#left is more casual look and right is her stage outfit

[pinayelf]

My @infamous-if mc, Violetta "Vi" Marasigan, the lead singer of Nighthorn

She’s here to follow her dreams, sing her heart out and maybe make self destructive decisions

[cocobeanncteez]

Song Series One-shot: Choi San — Into You

Genre: SMUT (MDNI / 18+), fluff, idol au, fwb to lovers au

Pairing: ateez San x idol!reader (fem)

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings/content: heavy making out, dry humping, breast play, oral sex (f receiving) / cunnilingus, clit play, fingering, hand job, cum eating (f), vaginal penetration, protected sex (pill), multiple orgasms, aftercare, pet names (sweetheart, baby, good girl, pretty girl), praising, sorry if I missed anything!

Disclaimer: Please note that my Song Series One-shots are purely based on how I personally interpret the lyrics of the songs I chose for this series. It is not based on the music video (if it has one).

Song Inspiration: Into You by Ariana Grande

You watched the stage lights dim, casting a soft glow over the bustling, cheering crowd, various colored lightsticks twinkling like little stars. Your group stepped into the backstage area, and a familiar rush of adrenaline coursed through you while a staff member helped you take your in-ear monitors off.

Tonight’s performance at a major music festival had been electric, your voice carrying through the venue like a siren’s call. Your group had been practicing very hard for this festival, and your body was begging for some well-deserved rest and some food.

But now, amidst the crowd of technicians, staff, and fellow artists backstage, you searched for one person: Choi San.

“Good job out there, Y/N,” your group's leader said and pats you on the shoulder. You offered her a quick smile in return, but your eyes continued scanning the area. She smirked at you and left you alone, knowing exactly who you were searching for.

Then you spot him, leaning against the far wall, his gaze already fixed on you. San’s dark eyes glittered with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. He straightened up, pushing away from the wall. He strides towards you, his eyes scanning you from head to toe, mentally thanking your stylists for putting you in such a great outfit that really highlighted your beautiful features and hugged your body.

“Y/N,” he greets, his voice a low rumble. You bowed to him as he was your senior in this industry, knowing that there are people around that could be observing the two of you very closely. “You were incredible out there," he complimented.

San looked visibly exhausted as Ateez had performed right before your group did. He wanted to lie down and close his eyes, but he would never miss the uncommon opportunity to watch you perform on stage. Despite the tiredness, he still looked like he was going for a magazine photoshoot.

You laughed lightly, though the sound is tinged with nervous excitement from seeing him after weeks. “Thanks, San. You weren’t so bad yourself." Your eyes couldn't help but scan his muscular arms, marveling at how built he was. He seemed to have gained more muscle from the last time you saw him weeks ago.

He smirked, a teasing glint in his eye. “Just not bad, huh?”

“You know what I mean,” you replied, rolling your eyes playfully. “What’s up?”

San’s expression turns serious, his gaze piercing. He looked at his surroundings before shifting his gaze back to you. “Can we talk somewhere private?”

Your heart skips a beat. “Sure, follow me, I know a place.”

It hadn’t always been this way—the two of you lost in each other’s orbit. In fact, the first time you met San was far from the intense, passionate moment you now shared. It was at an after-party of an awards show a year ago, a glitzy affair full of laughter, music, and mingling with fellow idols.

You were standing by the bar, nursing a drink and chatting with some fellow idol friends when you felt a presence beside you. Turning, you found San leaning casually against the counter of a bar, a mischievous smile on his lips.

When the bartender approached him, he gently cleared his throat. "One chocolate martini with extra chocolate liqueur, please," he ordered, and you couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, utterly fascinated by his choice of cocktail.

“Y/N, right?” he asked when he noticed he caught your attention, his voice smooth.

You nodded, intrigued. “And you’re San. Your group's been killing it lately.”

He chuckled, a low, warm sound, and you noticed his cute dimples. “Thanks, that's kind of you to say," he said, "I’ve been meaning to talk to you. I’m a fan of your work.”

You felt a flush of pleasure at his words, and your heart was beating rapidly. “Thank you, and I'm a big fan of your work too," you said, taking a sip of your drink. "So, what brings you here?”

“Just looking to unwind a bit,” he replied, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. “Maybe meet some interesting people.”

The night had flowed effortlessly from there. You found yourselves in deep conversation, talking about everything from music to dreams and fears. There was an undeniable chemistry, a pull that neither of you could ignore.

It was no surprise when, later that night, you ended up in a quiet, secluded corner of the party's venue, lips locked in a fervent kiss. The taste of him, the chocolate you could taste on his lips, the feel of his hands on your skin—it was intoxicating.

That night had been the first of many. Whenever your groups crossed paths, you found yourselves drawn to each other, sneaking away for stolen moments of passion and connection. Each encounter only deepened the bond between you two, making it harder to deny the feelings that had grown.

Presently, you led him to a secluded corner of the venue, away from prying eyes and eager ears, no cameras in sight; this was a place you found when you had a mental breakdown during an awards show and needed a place to cry.

The muffled sounds of the ongoing concert created a bubble of intimacy around you two. San steps closer, his presence overwhelming.

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

You swallow hard, your pulse quickening. “Yeah?”

He nods, his eyes never leaving yours while he stepped even closer to you. “I can barely breathe when you’re around, Y/N. It’s like you’ve got this hold on me, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

Your breath catches in your throat. “San...” He was so close, and you realized that he indeed got bigger since the last time you saw him. The new haircut and dyed navy blue hair made his features look sharper. Half his abs were covered by the black leather crop top he was wearing, and his pants seemed to be hanging a little lower than what you saw on the screen when he was performing before. You wanted to get even closer to him; you wanted to cross the line.

San’s voice broke through your little reverie. “Remember the first time we met?”

You smiled, nodding. “At that party. You were so confident.”

He laughed softly. “I was nervous as hell. But there was something about you, Y/N. I couldn’t stay away.”

“And now we’re here,” you murmured, your hand reaching out to his face, fingers tracing the line of his jaw.

“Yeah,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “And I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

The temperature in the area seemed to rise, the air thick with anticipation. You knew that this was a turning point, a moment that would define whatever came next. And you were ready, ready to take that leap with San.

He takes your hand, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. “I don’t want to play games anymore. I need to know if this is real, if we’re real.”

You squeeze his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. “It feels real to me, San. But it’s dangerous, you know that. With everyone watching us…” One mistake and a scandal could ruin both your careers.

San steps even closer, placing a finger under your chin to tilt your head back, his lips just inches from yours. “A little danger never scared me, Y/N. What scares me is not knowing what we could be.”

Your heart races as his words sink in. The air between you crackles with unspoken desire. “So, what do we do?”

His eyes darken with determination. “We take a chance. No more waiting, no more hiding.”

You nod, your decision made. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

San’s lips curve into a slow, confident smile. “Then come here.”

When you finally pull away at the interruption of the crowd's cheering when another group finished performing, both of you are breathless. San’s forehead rests against yours, his eyes closed in bliss. "Come over tomorrow?" he mumbled.

He pulls you into his arms, the world fading away as your lips meet in a kiss that’s been weeks in the making. The passion between you is undeniable, a fire that’s been waiting to ignite. You lose yourself in the moment, the taste of him, the feel of his body against yours. This was dangerous. This was scandalous.

And oddly, that's how you wanted it.

You didn't catch what he said. "Huh?"

Checking your appearance in your bathroom mirror one last time, you shoved your wallet, keys, and your phone into your bag. You switched your bedroom lights off before you tip-toed to your apartment door.

He moved to place a kiss below your ear. "Come over tomorrow night... my apartment," he whispered. "I'll pick you up."

"Going somewhere, honey?" you heard a familiar voice behind you, and you gasped in shock. "God! Maya, you scared me," you said to your fellow band mate and noticed she seemed to be going somewhere as well. "Where are you going?"

She giggled, "With you, of course." You raised an eyebrow. "I wanted to see Seonghwa, so he's coming with San to get us," she elaborates and you smirk at her. "Anyway, lets go, Y/N, they're here."

The two of you put your face masks and hats on before making your way downstairs to the parking lot.

"So you and Seonghwa... since when?" you ask and she blushes.

"Right before their Europe tour," you says and your eyes widened.

"That's like, what, five months now?"

She nodded. "We're keeping it secret. You and San are the only ones that know now."

The familiar black car came into view and you and Maya quickly got into the backseat. You greet both the boys and notice how Seonghwa's eyes sparkled when he saw Maya. You were genuinely surprised they managed to keep this a secret.

San began driving, and thankfully there was barely any traffic on the road, so you reached earlier than expected. The security system in this apartment complex was incredible, so you felt at ease.

The four of you made small conversation in the elevator when you reached, and as soon as you entered San's apartment, he was pulling you away to his room.

"There's cake in the fridge, Y/N," Seonghwa called out behind you. You yell out a quick thanks before San shut his bedroom door and pinned you against the door. He took your mask and hat off, tossing it aside on the little table by the door, his own mask following.

San placed his arms on the door on either side of you, trapping you in between his arms. "Hi," he says, dimples showing, causing butterflies to flutter in your stomach. God, you're so into him.

You chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck. "You're so cute, Sannie," you say, pecking his lips. He giggles in response, returning a peck on your lips.

"What do you wanna do?" he asks, dragging you further in his room and making you sit down on his bed. San's room wasn't unfamiliar to you, having been here at least ten times already. You always loved how clean and tidy his room was, and how it was laced with his scent.

"Hmm, anything you want," you reply.

"How about a movie? Sounds good?" You nodded and San moved to get under the sheets, pulling you into his arms, putting the blanket over you both. He reached for the TV remote on his bedside table with one arm, while the other was still around you. You watched his arms flex, and you thanked god that he was wearing a tank top right now.

While he scrolled through the list of movies, you were stroking his arm, marveling at the bigger muscles. His bicep looked so juicy, you couldn't help the thought of wanting to bite it.

And your impulsive thoughts won.

Realizing what you did, you slowly turned to look at San who had an eyebrow raised at your actions. Before you could explain yourself, he moved to hover on top of you, capturing your lips with his own, kissing you hard. You arch your legs and pull him closer to you by his back so that he was now in between your legs, his chest pressed against yours. You moan softly when you felt his boner rub against your clothed clit.

The temperature seemed to be rising the more you kissed, and San pulled away to catch his breath— except, his way of catching his breath was trailing kisses from your lips to your neck.

"Look what you started," he whispered against your neck, placing open mouthed kisses, being very careful to not leave marks on your skin despite how desperately he wanted to.

He pulled away to look at you. "I was waiting for you to make the first move before I did," you say, your tongue poking out slightly to wet your lips, catching San's attention.

You moved your hands down the sides of his body, stopping at the waistband of his sweatpants. You slip a finger inside to hook it under the band of his underwear, pulling it away from his skin and then letting it go so that it slapped against his skin.

"Y/N," he starts, but you push him by the shoulder so his back was against the bed, and you straddle his lap. Your fingers grasp the ends of your t-shirt before you lift it up and over your head, tossing it to the floor. Your chest was covered by a lacey bra, and San could see the color of your nipples through it. You leaned down to kiss him, hungrier and hotter. His hands explored the exposed skin of your back while you slowly grinded on his hard cock, earning a low moan from him.

San sucked in a breath at your bold actions. He wanted you. He wanted you so bad. He's held himself back so much. The two of you still haven't crossed the line, keeping it strictly to making out.

And you wanted to change that. You wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

San's hand hovered over the hook of your bra, and he pulled away from the kiss to look at you. "Can I?" he asks and you instantly nod, letting him unhook your bra and toss it aside.

"God, you're so pretty," he says, leaning forward to place a kiss in the valley of your chest, and goosebumps erupted on your skin.

San trailed open mouthed kisses to your nipple, taking it in his mouth, tongue darting out to flick the bud, while one of his hands cupped your other boob, massaging it gently.

"San..." you moaned, hands moving to play with his hair while he repeated his actions on your other boob.

You rolled your hips back and forth on his hard cock and he pulled away to look at you with hooded eyes. "Y/N... baby, you're driving me crazy," he mumbles, his hands moving to the waistband of your sweatpants. "Tell me what you want, sweetheart."

"San, I want you," you moan when his hands at your waist press you down on him. "Fuck, I just... I need you right now, San. I want you to fuck me, fill me up with your cock." You wanted a little less conversation and a little more of him touching your body.

San flipped you onto your back and hovered over your body. "Are you sure, baby?" he asks and you hum in response. "Use your words, sweetheart."

"Yes, Sannie, please..." you beg and that was all it took for San to take your sweatpants off along with your panties, shedding his own clothes right after.

And god was naked San truly a marvelous sight. Your hands glided up his arms to his shoulders, before dipping down to his chest and then his hard abs. You maintained eye contact when your hand wrapped around his hard length, slowly pumping his cock.

Only for him to swiftly lay in between your legs, taking your clit in his mouth, his fingers still maintaining the same pumping pace. "What a pretty pussy," he compliments, sucking on your clit, "And it's all mine."

San sucked in a breath while his own hand moved to cup your pussy, his finger swiping along your slit to collect the wetness there, rubbing it on your clit for some lubrication. He leaned down to capture your lips with kiss while his finger moved on your clit in circular motions, your toes curling in the process.

After working on your clit, he finally slipped a finger inside your dripping hole, and you moaned at the stretch. He pumped his fingers to match the pace you kept while pumping his cock, and a second finger joined the first. The stretch made your hips buck up while you moaned, and you were starting to lose your senses. Your walls were practically sucking his fingers, and San pulled away from kissing you.

"San, fuck, please don't stop!" you moaned loudly, your thighs squeezed his head while he lapped at your clit, his wet tongue pressing harder on you. He hummed, the vibration giving you an extra push towards your building orgasm. You were so close to coming, and he seemed to notice that. His hand and tongue worked faster on you, and seconds later, you were releasing all over his fingers. He lapped at your throbbing clit once more before pulling his fingers out, sucking them clean, eyes closing at your sweet taste.

"Are you ready for me, sweetheart?" He asks, lining himself up with your wet entrance.

"W-wait San, let me..." you reached for his cock to return the favor, but he stopped you.

"No, baby, that's okay," he says softly with a smile. "I'll cum too quickly otherwise, and I'd rather cum in you. Is that okay, pretty girl?"

"Yes, Sannie..." He pumps his cock one more time before sliding his tip into your warm hole, sucking in a breath through his teeth.

"Fuck, Y/N, I'm not even fully in and you're already so fucking tight," he moans, slowing pushing himself fully in, finally crossing the line.

His cock stretched you out so well, and your eyes closed shut, your body feeling like it was on fire. You were clenching around his length, and San swore he was going to bust right then and there. He leaned down to kiss you softly. "I'm going to start moving, okay?" he whispered against your lips. Once you hum in approval, San goes back to kissing you while rolling his hips, pushing in and out of you in a steady, slow pace, wanting to take his time to familiarize the way you felt around his cock.

But you were growing slightly impatient. You pulled away from kissing him. "Sannie, baby, please... faster please..." you moan, and he chuckles in response. "Please, Sannie."

"So impatient," he murmurs and he goes even slower to tease you, making you whine.

And then he pushes hard into you, knocking the air out of your lungs before thrusting into you faster like you asked.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you cried out, clawing at the sheets beneath you. San's hands gripped the black headboard of his bed, his arm muscles tightly flexing. "God, it- it feels so good, fuck."

You feel the coil of pleasure get tighter in your stomach, and you could tell San was close too. "You're taking my cock so well, fuck, Y/N, you're so pretty," he says, and wets his thumb in his mouth before reaching down to rub your clit, all while maintaining his pace, and you felt your pussy spasm.

"Are you close baby?" he grunts, "You gonna cum all over this dick? Hmm?"

You tried to respond to him, but your words were all jumbled and incoherent. San rubbed faster on your clit, and the coil in your stomach finally snapped. Your orgasm hits you in waves, your body shaking beneath him.

"Such a good girl for me," he cooed, chasing his own high. "Hold on, sweetheart, I'm a-almost... almost there," San says, thrusting even faster before he groans, his cock pulsing, indicating that he came, his cum painting your walls white. He thrusts two more times to milk himself dry, before collapsing onto you, being careful to not put all his weight on you.

You stroke his back and he kisses your collarbone before pulling out and lying down beside you. The room was filled with the sound of both you breathing heavily, heartbeats moving at a rapid pace.

San got off the bed to get some wet wipes before he wiped your dripping pussy, and you whined when the tissue touched your sensitive clit.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" San asks, a hint of concern in his voice.

