if it meant losing your relationship

You’ve gone to mirio sobbing about this, it kinda hurt Tamaki that you didn’t go to him but you just couldn’t face him without the reminder of those stupid post

There was one day where a post said “look at the way he looks at her, he looks at her like he’s in love with her.” You looked at the picture for a long time and didn’t even realize the water works

You didn’t really mention it to anybody but when tamaki sang pretty boy, everyone could tell that it had a different feel to it

the set was over and before tamaki could look at you, you had already gone off the stage and ran towards the back locking yourself into the bathroom and kinda just letting it all out

god you hated this feeling, the ache in your chest 

Tamaki basically broke into the bathroom and froze when he saw you crying. He was so worry and so angry at the same time.

You both ended up crying on the bathroom floor together proclaiming your love for each other in such a snotty mess that it ended in laughter.

After that incident there was a long thread tweet of Tamaki explaining politely why he doesn’t like when people ship him with someone else other than his s/o or mirio (bc you don’t mind it either) people could tell that he was angry through the tweet and it was a lil scary bc tamaki DOES NOT GET ANGRY 

anygays- angst is over, sorry very self-indulgent. 

YOU CANNOT TELL ME THIS MAN DOESN’T SMOKE DUE TO ANXIETY 

You guys have 21+ concerts bc it’s those type of concerts where u can smoke weed legally and drink

SHOT GUN SMOKE WITH TAMAKI HOT HOT HOT

Tamaki’s a lil high so he does it with mirio too and u end up doing it with nejire (your relationship def gets a lot better after the whole shipping situation bc yall talk about it and nejire ends up outing herself to you guys as a lesbian)

so if you’re a girl, Tamaki will def. tell her to watch herself when it comes to his girl but if you’re a dude- you guys are like oh... cool, good for you.

MMM  tourbus sex

YOU CANNOT TELL ME THAT AS A BAND YALL DIDN’T DO SOMETHING TOGETHER

you don’t Nejire anywhere near Tamaki tho, def a small cat fight while it happens 

TAMAKI GOT REALLY JELOUS WHEN MIRIO KISSED YOU OH MAN

Tamaki def fucked you several times while Mirio was listening bc TAMAKI WANTS HIM TOO KNOW WHO YOU BELONG TOO (cannon amajiki is a bottom and probably a pillow prince but fannon tamaki is a switch but in my head in this au TAMAKI IS A HARDCORE TOP)

Several occasions where you have to sit down during concerts bc tamaki ruined you minutes beforehand

FOR A FUCKING FACT yall do it in the dressing room and he just cums inside you and slips you’re underwear back on minutes before set AND U HAVE NO TIME TO CLEAN YOURSELF SO YOU’RE LIKE FUCK

mmm i love me some dom tamaki

Okay lets get to award shows

B E S T D R E S S E D C O U P L E A W A R D 

its something like this:  female / male

if y’all win something tamaki will NOT speak, way too many people are looking at him at the moment and he almost died during the pictures. 

“some many flashing cameras”

holds your hand tighter and y’all ask to get escorted out 

If y’all live together like only you and him, you’re house def is the definition of dark decor

if you guys every do get married, you aren’t getting a live band, everyone thought you did but it turns out it’s you guys in wedding attire- they love it.

Also very small wedding, somehow able to hide it from the pap and its like 50 people or so, mostly friends and like 1/3 family

100% LIKE PEWDIEPIES WEDDING. very very private but very nature/dark decor 

do y’all get wedding tattoos. yes. but not matching, not really.

do y’all tattoo each-other at the wedding... yes.

on your ring finger you have a sun and he has the moon.

you are the light that guides his threw the darkness  and he is your sun, always lighting up your life you know bc the sun lights up the moon

y’all just love eachother sorry

you don’t break up and y’all don’t expect to

BABIES Fem version

do you still play while pregnant yes

are people surprised, yell yeah

you gotta sit down tho bc your feet are killing you 

around the 6 to 9 month mark, the band goes on a break tamaki ends up going solo for a bit during the break and he makes you sing with him AND WOW do you get a larger fanbase bc of it. yes

angelic voice of a pregnant mother

it made tamaki horny, like how the fuck are are you so fucking great at fucking everything please let me fuck you god please

will whine, WILL CALL YOU MOMMY god yes

BABIES Male version.

Yall really wanted to adopt w one baby but the baby you liked had a twin so youre like HOW CAN U TAKE ONE AND NOT THE OTHER

they are twins but ones a boy and one is a girl

god you love them with all your heart

BABIES IN GENERAL (fem version yall have twins too, boy and girl)

they grow up to be band geeks, yall love it but your boy learns piano and the girl ends up playing the guitar (def not the outcome you guys thought it would be but you really dont care)

Let set names Mizuki for a girl, Haru for a boy. (legit beautiful moon and the sun)

Mizuki is very alternative meets fairy academia/ loves plants. probably a baby witch: has the same attitude as Tamaki

Haru is Dark Academia meets city pop / loves record, old gadgets and reading books: very much more like their other parent 

If y’all ever retire to just making music at home the kids are def. gonna take the band name and just put “The new gen” after it. You guys make fun of them for being unoriginal and they get pouty 

but they had you guys crying the first time they got a gig. they both sing, make music like billie and finneas and y’all just so proud. 

when you guys start getting older they will take you to award shows as their date to flex the fact that they are gen celebs who actually made something off of their parent success unlike some people

y’all just flex you’re kid bc they doing so well

just for shits and giggles (kids are like 22 at this point, you guys are like 46) :

Haru would probably get a girl pregnant during a one night stand and end up in a baby daddy situation

Mizuki probably steals Tamakis weeb and smokes it w lavander, you catch her and you’re like.... is it good? mother/father daughter smoke sesh

Haru is like “where’s mom, i need her to run by some notes- are you guys smoking? I’m telling dad.”

“It’s not like you’re dad doesn’t smoke either.” 

Haru and Mizuki are like “WHAT?! SINCE WHEN?!” 

“Since always... how’d you think he got over his stage fright? It’s not like i could go down on you’re dad every time before a concert to lift his nerves.”

Fake gagging from the two kids. 

You guys a def the parents who kinda don’t care about your image but you don’t let your kids go off easy

They are good kids who kept good grades and never got caught while doing trouble- so they are well respected and have liberty to do what they like.

There ends up being an article about your family and the cover is you guys- all of you with your nails painted and eyemakeup

very very controversial interview with strict and non liberals calling you guys bad parents and such

and you guys also talked about the topic about how you cared for your children. explaining that you guys stopped smoking, stopped drinking, kept a healty diet until they where 15. once they became 18 it was a very open enviroment, letting your kids grow the way they want and not suffocating them. not shoving down their beliefs and likes- they grew up the way they wanted to with the care of their parents.

parents kinda hate you ngl, yall too great sksksksk

yall also play the game where they ask you questions and if you don’t answer you have to take a shot

Mizuki: “Oh ew, please don’t answer this question... Have you ever had- *clears throat* have you guys ever had sex while we where in the house

Tamaki gets all red and shoves a shot down your throat and now you don’t get to answer “But I wanted to answer!” Haru is cringing hard and he takes a shot himself “You guys are gross”

Haru asks a question and just HATES IT “Oh god... Okay- Only because I wanna know I’m asking parent number 2 (you’re parent #2) Is the rumor of you guys doing the dirty with your band true. Did you guys have an orgy.”

You start to laugh your ass off but Mizuki and Tamaki are looking at eachother bc they cant believe they’ve done this Haru def is out of his shy bubble and now Mizuki has it

“You want a shot papa?” She asked tamaki, he just nodds and she fills it to the brim, “I think thats enough.” But before he’s able to reach for it, She shoots it down and put another one full for him

“Oh yeah, that’s true. Kinda i guess, it wasn’t really an orgy- It was more like two couples doing it in the same room while doing it but you’re uncle mirio did kiss me.”

Kids: Forever gagging

Tamaki: Forever blushing

You: Ah sweet memories :)

Request are open! You can request anyone from My Hero Academia (low key wont write for tsu or uraraka. Will not write for mineta), Haikyuu, Attack on Titan or Balance Unlimited!

[stars-in-my-universe]

Bad Idea: Part 7

Summary: When pop star Trixie can’t get her act together, her team makes a deal with the NHL…one that she can’t turn down. When NHL player Tyler Seguin can’t seem to get himself under control his team decides to thrust a certain Pop star into his life. Can the two play nice?

Warnings: Cussing.

Note: You guys have been wonderful, honestly with the whole world in lock down, it’ll give me time to write a bit more so hopefully I can get more out. Send me your thoughts, send me some prompts or drabbles I shall be here watching netflix and catching up on shows. 

It was Friday and Trixie sat on the piano bench in a cute little summer dress and brown boots, hair done up and make up done perfectly down to her lipstick and Tyler wasn’t here, not that Trixie had been relying on him to show up. He said he would, even texted her the night before asking for the time and the address. It’s not like she expected him to show up; It just would have been nice for him to keep his word.

“Alright Trix, we’re ready for you to start.” Trixie nodded and traced the keys of the piano getting ready to start. They had already done the interview portion of it and now were moving on to the performance part. She knew the routine, the interview part was just the intro to her performance and to give a preview for any future tours or albums, and honestly an easy way to dig into her private life. 

“Okay Trixie in 3...2...1.” She always got nervous performing no matter how many times she had done it and today was no different. Her leg started to bounce as she watched her team from behind the sound booth. Cami sent her a small smile encouraging her to go on; Trixie took a breath and grabbed the microphone to bring a little closer to her. 

“So, hello everyone my name's Trixie, I’m sure you all knew that. I’m just going to be here in spotify’s lovely live lounge singing some songs for you all…” Her voice trailed off as she watched the sound booth door open and Tyler walk in. The butterflies had surprised her as she watched him apologize and look around a little confused in his black button up and jeans. He of course had on a snap back on with the Dallas stars logo which made her smile. 

 He had actually made it. Tyler was directed to sit on the couch which he did as quietly possible. Trixie  took notice as to how her pr manager had whispered something to Tyler. He shook his head and looked over at Trixie, their eyes locking for a moment. She sent him a nod which he acknowledged with a small smile.

“So here’s Someone you loved by Lewis Capaldi, good man, great voice, great song.” Trixie cleared her throat and closed her eyes and started the beginning keys of the song.

“I'm going under and this time I fear there's no one to save me. This all or nothing really got a way of driving me crazy.I need somebody to heal, Somebody to know, Somebody to have, Somebody to hold ,It's easy to say .But it's never the same, I guess I kinda liked the way you numbed all the pain.” 

Tyler watched as Trixie sang the song he had never heard of, he didn’t listen to much music on the radio but he couldn’t deny that she was talented. 

“Now the day bleeds Into nightfall And you're not here To get me through it all I let my guard down And then you pulled the rug I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved…”

The last line is what hit Tyler, he could tell this wasn’t just a song to her. Trixie had been hurt, deeply and he had no idea how deep. She hadn’t opened her eyes, letting the music completely over take her. She continued to sing and play the piano effortlessly, kind of how hockey came naturally to Tyler, music came naturally to her. 

Cami glanced over at Tyler, she had seen Trixie perform more times than she could count that she sometimes forgot how much vulnerability Trixie was actually showing until she saw the look of awe on Tyler’s face. Sighing, she got up and sat next to the hockey player on the couch making him jump slightly at her presence.

“I’m surprised you came.” She spoke in a hushed whisper; Tyler glanced at Trixie’s best friend.

“I told her we’d try to work through this and she asked me to come.” Cami nodded and looked back to Trixie. She wondered if Tyler realized how much Trixie was opening up in the sound booth without actually talking about anything.

“It’s about Anderson isn’t it?” Cami nodded without looking at him, so he knew about the ex.

“It’s always about him, Tyler. He did a number on her, I watched her have to walk down a red carpet nursing a broken heart, I watched her win an award for best female artist the day he ended it with her. The morning of that award show he had called her and broke it off.” Tyler nodded, what a dick.

“Yeah but wasn’t it mostly a publicity stunt?” Cami shook her head.

“She fell for him, hard, Tyler. She was head over heels, wanting to settle down in love. And then he had cheated and left her. You can ask her the rest if you want but she’s still healing Tyler.” He didn’t say anything. 

“Don’t hurt her, please. She’s a good girl.” He went to ask Cami what she meant and to let her know it wasn’t like that at all, but the girl had already stood back up and continued to watch Trixie. 

“I let my guard down And then you pulled the rug, I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved…” 

Tyler watched Trixie play the final key of the song and when she opened her eyes he could see how they were rimmed red with tears; and a part of him wanted to know the whole story, what had happened. Josh Anderson always seemed like a decent person and who was Tyler to judge, he had broken his own set of hearts. Trixie seemed very hard on the surface But as he watched Trixie wipe her eyes with the back of her hand trying not to smear her makeup all he could think of was how fragile was she really?

X-x

She really thought she was in the clear, she really thought she could wrap this up and go get some Jamba juice and just relax the rest of the day. She was wrong.

“So I know we usually do the interview part before the session, however we noticed Trixie, you had a visitor during your performance, care to elaborate?” Tirxie knew this was part of the plan, Tyler had made a public appearance, they were supposed to be dating. She glanced back at the sound booth and saw Tyler nod at her. When the hell did she become so reliant on him? 

“Yeah Jeff, I don’t know if you watch hockey or anything but I snagged myself a hockey player.” The host laughed and shook his head.

“Wouldn’t be your first one,” Trixie shrugged, not really saying anything, she just wanted to get out of there. 

