#ray williams blurbs

[caraphernellie]

wip !! here's a moodboard <3

fake happy // e.w.

ellie williams is a freak, and that's just a fact. others deemed that she is not to be trusted from the moment she was born. in a world where everything is real and raw, it's hard to lie. but ellie doesn't quite fit into the category of 'real and raw.'

everybody's moods are displayed above their heads like little emoticons - there's no fake, there's no lies, there's simply emotion. except for ellie. nobody could figure out why ellie's feelings were not displayed. she'd been seen by every doctor, every specialist, every psychiatrist, and psychologist, and none of them knew what could cause this. and so an assumption was made that she doesn't feel anything.

nobody knows how she feels at any given moment, and in a world where people are spoiled with honesty, nobody wants to believe ellie isn't dishonest. nobody wants to be played by her.

somehow surviving life up to college without ever even having a friend, ellie's accepted that she's in for a lonely life. the only person she has is joel, and well, even he can be misunderstanding at times.

and ellie's sure her professor must hate her, because he partnered her for a project with the one girl who is always happy, without fail. the girl whose mood above her head is always, always, always a yellow smiley face. ellie would even say she's jealous, that she hates you, but she can't help but feel herself smiling whenever you're around. you're like a ray of sunshine. if sunshine knew how to lie.

ok ok ok so. i feel a little bit crazy and like nobody is going to like this fic but i kind of want to write it. this is just me posting to see if anyone actually would read it 😭 not like that would motivate/demotivate me but idk. im curious paramore inspired fics first of all, the best ones. secondly, i feel like maybe years ago i read a fic with a similar premise which inspired this but it's also mainly inspired by the music video for fake happy by paramore. and also, i always write fics about reader having the 'i can fix her' mentality for ellie so this time it's ellie saying 'i can fix her' about reader. this one would be for my fellow sad/anxious girlies who love big hurt/comfort vibes. it would be an angsty ride but not without lots of comfort :D two people who are very sad falling in love and helping each other with their issues? i think yes. this fic would be very? angst and hurt/comfort and some fluff idk if there'd be smut ... anyway this was more a way for me to brainstorm for the idea (by making the moodboard and blurb) i have yet to do literally any plotting or writing for it..

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 i stand with palestine, and for that reason, i require everyone on my blog to keep themselves educated and participating in the fight for palestine's freedom. here are some links to educate yourself- 1, 2, 3. the last of us part 2 in particular is a game with zionist background. do not support neil druckmann by buying any of the games and please continue to engage in your media with critical analysis!! stay educated. !!! i urge you to participate in the global strike for palestine from february 18th - 25th !!!

[baddestbittyontheblock]

ellie williams fic recs (3)

you are responsible for the content you consume‼️

✧*:·˚ hi everyone!! here is a list of all the fics that are my favs with tagged writers/authors ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ remember to like and reblog the works you enjoy in order to support each writer!! ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ however, make sure you read the information on each story themselves such as triggers & warnings ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ also, if you'd like me to remove your fic from this list, message me! ✧*:·˚

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

𖣦 drunk!ellie headcannons by @savannahsdeath drunk!college!ellie williams x reader | slightly suggestive, throwing up, obviously alcohol

-drunk!ellie who can't drink alone or she'd completely pass out.

𖣦 giving loser!ellie head for the first time by @moncherellie ellie williams x gn!reader | cunnilingus (e receiving, r giving), ellie's first time, fingering

-eating loser!ellie out is a religious experience

𖣦 pretty on camera by @evera-era ellie williams x afab!reader | tlou!au, slight coercion, dirty talk, oral e!receiving, fingering, spanking, ellie is kinda rough, sex tape !!

-you hear ellie’s footsteps behind you. she enters the bedroom you’re in, giving a small sigh. the two of you were currently on patrol, scouting a cabin. this route typically didn’t give you any problems; it could be a bit of a drag.