"Hmm, sensitive," you mumble. "Can't feel my legs." He chuckles and leans down to kiss your head before disposing the wipes in his bathroom.

You got off the bed to head to the bathroom to pee and clean up a little more. While you were washing your hands, San wrapped his arms around you, turning you around to face him when you were done drying your hands on the hand towel. He gently pressed you against the sink, leaning in to kiss you oh so gently.

"I love you," you say against his lips. "I want to be with you, San."

"I love you too," he says, his heart swelling with happiness to finally hear the words he's been longing to hear. "I know you're scared, Y/N, and honestly I am too. This is dangerous and scandalous in our lives... but I love you a lot," he reaches out to cup your cheek, stroking your skin with the pad of his thumb. "We're humans before we're idols. We deserve to fall in love too. There's nothing I want more than to be your boyfriend, Y/N."

Tears well up in your eyes and you nod at his words. "I'd like that," you whisper, pulling him into a tight hug. San held you for a bit, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

"How about we shower, and then I'll make you some ramen?" he suggests, and you instantly agree, not wanting to waste any precious time you have with him.

San smiles widely, his cute dimples popping out while he kisses you all over your face, and you've never felt happier before.

God, you were so into him. 

[ro-is-struggling]

Dark Side of Me || Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: The plan you and your friends had come up with to celebrate your 21st birthday was simple: go to as many bars as you could in one night and stay out of the hospital. You weren't a big fan of it, but everyone had done it and now it was your turn. However, things went off the rails quickly and you ended up being dragged to Heroes, a superhero-themed strip club. You thought it was a bad idea, until you met the cold, piercing blue eyes of the Winter Soldier and simply couldn't look away.

Or the one when reader gets her first lap dance

Warnings: stripper AU, stripper!bucky x innocent!reader, suggestive tones, lap dance (I tried really hard), no actual smut, alcohol consumption, reader giving in to peer pressure, fem reader

English is not my first language

Word count: 4400

Notes: I watched magic mike the other day and apparently I am now obsessed with stripper aus. The movies have a softer side that I wasn't expecting but I loved it and that's the vibe I'm trying to recreate here. If you want to understand some of the dance moves I'm trying to describe here you should watch the movie! I tried really hard with this one (describing dancing is waay harder than I thought so I hope it makes sense)

I’m open to writing more of these two, so let me know if you’d like that and don't hesitate to stop by my asks/messages if you have any ideas!

tagging: @asgards-princess-of-mischief

What had started out as a night of celebrating your 21st birthday quickly went off the rails and turned into something completely different. The plan was to get wasted —legally this time—, visit a couple of bars and get home before you ended up in the hospital. You weren't usually a party and alcohol lover —you just went to have a good time with your friends—, but you recognized that your 21st birthday was an important event that deserved to be celebrated. Besides, your friends had assured you that they would behave themselves and that things would not get out of control -well, not that much at least.

In hindsight, you should have figured that wouldn't happen. Although nothing could have prepared you for ending up at Heroes, a strip club your friends had apparently been to before. You tried to say no at first, but you were a little buzzed and you'd never been good at saying no to your friends anyway, so eventually you agreed. The place was exactly what you imagined and completely different at the same time, if that made sense. Dark, loud and warm, but much nicer than you expected. The dim lights gave it a very intimate feel, highlighting certain spaces with red or purple lights that made it look aesthetically pleasing to the eye. The music played loudly, trying to drown out some of the shouting of the women throwing bills onto the catwalk where the dancers performed their routines, but it wasn't anything you couldn't handle.

From the moment you settled at your table, a sort of strange sisterhood was generated between you and the groups of women seated in your proximity. Similar to bumping into a stranger in the bathroom at a party and reacting as if you were lifelong friends, you quickly engaged in casual conversation with the group of women at a bachelorette party to your right, and the one celebrating a divorce to your left. You complimented each other's outfits, shared a few drinks, and screamed with all your might in unison every time a dancer approached your side of the stage —or made quick eye contact with one of you. It created such a pleasant and fun atmosphere that for a moment you almost forgot where you were.

It stopped being nice and fun though when your friend came up with the idea of paying for a private dance and you had to face the force of a group of women pressuring you to accept. You had made the silly mistake of letting one of your friends know that you really thought the dancer who called himself the Winter Soldier was cute. You hadn't been able to take your eyes off him during his routine. And since that was the most interested you had ever been in any of the dancers, your friend thought it would be a good idea to treat you to a private dance.

“What am I supposed to do locked in a room with him?” You panicked as your friends dragged you to a more private area of the club to wait for your gift.

“I don't know, enjoy, I guess?” She laughed, practically pushing you into the arms of the man waiting to lead you to the Winter Soldier. You wanted to snap at her, but you kept silent, embarrassed by the stranger's presence. The last thing you needed was to make an even bigger fool of yourself by looking like an innocent, prudish fool.

But the problem was just that. You were a silly, innocent, prudish young woman that didn't have the slightest idea of what to do in a situation like that. You could feel the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears, drowning out the screaming and the bass of the music that was getting farther and farther away. Your stomach was turning with nerves as you sat waiting in the chair in the center of the room, just as the man had indicated before disappearing behind the door. Your hands rested awkwardly in your lap, your body immobile as you contemplated your options —perhaps if you remained completely still, he wouldn't be able to see you there, it was dark after all. 

You thought about running away from there. You were alone, the dancer had not yet appeared and the hallway was dark, you would probably be able to sneak out without even your friends noticing. You would send them a text later explaining everything, when you were out and away from their clutches so they couldn't drag you there again. But when you went to get up, you found that your legs didn't respond. Only this time it didn't feel like it was part of the nerves you were having at the thought of what was about to happen. 

You discovered then that a part of you, hidden behind a lot of shame and fear of the unknown, was curious. You wondered what it would feel like to be in a room alone with him, what it would feel like to have him touch you —even in the lightest, most subtle way—, to have him press his body against yours as he had done on stage with a lucky girl in the audience. You'd never experienced anything remotely similar to that, you'd barely shared make-out sessions with your ex-partner that weren't particularly memorable-not in the way the Winter Soldier's dance was for you. You had the movement of his hips burned into your memory, the image of his flexing muscles popping up every time you closed your eyes. You wanted more of him, even if you couldn't bring yourself to admit it. 

The sensual rhythm of the music that suddenly began to play brought you out of your thoughts. You looked up and there he was in all his glory. He was wearing a different outfit, a simple tank top and loose-fitting sweatpants. The tactical suit and mask that covered half his face in his routine had probably been left forgotten in some basket behind the stage, but you didn't mind. You could see more of him now, the real him, and you liked that. It felt more intimate, more genuine.

He could sense the nervousness in your voice when you told him your name. You had trouble maintaining eye contact with him, your eyes lingering for a full three seconds on his figure before returning to your hands. Your fingers fiddled with the hem of your flowy dress. It intrigued him. He had worked with flustered women before —it was more common than one might imagine—, but there was something about you that stood out. You looked so out of place there, with your innocent look and shaky breath. Everything about your body expression told him that you wanted to curl up in a ball and pretend you weren't there. Everything except a slight glint in your eyes that he almost missed as quickly as you looked away from him. It would be his challenge to get that side of you to come out. 

“That's a beautiful name,” he said in a soft voice. You smiled, but your eyes didn't search his, focusing instead on the red light shining on the wall behind him. So he leaned in front of you, settling down to your eye level so you couldn't escape. “I'm Bucky, by the way, and there's no reason to be nervous around me, princess.” 

Your face warmed at that affectionate nickname and a tingle spread through your body. It had been a while since the last time someone had called you that. You liked it, it made you feel special even if it came from a stranger's mouth.

“Why did you come here tonight? You don't seem like the type of woman that frequents these places.”

“I'm not! I'm here because my friends thought it'd be a good idea... a fun way of celebrating my 21st birthday.” 

“Oh well happy birthday then!” Bucky gave you a smile and you thought that was the best present you had received all day. “Are you having a good time?

“Yea-yeah, I am.” Your voice was soft, almost inaudible. Bucky got the impression that you were embarrassed to admit that out loud.

“Are you uncomfortable, y/n? Do you want to leave? Cause I can give you a full refund and let you go right now if that's what you want.”

“No!” you were quick to say, big eyes staring at him for the first time since he had introduced himself to you. “I'm just a bit... scared, I guess. I've never done anything like this before. Actually, I've never done anything for that matter.” 

You didn't know what prompted you to confess to Bucky —a complete stranger who danced and stripped for a living— your complete inexperience in sexual matters, but you couldn't turn back now. You supposed it was to be transparent, though there was no reason for such a thing. It wasn't like you were there to have sex, he was just going to dance on you for a bit and then you'd go back to your normal, boring life. 

“Well, then I have to let you know that you are in full control here.” Bucky spoke in a soft tone full of understanding. His cold, piercing blue eyes softened, showing a warmth that helped calm your nerves a bit. “I do have a routine, but if there's something that I do that you don't like you can just tell me and I'll stop, okay?” You nodded, biting your lip as you felt the tingle of anticipation running through your body. “Good! Are you ready?”

At your nod, Bucky got up from the floor to press play on the music. Suddenly, the silence was filled by a soft, sensual beat similar to others that had echoed through the club throughout the night. He approached you with a slow pace, his eyes never leaving your face, studying your expression. Then he took one of your hands in his and rested it on his chest, still covered by the thin fabric of his white muscle shirt. You couldn't help but notice how much bigger his hands were compared to yours. You could barely see your fingertips as he wrapped his hand around yours, trapping it against his chest. His calloused fingers didn't let go as he slowly guided your hand down, allowing you to caress his chest as he rubbed small circles over your skin. It was such an intimate touch for the situation you were in, that for a moment you forgot he was a stripper who did this for a living.

The air caught in your throat, your heart pounding against your chest as your hand traveled lower and lower. You could feel the firmness of his abs under your fingers and the heat emanating from his skin. It filled you with anticipation, with need. You wanted to feel more of him, more of his body and his touch. More of his warmth and the intoxicating scent of his cologne. But before your hand reached his waist, he pulled it away. Your eyes shot up to his face, waiting patiently for Bucky to give you instructions to proceed.

He removed his shirt and as soon as the fabric touched the floor, his hands were on yours again, trapping them against his chest. Bucky liked the way you let him guide you, closing your eyes as you enjoyed something as simple as the feel of his skin under your fingers. He was used to dealing with more... confident women. They knew what they wanted and weren't afraid to demand it. Their hands were always everywhere, touching his crotch without hesitation every chance they got. But you were different. You didn't know what you wanted —what you were missing— and you were willing to let him show you. He enjoyed the slower pace, it was a nice change that allowed him to try new things. So in a way, you were both experiencing something different there.

Your eyes suddenly widened as you felt the fabric of Bucky's sweatpants brush against your fingers. Your face heated up, embarrassment taking over your expression. But he didn't let your hand slip away, on the contrary, he pushed it a few inches lower and made you cling to the elastic of the pants. He gave you a cheeky smile before he started moving to the rhythm of the music. His hand didn't let go of yours as he positioned himself in your lap, grinding his hips against yours with an experience that shouldn't have surprised you. 

Bucky fixed his eyes on you as he danced, keeping you in a kind of hypnotic trance from which you could not wake up. Your eyes followed his, your body responding to his movements without a single complaint. He trapped you between the chair and his body, one of his hands clinging firmly to the back of the chair while the other traveled to your cheek. You leaned into his touch, enjoying the warm caress of his fingers. His face came so close to yours that you could feel his breath mingling against your quickened breathing, his nose brushing against yours. For a moment you thought he was going to kiss you, so you closed your eyes, letting the euphoric sensation of desire consume you. 

But suddenly, Bucky rose from your lap. You couldn't contain the whimper that escaped your lips, a protest at his devastating absence. Although he wasn't completely gone, you could feel him at your back, his hands caressing your neck, his nose inhaling the scent of your hair. The ghost of his lips traveling from the sweet spot behind your ear to your collarbone, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He wasn't even kissing you and you were already experiencing things you had never felt before in your years of relationship.

With a graceful and sensual move, Bucky is once again on your lap, trapping you against the chair. He wasn't putting his full weight on you, but enough for you to feel it as he moved his hips. Your eyes traveled south, curious about the bulge that the sweat pants still hid. You'd never seen one before — well, outside of biology and health classes— and you'd never felt the urge to do so. But the way Bucky was moving on you made you wonder about things. You heard him let out a chuckle and looked away in embarrassment, knowing you'd been caught.

“You can look,” Bucky whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “That's what I'm here for, doll.” He stroked your arms, his fingers traveling slowly from your shoulders to your wrists. Then he took your hands and placed them back on his bare chest. “You can touch too, I don't mind.”

The desire traveling through your veins made you feel more confident this time, so you didn't need Bucky to guide your hands down his body. They acted at their own accord, fingers slowly tracing the defined muscles of his pecs and abs. You weren't yet comfortable going below his hips, so once you reached the edge of his pants you changed course to his back. Down, up and back down, your nails drew light red marks on his skin as he moved in your lap. You didn't even realize what you were doing, you just knew you liked hearing the sounds that escaped Bucky's lips when you accidentally applied too much pressure. 

The lowest your trembling hands dared to go were his thighs. Bucky could see in your eyes the desire to go further —to brush your fingers over his bulge or squeeze his ass—, but shame and fear stopped you. You were trying so hard to keep your composure, to behave like a lady, but you couldn't fool Bucky. He knew what you wanted, even when you weren't ready to admit it. He saw it in the way your eyes darkened with each passing second and in the way your breathing became more and more erratic. The innocent, good girl shell you had when you entered the room was cracking, allowing your dark desires to come out. Bucky probably shouldn't find that so exciting, but he did. He couldn't help it, watching the innocence slowly leave your eyes, knowing that he was the one corrupting you, was a sight to behold. 

Your lips curled into a pout of protest as Bucky rose from your lap, already missing the heat of his body pressed against yours. It was only for a moment, but to you it felt like an eternity. And he was counting on it, playing with the anticipation as he made a show of taking off his pants. This time your eyes lingered on his tight boxers for longer, though he could still see a flash of embarrassment as you crossed glances with him. It was driving him crazy, in the best possible way. He wanted to remove that innocence from your expression, to corrupt you past the point of no return. It was his personal goal, the challenge he had quietly accepted the moment he discovered what you were. And he was willing to win it.

Bucky dropped to his knees in front of you, his eyes never leaving yours as his fingers traced your legs. Your chest rose and fell with your quickening breath, your whole body buzzing with anticipation as you felt the gentle caresses moving from your ankles to your knees. To your surprise, his fingers continued their path up your thighs, though they stopped just below the hem of your dress. You resisted the urge to tangle your fingers in his hair as you felt him spread your legs slightly apart —enough for him to fit between them, but not enough to leave you too exposed to his eyes. And then the caresses over your body returned, only this time it was the ghost of Bucky's lips that sent shivers across your skin.

His mouth wasn't actually touching your thighs, but he was so damn close that you could almost feel his lips caressing the soft, sensitive skin on the inside of your leg. A warm tingling spread inside you as he moved further up, getting dangerously close to your trembling center. And at that moment you felt no shame or fear —like you had felt on other occasions with past partners. On the contrary, you wanted more, your legs involuntarily spreading wider to give Bucky more room as the ghost of his lips traveled up your lower tummy and across your abdomen until they reached your breasts. And as your breathy moans became more and more audible, your mind was lost in dark thoughts, wondering how different it would all feel if there was no barrier of clothing separating your bodies or how his wet kisses would feel on the sensitive skin of your thighs. 

You didn't have much time to get lost in the fantasy though because in a second Bucky was on his feet again, pressing you against the back of the chair as he pushed your legs up. He settled down on the edge of the chair, resting each of your legs on his thighs. His hands gripped the back of the chair once again, trapping you completely between the cushions and his body —or rather, his crotch. You were practically sitting on his lap as you shared the chair, and you could feel his cock pressing against your center with every thrust of his hips. He was hard and you didn't know how common that was, but you decided to believe it wasn't something that happened often. You liked to imagine that his body was reacting to you and not to the sexual nature of his work. He wanted you just as much as you wanted him.

Bucky's hips moved to the sensual rhythm of the music, thrusting against your center in a way that made you feel like you were losing your virginity at that very moment. It was too much, the fire inside you spreading with the speed of a forest fire. And at the same time, it wasn't enough. Bucky's hip movements, though intense, did little to put out the flames they had started. They were pulling you into a swirl of desire and need, bringing you closer and closer to your limit with no promise of real relief. It was frustrating, in a way, but also incredibly exciting. 