“What’s this one’s name?” 

“Tyler, Seguin, Tyler Seguin.” The host cleared his throat.

“I’m assuming he plays for the Dallas stars?” Trixie nodded not saying much about his team.

“The same player who posed naked for the ESPN magazine? I remember when that magazine was released everywhere, nice job. ” Trixie cringed and glanced over at Tyler. He was no longer sitting, now standing in front of the glass that separated the two. Arms crossed and a hard expression on his face. Sighing, Trixie turned back toward the host.

“How did you even manage that? You two seem to be a match made in hell.” Of course, the world saw the two as a player and a princess. Why wouldn’t they be a match made in hell.

“We’ll see, it’s still fresh and new. I’ll tell you something though, he’s definitely arm candy.” The host let out another laugh, good. Keep them entertained, keep them from asking any more questions that she didn’t feel like answering.

“Well you heard it here you guys, Trixie and Tyler Seguin. Look out Dallas, you may have a new power couple on the scene.” Trixie rolled her eyes and shook her head, sometimes she wondered if any of this was worth it. 

X-x

“So, thanks for coming.” Trixie and Tyler had decided to grab a quick lunch before he had to go home and pack for his plane tonight. He glanced up at her and nodded, with a small smile he watched as she ate her turkey sandwich from subway with a smile on her face.

“No worries, I told you I’d come. Sorry for being late though, there was traffic-” Trixie shook her head and took a sip of her drink.

“There’s always traffic downtown it’s okay.” The two ate in comfortable silence until Tyler decided to break the wall she was holding up.

“Tell me about him.” He could feel her tense up from across the table, taking notice to how all movement stopped.

“Tyler…” He put his sandwich down and stared back at her, he just wanted to get to know more about her, why she was so guarded and why Josh was the one who made her this way.

“If you don’t want to, it’s okay. I just want to know more about you, understand you, Trixie. You’re clearly not over him.” He took notice of the glare she sent him but honestly at this point he was going to dig until she caved. They were supposed to be working on being friends any ways, this would be a good place to start. 

Tyler could tell she was having a battle in her head, he knew she was trying to decide whether or not she could trust him, but who was he going to tell without exposing his current situation? After a couple moments of silence and nothing but the cars in the street going by Trixie spoke up.

“What do you want to know?” Tyler raised an eyebrow at her tone of voice, she was hard and cold and he didn’t know if he hit a switch or if this is just how she was when it came to her ex.

“Start from the beginning, how did it become more?” He offered, he wanted her to feel comfortable talking about it without feeling too pressured. 

“He uh, I guess he wasn’t getting the recognition he deserved in the hockey world. He was up against a lot of good players on his team. His manager didn’t like that he was so quiet, didn’t really attend events, so they sent me in. We got to know each other...for weeks. We were photographed together, we went out to clubs with his friends. I went to a couple of his home games, he showed up at a couple of my talk shows and performances. It was easy and comfortable and there was a friendship forming until it became more one night.” Trixie picked up a pickle off her sandwich and popped it into her mouth, she loved pickles.

“You’re gross.” She smiled a wide smile at Tyler making him laugh.

“He came over one night, a little drunk may I add. Proceeded to tell me how pretty I am, how he’s always thinking about me, the same old thing most guys tell girls to get laid and it worked. I slept with him that night. As time went on, we got closer and eventually it turned into us actually dating. Going out, introducing me to his friends as his girlfriend. I would stay over his house a lot of the time, I was happy. We dated for close to a year, the thing I didn’t know was the deeper I fell for him the further he pulled away.” Tyler was confused, he knew you couldn’t help who you liked but to waste at least a year on someone and then cheat? He also couldn’t help to think who the hell would cheat on Trixie? She was hot, really hot, gorgeous even. How did one just throw her away? 

“We voided the contract half way through our relationship, they paid us both and we continued on with what we were but like I said he was pulling further and further away. He wouldn’t ask me to stay over anymore, I would fly from California to Columbus and spend hardly any time with him, after the games he would text me to meet him at home and he’d go out with the guys. TMZ loves me, I’m one of their favorite topics every week.” Tyler could tell she was annoyed.

“So as soon as they found me one night out alone at a club with no boyfriend on my arm they ate that shit up and decided to print it in their headlines that there was trouble in paradise and even though they were right, it was still annoying and still hurt to read.” She stopped and glanced down at the table, her leg shaking hard, a habit Tyler learned she did when she was extremely nervous.

“I had to go back to California for one of the music award shows, he couldn’t come with me because he had a game which wasn’t a problem. It was his job and I understood that. I had woken up that morning in California with a text from him a text that said ‘call me.’ So I did and that’s when he told me he wanted to be with someone else, he had been seeing her for months apparently.” Trixie let out a shaky breath and Tyler watched carefully as the woman in front of him slowly tried to keep herself together.

“I loved him Tyler, I really did. I felt my heart break into a million pieces that morning, I remember crying so hard and calling Cami, asking her to come pick me up and to call my manager to cancel the show. I had an award to accept, a red carpet to walk down and a performance for my fans and I felt like I wanted to just crawl in a hole and never come back out.” Tyler was starting to understand a little bit more how strong she was. He watched her and the two jumped when his phone went off, Trixie sighed and went to reach for her phone, assuming he was going to answer it but then he did something that surprised both of them.

He silenced the call and shoved it into his pocket looking back up at her.

“Sorry, go on.” Trixie stared at him for a moment and then continued.

“Cami knew how much of a mess I was but she also knew they couldn’t cancel anything on such short notice. So with a couple shots of tequila and a few pep talks from her,  I walked down that red carpet, head held high, I accepted the award for best female artist with a broken heart and I performed for my fans with  tears streaming down my face moments before.” She finally looked up at Tyler and he could see what she had been hiding this whole, the broken heart she was nursing.

“I haven’t talked to him since, it’s been months and I’m finally okay with that. It still stings though, to know I wasn’t good enough.” Tyler shook his head.

“He’s nothing, Trixie. He fucked up and lost something pretty great.” She let out a small laugh.

“You don’t even know me.” He shrugged.

“Exactly and I can already tell you are something great.” Trixie couldn’t hide the blush that took over. Maybe there was hope for the two after all. 

X-x

“Hello?” Trixie stood in her kitchen with nothing but an oversized t-shirt and boxer shorts on. She had had a long day with her management deciding when her next appearance was, when she was going back into the studio and what other events she was going to be working on so when she got home she took a shower and changed into the comfiest clothes she could think of.  

“I have two tickets for tomorrow night’s game with your name on them, just go to the front of the building and tell them Tyler Seguin sent you.” Trixie scrunched up her nose.

“How do you know I don’t have plans?” He let out a laugh.

“Okay, sorry princess. Do you have plans?” Trixie pretended to think as she mixed her fruit into her yogurt.

“Maybe, all depends. Is your hot friend going to be there? The tall quiet one who looks like he could beat a man to his death?” Tyler groaned.

“Are you talking about Jamie?” 

“Yeah, that one!” She wasn’t actually interested; she just liked to tease Tyler; he could afford to be knocked down a couple of pegs.

“You wound me, Trixie. Be there or well there’s no other option; depending on if we win or not we’ll most likely be going out after.” Trixie made a noise of acknowledgement.

“Bring Cami, everyone knows you can’t go anywhere without your other half.” Trixie let out a squeal.

“Thank you, Tyler. We’ll be there.” 

Which is how the two girls found themselves by the ticket booth at the American Airline center on a Tuesday night. Both in casual clothes, nothing crazy. When Trixie had asked for the tickets she could see the surprise  on the employees face when they handed over the two tickets to her without any arguments. 

Trixie was used to this attention which is why they arrived early to the game even before warm ups happened because she didn’t want to make it a big deal that she was here. Trixie and Cami made their way into the building as Trixie glanced down at the tickets in her hand to figure out where they were seating. It was at that moment she realized...shit. She was sitting in the WAGS section, the VIP section for family and friends and of course girlfriends and wives. Shit. She wasn’t ready for this and if she was smarter she probably would’ve asked Tyler about it. 

“It’ll be fine, Trix. We’ll stay to ourselves and not really talk to anyone, we’ll watch the game. If it’s too much we’ll leave.” Trixie nodded and tried to keep her anxiety at bay. But of course she had no luck with anything tonight because as she walked into the booth, the usher checking her tickets to make sure they were valid, she took notice of a couple of the girls that were in there; all in which stopped to stare and gasp at her. Fuck. 

“You’re okay, Trixie.” She listened to Cami’s voice and nodded. She could do this. But then her eyes connected with a tall brunette that was standing across the room and immediately she knew this wasn’t going to be a good night. 

Aly stood talking to a blonde by the bar and when she glanced over to where Trixie was standing, Trixie could see the anger in her eyes. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

[moskaisley]

fear and loathing

gif: @pedroispunk​

pairing: javier peña x reader

rating: NC-17!! explicit!!! this is literally porn!!! if ur under, 18+ go away.

warnings: mentions of drugs, alcohol, crime, SMUT MSUSTMSUMUT

word count: 2.9k

summary:

“Oh, maybe I was a little too wild in the 70s Back down to earth with a lounge singer shimmer Elevator down to my make believe residency From the honeymoon suite Two shows a day, four nights a week Easy money”

In the years before Agent Peña was shipped to Colombia, he spent his time lost in the lights of Las Vegas, entangling himself with the lounge singer of the Flamingo Hotel and Casino.

a/n: aka me romanticizing my own city knowing it’s actually a piece of shit town. i would highly recommend u listen to star treatment by arctic monkeys bc i had that record on repeat while writing this :) enjoy space cowboys!

masterlist

The neon lights of Las Vegas were so bright they could burn skin with sin. 

People called New York the city that never sleeps, but the Big Apple couldn’t hold a candle to the mirage of chaos situated in the heart of the Mojave. This place was hotter than Hell and the citizens were like snakes, hiding from the beating sun at dawn and slithering out to hunt at dusk. The city was designed to overwhelm its “guests” with temptation. What happens here, stays here: an empty promise disguised as a secret. People talk, and the name had its own proud implication.

You didn’t have to say what you got up to in Vegas, everyone already knows.

The year was 1979. Javier Peña sat in a smoky lounge of the Flamingo, eyes lazily trained on a suited piano man playing away on stage.

He’d never come here willingly, but the DEA had him sent to Sin City investigating its suspicious abundance of every drug under the sun. Though Bugsy Siegel and many of the mobsters were long gone, the mafia still held Vegas by the balls. Their influence was atomic, going so far as to halt Metro in making any sort of move against them. Javi noticed it immediately on his first day in the office; the officers on the force only ever responded to petty crimes and traffic violations. Any call involving suited men and blow were brushed off and away. When Javi confronted one of the detectives, he only laughed in his face,

“Their lawyers are too good, Peña.”

It was only when Javi took a walk down to a shitty convenience store for a pack of cigarettes did he realize the state of the city. He saw a group of kids who couldn’t have been older than 22, high off their ass and stumbling along the sidewalk. He did his best to ignore them, but the group suddenly got louder as a girl was tripping over her heels into the street, an oncoming car only seconds away. He acted quickly grabbing her arm and pulling her flush against him, Rolls Royce tearing down the road, horn blaring at the two of them.

“You saved my life there, Mr. Mustache,” she cooed, “How could I ever repay you?”

When he looked back to her, he tried his best not to cringe. Her pupils were so dilated, he was surprised her eyes didn’t pop out of their sockets. Then, he saw the white powder off the corner of her nostril and his stomach turned. She cackled at him, and he pushed her back to her coked out friends.

Javi learned two things that night: Vegas has horrible drivers, and anyone who came close to this town rotted from the inside out. 

He figured that, in order to make any progress here, it would have to come from Hell itself. If he stuck around long enough, maybe he’d find something amongst the fields of ringing slot machines and gaudy carpet.

“Lose all your money already, son?” A voice drew him out of his thoughts. He turned to see a sharply dressed older man.

Javi faked a smile for the sake of being polite, “No, not yet. Maybe in a bit.” 

The man chuckled and sat in the leather chair to the left of him, “You should stay. They’ve got quite a show coming up.”

Fancyman bristles beside him reaching inside his breast pocket. The little bag that he pulls out is unmistakable. The high roller notices his stare, “It’ll be especially good with a little bit of this.”

Javi cocks an eyebrow at him and waves him off, “No thanks. I think I’ll just stick with these.”

He gestures to his pack of cigarettes on the small table.

“Suit yourself,” the man settles. He takes the powder on his pinky and snorts it into his nostril.

Javier holds back on rolling his eyes and instead leans into his seat. He pulls a cigarette to his lips, settling in for this magnificent show that Fancyman promised. He rifled through his leather jacket for a lighter, but nothing turned up in his pockets. 

“Let me get that for you,” a new, sultry voice whispers into his ears.

Heat creeps up his neck as a hand splays itself across his chest, tracing the exposed skin under his black button up. A golden zippo in perfectly manicured fingers appears before him, flickering to life with a tiny flame. He leans in and takes a drag, acutely aware of the lips inches away from his ear. 

“Speak of the devil,” he nearly forgot about his company for the evening, “if it isn’t our little songbird.”

“Always a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Hughes,” Javi is strangely disappointed to hear the voice had drawn away, “Who’s your friend here?”

He turns around to introduce himself, but his name dies in his throat when his eyes catch yours. You could easily be a movie star with your bright red lipstick and perfect waves of hair. His mouth goes dry when you round the corner of his chair and sit on the armrest, lighting your own thin cigarette and storing away your zippo in your fur coat.