𖣦 teasing ellie over text by @elliesprettygirl ellie williams x reader

𖣦 victory lap by @elliesflower ellie williams x f!reader | rich!ellie, plus-sized female!reader, degradation (kinda), mean!ellie, vouyerism, semi-public masturbation(kinda?), ellie and reader are both perverted ngl

-It was yet another blazing hot day at the country club, the sun’s sweltering rays kissing the backs of your legs as you bent down to retrieve a fallen golf ball from the bright green turf, careful not to bend straight over so that your panties would be on full display for anyone who dared to walk behind you.

𖣦 smut blurb by @elstoy ellie williams x reader | smut

-anyone else ever think about being on ur knees for ellie mid patrol?

𖣦 small hands by @hunnylagoon ellie williams x reader | warning for mentions of postpartum depression

-people say that the magic disappears when you have children, that never applied to you and ellie, you are just as hopelessly in love as the day you were married. you celebrate christmas with your friends and family despite a few bumps in the road.

𖣦 ellie drabble by @dsybouquet ceo!ellie williams x fem!reader

-braindead about ceo! ellie who goes out with her managers for drinks after a day in the office. the first buttons of her white shirt open and the rest of her suit a bit losely, letting go of the work environment to enjoy herself.

𖣦 ellie blurb by @astralnymphh high!ellie williams x fem!reader | mdni!, smut

-bro high!ellie is the typa girl to strap you, lazily.

𖣦 camping by @elliespet modern farm!ellie x gf!reader | smut 18+, cursing

-on your anniversary, ellie sets up a special date. how sweet of her! no way she’ll act like a feral dog out here right.. right?

𖣦 random smut blurb by @scarleart ellie williams x fem!reader | smut

-can we just sit and talk for a moment about how ellie is a fucking feen for creamers????

𖣦 birthday girl by @mxlktxa ellie williams x fem!reader | language, (brief) 18+ content , alcohol use, modern!au, (brief) underage drinking (reader is turning 20, while ellie is 22)

-i placed my keys and bag right at the front door, leaning against the front door to mentally prepare myself for whatever ellie had planned for my birthday today.

𖣦 loser!ellie blurb by @seattlesellie ellie williams x reader

-loser!ellie calling u mommy while u ride her strap

𖣦 college basketball player!ellie drabble by @eroseas ellie williams x fem!reader | exhibitionism, getting caught masturbating (both ellie and reader)

𖣦 dealer!ellie williams by @astroels

-dealer ellie who's actually just a loser lesbian with too much love and money to spend

𖣦 ellie blurb by @lovergirlism ellie williams x reader | no warnings, just silly domestic fluff, ellie’s sexy and you like looking at her, reader is dramatic

-“what’s cookin’, good lookin’?”

𖣦 street racer!ellie headcannons by @phantombriide ellie williams x reader | fluff, smut, and angst if you squint, spin in a circle and really put your mind to it. mentions of joel dying, mentions of squirting, fingering, strap-fucking, nudity, um reader gets off on her gear shift..., reader also gets off to the vibrations of her car

𖣦 "what would you do if i went to touch you now?" by @louswrld11 ellie williams x f!reader | wlw relationship, moderndayau!, whiny ellie (dying), oral, fingering, ellie's a switch?? wow, face sitting (i literally screamed into my pillow), cuddling!!!, ellie begging??omg yes pls, reader being more of a dom, ellie being a bit of a brat. literally just lesbians

-ellie hates it when you're not paying attention to her

𖣦 clingy!ellie headcanons by @dumblilb ellie williams x f!reader | SMUT 18+ MDNI, oral and fingering (r!receiving), masturbation, weed, fluff, loser!ellie

[inferencesarchives]

`•- Cuddling with William

william ellis x gn reader

prompt: cuddling

warnings: physical touch (obviously)

a/n: day 2 of the valentines event!! just some headcanons for today cuz i can't really think of a blurb and i don't have a lot of time today :,,) i love william tho he's such a ray of sunshine he's so <33

first off, as everyone probably expected, he's VERY physically affectionate. whether it be hugging you, holding your hand, or anything else, he's often affectionately touching you whenever you're together.