Your eyes closed for a moment as you struggled to process the sensations that were taking over your body. You tried to focus on your breathing and the sound of the music, anything to keep yourself grounded. But every time you thought you had managed to gain control of your own body again, Bucky moved his hips and all you could feel was pleasure, all you could think about was him. 

A moan escaped your lips. It was involuntary and you didn't even realize what you did until a few seconds later. You were ready to apologize, certain you had crossed some kind of line, but Bucky let out a grunt of approval. One of his hands traveled to the back of your neck, holding your head firmly as he pressed his forehead against yours. His fingers tugged on your hair lightly, but the pain didn't bother you. You were too focused on the shape of his lips to think about anything else. You needed to feel them against yours. You needed to know what it would feel like to be kissed by him. You needed Bucky to take everything from you, to show you everything you'd been missing in these years of loneliness.

“C-can you k-kiss me?” You didn't think before you spoke, you just expressed what your mind was thinking without any kind of filter. Your voice was barely a shy whisper, your lips almost brushing against Bucky's as you spoke.

He should have refused, the number one rule of his job was never to kiss the clients —you never knew what things you might end up catching. But when Bucky saw the desperation in your eyes he couldn't help himself. Your slightly parted lips were highly tempting. You were inviting him, giving him permission to ruin you. You needed it as much as he did, so he gave in, and damned the rules. 

Bucky's lips felt soft against yours, though there was nothing soft about the way he kissed you. Just like his dancing, the kiss was intense and unlike anything you had ever experienced before. His lips moved expertly, knowing exactly what to do to turn you completely stupid. You let him guide you, merely reacting to the pleasure that only Bucky seemed capable of giving you. 

His tongue caressed your lips and you moaned into his mouth, allowing him immediate access to further deepen the kiss. Your hands clung to him —one digging your nails into his bicep while the other rested on his leg—, desperate to find something to keep you grounded while Bucky showed you sensations you didn't know you were capable of feeling. 

You were high on pleasure, trapped under his body, immobilized by his lips, enveloped in his warmth and the scent of his cologne. You didn't want to be separated from him anymore. You didn't want to leave that room. You felt as if Bucky's lips were what kept you breathing, as if you needed them to keep on living. You couldn't pull away. You didn't want to pull away. But unfortunately a knock on the door signaled that your time together was over. 

“You're more than welcome to come back anytime.” Bucky winked at you before disappearing behind the door, leaving you alone in the room. 

It took you a moment to collect your thoughts and calm your rapid breathing. Your heartbeat was still pounding in your ears, but you figured that would change when you had a chance to get some fresh air. Your legs almost gave out when you stood up, still weak in the knees after the spectacle you had witnessed. You felt a little silly having to take a moment to steady yourself. Bucky had gotten up and left without any trouble, and there you were, clinging to the back of the chair as you struggled to compose yourself so you could leave without your friends realizing the effect their dumb idea had really had on you. You were pathetic. 

Gathering your last bit of strength you pushed past the screaming women until you found your friends. They were back at their table, enjoying the routine of a tall, muscular blond who, from what you had heard, called himself Captain America. He was cute, but you couldn't stay in that place a second longer.

“How was it?” one of your friends asked with a smile.

“I need to get some air.”

“That good, huh?” Said the other with a giggle. You rolled your eyes, grabbing both of them by the arm and pulling them up from their seats. 

Amidst protests they agreed to leave with you and call it a night. As they made their way through the crowd they didn't miss the opportunity to flood you with questions, insisting that you give them details of what had happened and how it felt to have Bucky dance just for you. You refused to say anything, partly because you were embarrassed to admit the reality of what had happened, and partly because you still needed time to process the night. 

However, as you were about to leave, one of the waiters who had served your table - a young man who had introduced himself as Spider-Man - grabbed your arm. At first you thought maybe you had forgotten something in your seats and he was being kind enough to catch you before you left. But when you turned to look at him you noticed he had nothing in his hands but a rose and a piece of paper.

“He sends you this.” The boy said, handing you the items and disappearing into the crowd. 

He didn't have to tell you who they were from for you to know. A smile immediately graced your lips as you held the flower to your nose and inhaled. Then you turned your attention to the piece of paper and as you unfolded it you discovered that it was a note.

‘Happy birthday!

Call me ;)' 

It read, and at the end was written a phone number that was undoubtedly Bucky's. Your smile widened, which finally attracted the attention of your friends. One of them took the paper from you before you could hide it and when you saw the expression on her face you knew you weren't going to escape the interrogation. It was going to be a long night.

[evanchantingpeters]

How I met Evan Peters (Fanfic - Part 1)

Pairings ─ Evan Peters x Y/N (fem reader)

Genre ─ Smut/fluff, Romance

Summary ─ Y/N is fresh in East Hollywood, LA. After a major life overhaul, she’s ready to dive into a new chapter. So, when she hits the town for a night out with friends, she unexpectedly crosses paths with none other than actor Evan Peters. Y/N tries to keep her cool and act all nonchalant, but damn, Evan’s interest throws her for a loop. Their first meeting? Total tension and flirtation, hinting at an evening full of surprises.

Disclaimer ─ In Part 1 of the series, the main characters are introduced, setting the stage for the encounter of Evan and Y/N to unfold and the sexual energy between them to build up. Things get super steamy and smutty in Part 2.

Warnings (for Part 2) ─ Obscene language, semi-public, dry humping, oral (both receiving), fingering, overstimulation, handjob, nudes, handjob, nipple teasing, spanking, vaginal sex, rough sex, extra smutty—you guys know the drill :)

Word count ─ 3.8K

18+ > If you’re a minor, do NOT read!

@evanchantingpeters — All rights reserved. Please do not modify, translate, or plagiarise my content.

You step out of the shower, steam stirring around you as you wrap your hair turban-style in a towel. The anticipation of a proper night-out since you made the bold move to quit your job in Europe and pursue another life in the US tingles in your veins. It feels like forever since you’ve let loose, and tonight promises to be nothing short of epic.

Plopping down onto your bed, you grab your go-to jar of coconut body butter from the dresser. You squeeze a generous dollop onto your palm and rub your hands together. The creamy texture blends in as you work it onto your skin, leaving it smooth and oh-so-soft.

As you immerse yourself in your ritual, you hear the familiar buzz of a FaceTime call. Glancing over at your bedside table, you see “Ad💗,” your friend’s name (Adria for full) glowing on the screen. You pick up your phone, still coated in moisturiser, and her face pops up. A look of desperation is written all over her features.

“Hey, girl! What’s up?” you chirp, propping the phone on your desk to finish off your pampering session.

She lets out a dramatic groan. “Send help,” she whines, her voice tinged with panic. “I’m having a meltdown over here. I swear, I got nothing to wear.”

You can’t help but giggle at her faux-crisis. “First-world problems, brain rot,” you tease, sneaking a peek at the heap of clothes behind her. “I see you’ve got quite a selection to pick from.”

Adria pouts, swatting playfully at the camera. “Nah, these don’t count. I need everyone to be ‘she ate and left no crumbs.’ What’re going for tonight? I need some inspo!”

You chuckle sympathetically, holding the phone aloft as you pivot to show her your fit for tonight laid out on your bed. “I’m going for less is more—my thrifted mini satin dress and racing black leather jacket with my military boots and white tube socks for a touch of sass.”

She gives you a strained smile as she takes in your outfit. “Ahh, you pull off that casual vibe effortlessly, babe.”

You flip the camera back to you, shrugging nonchalantly, “I’m casual and proud!”

Adria rolls her eyes with a teasing glint. “Okay, but what about makeup? You gotta glam it up… you know the LA sparkle! That’s how we do it in East Hollywood, at least!”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Nah, I’m feeling the au naturel look. You know I suck with makeup big time—I’d probably end up looking like Pennywise.”

Rather than rehashing your “Why makeup should be banned” manifesto, you choose to dig further into the evening’s plans. “So, who else’s joining us tonight, Ad?”

She rattles off a list of names, both female and male—some known, others unknown—and you nod along. “Gotcha. I’ll be ready by 10.”

“Perf. I’ll swing by to pick you up then. Buckle up for a wild night, biyyyatch!” she exclaims, wiggling her brows at you.

You let out a choked laugh as you observe her grimacing. “Alrighty, catch you soon!”

Once you hang up, you slip into your outfit and let your hair fall loose, fluffing it up for a bit of volume. No need for fancy blowouts tonight—you’re all about that breezy, air-dried look.

With a spritz of perfume and a final check in the mirror, you grab your essentials and head out into the dazzling city lights.

As you strut into the club with your gang, the uplifting beats hit you like a wave of energy. The nostalgic tunes of early 2000’s R&B thump in your chest, urging you to groove with every step. You all weave through the sea of nightclubbers, the party mode building up inside you like a pressure cooker ready to explode.

“Let’s hit the bar!” Tommy, one of the guys and Adria’s boyfriend, shouts over Missy Elliot. You all nod in agreement, eager to keep the high spirits flowing with some booze.

You slither through more partygoers who dance erratically, all while juggling their drinks. Some move smoothly to the rhythm, while others simply jiggle around out of tune.

Neon lights flash and strobe, casting an electric glow over the bartender as he polishes a row of whiskey glasses with cool confidence. A cheeky smile plays on his lips as you hop onto an empty stool before him.

“What can I get you started?” he roars over the music, his voice cutting through the din.

“Coronas all around,” you holler, matching his tone with equal fervour. You hand him a wad of cash chipped in by everyone.

“Coming right up.” With a flick of his wrist, he expertly pops the cap off the bottle, sliding them your way with a wink.

“Thanks,” you mouth, shooting him a grin before heading back to your friends with a tray.

You take a long, satisfying gulp, the crisp taste of beer quenching your thirst. With your beverage in hand, you pace to the dance floor, your friends in tow only metres away.

Your hips swing in harmony with the melody, and your feet glide effortlessly across the ground. Heads turn and whispers follow your path. Some even reach out, uttering unintelligible words, or brush against your shoulder as you pass by.

Ignoring the distractions, you grab Adria and Jasmine, dragging them into the heart of the dance floor while the rest of the group forms a circle around you. The music engulfs you, momentarily sweeping away the grim memories of your pre-relocation life.

With each song that blares through the speakers, your body twists and twirls with fluid grace, each move perfectly timed to the tempo of the music. In that moment, you feel more alive, more liberated than ever before.

As time trickles by, the music continues to pump and the lights swirl around you. You notice Joseph, the lone blond dude in the squad, inching closer and closer to you as the night stretches on. 

“Heyo, Y/N! How’s it going?” he greets you with a tap on the shoulder, his voice rumbling near your ear.

“Hey! All good now. How’s you?” you retort with a tight-lipped smile, bringing your Corona to your lips for another sip.

“Now that I’m chatting with you, much better!” he quips back, a hint of mischief in his tone. “How are you liking the States?”

Just as you’re about to respond, joyous screams erupt from Adria and a couple of other girls from your group, catching your attention. Before you can fully process what’s happening, Adria dashes toward you and jumps into your arms, nearly knocking you off balance.

“Girl! Are you on Molly or something? What’s going on?” you mock, smoothing out your dress on the cleavage before you start flashing whoever’s at close vicinity.

“Omg, you won’t believe it!” Adria squeaks, frantically clapping her hands.

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Try me.”

“Ahh, my fangirling is through the roof right now! Evan Peters is here,” she cries out, bouncing up and down, squeezing your hand tightly.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “Who?” 

“Evan Peters, Y/N! The hottie from American Horror Story… Kai Anderson, Cult? Kit Walker, Asylum? Seriously, don’t these ring any bells? Umm… Dahmer? Come on—you’ve watched that series!” she insists, her voice pitch rising as she tries to jog your memory.

A flicker of recognition crosses your face as your friend’s description sinks in. “Oh, right, Evan Peters,” you concede with a faint smile. “I remember now…And?”

Adria’s eyes widen, her mouth falling open in disbelief. “And?? He’s in the same space as us, breathing the same oxygen, Y/N!”

You shake your head, trying to inject a dose of reality into her Hollywood-induced haze. “Okay, but let’s be real here. He’s a mega star, so totally out of league. I mean, we’ve got about as much chance with him as a blue whale does with climbing Mount Everest,” you quip and fold your arms, narrowing your eyes at her. “And you’ve got a boyfriend, in case you forgot.”

Adria’s enthusiasm deflates slightly as she’s reminded of Tommy. “It’s not the same,” she protests sheepishly, fiddling with her bracelet. “You know how celebrity crushes work. How can I not crave Evan when he’s graced the world with his Tate Langdon role?” 

You can’t help but laugh at her delirium. “Ugh, Adria, it’s giving obsession and borderline restraining order from Peters if you keep this up. Let’s just focus on having a blast tonight and drop the celebrity fantasies, okay?”

A couple of hours melt away, and the energy of the dance floor begins to wane. Most of your friends retreat to a nearby table to freshen up. But not you. With two others by your side, you’re on a mission to keep the party alive, letting the music guide your body with a fierce determination.

Mid-twirl, though, your eyes snag on something unexpected—a figure lingering at the fringes of the dance floor, his attractive gaze burning into you like a laser beam, sending a bolt of lightning down your back. It takes a moment for you to register who it is, but when you do, your heart kicks into overdrive.

Evan Peters.

You try to play it cool, biting down on the inside of your cheek to stifle the grin that’s itching to break free. You try to pass it off as just a coincidence, a trick of the light or a delulu figment of your imagination, but when you steal another glance in his direction, you find his eyes still trained on you. This time around, he offers a timid smile.

Your throat feels like it’s swallowed a golf ball as you sense his eyes fixed on you. Desperate to shake off the sudden self-consciousness, you rummage through your tiny shoulder bag for your phone. Your fingers jitter as you feign interest in your screen, scrolling aimlessly through your main menu or typing out gibberish in your notes app.

But even as you try to stay composed, his stare weighs on you like a ton of bricks. Are you tripping? Feeling more awkward and exposed than ever (you don’t have Evan Peters laying eyes on you every day), you motion to your friends that you’re heading to the restroom. Anything to escape the spotlight, even if it’s only for a sec.

This time, you bulldoze through the crowd, head low, with the toilets being your last glimmer of hope for salvation. Or so you think. Just as you’re about to slip away, a warm, soft hand gently closes around your wrist, halting you in your tracks.

Every muscle in your body tenses as you slowly turn to confront the person obstructing your way. And there he is, Evan Peters in the flesh, standing before you with an enigmatic grin playing at the corners of his lips.

Your heart leaps into your throat when you face him, every nerve in your body suddenly on high alert. Your mind races a mile a minute—Is this real life? Did you manifest this? Is Evan Peters actually in front of you?

Fuck, Adria’s right. He’s hot as hell, you ruminate, feeling your breath clutching in your throat.

Before you can even gather your thoughts, he greets you with a seductive rasp. “Hey.” His eyes seal with yours in a way that makes your knees turn into jelly.

I just saw you and heard you in person, Evan! Scrap everything I said to Adria. Forget the restraining order. Just slap the handcuffs on me, and do whatever you want... Erhm, I mean, take me into custody cause staring at you should definitely be illegal.

You freeze, unable to tear your eyes away from his handsome dark brown (almost black) eyes and silky tousled curls. A feeble “Hi” is all you manage, your voice barely above a whisper as a nervous flutter stomps onto your stomach.

“Having a good time?” he checks in, his smile widening by the second.

“The asphyxiation I feel right now must be a sure sign that I’m enjoying myself, right?” you reply, fanning your hand in front of your face for dramatic effect.

His throaty laughter bubbles up from deep within him, the sound instantly cranking up your heartbeat. It’s genuine and infectious, like he’s letting down his guard and inviting you into his world, flashing those perfect teeth like they’re on a billboard.

“If you’re suffocating from excitement, then you must be doing something right. But don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye out on you. If you turn purple, I’ll dial 911,” he teases, gently lifting your chin with his index finger and giving you a full inspection with feigned seriousness. “Nope, we’re good. So far, all I see is beauty, no signs of death.”

You can feel your cheeks heating up with embarrassment, so you instinctively lower your head, hoping to hide your rose-tinted face. 

You battle to keep it together, but the fact that his hand hasn’t budged from your wrist since your eyes met screams, ‘fainting spell incoming.’ As if that’s enough, his thumb traces soft circles on your skin, sending goosebumps up your arm. “You make me cringe, do it again,” you joke, and you both share a laugh.

“Alright, let’s see what card I should pull next. Here it comes, drumroll—on behalf of everyone in here, I testify to your: ‘I got some serious moves and conquered the dance floor, but I need a breather now.’” he rambles and raises his free hand in mock ovation, his grin laced with mischief.