“I don’t know, darling, but I think he’s in love.”

“Is that so?” Your perfect lips form a smile as you curl them around the filter, “What’s your name, lover?”

He coughs into his sleeve in an attempt to prevent his voice from rising three octaves.

“Javier,” he says, “It’s just Javi, though..”

Idiot. 

“Javier,” he could get drunk on the way you say his name, “Well, just Javi, could you hold onto this for me?”

His breath hitches when you slide the coat off your shoulders, revealing your body in a silk black strapless dress and a gold necklace with diamonds spilling onto your collarbone. You all but throw the fur onto his lap and stamp out your cig in the ashtray in front of him. 

“Enjoy the show, lover.”

-

Describing you as a “songbird” was a serious understatement. Javi found your voice fucking heavenly with the way it crooned out some old torch song from the 40s. He wasn’t the only one who felt this way; sober or not, the audience hung onto every note that left your lips and the room was at your command. Your smooth, honey-sweet voice melted through one melody to the next. Soon enough, you were thanking everyone for coming out and wishing the crowd a lovely stay at the Flamingo.

And then your eyes met Javi’s once again, and blood rushed to his ears.

Eyes glittering mischievously, you point directly to him, “This last song is dedicated to that man right there.”

The spotlight whips away from the stage, landing directly on Javi’s chair. He tried his best to remain stone cold, jaw clenched and dark eyes boring into yours from across the room. But his embarrassment was quite literally on display as he shifted uncomfortably under the white hot heat of the light behind him.

“Just Javi was kind enough to hold onto something very special to me,” you purred into the mic, “Please give him a round of applause.”

Thank God, for your coat. Had it not been there, the world would’ve seen the way Javi’s cock strained against his jeans.

He finally let out a huff of relief as the spotlight left his back and veered its way back to your place on the stage, your last song starting. Javi was quick to scramble for another cigarette. He looked at the coat in his lap, pausing in contemplation. His eyes darted between the fur coat and yours as you began to sing again.

“I found a place

Full of charms

A magic world

In my baby's arms....”

His hands slithered their way to the folds of the coat on his lap, dipping into the pocket and pulling out the golden lighter. He flicked the sparkwheel, a tiny fire illuminating his the curves of his face as he kept his steely gaze on you.

“Her soft embrace

Like Satin and Lace..”

Javi took a long drag, nicotine setting his chest aflame. Your black dress ripples along your legs as you cross the stage. You’re smooth in the way you pull yourself onto the grand piano, lying down and arching your breasts upward as you belt out the lyrics, shooting a dazzling smile to him.

“Wondrous place”

-

“Excuse me, miss? There’s someone here to see you.”

“Tell him he needs to get in line.”

You see Tom, the baby-faced stagehand, bristle in the reflection of your dressing room mirror. He’s heatedly whispering with the person next to him. You always felt bad for giving him the chore of turning your suitors away.

And while you expect Tom to close the door and leave you in peace, he presses on.

“He-uh-he says he has your coat, ma’am.”

Your lips curl into a devilish smile, and you turn to your sweet blushing assistant.

“Oh, send him in then. He’s okay.”

The kid obeys, pushing your door further open. The man you’ve had your eyes on all night walks through, your fur coat wrapped along his forearm.

“What a lovely surprise, Just Javi.”

You watch him in amusement as his Adam's apple bobs in his neck. You relish in the paralyzing effect you have on him.

“I just came to return this,” his voice is tight as he tries to return your fur to you. You don’t miss the way his eyes trail over your body; your black stage dress was replaced by a cream silk robe loosely tied at your waist.

“Sure you did,” you tease. His jaw clenches. A small laugh spills from your lips, “Tom, could you give us a bit of privacy?”

Silence follows after the door shuts closed. You cross the room to stand inches before him, raising a hand to caress his cheek. The other rests on the coat in his arms. His ragged breathing is music to your ears. 

“You were great tonight.”

“I aim to entertain,” you rub your thumb over his cheekbone, “Thank you.”

He clears his throat, voice growing low, “That was a pretty mean stunt you pulled out there.”

“Not a fan of the limelight, Javier?”

“No, not particularly.” 

A coy smile creeps on your face when he leans in closer, lips parting in an attempt to catch yours. You slyly dodge Javi's mouth, and it connects with the crook of your neck instead. In his frustration, he bites down hard. A satisfied mewl escapes you.

“You’re driving me insane,” he huffs against your clavicle.

“What can I say?” he pulls away to look at you with wild eyes, “I like to play with my food, Javier.”

Chest heaving, Javi throws the damn coat onto the plush velvet chaise behind you. His strong, calloused hands are at your waist, feeling the curves of your body and pulling you closer towards him. You giggled in delight at his touch and your hands flew to clutch the back of his neck, fingers entangling themselves in his hair. You squeal when he goes to grab your ass, hoisting you up and wrapping your legs around his torso. He makes his way over to your vanity, and with a sweep of his right hand, he pushes off the contents of the table to the floor. Javi sits you up against the mirror, and takes your face in his hands.

“Let me kiss you, mi amor.”

Your body swells with warmth. You didn’t plan on kissing him, but the way his accent echoed in your ears made you dizzy. Your hands drop to the opening in his button up, and you pull him in, lips crashing together. He shudders against you, tongue swiping across your bottom lip. You let Javi in with fervor, huffing against his lips. Your fingers work their way down his torso, unbuttoning his shirt. They come back to his shoulders, desperately pushing his leather jacket off his shoulders. Javi’s hands leave your face and shrug off both his garments onto the floor. Your face flushes with heat at the sight of his bare chest. He pushes himself closer between your legs, and traces his right hand towards your inner thigh. His other hand pulls the bow at your waist and your robe spills open revealing your naked body.

Javi groans at the sight before him, and his hand palms at your breast.

“Fuck, you’re stunning.”

“Take a picture. Lasts longer.”

“I intend to do way more than that, cariño.”

Your heart flutters when he pulls your vanity chair in front of you and takes a seat. He spreads your legs out wide, hooking one of them over his shoulder. You hold your breath as he kisses along the inside of your thigh. Two fingers come up to your dripping pussy, massaging against the folds and spreading them open. His fucking tongue traces against your opening and you nearly cry at how good it feels. Javi drinks in every part of you as you squirm under his mouth like any parched man would in this desert. He moves his lips upward to suck gently on your clit, and inserts two fingers into you. 

“Javi!” you croon, “Javi, baby, it feels so good.”

“Yeah? Sing it for me, sweetheart. I love hearing your voice.”

You gasp when his digits curl inside you. You wrap your hand in his hair, and pull him back up to face you. He’s still pumping into you when he stands from the chair, and your leg falls back onto the table. Trouble flickers across your face as you reach down and grip his wrist. You pull his fingers out of you and take them into your mouth, swirling your tongue and tasting your cunt on his tips. 

“Shit, baby,” Javi grunts and uses his free hand to pull you flush against his hips. You moan at the feeling of his cock through his jeans. He presses his forehead against yours and removes his fingers from your hot mouth. Your deft hands fly to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. You claw at the waistband of his boxers, dipping your soft hands below to palm his thick cock.

Javi’s eyes shut at the contact, cursing under his breath when you wrap your fingers around the tip and squeeze.

“I knew I was gonna fuck you the minute I saw you,” You shift under him to whisper in his ear, “I’m so glad you don’t disappoint.”

“How?” Javi is barely holding it together, head spinning as you slowly stroke his shaft, “You couldn’t even see my face in the lounge.”

“No, I couldn’t. But I saw you in the lobby,” you push down his underwear and his cock springs out, “It was just my luck you came to see me.”

You pull him into another searing kiss, dick still in hand. His heart races as you rub him along your wet entrance. He leans forward and his arms pin themselves beside your head against the vanity mirror. He thrusts his length fully inside you, and the sound you make is ungodly. Your tight cunt is so warm and tight and he begins to move faster. The slapping of his torso against the back of your thighs reverberates around your dressing room, and your vanity table shakes with every push into you. Anything remaining on your table shifted and fell to the floor with the rest of Javi’s clothes. 

He pulls his hands away from your mirror, and he presses them into your shoulders for stability. His lips move from yours and attack your neck, sucking at the supple skin below your jawline.

You let out a strangled mewl, but chide “Not on my neck, lover. I’ve got a show tomorrow.”

Javi nearly whines in frustration and pushes you backwards, forcing you to arch your chest into him. He kisses along your sternum instead, sucking down hard and marking you with a purple hickey between your breasts. The sight riles him up further, and he plows into you faster.

“Fuck, Javier, I’m gonna cum!” 

“Look at me, mi amor. I wanna see you,” he tilts your chin upwards with his finger.

A wave of pleasure washes over you and your lips are chanting his name as you ride your orgasm. Javi has his own shortly after you, cum spilling into you and leaking around the sides of his dick. He pulls out of you and leans against the table, arms flexing next to your legs.You sit up and kiss the corner of his mouth. Pushing yourself off your vanity, you push past him and bend over your chaise lounge, shuffling through your forgotten coat. You turn back to Javier leaning against the armrest and you light one of your slim cigs. You take your first drag and pull it from your lips, offering it to him as you exhale. When he goes to take it from your fingers, however, you abruptly tug at his arm, throwing him onto your chaise. 

His bewilderment made you chuckle, “What are you doing there, sweetheart?”

Your mischievous smile returns as you twist the cig in your fingers, 

“Hold onto this for me, Javier.”

You stick the filter into the corner of his mouth as you straddle his legs, and you peel off your robe to reveal all of yourself to him.

“I hope you’ve enjoyed your stay,” you coo as you lick your lips “but I don’t think I’m quite done singing for the night.”

You were no songbird. You were a siren. A succubus. Like everything else in Las Vegas, you would take and take and take and leave nothing but dry bones and dust in your wake.

.

a/n: disclaimer: las vegas is actually lame as fuck. 

but i hope u liked the very basic history lesson i peppered in there anyway haha. fun fact: the lawyers for all those mobsters actually became mayor at some point. 

the song mentioned in this fic is wondrous place by billy fury! 

the title is totally ripped from fear and loathing in las vegas! because we love references.

idk if there’s gonna b another part for this?? mayb if y’all rly want it i have a few ideas but after this i want to focus back on to migraine. lmk if u like it!! bc it was actually fun just writing about a place i know. hope you all enjoyed!

taglist 

@starkstranges​  @mysterihoeee​

thanks for reading! see u space cowboys <3

- leo

[dakotacrisis]

For Better or Worse

I FIXED IT! I had to help my poor children through this cringe-fest. No akuma and these two have an actual effing conversation about their feelings!

MAJOR SPOILERS if you haven’t seen Puppeteer 2 yet.

---

This day was turning into a nightmare. What was Alya thinking? Marinette couldn’t confess right now. So many things weren’t right! Even with Tikki’s encouraging words Marinette still found a black hole of doubt swirling in her chest. She left the bathroom repeating that she could do this if only to help her convince herself that this wasn’t insane.

She looked up and saw Adrien across the room. “Huh?” Marinette got closer, “They finished the statue already? I thought it was gonna take longer. That’s the whole reason we all got to come here in the first place.”

It was an incredible likeness. She stood to admire it for a moment before an idea popped into her head. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if she could practice her confession on the Adrien statue before confronting the real thing.

“Okay. A little practice never hurt anyone. Not like anyone’s around to see me put my foot in my mouth.” Marinette looked around to make sure no one was watching. “Hello Adrien, it’s me, uh, Marinette. No--he knows who you are already!” Marinette chastized herself.

“Focus, Marinette!” she took a deep breath and turned back to the statue. “Uh hey, Adrien, sorry for running off so suddenly. I saw the finished figure back on the main floor. You look good! I mean it looks good! Not to say you don’t look good but--”

Marinette dropped her head into her hands. “Why is this so hard?”

She stared back at the statue and sighed. “Figures, I can’t even tell a wax figure how I feel. Even if he rejects me I want him to know though. It’s not just a little crush but real admiration. I--I--”

She squared her shoulders and looked at the statue. They even got the exact right shade of green for his eyes. “Adrien, I...I like you. Not just as a friend. I’ve had a crush on you since you gave me your umbrella that rainy day after school. Getting to know you over the time we’ve spent together has only solidified what I feel. You’re sweet and kind and brave. You see the best in everyone and have the patience of a saint. Especially with me. That’s why this is so hard, trying to tell you how I feel without spewing word vomit. I get nervous because while the fantasy in my head is nice, it can come crumbling down with one word from you. Now more than ever I feel like I need that fantasy. I’m under so much pressure with things I can’t even tell anyone about.”

She placed a hand on Wax-Adrien’s cheek. The wax was still warm it seems. “I like you, Adrien. I hope that you can like me the same way.”

She leaned closer as if to kiss him but stopped. “Stupid.” she muttered and shuffled past him towards the elevator.

“Wait!” A hand grabbed her wrist. She turned back and saw that the Adrien statue was holding her. Wait. Not a statue.

IT! WAS! NOT! A! STATUE!

“Adrien?” Marinette’s brain started to fry. He was playing a prank! Of course they didn’t finish the statue that fast! He was just trying to play a harmless prank and she--oh no!

“Marinette, I--”

“Why didn’t you say something?” She wretched her arm away from him, “That wasn’t funny, Adrien! Not funny at all!”

She ran back toward the elevator. “Goodness, I’m such an idiot!” She slammed the button for any other floor. The doors started to shut but a hand shot through and pried them back open.