You chuckle, a surge of confidence brewing within you. “Well, it takes the greatest of them all to verify this. A lifetime of dancing lessons didn’t go down the drain, I guess. I appreciate your testament, sir, and the panel’s verdict,” you coo, bowing theatrically.

Once again, his laughter fills the space between you, warm and hearty.

After a few minutes of silence and a staring contest that makes it agonising for you to breathe, you finally utter, “I said this would be my night, and, apparently, I meant that,” discreetly eyeing him from head to toe, semi-drooling.

“Yeah? Any highlights of the night?” he inquires, his tone dripping with curiosity, and you can’t resist playing along after letting your thoughts slip out loud.

“Nothing yet. But I’m counting on your highlighter to illuminate my way,” you spill out, playfully tilting your head to the side. A sly grin spreads across your lips as you throw the bait, hoping he’ll keep up with your pun game.

His “strike” is immediate as he edges closer to you. “Believe it or not, I’ve got one on me that can change your night from the inside out,” he shoots back, his smile growing, clearly on the same innuendo-laden wavelength as you. You’re a match made in flirtatious banter heaven, true that.

“I need some inside work, that’s for sure. Glad you’re volunteering,” you reply, feeling a rush of heat flood through you at his words. Then, you quickly transition, turning his wrist stroking into a handshake as you introduce yourself.

He hums, gently taking your hand in his, his smile stretching wide enough to reveal his adorable dimples that only add to his charm. “Evan.”

“I know,” you admit, unable to contain your broad smile. “But just an FYI, I haven’t binged-read your fanfics or analysed our astrology charts to see if we’re soulmates. I’ve gone as far as watching Dahmer. Stellar performance, by the way,” you blurt out, still shaking his hand.

He rolls his lips into his mouth to suppress another giggle. “Okay, chill. No need to prove you’re not a psycho. Wanna grab a drink to cool off?”

“No need to ask,” you fire back with equal enthusiasm, both of you grinning like kids in a candy store. Without hesitation, you just follow his lead, diving headfirst into the moment with a reckless abandon, thinking, ‘I’m all in, no matter what crazy idea you’ve got up your sleeve, baby boy.’

He cups your hand in his, his palm firm and reassuring, as he guides you through the throngs of people toward a quieter bar setup located upstairs in the club. The touch makes your head spin, feeling the familiar sensation of heat pooling between your thighs, leaving your undies all moist. You’ve felt sparks like this before, but never quite so intensely, and certainly not so quickly with anyone else.

As you trail behind him, you can’t help but lightly graze the back of his hand, mapping the pathways of his veins with your fingertips. You love a baby face paired with strong arms—he’s exactly your kind of man.

“Maybe it’s better…” he begins once you reach the bar, but the music swells out of the blue, drowning out the remainder of his sentence.

You involuntarily scrunch up your nose and squint, struggling to concentrate and hear him over the blasting tunes. “Come again, sorry?”

Before you can react, he draws closer to you. His breath is warm and tickly against your ear, causing a tremor through your entire body. Not to mention his voice: husky and velvety, making your cunt pulsate for him already.

Damn, things are moving at lightning speed, and you’re struggling to keep pace.

As Evan gets nearer, you catch a subtle yet alluring whiff of cinnamon and cologne. But, actually, it’s the natural scent exuding from his body that has a chokehold over you. Those pheromones he unleashes are like full-blown intoxication, making you lightheaded, your pulse thudding.

You lean in to mimic his gesture and whisper to his ear, but you’re pleasantly surprised when he gently clasps your hand, signalling for you to hold on. As he removes his earplugs, he explains, “Sorry I’ve got very sensitive ears.”

You chuckle, a wicked spark in your eye as you lift a tuft of hair to reveal your own ear protectors. “Great minds think alike,” you cheer.

“No, you didn’t,” he exclaims, eyes widened as you burst out laughing in sync.

As your laughter subsides, Evan’s expression shifts. His eyes bore into yours with a smouldering intensity as if he’s on the verge of revealing a long-held secret or daring to make a move.

But before you can form coherent thoughts or pluck up the courage to speak, Evan blinks fast, breaking the spell. “Shall we get those drinks at last? What’d you like?”

You clear your throat, trying to snap out of your nasty thoughts with Evan being the main character. “I’m down for another Corona, thanks.”

He flashes a quick two-finger salute to the bartender before turning back to you, his lips curving up in a cute, crooked smile. “So, who are you here with tonight?”

“Just some friends,” you confess, your voice trailing off as he raises his bottle to clink it against yours in a toast. His eyes remain glued on yours as he takes a sip, his defined jawline and slender neck at full display begging for your kisses. The intensity of his gaze makes your legs all wobbly. “A-and yourself?” you stammer, breaking eye contact to nervously trace a circular pattern on the rim of the bottle glass with your fingers.

“Same, I came to visit friends during my break. I’m flying back to Vancouver in ten days to carry on filming Tron.”

Your grip tightens around the cool glass of your drink as Evan drops the bombshell. You feel the liquid catch in your throat as you choke, a sudden surge of panic hitting your chest. You cough, the sound harsh and uncontrolled, your body reacting instinctively to the news.

“Canada?” you manage to croak out between coughs, your voice hoarse. You struggle to swallow past the lump, your throat raw and constricted. Your chest heaves as you fight to regain control.

“Y/N, are you okay?” he asks with a sense of urgency, his forehead creased with deep lines of worry. Leaning in, his eyes search yours for any sign of distress. His hand reaches out to steady you, giving you comforting back rubs.

You nod weakly, your eyes watering from the effort of suppressing another coughing fit.

“Let me fetch some water for you,” he offers, his voice soft and soothing. He sprints to the bar, returning seconds later with a glass of water and a concerned frown etched on his forehead.

“Thanks,” you mumble, accepting the glass with a trembling hand, keeping the bottle of beer in your other hand. The cool water soothes your parched throat, and you feel a sense of relief wash over you as Evan tenderly ruffles your hair and massages your scalp to calm you down. Hint: his hands on you work wonders.

“I’m okay,” you assure him, looking up to meet his gaze again, your heart hammering. Everything else fades away, leaving only the reassuring presence of Evan before you.

You can practically sense the sexual tension between you. His stare flickers between your lips and eyes, his own mouth slightly parted. It’s like a silent invitation that hangs between you like a charged wire ready to ignite, daring you to take a plunge and smother his face with kisses. And then suck his dick so hard that his stomach caves in like a Caprisun.

It doesn’t matter that you’ve just met; he has you at hello and you’d spread your legs for this man without a second thought…

You gulp as you realise he’s almost inches away from you. You shudder when his fresh breath—an irresistible blend of mint and alcohol—wafts into my mouth, blowing stray strands of hair off your face. “You’re leaving in ten days?” you sigh, puckering your lips and giving him a puppy-eyed look.

“Yes, but I’m still here,” he whispers, his eyes fixed on your lips as he leans into your stool. With a single knee, he slowly splits your legs and slides in between them.

“You’re here now. Wanna be at my place next?” you suggest, and he stares back at your eyes with a crooked smirk, his lips curled mischievously.

Without warning, his lips brushed against yours, throwing your arousal off the chart. The torturously slow pace that his lips slide along yours makes your sex leap, pop, and drip. Soft moans escape your bodies as he grabs your ass to pull you in, squeezing it along the way as his chest cushions firmly against your breasts.

He smiles against your lips as you tangle your fingers in his hair and part your mouth, giving him the green light to roughen the kiss. His hard rock boner already presses against your wet centre when his tongue invades your mouth with primitive force, swirling and twirling with yours in a passionate dance.

“How long to get to yours?” he grunts out of breath, wincing from the uncomfortable angle his stiff cock has now taken in his trousers.

“It’s roughly a ten-minute ride, give or take,” you pant, adjusting the hem of your dress.

“Off we go.”

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

@evanchantingpeters — All rights reserved. Please do not modify, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[babygorewhore]

You are the only Exception

Blurb.

Eddie is your brother’s best friend. Who often reminds you Eddie would never go for you. But one night on a last minute change, Eddie takes you to a concert. Where he finally confesses what he’s always wanted to.

Warnings. None! Less than 1k. (Who am I?) thank you to my love @take-everything-you-can for giving me so many adorable thots for this one!!!

Your brother's best friend was Eddie Munson, someone you’ve had a crush on for years but your brother wouldn’t ever let you be alone with him for more than five minutes.

“Dude, you’re a princess and he’s just not into that.” He would say, but you didn’t care. You still admired and obsessed over him.

Tonight was the night of the paramore concert, something your brother promised to take you for your birthday. You half hoped Eddie would have joined but you didn’t voice it. You looked at your outfit in the mirror, the cropped black paramore shirt and plaid pants. Your boots gave you a few inches and your hair was styled out of your face from anticipating sweat.

Your makeup was perfect for the hot lighting and you took a million selfies and posted them all.

But a knock at your door caught your attention.

“Hey um im really sorry but I won’t be able to take you tonight.”

You spun around, prepared to scream at him when your brother held his hands up.

“But before you freak out, Eddie said he would take you. He’s downstairs. And don’t be weird. I know you have some stupid crush on him.”

You threw a shoe at him which hit him on the arm as he rolled his eyes and left. You smooth your outfit repeatedly out of nerves. Oh god. Eddie was taking you to a childhood dream concert?

As you came down the stairs, you saw Eddie talking and laughing with your brother and his smile briefly dropped and turned into something softer before he snapped into place.

“Hey, rocker girl.” He greeted you as you came closer. He reached to play with your hair and your brother smacked his hand.

“Man, come on. She’ll throw a fit if you mess up all that hairspray. She’s living her emo kid fantasy right now.”

Although he didn’t mention that it also included kissing Eddie Munson, your eyes flickered to his full lips that were casually upturned. Eddie was wearing all black with an oversized jean jacket. To your surprise, he held up two wristbands. They both said paramore.

“Kinda hard to get ahold of these but I got them. Here,” he reached to slip it on your hand and you swallowed as his ringed fingers touched your skin.

“Shall we?” Eddie held out his elbow and you curtsied.

“Lead the way, sir.” Your brother turned up his lip and you gave him an innocent look as you both walked out of the door.

Your heart thudded the entire drive and as you both situated in the growing crowd near the stage. You rose to your tip toes and back down to ease some of the anxiety when you felt Eddie’s hand go to your lower back. “It’s okay. They’ll be out soon.” He said to your ear and you felt goosebumps.

“Trust me,” he pulled back, speaking louder. “I’m an expert.” You raised your eyebrows as he started grinning.

“Oh? I didn’t realize you were such a superstar, Edward.” He put a hand over his heart.

“You wound me, princess. Playing for five drunks has made me way better than some punk pop band.” He playfully rolled his eyes.

You smacked his shoulder lightly as you heard the crowd roar. Spinning, you saw the band walk out center stage. You met their screaming and started jumping as the guitars played with their opening song.

“Are we ready??” Hayley called out and you started clapping.

As the show continued, you shed tears and your favorite songs from your teen years were played. Finally, your favorite song. The Only exception began. You raised your arms and then felt another pair wrap around your waist. You felt his jacket on your bare flesh and you turned your head. Eddie was smiling at you, his lips turned up in the lights. The shadows across his face did nothing to conceal the yearning in his brown eyes.

You leaned into him, enjoying every second as the years of pining came to mind. His hands gently traced your ribs. His cool rings pricking your skin that was hot.

“You are the only exception.” You all sang out and you instinctively pulled out of Eddie’s hold but his hand slid into your pocket. And then he started aggressively head banging.

You gasped and then cackled. But then Eddie leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. You turned and cupped his face. Meeting his kiss with parted lips as you briefly forgot about the crowd.

He pulled back and pecked your lips a few more times. “Let’s keep watching, sweetheart. Gotta face your brother when we get back.” He smirked.

“He can get over it.” You giggled and faced the stage again.

“Oh and by the way,” Eddie said against your ear again. “You’re not too much of a princess for me, sweetheart. You’re the only exception.”

Tagging @xxhellfirebunnyxx @lesservillain @emsgoodthinkin @reidsbtch @slvt4jamesmarch @marchsfreakshow

[volpe-kitsune-red]

A taste of you～

Part 2

Lynx Andromeda (Yandere OC) x reader

tw. general yandere behavior, possessive behavior, reader is a bit socially awkward, alcohol, vampires, blood-drinking, slightly suggestive content

Someone in your college had organized a huge party and invited every student to join; you didn't know the guy but Lynx did. Your best friend knew practically more than half of the people who attended the school and reassured you that the man had a huge mansion and a pool in his backyard, meaning it wouldn't feel too crowded even if everyone showed up. But that wasn't your concern, this was going to be the biggest party you had been to and the fullest of strangers. You weren't exactly scared of people but not a social butterfly either so you couldn't help but feel nervous about how the night was gonna go. "Nervous? Oh come on love, I'll be right by your side the whooole time. If you feel overwhelmed I'll just make an excuse to take you away...somewhere private hehe～" You were used to her teasing and yet it still made a slight blush tint your cheeks. Of course, she was just joking, however, the way her eyes pierced into yours every time she said things like that was making you question her true intentions...and your feelings for her.

Lynx had insisted on wearing matching outfits, and you both decided (after a long debate) on black colors paired with something made of red leather. When she came to pick you up you saw that she had put on a black top with a short red leather skirt, she looked amazing and you were quick to let her know. "And you are outrageously stunning, I might have to keep a closer eye on you tonight or someone might steal you away from me～" You laughed in response "Aww stop it, you're making it sound like we're together or something!" "Hmm..not yet..." The rest of the ride was filled with you two casually catching up on what you did that day, she always avoided talking about her life at home so she resorted to telling you about a fun music series she found called 'Alien Stage', excitedly forcing you to listen to some of the songs.

You arrived an hour late to the party. It was already packed with people, not as many as you expected, but the night was still young so many others were yet to show up. You and Lynx began looking for your friends. It was hard to move more than 5 steps at a time, not because there was no space to do so, but because people kept approaching your friend to start some small talk or invite her to join them in whatever activity they were doing. Finally, you spotted the group of your mutual friends and joined them. Everything was going better than expected, you were having fun, and Lynx helped you shake off a couple of drunk men who were making you feel uncomfortable.

At some point in the night, one of your friends asked you if you could go grab him a cup of water. Poor guy had drunk a couple of shots too much so you told him to sit down as you left the group. Lynx was having fun at a karaoke battle with some random woman so you decided not to bother her by asking her to accompany you. You wouldn't want to ruin her night just because you needed some assistance to feel secure at a party. You went up to the bar and asked the man behind it, who was presumably the butler of the house but was doubling as a barista for the night if he could give you a cup of water. When the man turned around to take a cup and fill it, someone tapped you on the shoulder. You turned around and the woman behind you smiled. "Hi there sugar... my eyes have been wandering towards you the whole night, I have been waiting for the best moment to approach such a cutie, mind blessing me with a little company?" She gently took your hand and you were too stunned to react as she pressed her lips on the back of your palm. You blushed, a bit embarrassed by her boldness. She was undeniably a gorgeous woman, tall, with tan skin, white hair, and a cleanly styled wolf cut...but you had to go back to your friend. "I'm flattered, really. But I need to go back to my friend, he's not feeling well so I was supposed to bring him a cup of water." The woman appeared amused. "You're talking about Ron, right? He's fine, he's also a friend of mine, I asked him if he could do me a favor by securing me a minute alone with you." You thought Ron was such a traitor for selling you off to a stranger, just like that, without a warning even. But you would confront your friend and his behavior another time. Maybe it was the alcohol or the fact that it's been years since your last romantic interaction, but you had decided to give this random woman a shot. She was hot and had gone through all that trouble just to approach you, so why not, right?

You two sat on the bar stools and started chatting, she wasn't too bad, she was charming and a great listener. At one point she put a hand on your tight and leaned closer to you. You weren't sure if she was about to kiss you or whisper something in your ear, and you would never find out because before she could do anything a person forced themselves between you two, forcing her to retreat and put her hand away. It was Lynx, you couldn't see her face because she had her back turned toward you, and as soon as she turned around, her expression was blank. "Love, please come with me, immediately. I have something to tell you." You looked at her confused but she was serious, so you nodded, stood up, and tried to excuse yourself to your new acquaintance but Lynx interlocked her arm with yours and started pulling you away with her. Concerned and irritated by whatever was going on, you followed her silently into a quiet, empty room of the mansion and closed the door behind you. "Lynx can you explain what is going-" You weren't given the chance to finish the sentence as Lynx gently but swiftly pressed you against the wall, wrapped her arms around your waist, and smashed her lips against yours. You were shocked, incredibly confused...and her lips were soft, and her body was pressed against yours, making your mind and body feel fuzzy.

Her kiss lasted a couple of seconds, maybe three before her lips parted with yours. "I can't believe it, I take my eye off of you and you go wandering off to someone else, maybe I should put a leash on you so this won't happen again." What the hell was she saying? "L-Lynx, you're my best friend, we aren't a couple or anything... I asked you to look out for me tonight to help me out in case something was going wrong, that doesn't mean you can just tear me away from anyone I'm talking to without checking to see what's really going on! That woman wasn't-" "Do not mention her, she doesn't deserve to be on your mind, let alone your body. I saw how she was touching you, she wanted to steal you away- away from ME!" Her dark pupils started to swirl into a glowing red color, it was clear she was struggling to keep her voice steady. When she noticed the fearful stare you were giving her, the red disappeared and her features visibly relaxed. She raised one of her hands to put it on your cheek, her sweet tone masking her true emotions. "It's ok darling, I'll make sure something like this will never happen again. You know that I love you right? That I would never harm you?" You felt that your answer wasn't really needed but you replied either way, putting your hand on hers. "Yes Lynx, I know you love me. We've known each other since we were little kids and you've never done anything that hurt me. But what does this all mean? Y-you...uh, kissed me just now, are you trying to tell me something?" Her gaze softened. "My love, you are just too cute, it's just so hard to resist eating you up right away..." She buried her head in the crook of your neck. "...to sink my teeth into you and taste you." At this point, you were as red as a tomato. Did she just confess her feelings to you? If she did, that was definitely a weird way to word it. But then you felt something sharp poke at your neck. You look down to see your best friend's open mouth hovering over your skin. Two long sharp teeth sticking out, threatening to pierce into you at any moment. "...Lynx. What is this...what are you doing?" Her arm wrapped itself tighter around your waist while the hand on your cheek moved around the back of your head to steadily hold it in place. "I'm sorry dear but you left me with no choice...and you are just so irresistible." Your whole body stiffened at the realization of what was about to happen, you tried to wriggle away but it was too late. A sharp pain shot into your neck, blood started pouring out and you refused to watch as she proceeded to suck and drink it all.

You screamed but the party outside the door was too loud to hear you, your shouts of pain and your pleads were lost amongst the laughter and singing of the people outside. Eventually, you felt yourself going weak, and your vision faded to black.

[wandashousewife]

The Saving Grace (Chapter Two)

Pairing — Wanda x Reader

Synopsis — In the town of Westview, Scarlet Witch, Wanda Maximoff, navigates the challenges of her busy life—juggling work as a therapist, parenting her twin boys, and managing daily stress. Her kind neighbor, you, has consistently provided support, offering coffee, desserts, and a sympathetic ear. Today, after an emotionally draining session, Wanda seeks solace and decides to reach out to you for the first time, hoping to share her burdens.

Warnings — angst, depressed wanda, divorce

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Wanda kept pushing the doorbell every second, her anticipation growing with each ring. She anxiously tapped her foot, the sound becoming a rhythmic drumming that echoed her impatience as she waited for you to answer the door. Glancing at your car parked outside was her only reassurance amid the lingering uncertainty.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you opened the door. Wanda couldn't help but assess your appearance – a blend of grunge and skater vibes. The Nirvana t-shirt with the iconic smiley face and torn pants gave you a teenage skater aesthetic, seemingly straight out of Hot Topic. Despite the unconventional attire, you managed to look presentable.

"Sorry to be a bother, Y/N, but may I come in?" Wanda finally spoke, her gaze shifting from your outfit to your face, wondering if you'd turn her away with indifference.

You nodded, allowing her entry into your space. As she stepped inside, Wanda observed the details of your home, noting the clean and organized kitchen that contradicted the disheveled exterior. Intrigued, she pondered whether this glimpse offered any insight into your true self.

Leading her to the couch, Wanda noticed Agatha's pampered rabbit lounging like royalty. The fluffy fur exuded cuteness, though Wanda recalled its propensity for biting, a memory from a previous playdate with Tommy at Agatha's. “You babysit for Agatha as well?" Wanda inquired, her attention still fixated on the bunny.

"Yeah, apparently Ralph doesn't like him. Thinks he's taking all of her affection away, so I usually babysit for the weekends," you replied, sharing a glimpse into your life that brought a soft smile to Wanda's face.

Exiting to the kitchen, you realized the oversight of not having dinner prepared, courtesy of the distracting rabbit. "I'm not sure I'm ready for a full dinner yet. How about a coffee?" you suggested, reaching for two mugs, setting the stage for a more relaxed and casual interaction.

After finishing the coffee, you returned to the living room, setting down the mugs as the steam rose, almost blinding in its intensity. "So, what did you need to talk about?" you inquired, braving a sip from the still-hot coffee.

Wanda took a moment, her gaze momentarily distant. "Well, you know how I'm a therapist? There was this one girl whose parents are going through a messy divorce process, and she feels like it's the end of the world," she explained, taking a breath. "That's basically where I'm at right now. After Vision left, it all kinda went downhill..." The weight of her words lingered in the air.

You listened intently, understanding the gravity of Wanda's words as she shared the challenges of her role as a therapist and the personal toll it had taken. The air in the room seemed to carry the weight of unspoken emotions.

Wanda continued, her voice reflecting a mix of professional concern and personal vulnerability. "It's just tough, you know? Dealing with others' pain while carrying your own. After Vision left, everything felt like it was slipping away. The foundation I thought I had crumbled, and now, I'm left trying to help others rebuild when I'm not sure how to rebuild myself."

Silence hung in the room for a moment as Wanda collected her thoughts. You could sense the struggle beneath her composed exterior, the conflict between the roles she played – therapist and someone navigating her own storm.

"Sometimes, it feels like I'm drowning in this sea of emotions, and I don't know how to stay afloat. I thought maybe talking to someone, like you, might help. Even therapists need a listening ear, right?" Wanda's eyes met yours, seeking understanding and perhaps a shared connection amid the complexities of life.

You nodded in understanding, recognizing the vulnerability that Wanda had just laid bare. "Absolutely, Wanda. Even therapists need a safe space to unravel their thoughts and feelings," you reassured, offering a supportive gaze.

As she continued to share the intricacies of her struggles, you found a shared connection in the universal experience of grappling with personal storms. "Life has a way of throwing curveballs, doesn't it?" you reflected, the warmth of empathy evident in your words. "It's okay not to have all the answers, and it's okay to seek support. We're all navigating through the chaos in our own ways."

Wanda, seemingly relieved by the understanding, managed a small smile. "Thank you for being that listening ear. It means more than you know."

The conversation shifted into a delicate dance of shared experiences, the coffee now a comforting companion in the midst of a heart-to-heart.

[chrystalwynd]

Where Everybody Knows Your Name- Part 1

Words: 2400

mc mf md tentacles

                I turned off the main street and started walking down the alley.

                I was in downtown Chrystal Heights, but this alley could have been anywhere. Different colored neon lights blinked above doorways and on signs jutting above the narrow alley, advertising various businesses and services. The types of businesses and services one uses a neon lit doorway in an otherwise dark alley to enter.

                I found the doorway I was looking for easily enough. I passed through the door and walked into The Electric Raven.

Inside was somewhat better lit, but only slightly. Track lighting made some areas fairly bright, but there were a host of darkened corners and nooks where one could sit relatively unobserved. If one wished, of course. Tables of different sizes were placed haphazardly, with no particular order to them. Old couches sat here and there, along with the occasional loveseat. Quotes, graphics and artistic images covered the walls. In one corner was a small slightly raised deck with a single dim spotlight shining on a microphone stand with a stool next to it.

                I paused for a moment. The Electric Raven was more environment than bar. It was smoky heat and neon mystery. Where the quiet and dangerous shared drinks with the casually intense. Where the lost and malevolent played darts with the virtuous and forbidden. A door between the known and unknown. A fun place to drink, but only if you knew the score.

                I glanced around. It was a typical night at The Electric Raven, if such a thing existed. A group of Hell’s Choir bikers were gathered around a table, singing show-tunes in Latin. A 19th-century British safari hunter played backgammon with a dwarf wearing a ballerina outfit. An eight-foot tall man wearing a loincloth and covered with tattoos debated Nietzsche with an unspeakably beautiful succubus, her pointed tail punctuating her assertions. A female ninja, barely visible in the smoky shadows, shared laughs and hair tips with a bearded transvestite. A live marionette twirled about the dance floor, her unseen strings manipulated by unseen hands, as she danced to the music from a mime’s air-guitar performance.

                Everyone was welcome at The Electric Raven and questions weren’t asked.

                So it was a quiet night. I strolled by the bar and nodded to the bartender. “Evening, Craig.”

                Craig was polishing an already-clean glass. He nodded back. “Elliot. ‘Ow’s tricks, mate?”

                I tossed a pretzel to the gremlin next to the cash register. His name was Dexter. Then I gave Craig a non-committal thumbs up and headed toward my favorite corner.

                The mime left the stage, replaced by an intense-looking man who didn’t blink enough. The man stepped up to the microphone and paused. Then he started speaking:

                “The power to change;

                the strength to not change.

                They are the Originals.

                The battle between Good and Evil continues;

                light and dark conflict.

                The teachers teach, but who watches the watchers?

                They are the Originals.”

                The man turned and exited the stage without waiting for the smattering of applause his poem had generated. The low buzz of conversation resumed.

I continued making my way toward my table. As I got there, however, I was stopped.

                She was dressed in tight clothing, her lush curves packaged perfectly, with all the right parts on display. From her blue-dyed hair to her manicured bare red toes, she was pure heat. She gave me a smile that offered all kinds of promises.

                “Hi,” she said, her fingers playing with my shirt. “My name is Kiki.”

                “Hi, Kiki,” I said, feeling the heat racing to my already thickening cock. “What can I do for you?”

                “I just wanted to say hi,” she said, pressing closer to me, letting me smell her delightful perfume. “Maybe we could get to know each other a little, you know?”

                I nodded, offering a foolish smile. “That sounds great.”

                “Oh, yes,” she said, her bare belly close to mine. “Maybe we could even have some fun.”

                I smiled. She was good. My dick was ready to burst out of my pants. But she was too inexperienced to close the deal this time. Particularly against someone like me.

                “That’s a wonderful idea,” I said. “Fun is good. So let’s have some fun.”

                And then I turned her power against her.

                Kiki’s eyes widened and her cheeks suddenly flushed. Her lips parted slightly, then closed. Her nipples were hard, thick erasers pressing out against the stretchy tightness of her top. She placed her palms on my chest, then slowly dropped to her knees in front of me.

                Her face was inches from my bulging zipper. I smiled as the heat-bunny struggled internally between rational thought and overwhelming physical need.

                Physical need won out, as I knew it would. Red nails found my zipper, pulled it down, allowing my rigid cock to spring free, nearly slapping Kiki in the face. Unable to help herself, she slid her warm, wet mouth over my cock.

                I smiled, enjoying the wave of pleasure generated by Kiki’s firmly-wrapped lips stroking over my dick. No doubt the patrons of [i]The Electric Raven[/i] were enjoying the show and Kiki was dying of embarrassment, but Kiki couldn’t have stopped working my cock any more than she could have grown a second head. All she could do was see it through to the end.

                This being Chrystal Heights, people are occasionally born with some random abilities. These abilities can take different forms. Sometimes that form is the ability to amplify someone else’s arousal to extreme levels. In males, it’s often found in Alphas and will usually result in any number of swelled bellies in their wakes. In females, it’s pretty much an amplification of a female’s natural ability.

                Of course, some women try to use it as Kiki did. Give a man a rock-hard dick, promise him pure bliss and get him in private. The man’s so revved up by the time the woman actually touches him, he absolutely explodes and then passes out from the amplified intensity. The woman then helps herself to the contents of his wallet and makes her way home. It works on women as well, but men tend to be easier and far more predictable marks. These women are usually referred to as heat-bunnies and are typically found in alleys or bars like The Electric Raven.

                It’s an easy way to make quick money and it’s not even illegal. Just another social peril to be aware of in Chrystal Heights. But as Kiki was learning, it was only fun until you run into somebody who can turn it around on you.

                Blue hair bobbing, Kiki’s mouth continued stroking over my shaft. She wasn’t bad, just inexperienced. To be fair, of course, it was unlikely she ever had to go this far with any of her marks. With her ability to raise a man’s arousal to maximum levels, a stroke or two with her hand would be enough to leave her mark snoring. It was even possible she was giving her first blowjob ever.

                By using her power on me, she had given me the ability to use it on her. Being a power mirror, with the ability to reflect one’s power back at them, made it easy. And now I decided to turn her arousal all the way to maximum as I filled her mouth with my semen.

                She moaned around my cock, making me explode harder and longer. Her throat worked as she helplessly swallowed my seed, my throbbing dick not giving her a moment to catch her breath. Her orgasms would likely have been shrill had my cock not been in her mouth.

                After what had to be endless moments for Kiki, my ejaculation finally slowed, then stopped. Whimpering, Kiki swallowed the last of my thick semen and finally slid her mouth off my cock. Still on her knees, she looked up at me with wide eyes, a hand on her full belly, breathing through her mouth.

                Everyone in the immediate area applauded her efforts. Cheeks flaming, the heat-bunny leaped to her feet and fled.

                I chuckled and sat down. Kiki had put me in a better mood.

                “That was disgusting,” said a voice. “She should have beat your ass.”

                I chuckled and said, “Hello, Tempest.”

                Tempest was a five-and-a-half foot tall bundle of anger and bad intentions. She was dressed head-to-toe in black leather, denim and spikes, complete with black boots. Her arms were covered with sharp-lined tattoos and beaded bracelets that contained any number of hexes and protection spells, complementing the daggers strapped to her waist. Even her haircut was angry. What little hair she had, anyway, as her head was shaved almost completely smooth except for a two-inch wide strip of hair running from her forehead to the back of her head. All-in-all, she projected quite the intimidating picture.

                She was also the waitress.

                “Fuck you, Elliot,” she said. “I’m still not talking to you. What the hell do you want?”

                I grinned. “You’re not still mad about that poker game, are you?”

                Tempest glared at me. “You got me wasted on fucking Stoneberry Wine!”

                I gave her an innocent look. “I thought you liked wine.”

                “You know damn well Stoneberry Wine isn’t actually wine, dickhead! It’s fucking radioactive moonshine made to taste like wine! I couldn’t fucking walk for two days!”

                “It actually made you likeable, Tempest,” I said. “Almost…adorable, you know? Especially afterward, when we-“

                Tempest drew a dagger and pressed the point against my throat in the same movement. “Shut the fuck up, dickhead! Nobody knows about that, all right? Nobody! And it fucking stays that way or I stick this dagger right up your-“

                Craig’s voice suddenly said, “Tempest!”

                Tempest glared at Craig for a moment, then exhaled and sheathed her dagger. “Fine. What do you want?”

                It seemed imprudent to make any more references to anything non-drink related. “Let me have a shot of Diamond Cutter.”

                Tempest nodded, then turned and stalked away. I admired the way her hips moved, but I knew enough to keep my observations to myself.

*****

                A few minutes later, I was enjoying my drink in relative quiet. I entertained myself by listening to three men discuss their upcoming trip to San Francisco on their search for some artifact lost or hidden there in the ‘40s. Not that that was unusual. Chrystal Heights was a common stop for those looking to buy or sell objects of power.

                Then the lights dimmed and smoke began swirling around an unoccupied table in the middle of the floor. Still swirling, the smoke thickened, then thinned out and misted away. The lights regained their earlier intensity. Such as it was.

                Left in the remnants of the smoke were two figures sitting at the table. Both were robed and hooded, one in black, the other in red. Between them sat what appeared to be an ancient chess board. The various pieces were intricately carved and spread about the board, as if in mid-game.

                The figure in the black robes glanced around. No face could be seen in the darkness under the hood. The figure in black then nodded and a voice sounded from inside the hood. “Well chosen, old friend.”

                The red-robed figure gave a nod of acknowledgement. “Thank you,” he said. His voice, like the other, was low, but vibrant with power and knowledge, and it carried to all corners of The Electric Raven. “We are agreed then?”

                The black-robed figure said, “Agreed.”

                As the sound of the black-robed figure’s voice faded, a single red square appeared on the floor next to their table. The square expanded, growing larger, and then and other squares appeared, expanding from the original square. As the squares expanded, any chairs or tables in the way were simply moved by whatever unseen force was creating the checkered floor.