“Marinette, wait, please,” Adrien begged as he jumped into the elevator. The doors slid shut behind him blocking Marinette’s exit. “I’m sorry. It was meant to just be a prank. I thought it may cheer you up.”

Marinette squeezed herself into the farthest corner of the elevator. “Why would I need cheering up?” she muttered.

“Because uh,” Adrien fiddled with his ring, “I thought you were mad at me. What Nino said and then you taking off like that I thought that maybe I had done something wrong. That you hated me for some reason. The prank was supposed to lighten the mood I guess.”

“I don’t hate you.” Marinette looked past him at the elevator key pad. In her rush she had hit one of the topmost floors. This elevator wasn’t exactly speedy either. She was stuck with this conversation whether she liked it or not.

“I gathered as much,” Adrien stood in the corner opposite of her. “Did you really mean all that? What you said when you thought I was a statue?”

Now was the time to deny. Deny everything and let this whole mortifying experience die in a hole where it belongs.

But Marinette didn’t want to deny it. It was the truth. Every single bit of it. “I can’t lie to you, Adrien. I...I did mean it. I meant every word.”

There was a long silence.

“Say something,” she squeezed her eyes shut, “Please.”

“Sorry, I was letting it sink in.” He finally said. “I guess I wasn’t expecting a confession today.”

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to say anything. I knew it would ruin everything.” Marinette slumped to the ground. “I feel so stupid.”

“No, you’re not,” Adrien sat down next to her, “To be honest I was rather shocked. I thought you liked Luka.”

“Luka is great.” Marinette shrugged, “But he isn’t you.”

She dared to meet his eyes once more. He was looking at her with a mixture of awe and pity. “And I’m not Kagami.”

“Kagami?” Adrien’s eyebrows raised, “What does Kagami have to do with you confessing to me?”

“Adrien, please, I know you like her. I helped you go on a date with her for goodness sake.” that dark curling snake of jealousy constricted around her heart.

“Right…” he stared back at the ground, “If you’ve liked me for as long as you’ve said then why did you help me? Why would you offer to help set me up with someone else?”

She drew her knees up to her chest, “Because seeing you happy means more to me than my crush. If I can’t be the one to make you happy then I’d rather see you with someone who could. It doesn’t matter what I feel in that instance. It’s not my heart.”

“Marinette,” Adrien hesitated to put on a hand on her shoulder, “I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t try and--”

“I mean it!” he turned to her fully so he was kneeling in front of her, both of his hands clasped on her shoulders, “You said how I was kind and brave but you are ten times that. You are without a doubt one of the kindest, bravest, most talented, passionate, and selfless people I have ever met. You are so confident and driven that I can’t help but look at you in wonder. The only person I can think of coming anywhere close to how incredible you are is Ladybug herself. But you don’t need a suit or powers to be amazing. You’re our everyday Ladybug...my everyday Ladybug.”

Marinette was at a loss for words. Would it be too much to cry right now?

The doors pinged open and Alya and Nino were standing there waiting with Manon between them.

“Oh hey,” Alya surveyed the scene, “We were helping Theo look for Adrien but you seem to be in good hands.”

“Alya!” Marinette made a break for the door.

“See you back down in the studio!” Alya was quicker and hit the button for the studio floor. She gave Marinette a wink before the doors shut again. Adrien and Marinette alone again for another long trip back down.

“I am going to kill her.” Marinette banged her head against the door.

“Is that what they were talking about before?” Adrien asked, “The whole thing about leaving us alone together was to…”

“Give me a chance to confess. Yes.” Marinette turned back around, “Not that she told me that earlier. Which is why I panicked and bolted earlier.”

“I still don’t fully understand.”

“Alya and Nino thought they were helping because I’ve been trying for months to tell you how I feel--”

“Not that.” Adrien interrupted her, “I wonder how someone as spectacular as you could see so much in someone as lame as me.”

“You are not lame, Adrien.” Marinette smiled as she took her place sitting back across from him. “You are probably the least lame person I know.”

“You only say that because you like me.”

“No, I don’t. Also, this self-deprecating behaviour of yours has to stop. You are a wonderful individual. You’re a master fencer, you play piano beautifully, you’re fluent in Chinese, and you’re a talented voice actor as well as a model.”

“Only because my father has me practice all those things until I’m perfect at them.”

“What about video games? You’re second only to me, after all. You’re also insanely smart. I think that you and Max are the only ones who got straight A’s on their report cards last term. That is all you, Adrien.”

He finally smiled at her again. “Not to say you don’t have a dorky side too. You’re still socially awkward and make dumb jokes from time to time but it’s cute.”

“You’re not perfect either. You can get a bit scatter brained when caught off guard and you seem to have an intimate relationship with the floor.” he smirked in a way that made her heart race.

“Oh, it’s like that is it?” She laughed, “You know in the anime world my clumsiness would be seen as adorable and endearing.”

“You watch anime?” Adrien’s head perked up, “I didn’t know that about you.”

The rest of the elevator ride was spent in comfortable conversation. It went from them talking about what anime shows they liked to other interests. Music, food, video games, favorite puns. By the time they reached the studio floor again they were leaning on one another howling with laughter with bad joke after bad joke.

“Okay. Okay. I got another one.” Adrien said as he and Marinette got off the elevator, “What do you call a fake noodle?”

“What?” Marinette giggled.

“An impasta!” the two broke down into hysterics again.

“It’s so dumb!”

“If it’s so dumb then why is it so funny?”

“I got one. What kind of tea is the hardest to swallow?”

“Reali-tea?” Adrien guessed.

“Boo! You stole my joke!” she pounded on his chest.

“Get better jokes then,” he grabbed her hands to stop their assault. “I could send you a link to a site I know. The best kind of bad jokes you’ll ever find.”

“Adrien, there you are.” Theo walked up to them, “Where did you go?”

“Oh sorry,” Adrien smiled in apology, “I, uh, got stuck in the elevator.”

“Well, you’re back now. Come then, I’d like to get your figure done today.”

They walked back into the studio. Nino, Alya, and Manon had yet to make it back. Adrien placed his other hand inside the mold. “Now don’t go running off this time. I need to go grab more wax.”

With that Marinette and Adrien were alone once again.

“Hey, Marinette?” Adrien said.

“Yeah?” she plopped herself into a chair next to him.

“We kinda got off-track earlier in the elevator. I just started gushing about you and then you said all those sweet things to me and then we started with the jokes and well…” he took a deep breath, “I think we still need to address the elephant in the room.”

“Right,” Marinette was hoping that they may have just forgotten about her confession with all the other stuff that had happened, “You have an answer for me?”

“I feel like I need to explain first.”

Oh that was a great way to start this! He was gonna break her heart, wasn’t he? Of course he doesn’t like you like that! He’s crushing on Kagami! Stupid! Stupid!

“Stop that.” Adrien’s voice broke her from her thoughts.

“Huh?”

“You’re panicking. I can see it in your eyes.” he motioned for her to come closer. He took her hand with his free one, “There’s nothing for you to be scared about.”

“Don’t give me false hope like that.”

“I mean it.” he held her hand tighter, “You’re amazing, Marinette. What all I said before I meant it. I just never thought of you that way.”

“Adrien…”

“That’s not what I meant!” he pulled her closer so she couldn’t run away again, “I mean with Luka and my own warring feelings I just never explored what I felt for you more deeply. You were my friend and that’s all I thought there was to it.”

“Were?” Her heart started to beat faster.

“Yeah,” Adrien looked deep into her eyes, “You...you’re great. You mean a lot to me and I--I--I think I--I don’t know. It’s all happening so fast that I can’t think straight. All I do know is that I like you. I like you as a friend but also not. There’s something there. Something has always been there like a detail in a painting you never noticed before that changes how you see the rest of it.”

“What are you saying?” She didn’t dare so much as breathe at that moment.

“I feel something for you. I may not have it all figured out now but I’d like to.” the bell dinged and he released his hand from the mold. He held both her hands in his. “Can we talk about this? Really talk about it? Say somewhere more private and over a plate of cookies?”

“I’d like that.” she touched her forehead to his. “I’d like that a lot.”

---

(Read the rest on AO3)

[baritonetcc]

Talent

I can’t believe where I am, I look like a protagonist of a cliche anime scene. Allergy-inducing blossoms and buds rain down around me, in a slow breeze, so more like a caramel rain. My only ride is running late, so I’m forced to remain on school grounds past my scheduled time of death. The school courtyard is empty, since school has been out for long enough for the buses to leave, and athletes were changing for sports practice. I’m sitting under a tree, finishing up a book that I stole from my English teacher’s shelf (thanks, Mr. Bradner). Oh hey, speaking of Mr. Bradner, I should go hang out in his room. The breeze is blowing majestic fronds into my not-so-majestic hair and mouth, so an empty classroom would be a nice chance of pace. I’m sure Savannah has stopped annoying him by now and pissed off to whatever hellhole she crawled out of.

I’m walking up to the building where Mr. Bradner’s room is, and Andrew Pratt bursts out of the doors, clearly late for track practice. 

“Where have you been, Tommie? I’ve been looking for you forever! I’ve been wanting to ask you something.”

Oh boy, here we go with his questions. If he asks me for answers for the math review again I swear-

“So some of the band members have been wanting to perform in an ensemble for the talent show, a big band. We wanted to play ‘Feel The Love Go’ by Franz Ferdinand, and we need someone to play the alto solo...?”

He knows that I’m going to say yes, doesn’t he. He couldn’t have asked any other alto sax player? He couldn’t have had another instrument play it? I think it would be really cool on piano. 

Thinking that I wasn’t getting the hint he continued, “So would you be interested in it? We really wanted to give it to you...”

I finally open my mouth, knowing that Andrew’s coach is going to murder him. “Sure. Text me when you can, now go to practice.”

Andrew is so good at life. He gets along with his family, he has an amazing dog, he’s a great trombone player, and he’s a track star. I wish he was better at managing his time.

I sink into a desk in Mr. Bradner’s room, where he’s correcting papers. He likes to work until he’s done with whatever task he assigns himself before going home, so I don’t say much. I go through the tasks I have written in my planner, and it’s quite bare, more than usual. I occasionally look up to see Mr. Bradner scowling at someone’s chicken scratch, or whoever’s in the hallway. Hey. Mr. Heser’s walking by. Eventually, my phone buzzes with a text. 

Andrew P(rat)t: Kyre has all the music for the group, u should go take a look ok?

What a slacker, I hope he trips because he was texting me instead of tying his shoes. I gather my things and head down to the band hall, where Mrs. Kyre resides. I get to thinking about the important questions. Who else is in the group? Why can’t I just NOT be in the talent show? I was hoping I could spend the rest of the year taking it easy, without having to worry about the talent show in June. I find myself in the band room, where Mrs. Kyre conveniently remembers to hand me the music upon seeing me. Andrew set me up for this. I whip up my hair and bust out my saxophone. I stay in the actual band room, since it’s not being used and I’d rather not lock myself in a practice room. I glance at the clock while wrestling the ligature onto the mouthpiece. I can’t believe it’s already almost four, I should’ve just walked home. I warm up quickly, look through the music, and begin trying it. Whoever wrote this isn’t half bad at transcribing, and they thankfully took mercy on the alto saxes. It was probably one of Andrew’s nerdy friends. Wait. I’m one of his nerdy friends. 

I dig into the piece, and I get into the solo part. I honk my soul out with the epicness that Adolf Sax couldn’t even begin to imagine, when I see someone walk in out of the corner of my eye. I’ve never sightread this well in my entire life before. Hell yeah, check out this badassery, Mrs. Kyre! And then I realize it’s not Mrs. Kyre. It’s Miss Avery. In that moment, I forget what key signature I’m in. I don’t know what measure I’m on. I forget how to finger any of these notes. What’s a note? I hopelessly squeak a half-assed attempt at the rhythm written on the page, then stop because I think my ears have actually fallen off.

Miss Avery smiles at me. Of course she does. She doesn’t know half of the effect she has on me. I try to talk to her, but all the words stick to my throat on the way up. Oh, and my saxophone is still in my mouth.

“Wow, that’s some real nice stuff there. You’re so into your whole band thing. I love it.”

I know she’s lying. That was the worst sound I’ve heard since hearing someone MacGyver a thick layer of aluminum foil in between the rollers of a Polaroid camera, then threw it at a running band saw when the shop teacher walked by. I didn’t even know my instrument could make such racket.

“Thanks, Miss. Are you looking for Mrs. Kyre?”

“Yeah, actually. Oh, there she is.”

Miss Avery and Mrs. Kyre set to getting completely distracted with whatever they talk about, and I get through the rest of the song.

I can’t believe I’m in Andrew’s living room with my saxophone. Honestly, it’s kind of cozy though. All of us practicing together, on these nice pillows and not in the band room. The entire way here, I complained to my friends via text about going to Andrew’s house, but I’m enjoying myself more than I made it seem. It’s a nice tone overall, and it’s a nice change since our drummer isn’t here. It’s a calm and quiet evening, and some jazzy tunes makes it powerful. His mom also makes otherworldly cupcakes. They don’t even have frosting or anything, but they taste like a sweet, buttery blanket of the warmth of innocence. It’s a week before the final show, and we’re really just working on dynamics and expression to really nail the song. Since it’s so close to the show, there’s been a lot of hype. Miss Avery asked me if I was going to see the talent show. I really wanted to surprise her, so I told her I was going, rather than informing her that I was in it, like the good child I usually am.

It’s the night of the show. I’m standing offstage in my snazzy tux (thanks, Andrew’s mom) and holding my saxophone. I usually don’t wear anything like this, which is why I’m borrowing something that Andrew’s mom pulled out of his closet from a couple years ago. He’s tall and skinny, so I didn’t have to steal anything recent from him. Last minute, we figured the stage would be blazing by the time we got on, so we ditched our jackets. The sleeves of my stark white shirt are neatly rolled up, and it’s not a bad look for me. This shirt fits surprisingly well, with the buttons over my chest doing their job, even if Andrew is a stick compared to me. Apparently, one of the trumpet players had a problem with the fact that she wore her nice diamond earrings, and I wore purple gauges. I can’t wait until she finds out that they glow in the dark. They match the album cover of the song we’re playing, so I think I win here.

I peek around the curtain, since nobody really cares at this point. The theatre’s seats are filling in with equal amounts of snickering teenagers and parents with genuine concern for our generation. I silently thank them as my eyes wander. Our theatre has planetarium-style lighting, along with the typical lights lining the wall. It’s calming to see all the bustling shadows of people finding a place to sit. I look up towards the back, and see Miss Avery coming in. She seems like she’s in a rush, and she’s looking around frantically. I dismiss the idea that she’s looking for me...but, is she? She spots a group of other teachers and they wave her over. Probably not, then. 

A couple kids eventually take the stage to thank everyone for coming, and begin intoducing the acts. I suck on my reed absentmindedly.

There’s a few dance groups, which were definitely all entertaining. Someone did a backflip off of a chair. There’s a lot of people who sing, including Savannah, who sang some basic, repetitive pop song. The musical acts are impressive, but maybe I’m just biased. Finally, the curtains close, to open for one last time. A bored looking junior steps on with a microphone, telling the theatre, “The last, but not least act we have is a band ensemble. They will be performing ‘Feeling Love Go’ by Fronz Ferdindand.” Whatever, close enough. “The group consists of various members of our school’s band, and features a saxophone solo, played by Tommie Byers.” That’s me. 

We hurry to get all of our equipment on stage. The most terrifying part was Talon’s fancy Moog keyboard setup, and making sure we were all in the right place. As we’re setting up, ‘Paper Cages’ plays. I’m wondering who’s responsible for shoving Franz Ferdinand down everybody’s throats. It’s probably the drummer. Our bari saxes conveniently bump their stands together, knocking over their music. I stand in my assigned spot perfectly, and the curtain opens. I haven’t even thought about Miss Avery again until now. Did she enjoy the rest of the show? Has she already gotten up to leave early? Once my sight adjusts to the dark sea of humans, I find her, with her eyes trained on the stage. 

The song kicks in, starting with just the rhythm section. The winds then pick up on the melody, and the guitarist strums out funky chords. Talon and his brother work magic on the keyboards. The brass delivers a bright punch, lead by Andrew. I swell with anticipation as I feel my solo come up. For some reason, I look right at Miss Avery, who has no idea what’s going to hit her. I wink. God, that was probably so cringe-worthy. I bust into my solo, starting small at first. Then I’m out there, jumping the octave, and tonguing some banging rhythms. The winds start doing this siren sounding pattern to fill in. Am I dancing? Oh God, I’m dancing. I kick out my legs and do that weird swinging squat swing like every dramatic sax player does. The brass kicks out, except for one trumpet, which follows the siren action. My solo ends after some dizzying sixteenth notes, and I’m still swayed by the music. The rhythm section continues the ride with the winds, until the song ends on a kind of questioning note, almost as if we are prompting the audience to react with whatever they were holding in the whole time.

Everybody loses it, maybe because it’s just the last show and they want to go home. All the show’s participants rejoin on the stage for pictures and such. Some kids were getting flowers from friends and family. I run down into the rapidly emptying theatre, still huffing, still red from the lights, and still holding my saxophone. My neck strap digs into my skin, as I chase after Miss Avery. We make eye contact, and she grins at me. 

“So, what did you think?” “What did I think? Well, I didn’t! That was awesome, kid! When you stepped up with that solo, my mind was blown. You did great up there, and I’m sure every person in this room enjoyed it!”

“Oh, thanks! I...I worked really hard on it, and it was really fun, actually.” “You don’t have to say that, I think we alllll knew how much fun you were having up there,” at this point, Talon’s younger brother came to retrieve my awkwardly dangling saxophone, “and I had no idea! How come you never told me that you guys were getting together to do this?”

I chuckled, “Well, I didn’t know I was supposed to.”

“That was amazing, and I’ve never seen you like that before. Come here!”

Before I know it, her arms are around me. I can’t imagine that it’s pleasant to hug a musician so passionately right after their performance, but my endorphins don’t care. Miss Avery gets a parent to take a picture of us together, and my new lock screen is Miss Avery with her arm around me in front of the stage. I’m still wearing my neck strap.

[rhysanoodle]

Teach Me

Feysand fluff

Word count: 1822

Inspired by this post by @captainluxiian

And this art by @porcelainart

AO3

Part 1

Part 2

“Orrin, slow down!” I yelled from over the banister.

It wasn’t even breakfast time, and already he had popped out of bed in a frenzy this morning and was trying to chase his Uncle Azriel around the foyer, delighting in making the larger Illyrian try to duck and dodge his grubby hands while Az tried ever-so-cautiously not to knock anything over with his wings.

I caught the gaze of the Shadowsinger, giving him my best apologetic smile. At six years old, Orrin was a powerhouse, a never-ending fountain of energy which we were hoping would one day be well-directed into ruling the Night Court with honor. He was only a few years away from his first visit to Windhaven, where Rhys and I would move for his adolescent years to give him the same training my mate had been succumbed to in his adolescence.

A sudden wailing noise came from over my shoulder. That would be my niece, Ava. I motioned to Az that I’d take care of her, relishing the relative peace and quiet she’d afford me once she was freed from her crib. At least compared to what was now occurring downstairs.

Her mother was already out tending the garden, but I was still greeted by a giggle and the most adorable grin as I walked into the nursery and Ava realized who had come to get her out of bed this morning.

As I approached her, she pulled up on the bars and got into a standing position, miniscule wings flapping aggressively. They’d just begun to start unfurling last month, and, with any luck, they’d be fully formed by the time she reached one year old.

They still wouldn’t be strong enough to carry her weight for a few years yet, but I missed the days before Orrin was raring to go, demanding that anybody with a set of wings begin teaching him the ropes of flying. Now it was all I could do to keep him grounded when we weren’t able to watch his every move.

Rhys and I had been trying for another child since not long after our son was born with no luck. Hopefully this time it would be a daughter for Rhys to no doubt spoil rotten.

I cherished any time I got to sneak away and care for Ava, grateful that Elain and Az had come to live with us on a more full-time basis not long after she was born.

After changing her and summoning a bottle from the kitchen, I walked down to the drawing room where the piano sat. It had been gathering dust for months, neither of us able to find much of a spare minute to play with all the chaos going on in our little household once we’d managed to finish our official duties.

I missed it. The late nights where Rhys and I would just sit for hours, hammering out familiar melodies, trying to recreate symphonies we’d heard performed in the Rainbow. He had been patient with me from the beginning, not minding the nights where it was a significant struggle as I tried to learn how to decipher the clefs and key signatures on the page.

Rhys always caressed me down the bond, soothing my nerves whenever I’d get so incredibly frustrated that I still stumbled after months of playing, reminding me that he’d spent years learning to become decent, and centuries trying to master it.

Now, whenever we were awoken by nightmares, we usually also had another bedmate who had heard us and wormed his way into our bed. We’d stay silently still, sometimes just glancing between ourselves and our precious boy, praying he never had to experience the trauma we’d been subjected to — and reminding ourselves that we’d made it out. And we were so incredibly blessed with how our lives turned out.

As I sat on the bench, seating a babbling Ava in my lap, I found myself reminiscing of that night all those years ago when my musical journey began. Unable to contain myself, I began to leisurely play the melody Rhys had helped me tap out on the keys all those year ago — our song. I closed my eyes, content to let the music take me away. As I grew more familiar with playing again and began to regain my muscle memory, I increased my tempo, catching up to the intended speed, the notes soaring out for beneath my fingers.

Just as I was reaching the end of the first movement, I was pulled from my reverie by a small beating of wings and some plodding footsteps.

“Wow, mommy! That was amazing!” Orrin exclaimed, shuffling up to me and tugging on my tunic. An out-of-breath Az was close on his tail, looking for all the world as if he’d tried to give me a few more moments of peace. “How’d you make it do that?”

“Well,” I explained, “I just press down on the keys, and each one makes a different sound. See?” I demonstrated by pressing and holding the middle C key. “When you press many of them at the same time and string them together, you can make a song. Just like this.” I performed a quick practice etude.

The look in his small violet eyes was nothing short of awestruck. “Please. Pleeeease will you teach me how to do that?” he pleaded, giving me a look he knew made me melt most of the time.

I thought about it for a moment before coming to a decision. “Go ask your father, Bud, okay?”

He face sunk. “But he’s not even home right now. It could be houuuurs before he’s here to teach meeeee!” He drew out some of his syllables like molasses as he began to tear up, and I could sense a tantrum about to erupt out of him.

“Yes, but he’s a much better piano player than I am,” I said conspiratorially. “He taught me. You wouldn’t want to miss out on this opportunity because you couldn’t wait a few hours, would you?”

Az shot me a grin and added, “You’re so lucky. I’ve been trying to get him to teach me for years, but your mommy has been keeping him all to herself.”

Orrin’s eyes lit up as he quickly agreed and began to drag his uncle with him to the kitchen, stating that he needed to eat up now because he had to be full and ready to go whenever Rhys came home.

I laughed to myself, struggling to keep from relaying this precious conversation to Rhys but knowing that the surprise would be worth it when he got home from the Court of Nightmares.

“Daddy!” The shrill yell could be heard throughout the estate, as Rhys no doubt winnowed into the foyer early that afternoon.

I left my seat at the kitchen table to go greet my mate with a kiss, and saw that Orrin was already tugging at his pant legs in anticipation.

“Hello, Feyre darling,” Rhys purred at me as I came into view, the familiar greeting paired with the longing on his face making my toes curl with desire, even after all these years.

“You’re home early,” I replied. I gave him a swift peck on the cheek, but did little more to encourage him, knowing that the two of us wouldn’t be able to satisfy our own urges until much later tonight, when the little one was finally in bed.

“Mor’s been doing her job incredibly well lately. Remind me to buy her a present for having already finalized most of the weapons deal with Keir before I even arrived this morning.”

By this point, we could both tell Orrin was about to burst from excitement as Rhys knelt down next to him and asked, “And how has your morning been, kiddo?”

Orrin cringed slightly at the nickname, but barreled on, intent on relaying his wish to Rhys.

“Daddy, will you teach me how to play the piano? It’s the coolest, most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard, and Mommy and Uncle Az told me you were the best piano player ever.”

Rhys’ eyes never left Orrin’s face, but I felt a brush against my mental shields. I opened up the familiar sliver just for him.

The best ever, Feyre darling?

The one and only. He may be embellishing a bit, but who could blame him? You’re his hero.

That’s a whole lot to live up to.

I’m sure the most powerful High Lord in history will have no problem training the next great virtuoso.

Do you think he’s actually serious about wanting to learn? 

A slight tinge of worry was sent along with that question. I knew it wasn’t for our son, but for Rhys. For the fact that he might get his hopes up only to have Orrin grow frustrated or bored of it quickly and never show interest again.

You were younger than him when you had your first lesson, and look at you now. It’s all he’s talked about for hours now. I might have told him you could start as soon as you were done working.

Cruel, wicked thing. 

At that, I shut him out, not willing to let him turn this conversation into a flirtation when there were more important things to do right now.

“I’d love to,” Rhys responded out loud, ruffling Orrin’s hair. “Why don’t you give me a few minutes to change and grab a snack, and I’ll meet you in the drawing room.”

Half an hour later, I crept into the doorway, and watched as Rhys, with Orrin on his lap, guided his small hands ever so slowly over the keys, demonstrating how to make his fingers curl properly, and letting him know not to get too discouraged by the fact that the size of his hands made it slightly more difficult to spread his fingers out correctly.

Orrin was raptly paying attention for the first time in years, soaking it all in, desperate to begin truly playing a song. It was the most focused I’d seen him in awhile, and it made me smile, remembering the moments he couldn’t, where as a toddler, his father would seat him on his lap, and serenade him.

As Rhys sensed me hovering in his periphery, the bond was filled with a sense of joyous melancholy. I knew the words he didn’t even need to say — the memories that were now coursing through him of his mother teaching him to play and the peace he was finding at finally being able to pass this piece of her onto our child. To give him a sense of the grandmother Rhys so wished was still here to see this day.

I sent a loving caress down the bond, pouring my heart out to him in the way that was best done mind-to-mind, as a tear slid down his cheek.

Thank you.

< Previous  Masterlist

Tagging: @porcelainart @ineedcrossants @illyrianinterrasen @dagypsygirl

[blipblorpwritingsnork]

Op. 64 No 2 Waltz (Neji x Reader)

Just wrapping up your studying for the night, you hear the beautiful sound of piano trickling down the hall.

CW: None

It was well into your self-designated study session in the boarding school’s library when you heard the soft trill of a piano. It was so gentle at first that it almost seemed to be part of your concentration. Rather than notice it suddenly, it gradually came to life in your unconscious mind until you realized you were humming along with the familiar piece. That’s when you finally noticed properly that someone was playing one of Chopin’s waltzes on the old grand piano in the music room next door.