                Soon a ten-foot by ten-foot chess board occupied the space next to the table, the squares alternating red and black. Both robed figures nodded their satisfaction.

                “The battlefield is set,” said the figure in red. “Your move, old friend.”

                At any other establishment, this would be considered extraordinary. But here at [i]The Electric Raven[/i], it was merely unusual.

                The black-robed figure was silent for a moment. Then he moved a piece on the board and said, “Black knight attacks red rook.”

                A swirl of smoke appeared on the black figure’s side of the chessboard. Then the smoke cleared, revealing a cute cheerleader with a sweet smile and evil eyes. There was a horse-head on the front of her sweater and the words “Go Knights!” embroidered on the back.

                I glanced around. I recognized the cheerleader as one of a pair that had been discussing Emily Dickenson over shots of Jagermeister with a pair of nuns.

   ��            There was another swirl of smoke on the opposite side of the board. When the smoke cleared, a young woman stood in a paint-smeared smock, an easel standing in front of her.

                “An art mage,” murmured the black-robed figure. “An interesting move, old friend.”

                “I find your choice to be just as fascinating,” said the red-robed figure. “Shall we begin?”

                “Indeed.”

                And then the battle began.

                The cheerleader leaped forward and launched into a complicated series of backflips and summersaults. She seemed to be moving in all directions at once. Then she suddenly shot forward directly toward the art mage.

                The young woman had not been idle, however. Her paintbrush had been flying around the canvas at an incredible speed. The art mage suddenly stopped painting and reached out to touch the canvas. She made a single motion across the canvas just as the cheerleader’s attack arrived.

                The cheerleader leaped forward, the blade of her foot extended. It struck a trampoline that hadn’t been there a moment earlier. The force of her attack caused her to rebound high in the air. She landed on the ground with a loud thud.

                “She very nearly landed out of bounds,” said red robes.

                “Nearly is not the same as did,” said black robes.

                The art mage began working again on the now-blank canvas and the trampoline immediately faded away. The cheerleader struggled back to her feet. Then the art mage swiped across the canvas again.

                Immediately a battery of missiles appeared on either side of the art mage. One-by-one, they began launching, directed at the cheerleader.

[CONCLUDED IN PART 2]

[apfel07]

So heres a first report of the Gothenburg concert (16.03.2024)

Putting it under a cut cause it's kinda long

I met the nicest people ever (one of them I even knew from Vienna omg) and I got a bunch of gifts and made some friends. If I tried to tag everyone I met I would definitely forget a few people, so I think you know who you are 

Jan just casually walked by with his silly headphones and everyone was very respectful and then I got to give him my calculator and he signed it (my calculator has a picture of him I drew and it says “Jan Peteh is proud of you” and he said he confirms that statement)

Someone else asked him how he does his hair and he kinda just said: “I don’t really brush it”

Again, I talked to the NICEST people

Had some issues with the no bag rule, but it worked out

Got a very nice spot in about 4th row on Kris side

They played ASTP and ngvot for soundcheck and then Bojan left and all the others played a part of Everybody’s Waiting

The first opener was sooo good, they were such a nice person and the songs were so good! They also played a swedish cover of Carpe Diem and when everyone did the Ah Ah and the tagatagatagatata they were so happy it was adorable

The second opener was also very good, I just missed a lot of it because I got a really bad stomach ache

I loved all their outfits, but Kris sweater was especially slay, it had really cool lace sleeves and I also looved Jure’s outfit

Tokio was so fucking good. Bojan started singing it on my side and he basically sung at me and when he got a tiara he immediately put it on Kris

Okay the songs will be out of order I’m too tired to do them in order

After Demoni, Bojan asked if we let all our demons out and then he specifically said: “Nacko did you let all your demons out?” and when Nace said yes, Bojan grabbed a Shark hat, said Nace deserves it, then put it on him. Then he said that Nace looked gorgeous and Nace said “Do I?” and they giggled and it was the cutest thing ever holy

One girl had a sign saying she made a choreography for Umazane Misli and so Bojan let her go on stage so we could all see her and her choreography was so so cool

During Umazane Misli, when Bojan did the karaoke (which was so cool by the way, so many people sang in swedish and other languages, I loved it) Vita filmed Jan and Nace on stage and they really posed for the camera, giggling and playing each others instruments. Then they proceeded to shuffle around synchronized and then Kris joined in.

Bojan’s swedish pronunciation is… interesting, he tried so hard to pronounce Göteborg but failed repeatedly even after people told him how

There were a lot more little BoNace moments, I loved it so much

There are definitely so many more things that happened, but I am too tired to think of them right now, I might update this tomorrow.

But yeah this concert was so fucking amazing, I will never get over it.

[yeontaescumslut]

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 “SWIM”

pairing: yeonjun x beomgyu x readerx2

Genre: non - idol au, smut

Synopsis: INTEREST CHECK!!! (Would you want more of this)

Warnings: none yet

Word count: 835

authors note: This is just an interest check to see if anyone would be interested in this story! If so please leave a note or comment!

Reader one pov

Today started like any normal day, you and your best friend had college classes all day and then work later on in the day. You both worked the same job at the local Boba shop. Luckily today you were both on schedule at the same time, those are the best shifts but also the worst because you never get anything done.

Obviously you both plan to buy tickets, the closest tickets to the stage possible, you just had to see them up close. You both secure your tickets for the show, which was in a week from that day….Time flies and before you know it, it’s time for the concert. You and your best friend are wearing “I ❤️ my Bf” shirts with your favorite member in the center of the heart. Yours is a picture of Taehyun and Hers is a picture of Beomgyu. On the bottom you both are wearing the shortest shorts you could find, mainly because the concert was in the middle of summer…definitely not for any other reason.

The both of you had barricade tickets, you don’t know how you managed to score barricade tickets but you weren’t complaining. You were both so excited for the show to begin and just when you’re least expecting it the lights dim and 5 silhouettes appear on the stage. The lights turn on and you can clearly see the boys now. Yeonjun directly in your line of sight along with Beomgyu… you’ve always been a Taehyun Stan but in that moment Yeonjun took your breath away…his plump soft lips, his pearl skin, his brown hair looking as soft as silk… you don’t notice but your best friend taps you on the shoulder and tells you he’s staring directly at you, very noticeably at that. You finally snap back to reality and notice as well that yeonjun is definitely eyeing you down. He eventually gets caught up in his performance and makes his way back to the other side of the stage. You forget about yeonjun for the moment because Taehyun comes to your side and Is definitely interacting with you. Before you know it yeonjun makes his was back to your side of the stage and you’re reminded just how “excited” he made you.

Reader 2 pov

being too caught up with affiliating with your best friends affair you were too distracted to notice how Beomgyu had not only refrained from moving away from your side of the stage, but has found himself a seat on the edge of the stage almost directly in front of you as his other members get comfortable frolicking around the stage or find other places to sit and interact with fans. Once you leave the land of delusional affairs, you are met with his melanin filled skin glistening from sweat as the sun beats down on him like no tomorrow (hehe). The way his face lifted in amusement once he saw you were now finally looking at him was more than enough to make your heart falter, noting the way his eyes glanced down to your breast..that had his face printed it bold ink on it made his top lip curve up into a smile before flashing you a quick wink. you re-adjusted your posture flustered, hanging onto the barricade for any more support you needed after that occurrence.

Soon enough the sun set and the concert was moving into some of the last segments of the show meaning the boys would change into the more casual outfits consisting of their own tour merch and ripped jeans. those fucking ripped black skinny jeans clung desperately to soobins thighs that have not left your sight since they stepped back out on stage. you wouldn’t know how obvious it was that you were staring at his lower portion that you just so happen to be almost eye level with rather than his upper half but this became more apparent to you when he bent down right in front of you to catch your gaze. singing his next line straight into your soul, right after licking the sweat off his upper lip with a smile before regaining his standing position, eyes still on you waiting to see if you’ll follow him up this time. which thankfully you did seeing that it was probably best you didn’t stare at his thighs right fucking in front of him. if only he knew just what you were thinking about doing with them specifically.

* NOTE*

Thank you so much for taking the time to read this, this is a collaboration with my best friend. We are writing this together in our own POVS. We hope you enjoy!

[cherryberg]

Also. This is your sign to introduce an OC. Here and now

hi ardate :] this is a bit late but, since i did it, i might as well introduce her now in this post

for my april fool's day joke, i did a little trick on the find everything discord server where i made a handful of screenshots showing a new (fake) character:

this is Myla Warper, a Whatsit Woods NPC

i don't have much on her at the moment, and i suspect a lot about her lore will become obsolete when 0.3 comes around, but essentially, she's an engineer and the inventor of the Warp, the in-game fast travel system. she spends a lot of time at home, but is getting out a little more, using the Warp and a range of mobility aids

she managed to trick a few folks (which, looking at how the first find everything hoax, wouldn't've been a hard thing to pull off) but, shortly after - though, in retrospect, it could've been left revealed until the end of the day, i revealed the prank with:

anyway, i'll put the fake screenshots under the cut and maybe post Myla concepts in a reblog :] + notes. there'll be notes. i've got notes

i don't remember when exactly i conceptualised Myla, but it might've been between when 0.2 was released and when the developers streamed their 0.2 launch stream a few days later. this is because i had this thought of Myla living in that old abandoned house, working away at her tech (in the early stages, Myla's outfit in my mind would be a the classic tanktop and half-worn jumpsuit where the top half was tied around her waist, you know the look), but obviously had to be just a fun scrapped idea when it was discussed on the stream that Old Man Majig lives there

still, Myla being hidden away in this corner of Whatsit Woods is reminiscent of that idea i guess. it is also just a very good spot for something you could've missed, especially since the community had been combing through save files looking for the second fun value, but it does sort of make her following dialogue a little strange as she's not near any Warp pads

this bit is meant to, like, mirror dialogue from "tutorial NPCs" who casually introduce new concepts to the player. having worked hard on drawing Illie last year for Halloween, i had her a lot in mind, with Illie also being a tutorial NPC. looked over her 5 lines of dialogue a lot to try and get the vibe down right (of course, she wasn't the only one, but she was the main one) .. i can wrap my head around the Find Everything art style, but writing stuff that matches the FE vibe got me stumped so i hope it didnt stand out all that much

originally, those first two lines where different and. stiffer for a long while ("I actually make a few Warp Drives myself!"/"Er… Let's not be humble, maybe more than a few. Maybe all of 'em."), but i think it worked out in the end. the very first bit of dialogue was also changed ("Hey there, blockling! Just on a walk.") to just be combined with the next line but i just really wanted to preserve that "blockling" here. i know it's just the species name of like. the Roblox character, but it also reads as a little endearing term to me

ahh, the reason why i sort of thought up Myla in the first place. see, a big contention in the find everything community is Whatsit Woods being the only major area in the game without a Warp Drive, despite there already being Warp pads by its entrances in two neighbouring areas. the lack of a Whatsit Woods Warp is very likely to be changed with the 0.3 map rework, but i always thought this (and the Construction Zone Warp.. ) discourse was stupid. Myla going "No. Why? I live here." is like. cathartic to me.(??)

but regardless, she and Watcher Macallit are kind of ocs born from asking "why is this the way it is?" why is there no Whatsit Warp Drive? what makes a Thing a Thing? just ocs to play with and sort of expand worldbuilding, and i love doing this

[gudvina]

The things I do to keep you near.

Ship: Effie Trinket/Haymitch Abernathy

Fandom: Hunger Games

Chapter 10: The bliss of ignorance.

Can be read on AO3. <3

74th Hunger Games, part eight.

The music boomed in her ears, reverberating in her chest. Haymtch and her lined up beside Faustina and Chaff, while Ceasar enthusiastically welcomed them onto his stage. She smiled and waved, adding a little sway to her walk as they made their way to their designated places. The audience’s volume heightened. It was louder than it usually was for Twelve, and Effie was electrified. Finally, it was their moment. She was going to make sure nobody would forget it.

Twelve was the last District to be interviewed, so Effie got comfortable in one of the chairs and was followed straight away by Haymitch, who sat by her right. Ceasar also took his seat, inviting the first team. Corinthia and Cashmere. District One’s strategy, this year, was to entice the audience’s fantasies, it seemed. Not only where the tributes were concerned, evidently.

The two could only be described as sexy, with matching dresses that left little to the imagination, covering only the important parts with rhinestones. Without the cameras shoved in her face, she would have wrinkled her nose. They were pretty, but so overdone for them, and she found the whole thing distasteful. It wasn’t the occasion for those dresses.

The interview went fantastically though, as it usually was with One’s team. They worked well together, and Ceasar managed to hold up to their suggestive teasing; it was fresh, a little sexy, and the audience had tons of fun whenever Cashmere and Corinthia asked each other if the rhinestones on their dresses were falling off.

It was smart. Glimmer was gone, and Marvel wasn’t that interesting, they needed to keep the audience enthralled with the District rather than the specific tribute. It would still attract sponsors without having to make up for their tributes’ weaknesses. The Careers’ special power.

Enobaria and Giustiniana were next. They hadn’t gone all out with their outfits or their hairstyles, and they seemed quite relaxed around Ceasar. Friendly, even.

“I have no idea what they’re capable of. Giustiniana and I were surprised by the training score! Only the Gamemakers have seen their best, but it wouldn’t surprise me if there will be more for us to discover”, the mentor said, smiling at the cameras with her sharpened dentures.

Then came Router and Marcia, District Three’s team. Unlike Beetee and Wiress, in the rare times she did mentor, Router went all-in. He made his remaining tribute sound greater than he was. It was his strategy, and it never changed. Sometimes it worked.  More often, it failed miserably. Marcia wasn’t parsimonious with her words either and she couldn’t say she was convinced.

She felt Haymitch shift while Router was talking.

“This asshole hasn’t learned his lessons”.

“Language”, she hissed.

Router mentored sporadically, but Haymitch had noticed years ago a pattern to his years; somehow, their tributes either died instantly at the Cornucopia or, as he liked to put it, were targeted by Gamemakers. She wouldn’t know why, but Haymitch told her they probably found it amusing.

When she studied at the Academy, it hadn’t crossed her mind that the events in the arena might be deliberate. Calculated for interest’s sake, maybe, but weaponized against a certain set of tributes sounded unfair. Eventually, she saw it as well. Years after years, anytime it was Router’s turn, his tributes became the subjects of all kinds of calamities. It seemed casual, but it happened far too often for it to be a coincidence.

Effie looked toward the Gamemakers’ seats. Seneca sat there. His posture was only proper; straight back, hands interlocked right in front of him. His skin was pale, and his expression was only ever disrupted by the occasional upturn of his lips. He met her eyes once, but she turned away.

Finnick and Vesta showed up in mourning for their gone tributes, dressed soberly yet elegant. They looked tired but didn’t hesitate to remember their tributes, and she felt a shiver creep down her back. It made her think of the many times she had been in Vesta’s place. Finnick certainly held himself up better than Haymitch, but the faint dark circles in his eyes betrayed his signature act.

Vesta, instead, wasn’t very talkative. It was her second mandate, and while she excelled in her escorting duties, the deaths were still a little hard for her. She’d seen it before, plenty of times. It didn’t last long. The first years were the hardest to go through, but morphling, disinterest, or selective attention were the usual coping mechanisms. The deaths become background noise, she’d heard Gratiana say once.

 They never were, to her.

Before she knew it, Chaff and Faustina’s turn arrived. Effie sat straighter. The duo’s dynamic was always fun, and not the kind she and Haymitch had played, inadvertently, for a decade. No, it was purposeful, like watching a curated comedy show that everyone liked. Chaff joked, and his infectious laughter transferred to Faustina, who assisted the audience. When she laughed, everyone did.

Chaff didn’t take his tribute seriously, but he joked about them in a way that wasn’t derisive, and instead highlighted their strengths. Effie could tell where Gloria had shaped him.

Eleven’s three minutes were over all too soon, and in a moment Effie and Haymitch were getting up, invited to the podium by Ceasar. “And here goes the hottest Team of the edition! Welcome Effie Trinket and Haymitch Abernathy for District Twelve!”, he boasted to the audience.

Haymitch, in an uncharacteristic bout of chivalry, helped her climb the steps and, given her vertiginous heels, she was glad about it. He only sat once she was, letting his hand stray away just a few inches from her own.

“Well, well, this year I find you two well, don’t I?”

“Why yes, Ceasar! We are very content with our tributes” she beamed, letting her voice take a syrupy tone she seldom used. It was meant for the times of need, a strategy her mother had taught her years prior. If you want it, this voice will provide it. Or someone for it.

“I can see that, Effie! Haymitch, these new tributes have been a pleasant surprise for you as well, weren’t they?”