After roughly scrubbing your hands over your face you decided you were definitely interested. You’d lost yourself to your books yet again, as you were rather prone to do; a glance at your watch told you that you’d missed hot dinner and that most of your friends would be lounging in the rather noisy recreational room. That, decidedly, was an endeavor for some time you didn’t have mid-terms. Besides, you hadn’t even realized that old beast of a piano was still in tune.

You left your books at the table you’d been sitting at—no one was going to take them and the dusty old librarian was probably asleep in the archives again. If she crawled out of her hovel long enough to get annoyed she would know to put them somewhere safe; you had been in there every night for a few weeks now.

Stretching your arms above your head, grimacing lightly at the gross pops both shoulders and half your spine made, you walked to the large doors slowly. Unconsciously, you’d measured your steps against the rhythm of the waltz s you made your way down the hall, but a thought caused you to falter just slightly. It occurred to you that whoever was playing may not have wanted company… If they were playing at a quarter to eight, maybe they’d simply wanted their solitude. You certainly knew that feeling well. Konoha Boarding Academy could be rather overwhelming with no place to truly call your own.

With this thought fresh on your mind, you slowed your steps further and then stopped altogether. (E/c) eyes half-mast as you listened more intently, you put a crooked finger to your (s/c) lips. The waltz sounded so… Sad. It had always struck you as melancholy and a bit remorseful in its own respects, but whoever was playing it now had known very real pain in their life.

It was a few more silent moments in which you let Chopin’s sorrowful composition surround and entrance you before you took the last few steps to the partially open door. Quietly as ever, you peeked inside, smiling rather softly at what you saw.

A student, a young man looking to be roughly your age and wearing the soft (f/c) ascot that denoted him as being in your grade, was sitting at the large piano, fingers gently gliding across the keys. His long, deep brown hair nicely framed him as he swayed softly with each keystroke. Held back from his face by a thick black bandana around his forehead, it fell neatly to about the middle of his back.

Your smile grew as you caught the side of his face; from what you could tell, he was rather handsome, almost pretty. Who knew such a talented looker like himself boarded here? You couldn’t remember seeing him in any of your classes, the commons, or even the cafeteria. Perhaps he had just transferred in?

You grimaced hard and shrunk into your shoulders, slamming your eyes shut instinctively as the slightest shift in your weight made the floorboard directly below you groan almost dramatically in protest. With a rueful and sheepish expression on your face, you cracked open your (e/c) eyes slowly, having heard the piano stop instantly and feeling not for the first time that maybe you really weren’t going to be welcome after all.

You gasped, and simultaneously fumbled for an apology as soon as you realized what you’d done. The young man had turned to face the door, an annoyed expression on his face. But what caught you so off guard were his eyes. They were white, almost completely so; the line of his iris seemed to almost fade into the sclera like they were one and the same. It was apparent to you in that moment that he was blind, and that gasping so obviously would likely be a great cause for insult.

You snapped into an apologetic bow at the waist, slurring out, “Oh my goodness I’m so sorry please excuse me!” You remained in that bow, fists clenched in front of your knees as you felt a completely humiliated flush creep across the backs of your ears. So much for a good first impression.

Instead of calling you out for being rude or getting aggravated however, the young man sighed audibly before saying, “It’s fine.” You heard the bench shift against the plush carpet and looked up shyly. He didn’t seem any more annoyed than when he’d heard you the first time, and his acceptance of the apology was quick enough but… His expression hardly seemed to carry any emotion in it.

“My name is (L/n) (F/n),” you offered politely as further way of apology. “I’m sorry I barged in like this but I was studying next door and couldn’t help but be curious.” Another small smile lit your (s/c) features as you added, “You play beautifully.”

You watched hesitantly, really hoping you hadn’t offended him, before you witnessed a small smile take hold of his own lips. “Hyuuga Neji,” he offered, nodding in your direction politely. The amusement in his voice was obvious. “Thank you. I’ve been playing since I was young. However, I believe it is actually time for me to be heading back to my room.”

“Oh! I’m sorry I didn’t mean to keep you—!” you started to squeak but you hushed when he laughed. It was a very lovely laugh, one that sent a hammer against your heart and a hard blush against your cheeks. You really hoped you were right about his being blind.

“It’s not a problem,” he assured quietly, standing and brushing his pants off languidly. “My tutor will come looking for me if I’m late, however and the last thing I want is for Gai Sensei to trail me around making sure I don’t walk into walls.

It was your turn to snicker. Oh yes. You knew Gai Sensei well. He was loud, rambunctious, and always doing strange things like challenging students and teachers to physical activities. You’d been told he was a specialty tutor (basically the Academy’s politically correct phrase for an aide or disability assistant) but the last thing you’d expected was for him to be someone’s eyes. He was… Flamboyant. “I uh, I see why you wouldn’t want him barging in while you’re playing,” you chortled as you softly stepped to the side of the door. “Maybe we can, I dunno, meet up here tomorrow evening?” It was reaching, but…

“I would like that.” The answer made your stomach squirm in the best way. You both said your goodbyes just afterwards, you with that little buzz of having found a new friend. As Neji reached the door, you both cringed at the loud shout coming from down the hallway. Seems like Gai was getting impatient after all. Neji himself waved shortly over his shoulder, smiling cheekily as he added, “I’ll see you around.” You couldn’t help but laugh. This was looking to be a good start to a wonderful friendship.

[kl4us4]

SHAPE OF YOU (Bellamy Blake x Reader)

Request: Hi!! Could you write a Bellamy x Reader imagine based on Ed Sheeran’s song ‘shape of you’? It can be smut or whatever you feel like writing. I frankly don’t know why but every time I hear this song, he pops up in my head. I would loooove if you’d put your amazing imagination into this:). Thank you♥️x

  masterlist 

The music coming from the speakers fills the smoky air of MacLaren’s pub and Bellamy listens to it over the sounds of his friends speaking. It entices him, the sounds of the melodic piano tune against the rhythmic beat. He’s drank so much that the song almost makes him fall asleep right there at the booth.

“Hey, sleepyhead!” Finn shakes his shoulders, making him snap up with a lazy smile, “Let’s go!” He laughs. Bellamy’s not sure where they’re going but he stands up and follows anyways.

Turns out they’re going to the bar to get more shots, as if they haven’t already done enough. “Are you trying to be a responsible drinker?” Bellamy asks his little sister, who clinks her shot glass against her boyfriends.

“You haven’t drank enough, you’re practically falling asleep.” Lincoln states, rolling his eyes before he takes the shot and cringes at the burning taste in the back of his throat. 

Octavia holds the glass to her lips, mentally preparing herself before she downs the shot quickly. Looking back up to her brother, she turns to grab another and hands it to Bell. 

“You need to pass the sleep scale, brother.” She states slowly as she pushes the drink up to Bellamy’s mouth, “You’re too tired to let go.”

Rolling his eyes, he closes them before downing the alcohol rapidly. Octavia cheers, laughing loudly as Bellamy grabs another glass. Watching the man from afar, you laugh to yourself. Raven notices and being your best friend, speaks up. “You should go talk to him.”

Looking to her, you give her an unamused look. “Have you met me?”

From beside her, Clarke shakes her head as she sips on her drink loudly. “You totally should, I saw him looking over here a bunch of times.”

You feel your cheeks heat up, feeling embarrassed that your friends even realised you were watching the group of friends. Looking down at your glass, you shake the idea of even trying to talk to him. You’re socially inept and you know it, there’s no point trying.

Raven makes the decision for you, grabbing your hand roughly as she stands. “Jesus, Raven.” You furrow your eyebrows, “I get that you’re stronger than I am but-”

“Hi there.” Raven smiles, standing beside the man you were just checking out, “I’m Raven and this is Y/N.” 

“Hey.” He nods at Raven before his eyes drift towards you. You wish you could disappear right now. He’s looking right at you, his eyes trailing along your face as he smiles slightly. “I’m Bellamy.”

You smile up at him, hoping you don’t look too awkward. Oh well, there’s no going back now. Hopefully the drinks kick in soon and with it, your confidence. “Hey.”

Raven places a hand on your upper arm, making an excuse before she leaves you and Bellamy together in a corner of the bar. “You were too scared to talk to me, weren’t you?”

“What?” You blurt out loud, hearing what he said but just not knowing how to respond. Of course, it was completely obvious that you were too nervous. 

Bellamy pauses for a moment, thinking as he strings along a sentence that sounds smart. "Your friend led you over here because you either refused to come up to me or you were too... afraid. You could’ve just come over to start up and conversation. I would’ve given it a try." He laughs, giving off a laidback vibe. 

 You look at him with furrowed eyebrows, feeling the buzz of alcohol through your system. "Wow. That is an extremely large claim to make." You feign being offended. 

 He smirks at you, leaning forward slightly to speak. "But it's true, isn't it?" 

 "Oh, completely true, I'm a coward." You shrug, hoping he laughs at your joke. 

His lips turn up in a smile and he lets out a small chuckle - good enough. He smiles down at you, making your heart ache with how good he looks. Similarly, Bellamy admires the way you look too, his eyes trailing over your neck and body. "Would you like to start over?" He wonders, leaning an elbow on the bench as he takes a seat. 

 You nod rapidly as you laugh, "Yes, please." 

 With a nod, Bellamy faces the bar as he sits on the stool. Taking a few steps away, you take a breath before approaching him. Tapping his shoulder twice, you hold back a laugh when you realise how stupid you must look to both your friend groups whose eyes keep darting over. 

 Bellamy turns around, his eyes slightly wide as if he wasn't expecting you to approach him. "Hey, I seem to have lost my number. Can I have yours?" 

 His eyes dart to yours and he looks disappointed. "Really?" He wonders, watching you as you hide a laugh.

 "Come on, it's a classic now give me your number." You tease, sitting down next to him as he laughs. 

 Watching you, Bellamy sees something he hasn't ever seen in a girl before. He sees a future. Not specifically a relationship but definitely something that could turn into that. "I'll show you how it's done." He smirks, looking in the other direction for a split second before turning to you with a smug look. "You look familiar... did I have a class with you? I could've sworn we had-" 

 "-Chemistry." You finish his sentence as you watch him closely, "You really think that's better?" 

 "Alright, alright." He laughs, running a hand through his hair as he takes a breathe. "I'll actually try, just stay right there." 

 "Alright. Do you best." You tell him, facing the bar but before he walks off he speaks up. 

 "If it's good, which it will be, you have to do one thing for me." He challenges, making you narrow your eyes at his cocky demeanour. 

 "What is it?"

 "You have to dance with me." He bargains, looking at you expectantly. All it takes is for you to nod before he smirks and walks off. Something tells you that he has the upper hand somehow. In what feels like 20 seconds, Bellamy then comes back to scare you. His mouth is close to your neck from behind, lips brushing against your ear. "I was feeling off all day but you definitely turned me on." He whispers, one hand running to your hip as the bar begins to get crowded. Turning to him, your eyes immediately connect with his close lips before you look up into his brown eyes. A smile grows on his lips and the man smirks at you cheekily, "What's your name, gorgeous?" 

 "Y/N." You reply, slightly stunned at the way he’s looking at you. It seems so intense. 

 "Well, Y/N." Bellamy states, taking your hand in his as he leads you away from your seat, "I believe you have to dance with me now." 

[fernwehbookworm]

Woke The F*ck Up- Chapter 16

March 2nd, 2018

“What’s with the piano?” Kara asks as she sits down on the couch.

“Lena requested it for this session.” Dr. Hamilton said. Lena was already curled up in the chair and looking sheepish.

“It's for later, maybe.”

“Okay.” Kara shrugs and settles into the couch.

“So…” Lena says.

“Look this is all very awkward to start. But Lena, I am done avoiding the truth or making excuses. I know I was wrong by not telling you. I also know I am still pretty hurt by what happened with Veronica. I miss you. I miss us. If you want to be just friends, that's fine. But then we have to be real friends, not like the ex’s that say they will be friends and never talk except if they happen to be in the same room. I want you in my life.”

A small smile graces Lena’s lips and she seems to unfold a little. With a deep breath, Lena sets both feet on the ground and Leans forward.

“I’m glad to hear that. You know I’ve never been good with words, well talking. That’s what my music is for.” Lena stands and heads to the small upright that had been wheeled into the therapist's office.

Kara takes in a sharp breath. She had managed to avoid Lena’s music since the break-up. She had avoided her favorite voice. Kara still wakes up half expecting to be in a hotel room somewhere, Lena strumming a guitar softly across the room, a pen clenched between teeth and her notebook perched precariously on a knee. Kara loved waking up to that. She captured it over and over again in different sketchbooks. Lena starts to play.

Give me a second light I haven't smiled since yesterday

If I need to I can pay, but lemme hold this till I feel ok

Since you burned me at the stake, all of my feelings went away

There's no feelings in my way, at least there's no feelings in my way

I was there when you were blind to everything that I could see I'll pretend that it's just me, but maybe really it's just me I forgot what it was like, to think I found you finally What if you were the one for me? I hope you weren't the one for me

And I know this I can't read it right, between the fights I still need you And I know this I fell for your eyes, I just realized I still need you I still need you

Give me 'til twenty-three, I need another year for this Trying to teach my common sense to not waiver with my confidence Traded my soul to free my mind, car mix to help me pass the time Can I go back to being blind Asked myself why one too many times

And I know this I can't read it right, between the fights I still need you And I know this I fell for your eyes, I just realized I still need you I still need you

I tried to say thank you, but I don't know if you heard me I know it wasn't your plan, to just be the one to hurt me My thoughts versus my feelings, my thoughts on you hit the ceiling But my feelings aren't a real thing If I feel things I don't really discern

And I know this I can't read it right, between the fights I still need you And I know this I fell for your eyes, I just realized I still need you

And I know this I can't read it right, between the fights I still need you And I know this I fell for your eyes, I just realized I still need you

Kara feels her eyes prick with tears as she listens to the words and the emotions behind them. As the notes draw to a close, Lena stills and takes a deep breath, she turns back to Kara.