“Can’t say I expected it, but they were hardly a surprise. They’ve shown time and time again how well they work together. Katniss is usually the arm, the more practical one. She might outshine Peeta on the combat side, but strategy-wise the boy’s got it too”.

“You can discern his attention to detail in his camouflage skills. He’s observant, sees things in ways I can confidently say no other does” she quipped in. She was thankful that Haymitch had started with Peeta. Maybe it was for her sake, but she would make the most of it.

“Maybe we have an artist in our hands”, Casar smiled, “but we all know who’s the artist’s flaming muse! What do you have to say about Katniss? We’re all curious”.

“She’s the Girl on Fire. But not just any fire, don’t mistake it for the kind of flame that warms your hearths on a cold winter night, or the flame that burns in our coal factories. She will burn and will explode as she pleases, all you gotta do is give her the right matches”. Haymitch’s answer went straight to the point, and Effie felt a surge of pride grow and settle in her breast.

“Oooh, I’m feeling hot in here. Can the flame be cooled down?”.

“You can hardly contain fire, can you? It can be extinguished, or even weaponized, but it’d be impossible to lower its temperatures”, she smiled, feeling the nation’s eyes all over her. It had been a few years since the last time she had gotten that much attention, so she decided to introduce their alliance, not wanting to waste time,

“It can also be nurtured. From the moment we saw Katniss and Rue together, our Teams saw the potential. Rue is just like quicksilver. She moves rapidly and doesn’t seem to be burnt by the flame. Haymitch, Chaff, Faustina and I are extremely curious to see where this adventure will take them”.

“An alliance! It’s been a while for Twelve, hasn’t it?”

“Yes, and it was about time” Haymitch smirked, but was less confident than he was letting on. He didn’t have his flask at hand, and had already dunked down his glass of water. She sensed his craving for something stronger. It was almost over, she thought.

Almost.

“It really was! Things seem to be looking up, but we still remember the Reapings. Did you get hurt, Haymitch?”, Ceasar asked, and this time Effie saw some regret in the conducer’s face. It didn’t come from him. Somebody else had suggested that question. She suspected it was Seneca, and decided that she wouldn’t let him steal their thunder.

“I went to check on him at the clinic, but I can’t say I found him doing too badly. He was his usual displeased self, and had scared half the nurses!”, she smiled, acting as coy as possible.

“Really? You almost asked if I’d left something in my will for you! And, for your information, the answer is still not”.

“Oh, he’s insufferable”, she pursed her lips and turned towards the spectators with feigned irritation. Usually, she was more genuine in her displeasure with Haymitch’s rudeness, but his answer and her reaction had generated the desired effect.

“You two are always a gem to be with, dears, but unfortunately our three minutes are up. I hope I will see you soon!”. Ceasar’s wishes seemed genuine, so she smiled and professed the same, taking charge of the parting.

They walked back to their spots and waited for Ceasar to announce the end of the Teams’ interviews. Right after them, Seneca and other Gamemakers would have theirs. She thought for a second that his eyes had lingered on her, but even if that was true she wouldn’t have been able to talk to him. Frankly, she didn’t even know if she wanted to. 

When the theme rang again, they were all ushered behind the stages. The prep team freed them from the microphones and invited them to sit at the tables for refreshments. Haymitch and Chaff were already eyeing a table where bottles of booze were laid out, and even though she usually wouldn’t have indulged them, she couldn’t see the harm after they had behaved so well. Faustina didn’t care much, but Effie, watching them take their seats, made a mental note to take notice of their alcohol intake. Just in case.

She felt a finger tap her shoulder, and when she turned she saw Corinthia. She held a cocktail in her left hand, swirling it occasionally with the other. She looked beautiful. Her tattoos glittered under the dim lights and revealed themselves in her collarbone and her arms, with intricate shapes accentuating her skin.

“That question, the one about your Victor”, she started without artifices, “It didn’t sound like something Ceasar would ask. It’s not the first time Abernathy behaves like he’s paid to do a shit show, anyways”.

Corinthia was a great actress, but in her personal life she wasn’t one to mince words. She was being rude on purpose, and for once Effie didn’t mind, reading in her words what she wasn’t saying.

“I thought so, but I wasn’t fazed”.

“No, you handled it quite well. I am just surprised. Of all the things they could’ve picked on it had to be the drunkard”. They. Did everyone assume it was the Gamemakers? She couldn’t believe anyone, apart from Seneca, could be behind it, and she didn’t like to think otherwise. The Gamemakers had no reason to target Haymitch.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but thanks for the compliment. You also did well, I like the matching outfit with Cashmere”, she answered, trying to sound unaffected.

“Thank you, thank you” Corinthia waved her off, as if she couldn’t be bothered to hear them, “I actually hate this dress, it itches like crazy. Damn stylists”.

She left, ending the conversation just as suddenly as it had started, and she turned towards Haymitch, finding his eyes already on her. She smiled sweetly, but was soon distracted by Blight and Cashmere, who approached her to compliment her look. Just like that, all thoughts of Gamemakers and treason talk fled her mind.

***

Haymitch gulped his drink, sinking deeper in his chair. His throat didn’t feel as parched as it had been during the interview, but it would take more than just a few glasses to reassess him fully. His attention wasn’t on the booze, though.

“Blight is not stupid, ‘Mitch, he’s not going to make a pass for your escort”. Chaff leaned over to refill his glass, in hopes of distracting him from Effie and her red dress. He just snorted in response. He had many problems at the moment, but Blight was far from them.

Cashmere touched the hem of Effie’s dress, and even though Haymitch couldn’t tell what the latter was saying, his head was a whirlwind of her voice. It went on and on about the fabric, the hem, and the stitching. Just like it did when he was in Twelve, and she wasn’t there. He settled with his memory or his imagination.

He had thought of fixing his phone, especially after their marriage. She had been the first to suggest it at the very start of their affair, even offered to see to it herself, but he had refused and now it was too late to take it back. He wasn’t proud of the way his mind stored her voice, the bell-like sound of her laughter, reproducing it almost effortlessly. It was never quite right, but it worked. At least, until he had the real thing in front of him.

“Gotta give it to her, though, she’s good”, his friend continued, and he took a sip of his drink, turning towards him with a smirk.

“She’s got her ways. Yours ain’t too bad either”. It was a fine concession, but not exactly accurate. He had stifled Effie’s talents for years, mostly because of her tendency to attach herself to whatever tribute, but even when she gave her fifty percent, it always outdid everyone else’s one hundred.

Or maybe, he was just biased.

“Yeah, but we both know who stole the scene tonight. Faustina is quite content with her share”, his friend trailed off, and then continued, “By the way they didn’t miss the occasion to remind everyone of your fall, huh?”

“Fuckin’ assholes, I bet One or Two are behind it. Effie spun it around, though, and maybe it’s better like that. Wouldn’t want to appear too set on”. Unlike Router, he wanted to say. But he didn’t.

“That’s the spirit. And look at Effs; still got her moment of attention, and damn if she’s enjoying it”.

He turned back to where Effie, Blight, and Cashmere stood. While they had been distracted, the three were joined by Finnick and his escort. His friend had only seen Effie’s armour, her big, bright grin, but he knew what was behind it.

Her hand softly covered Finnick’s wrist as she spoke, studying him closely. She was searching for signs of distress or pain, but the boy was just tired. Eventually, Finnick also held onto Effie’s wrist and led her towards a table. They sat closely, exchanging what he could only describe as hushed whispers, but couldn’t guess what the subject of the conversation was.

“Does the boy really want to switch escorts?”

“Yeah, he asked once or twice”.

“Once or twice?”

“Alright, more than once or twice. The answer’s still no”.

“I’m not even sure the Gamemakers would let that happen”, Chaff shrugged, amused by the idea.

His words made him think of Seneca Crane, and he looked up at the screens. The man was still sitting by the Gamemakers’ area, waiting for his interview. Had it been just the year prior, Haymitch would’ve probably mocked him for his beard and the ridiculous shapes it was styled in. After his threats, his appetite for humour had sobered.

He wanted to shrug them off as the jealous fit of a spoiled brat. He really did. But a Gamemaker’s warning came rarely without consequences. All that worry left him with unpleasant sleepless nights, and a stronger urge to drink himself away and let the events wash over him, like he had always done. To let the Capitol win. It would have been so easy.

It would have killed him just right.

But Effie was essential to him in a way no other human being had ever been, and he had married her. He could still see her like she had been that night; in her pink gown, chewing confusedly on the toasted bread. He hadn’t sworn to his vows out loud, but he knew they hung somewhere between now and that final kiss with which he had sealed their union.

If he wasn’t strong enough to fight for himself, he would do it for her. He could do it for her.

He stayed for another while, watching the Gamemakers’ interviews with Chaff, until Effie finally pulled him away. She claimed he had had enough to drink, but he knew it was probably an excuse, so he just grumpily got up. If he had to be honest, he was glad to leave.

In the elevator, she looked at him with tired, liquid eyes, and his heart tightened at the sight.

“I hope you’re not too upset, but I didn’t want to sleep alone”, she whispered. She still asked him, sometimes. As if he was in any position to deny her anything, let alone sharing a bed. He had to remind himself often that she didn’t know, and that it was better if it stayed like that.

“I was getting bored”, he shrugged, “what did Finnick want?”

“He talked to me about Annie, Mags called him and said she had another episode yesterday. She was doing a little better, and he’s quite devastated”.

“She’s gonna pull through. Is she still taking care of those fishes?”

“Yes, she is. Oh, I simply wish I could help, Haymitch”.

“She’s got Mags, she’s going to be fine. Remember where wanting to help led you two years ago?”, he smirked, referring to Johanna Mason. The girl’s first year as a mentor had been hard, and, despite her outward cruelty, Effie had tried to approach her, wanting to offer a hand. That was before the girl threatened to bite it. Quite literally.

“Johanna is a child, Haymitch. A terribly rude child who needs to learn her manners, but you can hardly blame her”.

“Yeah, yeah, call her a child to her face and then we’ll see”.

“I shan’t! If I can help it, I won’t ever talk to her again”.

He was satisfied. He was fine with her mothering instincts being limited to Four’s Victors and the children, especially if he considered Johanna’s hatred for the Capitol and its people. It baffled him that Effie could see that girl and use the word child so casually, but if they stayed apart it was one less problem for him to worry about.

“Good. My room or your room?”

“Whichever is the closest”, she covered her mouth and yawned. It was a casual slip of her mask, one that only happened when they were alone and she was tired, but he cherished it for its rarity. Instinctively, he held her close. And, until they reached their floor, he didn’t let go.

[whenitsdarkweilluminate]

Luxembourg 1984

Host: Luxembourg Participants: 19 Voting method: 12-point system (juries only) Winner: Herreys - Diggi-Loo Diggi-Ley Country: Sweden Language: Swedish Points: 145 (67.1% of highest score possible)

General Overview:

The production feels more modern this year. The presenter is 19-year-old Désirée Nosbusch, who has an unusually casual approach for the time. She's an efficient host too, since this year's runtime is roughly 2h15m. The postcards feature 1980s 3D animations that look horribly dated in an amusing way. The interval involves a dude interacting with a crudely animated horse. And the 1984 contest embraces big hair, synthesizes, and those hexagon drum kits.

The stage design is improvement from 1983, but literally anything would be. However, I don't like that we've returned to these big distracting objects in the background. There's an arrangement of mobile floating geometric shapes. Plus staircases on either side. This stage design should've been left behind in the 70s.

That said, Eurovision still embraces its own legacy/nostalgia, as the show opens and closes with the orchestra playing a medley of Luxembourg's 5 winners + “L'amour est bleu”. I find that pretty neat. I wish more of these older contests would acknowledge the winning song that brought the contest to this country. Luxembourg were masters at creating melodic French ballads. But it also signals the end of an era; because, aside from Celine, no other French ballad has won since then. And Celine's song had '80s elements in it anyways.

Ireland returns but Greece and Israel (due to a national holiday) are out again. Also, it's funny how Carola and Linda Martin reached top 3 in consecutive years... because they'll also win in consecutive years.

Otherwise, this seems like a forgettable year? There's still a good amount of songs I like, but there's at least 8 I don't care about. And why do so many lyrics mention trains? It's also difficult to find good quality audio of this year.

Sweden: Herreys - Diggi-Loo Diggi-Ley (winner review below)

Luxembourg: Sophie Carle - 100% d'amour These vocals are AWFUL. I keep wincing at every missed note. Luxembourg clearly weren't winning back-to-back this time. Sophie's cutesy tone makes the song seem cheesy too. The lyrics are full of clunky metaphors. But basically, she's sick of bad news and heartbreak songs, so she wants to spread “100% love” and change people's perspectives. The only positive aspect is the '80s synthpop production, with the dramatic bangs, guitar hops, and elastic-y chorus.

France: Annick Thoumazeau - Autant d'amoureux que d'étoiles I always forget about this song. It's nothing new from France. The verses are gentle; while the chorus amplifies the drums/vocals/strings, with some catchy “il y a”s and a double punch. Then the sax appears later on. But I don't like that switch into the post-chorus longing. In the lyrics, Annick is confused about which way is right or wrong. But this person makes her happy regardless. She says the world is beautiful if you pay attention.

Spain: Bravo - Lady, Lady A comforting folk song and some catchy “lady lady lady”s puts Spain in the top 3! I like the storytelling, where this lady wastes years of her life, foolishly hoping this guy returns. The lyrics are very descriptive as well. The song's calming vibe conveys her delusion. I also like the acoustic guitar and '80s drum rhythm, the backing echoes, the stop when the chorus begins, and how the chorus intensifies midway (with the backing “ahhhh” and the singer's agonized vocal). The bridge bangs are effective too.

Norway: Dollie de Luxe - Lenge leve livet The staging is memorable for the karate outfits, but why are they wearing them? The arm swinging also reminds me of Belgium '83. Moreover, the vocals are kind of a mess. That opening scream hurts my ears. And the song is so flat. There's a consistent drum beat, some celebratory chorus horns, a mid-chorus rev-up, and the verse 2 guitar ricochets. But meh. The lyrics advocate for the preservation of life in this violent world.

United Kingdom: Belle and the Devotions - Love Games This sounds exactly like a Supremes song. The harmonies, their signature stomping beat, the very prominent backing ad libs, the liberal usage of “baby”, the spoken word “oh darling”, the bells. The lyrics keep it simple as well, where Belle asks why did this guy lead her on. It's camp, but I enjoy it as a tribute act. The drum shake transitions are also effective. And the song is pretty catchy (“baby, baby, why!... ooooh!”) I don't like how Laura and Linda stand backwards for so long though. Allegedly they were lip syncing.

Cyprus: Andy Paul - Anna Maria Lena Well, this is bland and forgettable AF. Nothing in the instrumental or melody pulls me in. The strings, the twinkle bells, the “Aaaaaaanna”s, the “oooh”-ing bridge, and the “Aaaaaaanna .. MARIA LENA!” hooks fail to make impact. The only memorable aspect is Andy's hair. And the lyrics are nothing special – he's just in love with this “Anna Maria Lena” girl.

Belgium: Jacques Zegers - Avanti la vie I guess this entry is creative, but it creeps me out: the blank, zombie-like stares into the camera, the swaying, Jacques' tense deep vocal, the backing whispers, and the shadow lighting at the beginning. Plus how the instrumental is so static. The lyrics command us to keep moving forward in life and be free. Which is why the bass and drums persistently march forward through the whole song; with guitar reverberations in between. It can be hypnotic, but in an unrelenting way.

Ireland: Linda Martin - Terminal 3 Finally Ireland tries something different. The song's various switch-ups are really effective. The verses are urgent, featuring some guitar growls. While the sudden bursts of “TERMINAL 3: FLIGHT'S ON TIME” really grab attention. I like the horns that follow it. That chorus is super short and it sounds like an ad jingle. But it's enough to ease the tension. There's also a couple of daydream-y bridges and the anticipatory horn/drum intro reappears. I should note Johnny Logan wrote this. The lyrics follow Linda's anxious mind as she's about to reunite with her long distance partner at the airport. He asked for her to meet him there. There's plenty of plane and airport references too.

Denmark: Hot Eyes - Det' lige det The first of the duo's 3 appearances. The song isn't groundbreaking, but it's very cheerful, the chorus is catchy, and their interactions by the piano are cute. Kirsten also pushes Søren away during the key change, and he kisses her forehead at the end. In DMGP, she actually shoved him into a pool. In the lyrics, Søren's arrival cheers Kirsten up on a rainy day. He nervously uses the word “love”, then they run in the rain. Musically, there's a bouncy, foot-tapping groove, some whistle transitions, and a mid-verse piano jolt. The backing also emphasize the chorus nicely.