“I started that song a while ago but I wasn’t able to finish it until after our last session. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I feel the same. I want to work things out between us, despite everything, or maybe because of it. I don’t know. I don’t know if I need you like I used to feel I did. But I want you in my life. So, I hope we can work through this, together.”

Kara grins in a way that Lena had missed so much. Lena smiles back and she feels the connection again she used to share with the beautiful blonde.

“Wonderful. Now I have a few exercises I want you two to do to build trust. I want this to be a slow process. No romantic interactions. This is about building a friendship that will carry you through a romantic relationship if you choose to move past it. Are you two ready?”

Both women nod and turn back to the doctor to listen to what they need to do.

**

March 5th, 2018

Lena laid curled in her hotel bed after another session. It was long and emotionally draining. She was trying to focus on her book but her thoughts were scattered. She knew the therapy was helping, but being in close proximity to Kara for two hours kept sending her emotions on a roller coaster. She would have this hate curling in her stomach remembering the lies but then the guilt in her reaction to the lies. Then Kara would look at her with those blue eyes and Lena would forget everything and just want to lean in and kiss her. With an exasperated sigh she throws her book down beside her and picks up the room phone with the intention of ordering a scotch. Instead, there's a knock on the door. Lena gets up and peeps through the hole. With a small squeal, she opens the door in a hurry, only to be almost tackled by a growing preteen with a hug.

“Sam! Ruby! What are you doing here?” Lena exclaims.

“What are we doing here? Lena, you were kidnapped by a terrorist organization. Of course, we came.”

Lena pulls Sam into the hug with Ruby before bringing them into the room. They sit in the living area, Sam and Ruby squish Lena between the two of them on the couch as Lena tells them what happened. She even tells them about trying to work things out with Kara. She leaves out the vigilante part and side steps Sams’ questions about Kara’s reasons for missing flights.

“Is this what you want then? To stay here, with her?” Sam asks. Ruby had enough of the group cuddle and had gone down to the hotel’s entertainment room with Lena’s key card that gave her free access to the arcade games.

“I don’t know. I know I don’t want to leave you and Ruby. You are my family. But also, Sam, I love her. I know that despite everything I am deeply in love with her and I don’t think I can let her out of my life again.”

“So are you two getting back together?”

“No. Not yet at least. Dr. Hamilton has us working on building a friendship first. Trust building exercises, bonding sessions, a bunch of cheesy stuff that makes me want to cringe but does help.”

“So how do you plan on being real friends with Kara if all your interactions are in a therapist office?”

“Well, Kara invited me to join her and her friends for game night tonight.” Lena bites her lip nervously and doesn't look at her friend. This meeting was one of the few things that had her mind scattered all day. Kara had asked her to come right after the meeting. Lena was trying not to call Kara and cancel. Sam studies Lena with that ever knowing look that seems to always know what Lena is really thinking.

“Okay. I’m going with you.” Lena’s head snaps up at Sam’s statement.

“What? Sam, no. You don’t have to do that.”

“I wasn’t offering. I am going. It’s time I meet this woman who significantly altered your life and caused me to have to start driving ruby to Karate classes.”

“What about Ruby?”

“I lock her in a luxurious hotel room with room service and a bodyguard on the door. She’ll be fine.” Sam shrugs off her friend's worries.

“I love you, you know.”

“I know, I’m the best.”

Lena rolls her eyes and hugs Sam close before texting Kara that she had a friend coming with her.

“Alex, Dr. Hamilton says we have to spend time together outside the office. We are supposed to be working on being friends. So please, just drop it.”

“I just don’t understand why that means she has to come to game night. Or why you have to be friends. You could have just walked away from this. Why are we doing this all over again?”

Kara sets down the bowl of popcorn on the counter a little too hard. She sighs in exasperation feeling the fight with her sister just bubbling under the surface.

“We aren’t doing it all over again. Lena and I have been working through our issues. We have been building trust and that requires friendship. Game night is where my friends come to bond and gain trust with each other.”

“Won't she feel a little, I don't know, singled out? I mean no one here is her biggest fan at the moment.”

“She texted me. She apparently has a friend coming with her.” Alex pauses in surprise as she gets out chips for the growing buffet of snacks.

“I thought she didn't have friends, no offense.”

“Well, apparently she and her new producer hit it off. They became friends and Lena is now living with her and her daughter. I'm guessing they came to make sure Lena was okay after the kidnapping.” Kara shrugs as she continues to place drinks and cups out.

“Well, this should be interesting,” Alex mutters, she runs her hand through her hair as she pulls a beer from the fridge and pops the top as someone knocks on the door. Alex was still getting used to her new haircut. She nearly cut it all off after her break up with Maggie, shaving one side while leaving the other long. Kara liked it on her but Alex was still a little self-conscious about it.

It's Winn at the door carrying a stack of games. James follows a few minutes later with an equally tall stack of pizzas. They are laughing and talking by the time the next knock comes. Instantly Kara feels nervous and her palms feel clammy. The others knew Lena was coming and the only one not unhappy was Winn, who Kara was convinced couldn't dislike anyone. Kara stands slowly and feels a little shaky going to open the door. She opens it and immediately finds those green eyes, tight with worry just like she knows hers are. But just as fast as Kara registers it, Lena relaxes.

“Hey,” Kara says softly.

“Hi,” Lena replies; after a few heartbeats there is throat being cleared next to them. Both women startle and Lena seems to find herself first.

“Right. Kara this is Sam. Sam, Kara.” Lena gestures between the two.

“Hi, I'm so glad to finally meet you, Sam.”

“Well we did have plans to meet sooner, but that didn't quite work out.” Sam holds her hand out to a scarlet Kara to shake while pointedly ignoring Lena's glare.  Kara laughs nervously.

“Right. Well, I'm glad you found Alex's apartment. I'm kind of in between places at the moment so she has graciously stepped up to host.”

Sam raises an eyebrow at Lena before stepping through the door. Lena shakes her head and follows close behind as Kara shuts it. Kara hurries past the two women to introduce them to everyone else.

“Everyone, you remember Lena, and this is her friend Sam. Sam, this is James, Winn, and my sister, Alex.” Kara points to each in turn. Sam nods to all of them with a soft ‘Hi.’ Her eyes linger on Alex before taking a seat opposite the couch on the chairs pulled over from the dining table. Lena sits next to her while Kara pours Lena some of her favorite scotch that she did not buy on purpose but just happened to be one of Alex’s favorite also so Kara just happened to give it to Alex yesterday.

“Sam, would you like something to drink?” Kara offers as she hands Lena the glass.

“Red if you have it. If not the scotch is fine.”

“Red coming up,” Kara says, wanting to impress Lena’s best friend who Kara had discovered through their therapy sessions had become a very important person in her life. After an awkward silence as Kara opens the wine bottle, Winn blessedly pipes up.

“All right, game time. Board game? Card game? We have Settlers of Catan, or Cards Against Humanity, maybe Phase 10, or we could go Charades or Fishbowl.” Alex and James exchange glances at Winn’s rambling. Sam and Lena do the same.

“Okay the only ones I know there are Charades and Phase 10, thank you, Ruby.” Lena says and Sam laughs. Winn pulls out the Phase 10 cards and begins to shuffle.

“Who is Ruby?” James asks.

“My daughter. She loves games, or she did. She has hit the teenage angst a little early so wanting to hang out with her mom and Aunt Lena comes and goes.”

“Aunt?” Alex raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah, it’s easier than ‘My moms famous best friend who lives with us and sometimes drives me to different school functions.’ But it was all Ruby’s idea. Honestly, how could I say no when she asked?” Lena says, a soft smile on her lips as she fondly thinks of the ten-year-old. Kara makes her way back to the group and hands Sam the glass before sitting next to her sister.

“Where is Ruby? I assume you didn’t leave her in London.” Kara asks.

“She is locked in a hotel room with access to room service and cable. She’s fine.” Sam waves her off.

“No father?” Alex asks as Winn starts dealing the cards.

“No. It’s always just been Ruby and I. Now Lena.” Sam says. She picks up her hand and begins sorting through the cards.

Idle chatter continues through the game. Mostly about jobs and hobbies. Kara was telling Sam and Lena about her gym. It was going very well, Kara had recently hired on three more trainers to handle the larger numbers of members. All in all it was going pretty well in Kara’s opinion, despite a few harsh looks off Sam but Kara saw Alex do the same to Lena. A break comes as the finish the game, Sam winning, and the guys go to grab more food and Alex and Sam go to get more to drink. Kara meets Lena’s eyes across the coffee table.

“Thank you for coming,” Kara says.

“I’m glad I did. I almost canceled.” Lena says softly, playing with her drink glass.

“Well, I think it’s going well. I like Sam. I’m glad she came.”

“She surprised me. That’s for sure. But I guess I should have known she would get here as soon as she could. Sam has been there for me since we met. Then she was adamant in coming here tonight. She doesn't like... this. ” Lena gestures between the two of them.

“So you didn’t tell her?” Kara asks, trying to keep her voice neutral.

“About your extracurriculars? No. I figured that was your secret to tell.” Kara smiles at Lena.

“I appreciate it. But, I don’t want you to have to lie to her. If you want you can tell her.”

Lena opens her mouth to say something but Winn and James come back into the room laughing and munching on pizza. Alex and Sam follow closely behind and the set about picking a new game. The night continues on until Sam decides it's time to leave to make sure Ruby actually goes to bed at a decent hour and Lena leaves with her. The remaining four play one more game of euchre before calling it a night. The guys splitting a cab while Kara collapses on her sister's couch. Alex comes over and kisses her forehead.

“If she makes you happy, then I'll try,” Alex says softly.

“Thank you,” Kara whispers back. Alex spreads a blanket over her sleepy sister before making her way to her own bed.

**

March 7th, 2018

Lena knocks on Sam's door and waits to be let in. Ruby opens the door, dispenses a quick hug before brushing past, on her way to the pool Lena assumes from the town tucked under her arm. Lena kicks off her shoes just inside the door and drops her jacket a few steps later. She drags herself to the bed where Sam is propped against the headboard reading. Lena crawls up next to her, wrapping an arm around Sam's slim waist and pulling herself close. Sam's hand immediately runs her fingers through Lena's hair. She finishes her page before putting the book down.

“Hey, pretty lady. What's wrong?”

“Just therapy. I didn't realize how hard it would be. I mean I knew it would be hard but it's just so emotionally draining.” Lena buries her face in her friend's side.

“You know, you don't have to do this. We could just go home.” Sam continues to stroke Lena's hair.

“But I think I do. It's just so hard getting over that anger that I held on to for so long. And Kara is still hurt by my own actions. But I really think we are making progress.”

“Did she ever tell you why? I mean, what could keep her from missing all those free flights to see her girlfriend?”

“Yes. She told me.” Lena worries her bottom lip. Kara said Lena could tell Sam but it still felt a little wrong.

“And?” Sam asks, hand pausing its soothing touch.

“And… well, I guess I don't know how to tell you.” Lena sits up next to Sam as she searches for the words. Sam just looks at her and waits in a way only a mom could.

“Kara was… is, doing something kind of illegal. Not that it's bad. It's just something that if you knew would make you liable and I just don't know if I want that for you.”

“Lena. If Kara is going to be in your life, then she's in Ruby's and I need to know.”

“Right. Well…” Lena tries to swallow but her mouth is suddenly dry.

“Kara is Power Girl.”

Confusion washes over Sam's features as she tries to process the words.

“I'm sorry. What? Did you just say that that sweet woman who loves to play board games with her friends goes around beating up criminals and avoiding arrest.”

“And her friends help her with it.”

“So every cancellation was because…”

“Of my mother. Kara has been trying to stop Cadmus since before we met. Before she even knew the name of the terrorist group. And that last cancellation, remember how I told you she showed up, arm in a sling, face black and blue? That was when she figured out my mother was heading the organization and tried to stop her, but she was beaten so badly she fell unconscious for several days. That was when my mother's actions were leaked to Clark Kent and my brother was arrested.”

“Wow… and you never suspected?”

“No. She told me that when we were together she wouldn't go out because she wanted to spend as much time with me as possible. Except for one time, before James knew, he was kidnapped. Kara had to rescue him. She came back really early in the morning but she told me James just wanted someone with him on a steak out.”

“But the whole time she was lying. Even after you told her your secret,” Sam states, distaste clear in her voice.

“Yes. Which has been one of our issues in therapy. I think she did it for the right reasons, or at least she thinks she did. I mean, it is illegal. She could go to jail if she is ever caught. They all could.”

“All? Even Alex, the federal agent?”

“From what I understand, Alex knows and so does the branch if government she works for but they won't interfere. And they won't help if they get caught. Kara and Alex have been working together to catch my mother.”

“So it was Kara that saved you from your mother then.”

“Yes.”

“Why did your mother take you? And how.”

“I believe my assistant that took Jess’ place was actually an agent of my mother, sent to spy in me and help my mother kidnap me. But since my brother's arrest, Cadmus no longer has the funding they used to. It has limited Lillian in what she could do. So when I rushed here after the art auction to try and see Kara, she seized the opportunity. My new life insurance would have paid out the ransom to her for my safe release, it was the same one Lex had, so she knew about it. But she also wants to kill Kara for her interference so she was also hoping that my kidnapping would lure Kara into a trap. What my mother didn't know is that Kara isn't alone in wanting to capture her so whatever secret government organization Alex works for also helped. And that's how I found out. I refused to in danger Power Girl by going with her but then Kara told me who she was.”

Sam sits silently for a few minutes, processing all the information Lena spewed out in a rush.

“Was she ever going to tell you?”

“I think so. When my tour ended she said she had something to show me. And she wanted me to meet her mom. And then apparently when she showed up after I broke up with her, she was going to come clean in hopes I would understand, but then she caught me with Veronica and she left.”

“Why did she leave? I mean you were broken up technically so why didn't she still try to win you back.”

“Her last boyfriend cheated on her. So me sleeping with someone hours after I broke up with her over the phone hit a little too close that. And in that moment she decided she couldn't trust me with that secret since I had 'moved on so fast.’”

“Wow. That's a lot of baggage between the two of you.” Lena laughs a little bitterly.

“Yeah, it is. Hence the therapy. She was already going to one who has signed so many NDA's that I don't think my lawyers could do any better.”

The pair of friends sit silently in the bed for a few minutes, just enjoying each other's company.

“Just be sure of what you want, okay? You will always be a part of this family, but I don't want you coming and going and doing an on again off again relationship. You are big influence in my daughter's life, and that is something you chose, so please, I need you to have your shit figured out for my daughter.” Sam laces her fingers in Lena's.

“Of course, Sam.”

[trevorbailey61]

Paul Heaton & Jacqui Abbot/Billy Bragg

Westonbirt Arboretum, Gloucestershire Friday 15th July 2018

Towards the top of the long steep hill, the road takes a sharp left turn where through a gap in the hedge we can look back at the lowlands we have left behind. The Severn glistens in the summer sun, swelled by the water that has drained into it to leave its mark on the landscape that it has shaped. Alongside it, a mosaic of green fields lie on the flood plain and beyond these rise the hills of the border region, lands that carry the memory of the brutality on which nations are built. Reaching the top, the road slowly descends, we have climbed the escarpment that forms its western edge and are now driving through the Cotswolds, the iconic English landscape of rolling hills formed by the distinctive yellow jurassic limestone on which it is built and chocolate box villages. In the fields, the lush summer grass has been collected into huge bales, wrapped up in green plastic and piled up in the corner and in the distance the needle of a church steeple can be seen against the blue sky. A perfect summers evening, everything should be right with the world: then a sharp reminder that even here, it may not be. As I take in the scene around me, I notice the angular shape of three swifts, the scythe of their wings working independently as they follow the flight of the insects on which they feed. This shouldn’t be unusual, the aerial ballet of swifts and their eerie cries should be familiar in the summer skies but these are the first I have seen this year. Cold weather in April and the loss of suitable nesting sites may have played their part but the main problem is that this pleasant green landscape around us is devoid of insects, inconvenient hindrances that have to be eradicated as the efficiencies of the production line are applied to agriculture. The scene may seem reassuringly familiar but it is one in which it is becoming increasingly hard for the natural world to find a niche. I already tell others about how I used to be able to sit in the back garden and listen to a cuckoo, something that is now only a distant memory. Maybe it wont be long before we all we have are memories of other summer visitors who made their epic journeys from Africa to raise their young amongst us.

Swifts, swallows, house martins: summer visitors more at home in the air than they are on land and all sadly becoming absent from our skies. And with a link so tenuous it is worthy of a cringe, it also takes us to the reason why we are making this journey through what is arguably the most green and pleasant part of this green and pleasant land. In the early 80s, a young man who liked to refer to himself as P D Heaton was dividing his time between writing songs and making a round trip of over 700miles from his home in Surrey every other weekend to watch Sheffield United. Relocating to Hull, he felt his work needed an audience and with a friend, Stan Cullimore, he began to busk around the shopping centres of the city. It may well be there that the first performance “Happy Hour” was greeted with indifference or irritation as shoppers desperately tried to avoid the eye contact that would oblige them to drop a few coins in a hat. The duo also recorded a demo tape, a copy off which, Heaton tells us tonight, they sent to Billy Bragg who, despite a reputation that now sees him introduced as the hardest working man in the business, found time to give it a listen and bring it to the attention of his record label. This interest required a rhythm section to fill out the sound, cue the arrival of the the future Fatboy Slim, and a name, which of course was The Housemartins. Bragg undoubtedly received such tapes by the sack full, most of which would offer little other than rudimentary punk thrashing and sixth form political slogans which meant that the sunny melodies, witty lyrics and Heaton’s clear high pitched voice would have immediately stood out. The lyrics, which cleverly and mostly discretely referenced marxism with a little Christianity thrown in, would have immediately captured Bragg’s interest but just to make sure, they included the song “Flag Day”; a wake up call where the feel good act of charity is used to avoid any real change in a society that can tolerate such high levels of inequality. It is a theme that is still very much on Heaton’s mind when tonight, he asks how many of the crowd will return the next day to see Gary Barlow. Few are but the mention of his name is enough to provoke a rant about his tax affairs and how in a few months time he will be appearing on “Children in Need” encouraging youngsters to empty their pockets to support a hospital that “wouldn’t have to close if he paid his fucking taxes”. 

Like The Smiths, The Housemartins eschewed the styles of the time to produce bright, guitar based pop that that often disguised a serious message. Also like the The Smiths, they were not built to last and after a few singles, a couple of albums and a Christmas number 1, they disbanded, although unlike their Manc contemporaries they apparently remain on good terms. Heaton reflects on these early days during this 90 minute sell out show at Westonbirt Arboretum, in addition to noting the support Bragg gave them as they were getting started, he also reminisces about their first appearance on “Top of the Pops” where, convinced that theirs would only be a temporary stay at the top, they pestered their fellow acts for autographs. A couple of his early songs also find their way into the set, the exhilaration of “Five Get Over Excited” disguises the sinister lyrics, “Feigning concern, a conservative pastime” seems particularly apposite now, as does the flock mentality in “Sheep” in an era fuelled by a growth of rampant nationalism. The songs are mostly left to speak for themselves but Heaton does set the context of “Caravan of Love”, the final encore, explaining how he still remains proud of this acapella version of the Isley’s song and how its message of hope is one that still resonates. The encores also include a wonderfully exuberant run through “Happy Hour”, complete with giant balloons that roadies had to continually bat back into the audience so that the song could continue unhindered. Again the bright pop of the music hides that the song isn’t really about what you think it is about; a brilliant take down of 80s yuppie culture that could equally apply to millennial hipsters; “I think I might be happy if I wasn’t out with them”. 

The Housemartins, for those of us who are of an age to appreciate the context, were important in showing that music could be much more than the programmed beats of Stock, Aitken and Waterman; something that dominated the charts then and the start of using technology to produce formulaic songs cynically built around familiar melodies and hooks. They are not, however, the main reason that so many have made their way to this Forestry Commission gig in rural Gloucestershire. Thanking the audience for their support, Heaton notes that of all the gigs on this forest tour, not only was this the first to sell-out but also that more tickets were released which were also quickly snapped up. This most conservative region of the country may not seem the natural setting for pop that makes little attempt to disguise its left wing inspiration, the car park is in the vast expanse of the grounds to the Westonbirt School hammering home the privilege against which much of the music is set, but comments by Heaton or Bragg on issues around Brexit, Trump, climate change, unions or inequality drew nothing but cheers from the crowd. Heaton does explain how in their gig at Thetford Forest, a fight had broken out between two people who had different views on Brexit, unfortunately, he notes, “the pro guy was ours”, but everyone in Gloucestershire was either on message or if not they kept their opinions to themselves. This popularity, even amongst those who do not share his politics, is because he would soon eclipse his early achievements by forming The Beautiful South from the remnants of The Housemartins. Still built around his distinctive voice and showing the same social and political context, the sound was, however, very different. The lyrics became more nuanced, often delivered in bittersweet tales that, despite being laced with irony, still managed to sound wistfully romantic. We cared about the subjects of these songs because their stories were told so clearly and the bright catchy melodies and beautifully inventive arrangements set them off perfectly. It proved to be hugely successful, their compilation “Carry On Up The Charts” gave him another Christmas Number 1 and they were soon to be found on the arena circuit. It is what has given those gathered here tonight a chance to relive their youth and half the set is made up of songs from the South.

“I’ll Sail This Ship Alone” is a reminder of just how well the songs can place themselves in the mind and how now they can stir such warm memories. Built around a mournful piano accompaniment, it is essentially a break up song where the hurt is carried through the sublime melody. Yet there is also defiance, this is not the end of the world, they will survive, they can be alone. The clarity and pitch of Heaton’s voice adds the melancholy that this gives the song its heart and, despite its size, the audience are quiet and appreciative allowing the words to drift out into the clear evening sky. The set is filled with many equally poignant moments, “One Last Love Song”, “Old Red Eyes in Back” and “Song for Whoever” all leave their emotional mark and even more upbeat songs such as “Good as Gold (Stupid as Mud)” and “You Keep It All In” carry an underlying sadness. The contribution of Irish singer, Briana Corrigan, to the South’s earliest songs persuaded them to promote her to a full band member, thus providing a female lead in the domestic dramas they were playing out. When she left in 1994, partly as a result of some of Heaton’s less than sensitive lyrics, she was replaced with a supermarket stacker from St Helens called Jacqui Abbott, thus starting a partnership that is still going strong tonight. Abbott covers Corrigan’s vocals well on “A Little Time” and “You Keep It All In” but her voice, fuller and with a more resonant lower range than Corrigan’s, gives the songs a slightly different feel. Despite suffering from a bad back, her movement is severely restricted throughout and she has to sit during the middle of the set, she is still wonderful on the two songs she originated, “Rotterdam” and the delightfully naughty “Don’t Marry Her”, Heaton checks before she sings this whether we are alright with the “explicit version”. 

With Abbott leaving the band in 2000, The Beautiful South continued for a few more years producing two more albums that showed that Heaton could still craft catchy and quirky songs, of which “Manchester”, a sodden tribute to his adopted home, is performed tonight. A conversation on Facebook, however, brought him back in touch with Abbott and a collaboration that is now into its fifth year and has produced three albums. Starting with “I Don’t See Them”, they play with the introduction allowing Heaton to act as the preacher building up the responses from the crowd. The band are quickly into their stride, tight and precise, the song driven along by the thumping beats that give the rhythm. The humour of “DIY” is fun, gently mocking men of a certain age who spend their weekends at B&Q, providing a companion to Billy Bragg’s “Handyman Blues” that he had performed earlier. Their most recent album, “Crooked Calypso” showed that Heaton retains the ability to write droll pithy lyrics that cover obesity, “Fat Man”, race and religion, “The Lord is a White Con” and inequality, “People Like Us”. Its not all about social injustice, however, with “I Gotta Praise” being a heart wrenching love song worthy of the South. They even managed to introduce a new song, a reflection on the music of artists such as Marvin Gaye that helped the young Heaton to form his own musical ideas. 

With so many gathered, the potential threat means that even in a remote location, there is still a high level of security to enter the site. This means that many are still queuing outside when Billy Bragg takes to the stage but the show must go on. Rather than a support act, he is probably more of a joint headline and a large group of fans have collected around the stage to give him an enthusiastic reception. Occasionally accompanied by the atmospheric slide provided by CJ Hillman, he is on fiery form, channelling his anger into songs that tackle environmental issues, “King Tide and The Sunny Day Flood”, immigration “Why We Build the Wall”, workers rights, “There is Power in a Union” and a state of the nation updating of Dylan’s “The Times They Are a Changing”. In between, he continues his role as the curator of Woody Guthrie’s legacy with interpretations of “I Ain’t Got No Home” and “She Came Along to Me” and there are plenty of favourites, “Levi Stubbs Tears”, “The Milkman of Human Kindness” and, of course, “A New England” complete with the Kirsty McColl verse. Introducing him at Latitude a few years ago, the announcer said that no festival is complete without Billy Bragg being on the bill and it is difficult to think of a park or field he hasn’t at some time played. Then he seemed a little restrained, toning down the politics and mainly focusing his songs that dealt with relationships. It would be nice to say that seeing him return to his impassioned best was something to treasure were it not for that the circumstances that have fuelled his anger are so desperate. 

There are many so many reasons to treasure a show as good as this, the inventive songs, the exquisite playing, the humour and the engaging personalities of the performers, but another is that it is difficult to think of younger performers who in future will, through their music, provide a commentary for the times in which we live. The other Forestry commission gigs this year include Gary Barlow, Paloma Faith and George Ezra who whilst they mostly make perfectly pleasant music, show little inclination to ask questions about the nature of the society in which we live; aside, of course, from Barlow’s tax status. Then, it is difficult to think of a young Bragg or Heaton being able to make their way in the music business today which seems to be ever more built around safety and predictability. There are no doubt those who try but to take their message beyond a dedicated few, they need the support that they are unlikely to get. Thus, as he has been doing for years, it is left to artists such as Billy Bragg to highlight to injustices heaped on the Windrush generation or the children taken from their parents at the US border. Music and the arts are central to our culture, both reflecting and shaping the world in which we live and in its way this tradition is as English as the Cotswold setting. And that is why we should be grateful that those we have seen tonight continue, as Heaton puts it, to be a thorn in the side of the Tories. Long may it continue.