Netherlands: Maribelle - Ik hou van jou A slow ballad, but a gorgeous one. The orchestra builds in a captivating way, the melody really stands out, and Maribelle's tone is bittersweet. She really needs this person back and she offers her affection. The song moves at a steady and careful pace. It starts with just the piano, followed by the bass and strings. The chorus grows and intensifies, culminating in the cymbal crash. Then the song softens back in the second verse, besides the strings. And those expansive 1950s-style strings drive the climax.

Yugoslavia: Vlado & Isolda - Ciao, amore The wedding bells, the rapid claps, and the “Ciao-ow amore-eh... CIAO LJUBAVI” hooks are infectious. But Vlado's raspy vocals are unappealing. And the song/performance seem overly serious. Particularly those bells, the super formal attire, and their interactions. The lyrics describe the day they had to depart, where Isolda was waiting for the train, but that's not important anymore. I guess they're back together. Otherwise, the verses have this quirky computerized sound, the mid-chorus switches to a tambourine, and there's a sax outro.

Austria: Anita - Einfach weg A basic '80s pop song. With a string intro. The chorus “whoa oh oh yeah”s and claps are kinda catchy. I noticed the camera cuts to the backing every time it happens. But that chorus is such a “that's it?” moment, and then the song just... ends anticlimactically. The lyrics are about needing a temporary escape for her mental health. Anita leaves without regret or needing anyone's approval. But she clarifies it's not because of the subject.

Germany: Mary Roos - Aufrecht geh'n Mary Roos returns after 12 years. The lyrics have a good message – she resolutely rejects her ex to prioritize her own well-being, even if it's not emotionally easy and she hasn't healed yet. She even walks away on stage at one point. But the composition is so bland. The chorus melody is too ordinary and does nothing for me. While the orchestra doesn't do anything noteworthy. She has a decent voice at least.

Turkey: Beş Yıl Önce, On Yıl Sonra - Halay Much better than Turkey's last 3 entries. I find this one intriguing; with the bass, the whip sound effects, the Turkish harmonies, the “Ha-al-ayyyy” hooks, the chorus horns, the sideways turns, and the hand holding. I just wish the chorus had more to it. The lyrics invite everyone to join this lively dance, no matter where you come from. There's even a short dance break. The group's stage presence is what sells this.

Finland: Kirka - Hengaillaan Finland copies Yugoslavia '83, but it's a fun entry regardless. The energy on stage makes me smile. And the song rotates through various catchy sections. There's the dramatic stops and triangle dings in the pre-chorus, the drum escalations, the flooding chorus melody, the “babada babada babada dododododo” hooks with the horns, and the backing “ha ha ha haha”s. Krika also pulls out the harmonica at one point. In the lyrics, his friend group misses the last train. But instead of stressing about it, they party all night long at the station. There's timestamp updates throughout. They even miss the morning train lol. I like the message.

Switzerland: Rainy Day - Welche Farbe hat der Sonnenschein? Boooooring. I immediately forget how this song goes after hearing Italy. The chorus harmonies are so 'blah'. The production is kinda '80s, but uhhh, that's all I got. The lyrics are pretty cheesy too. They wonder how to paint a picture of the world, because it has both beautiful qualities and war, hunger and misery.

Italy: Alice & Franco Battiato - I treni di Tozeur This is so 'out-there' in a strangely alluring way. It's the combination of the hypnotic '80s drum beat, the heavy strings, the deadpan delivery, the intense rising chorus melody, and the very random and unexpected opera singers in the bridge. Those opera singers also quote Mozart and wear Italian flag colours. I don't like when Franco creepily stands behind Alice, but it doesn't bother me as much as Belgium's creepiness. The title references a train track that the Tunisian king commissioned for himself; wasting government resources and endangering lives in the process. The lyrics describe a deserted, abandoned place.

Portugal: Maria Guinot - Silêncio e tanta gente The Portuguese Adele before Adele was even born. It's a very honest, personal, and beautiful piano ballad. The melody isn't the most accessible, and the backing vocalist is unnecessary, but Maria opens up completely in her performance. And I love when her voice expands and contracts. The lyrics are deep and introspective, where she notices love during the silence and finds her life's purpose among the crowd.

The Winner:

So Sweden racks up their second win during the 10-year anniversary of “Waterloo”. They actually weren't all that dominant in the intermediate years. Carola was the one who brought them back into the top 3 last year, and Sweden will land there again next year.

Herreys are a wholesome trio of brothers. While the lyrics are about one's life improving upon discovering a pair of golden shoes. The song title is also meaningless. So I wonder if this was meant as a joke, because the audience won't understand Swedish anyways. The Nordics could sing literal nonsense and no one would know back then. I say this because I get the impression the Nordics were tired of the language rule around this time - Herreys even switched to English midway through the winner's reprisal.

Regardless of the silly lyrics, “Diggi-Loo Diggi-Ley” is still a catchy bop. The '80s drum 'pew-pew's, the orchestra responses in the verses, the call-and-response between the brothers, the way the chorus pushes through, the chorus claps, the “diggi-LOO diggi-LEY” emphasis, and the key change are all effective. Herreys also appear bright and happy on stage. Their colour designated shirts, white pants and golden shoes are memorable; as is their coordinated arm choreography.

Buuuuuut it's still kind of a dumb song.

Verdict: "B" tier.

My points go to.... 01. Ireland: Linda Martin - Terminal 3 02. Italy: Alice & Franco Battiato - I treni di Tozeur 03. Finland: Kirka - Hengaillaan 04. Spain: Bravo - Lady, Lady 05. Netherlands: Maribelle - Ik hou van jou 06. Portugal: Maria Guinot - Silêncio e tanta gente 07. Turkey: Beş Yıl Önce, On Yıl Sonra - Halay 08. Sweden: Herreys - Diggi-Loo Diggi-Ley 09. Denmark: Hot Eyes - Det' lige det 10. United Kingdom: Belle and the Devotions - Love Games

11. Yugoslavia: Vlado & Isolda - Ciao, amore 12. France: Annick Thoumazeau - Autant d'amoureux que d'étoiles 13. Austria: Anita - Einfach weg 14. Germany: Mary Roos - Aufrecht geh'n 15. Norway: Dollie de Luxe - Lenge leve livet 16. Cyprus: Andy Paul - Anna Maria Lena 17. Luxembourg: Sophie Carle - 100% d'amour 18. Belgium: Jacques Zegers - Avanti la vie 19. Switzerland: Rainy Day - Welche Farbe hat der Sonnenschein?

[thehypotensivegrad]

The Adviser (25/45) | Bechloe Mafia AU

The Way of the Mafia (Chapter Preview - Read the rest at ao3)

The day for the seminar where Chicago was going to give a keynote address rolled in, with the days leading up to it going by relatively fast. Chloe and her friends have been hard at work in ensuring this was an afternoon to remember, and she was looking forward to how things would unfold.

She found a seat on the second level of the college auditorium where the seminar was going to be held, Aubrey right next to her. The two of them were mostly left alone on that seating level with only a scant few others scattered about in their level, and most of the audience sitting on the first level. Aubrey focused on her phone and coordinating with everyone else from the tower working with them on their "mission," leaving Chloe to her thoughts. She was a bit peeved that she didn't get the chance to see Beca earlier that day, as she claimed to be busy with a surprise, so she was looking forward to watching Chicago flail on stage when they enact their plan even more. She was, admittedly, also both curious and looking forward to the surprise Beca had promised her.

It was ridiculous. They see each other every day, but since she's moved back to her own place, she could feel the absence of Beca's presence grow intolerably more and more each day.

Chloe huffed when she saw Chicago walk in surrounded by her posse of the Kommissar, Pietro, and his bumbling brother, Theo. He was dressed in some chic business casual ensemble, a light gray coat looking suit paired with the same-colored pants, and a white shirt underneath matched with a pair of white sneakers. He was giving off a humble but wealthy aura, which was what he wanted his image to be in the first place.

Chloe sick to her stomach seeing him again in person now that the truth has become known to them. She's managed to avoid him for the last few weeks since he's been silent on his end from the moment Beca uncovered who he really was. She simply can't believe that she ever considered him a friend. Who would have thought he was someone so sinister underneath the charming and goofy persona he evoked.

It didn't help that his outfit looked so clean and pristine when she knows just how stained his hands were with the blood of the innocent people he had hurt. From RDU-90, to BLSD, and pretty much everything else Babel. It didn't sit well with her how easy he had washed his hands off of any responsibility for his actions and avoided – more like bought – his way through facing any semblance of justice as a consequence to his actions.

They were introducing Chicago when Beca arrived, dressed all suave in a blue suit and a black long-sleeved shirt underneath. She paired the suit with the pants, and shirt with her sneakers just like Chicago and Chloe couldn't help but think how they were such polar opposites of each other. Beca was a mafiosa who could rule the underworld if she wanted and Chicago a – wrongfully – celebrated CEO basking in the glory of living in the light, with a – false – reputation and image everyone would want to have. Yet here they were, the villain was fighting for the people, and the person one would think to be a white knight was the true evil master mind.

As Beca sat down, she offered Chloe some popcorn from a bucket she didn't realize Beca carried in one hand. Where she got the popcorn, Chloe wasn't so sure of. There weren't any outside.

"Is this your surprise?" Chloe asked and Beca quirked her eyebrow at her.

"This isn't even nowhere near it," Beca replied. "I'm hurt you think I'll disappoint you like this, Beale."

Aubrey cleared her throat before Chloe could even make any witty comebacks. "Am I invisible here or are you going to offer me some popcorn too?"

Beca chuckled and handed her the bucket. Aubrey grabbed a handful before passing it back to Chloe who did the same, all while Chicago started prattling on and on about leadership, innovation, and how Babel would like to save the world with its endeavors starting with their plans of developing new electric vehicles from renewable resources. He snapped his fingers at the projectionist in his own room a level above where Chloe, Beca, and Aubrey sat to start a recorded video promoting Babel Motors latest projects and showcasing their electric vehicles.

Beca smirked when the feed started rambling. Aubrey looked at a message on her phone and confirmed Chloe's suspicions on why.

It was showtime.

[moraypower]

Frye, unsurprisingly, showed up to Spirale wearing her idol outfit, as seen on the left.

it's the outfit she's in most of the time, after all, and she feels very comfortable in it; we've seen her in it when she's off stage and off the air as well! the sleeveless crop top underneath the shawl does show a lot of skin though, which while great in the hot deserts of the Splatlands, it's less great in currently snowy Spirale.

we haven't yet seen her in many other outfits at all yet, to be honest, but the official art for the Spicy vs Sweet vs Sour splatfest (as pictured on the right, and the full picture can be found here) showed that she has more casual stuff that she wears occasionally as well, even if it's a bit hard to see it clearly here because of the angle. it looks like she's wearing a lavender hoodie or sweater of some kind, but again, it's hard to tell.

fashion is an extremely culturally important thing for inklings. if it's not fresh, then there's no point! therefore, while I do think she's picked up some clothing that is more appropriate for the climate in her time here, bold and bright colors are still a huge must for any outfit she wears, and I'm willing to bet that she keeps the golden squid-shaped charm and/or her orange headpiece from her idol outfit on her too no matter what she's wearing, in order to have at least one accessory that is unmistakably her.

she also wears a yellow and white ribbon with three charms dangling from it (squid, octopus and manta ray) tied around her left tentacle in Spirale, in the spot where she'd normally have those cords wrapped around it instead. she got this ribbon as a gift from Kay, and it means a lot to her, so she wears it very often.

[redpiperfox]

Local Red Found Almost Ded Following Twice MetLife Concert: a casual debriefing :3

This is me dump processing things I would seem insane if I tried and explained to my family, the poor casual kpop enjoyers (ie my parents who listen for our sakes at limited intervals and my sister who swears left and right off girl groups).

This is my/our first kpop concert ever and !!!

Things the non-Twice fans in my family enjoyed: "How are they so high energy?! The whole time?!" "[Insert Jihyo's high notes] O.O" "Oooh the sea of light sticks are so pretty! [My mom was so enchanted by it]"

I did feel the crowd itself sort of die near the end, towards the last songs and the encore stage, but otherwise, even and especially from the back, it was such an experience singing with 50,000 people! (Their screaming during the girls speaking annoyed me at some times but!) There is Something Else when everyone belts the Cry For Me chorus, and going off on "SOOOLLEMMMMYYY" during Nayeon's stage.

The beginning third group dances were the hits, and the middle third where the live band comes out from Feel Special were so high energy-- the last third they dressed down a little, to transition to their encore outfits, and felt more personal (?)

But I'm gonna focus on the solos because 😍🥰

Dahyun: The Let it Go to Try transition? The upper angle view of her hands on the piano? The aesthetics of the piano and her dress flowing out? The vibes were i m m a c u l a t e. It was also musically and thematically in the concert, a magical sort of moment to have the ballad right then-- even if she joked about it later and how she didn't hear cheers for her name (everyone took care of that and cheered her name then hehe). Speaking of, she was *the* moodmaker, crowd-hyper, and comedian of the evening-- she spoke in english most of the time, and even when she didn't her facial expressions spoke volumes, she was so sassy XD Made me remember when I was first getting into the group, and how her personality completely won me over. She was cracking jokes, rolling with the crowd, and dancing when the crowd started barking (speaking of: what? Why? O.o)

Tzuyu: She mentioned that her stage had the inspiration of Michael Jackson and-- yeah. Her solo stage had all the confidence and joy of her Me! Melody project, and her life in dancing was so so evident. She was so confident on stage, and every comment about her having no stage presence was lost whenever she had center positions and the screens focused on her face.

Sana: The song New Rules itself has always been written in my mind as Yeji's song (thanks The Fan), but the camera opening on the floor dance completely blew expectations away. I'd seen snippets before, but the choreo was so smooth and mesmerizing, and gave a taste of what I expect from the MiSaMo debut (more on that later). The Hair Flips. Yes.

Momo: I admittedly watched very little after she took her shirt off and started pole dancing. My dad said it was like a cirque du soliel show but... I was there with my parents and it was borderline sensual for me. But! Everytime Momo took a dancebreak, everytime she centered, she commanded attention, she was such a dancer in her element, and took everything more into her powerful and sharp style.

Mina: Maam stared the camera down, and had the confidence to level politicians. She approached sassy from the sly angle, and her solo stage showed how she could command a performance and demand attention. (I did not see her twerk do not ask me I looked away XD) MiSaMo performing right after each other, I sensed a theme in their solo stages that made me think it was settling into a more mature, seductive (?), and Woman concept for their debut. They teased a bit of the choreo at the end that all but confirmed it for me-- can't wait to see :3

Chaeyoung: So cute. So so sweet. The camera starting on her bunny-- when she sat and set up her guitar, everyone chanted her name. The only other softer song, her song was like a lullaby, and really touched her identity as a writer, and moreso as a composer. There's a lot of Soul in her songs, that are skimmed over the surface with fairy wings, and it was so sweet to listen to.

Jihyo: Freaking Jihyo. Never Ever dissappointed vocally or in stage presence and her solo just-- MM. She was alone on stage and even though she was the size of an ant, she made that stage burn, I could *feel* her powerwalks, I swear, when the lights went red on her and the holographic effects surrounded her, I was staring at her figure on the stage, and felt like I could *see* every little powerful step in Nightmare. She was the next biggest crowd-hyper, and carried all the Jihyo-energy the entire time, she teased us so much XD

Jeongyeon: Oh I can't even bring all the words to express how FUN. She had fun, the Juice stage was every essence of Jeongyeon's tongue-in-cheek humor and fun spirit. I loved her stage so much, and she had everyone bopping and cheering through the song. You could tell she was enjoying herself, and you really couldn't help but enjoy it with her.

Nayeon: The first notes of Pop played and everyone was screaming, it was as loud as the most popular songs, people absolutely *screamed* Pop, and Nayeon absolutely matched that energy, she did not hold back on her solo stage. She mentioned it later on how it felt to perform her solo song-- and I think she felt the screams of everyone belting her song back to her! She also kept mentioning how hot it was whenever she spoke, sorry for the humidity XD

All in all, was such an experience!!! Even from Timbuktu Seats the energy was high and the professionalism and grandeur of the stage was not lost. I did feel like the language barrier made it hard to have a deep connection with the artists and for them to connect as personally as they would normally, with the added problem of the crowd screaming and cutting off their speeches, but it didn't take away or lower the experience one bit. It was a lot of fun, and I had a blast!