he especially loves to hug you. he likes to feel your warmth up against him, and he always likes to hug you if you're feeling down! no matter how bad you might feel on a particular day, his hugs are always warm and comforting, and they always seem to make you feel even at least a tiny bit better.

whenever he's tired and ready to go to sleep, he lazily wraps his arms around your torso and drags you to bed with him. doesn't matter if your busy. whatever you were just doing can wait until morning, he's sleepy and wants to cuddle.

he's often the big spoon when cuddling. he just likes to hold you close to his chest as he drifts off to sleep. he's not opposed to being the little spoon, though, if you want it. he always prioritizes your wants and needs first, so he'll gladly become little spoon for the night if it makes you happy.

he falls asleep pretty quickly when you two cuddle. he pulls you close immediately after you both lay down, and as soon as you wrap your arms around him and do the same, he's out like a light.

he snores, but most of the time it's not too loud and doesn't disturb your sleep. most of the time. there's still a few occasions where you wake up to him snoring so loud you could practically feel the sound waves reverberating throughout your skull, though.

he has a hard time waking up in the morning. he just likes to hold you, and your warmth just makes him want to stay cuddling you in bed forever. you have to practically toss him out of bed most of the time.

even after you force him out of bed, he still tries to cling to you and pull you back. he just really likes cuddling you, and he wants to maximize his cuddle time every day. a lot of the time he just wants to lay in bed the whole day, and you always have to remind him that you both have matches to participate in. he always pouts at this, but he reluctantly nods in understanding.

overall, 9/10 cuddler, very warm and comforting! sometimes his hugs and cuddles are so tight that he's practically suffocating you, though, and you have to poke him in order to remind him that you need to breathe. he just loves you so much and wants to hold you forever!

a/n: william the ever,,,, he's so silly !! also i finished this 5 minutes before midnight lesgo i didn't miss a day on the event already RAAAGH

thanks for reading, and remember to take care of yourself!

[ulkaralakbarova]

A somewhat daffy book editor on a rail trip from Los Angeles to Chicago thinks that he sees a murdered man thrown from the train. When he can find no one who will believe him, he starts doing some investigating of his own. But all that accomplishes is to get the killer after him. Credits: TheMovieDb. Film Cast: George Caldwell: Gene Wilder Hildegard ‘Hilly’ Burns: Jill Clayburgh Grover Muldoon: Richard Pryor Roger Devereau: Patrick McGoohan Bob Sweet: Ned Beatty Sheriff Chauncey: Clifton James Mr. Edgar Whiney: Ray Walston Professor Schreiner & Johnson: Stefan Gierasch Chief: Len Birman Plain Jane: Valerie Curtin Rita Babtree: Lucille Benson Ralston: Scatman Crothers Reace: Richard Kiel Jerry Jarvis: Fred Willard Burt: Delos V. Smith Jr. Blue-Haired Lady: Mathilda Calnan Mexican Mama-San: Margarita García Conventioneer: Henry Beckman Conventioneer: Harvey Atkin Porter: Lloyd White Benny: Ed McNamara Night Watchman: Raymond Guth Engineer #2: John Daheim Fat Man #1: Jack O’Leary Fat Man #2: Lee McLaughlin Red Cap: Bill Henderson Cab Driver: Tom Erhart Moose: Gordon Hurst Waiter (uncredited): J.A. Preston Shoeshiner: Nick Stewart Conventioneer: Steve Weston Film Crew: Casting: Lynn Stalmaster Original Music Composer: Henry Mancini Executive Producer: Martin Ransohoff Writer: Colin Higgins Set Decoration: Marvin March Hairstylist: Joan Phillips Director of Photography: David M. Walsh Editor: David Bretherton Makeup Artist: William Tuttle Stunts: Alan Oliney Producer: Edward K. Milkis Producer: Thomas L. Miller Executive Producer: Frank Yablans Stunt Double: Jeannie Epper Stunts: John Daheim Stunts: Nick Dimitri Stunts: Bob Herron Director: Arthur Hiller Production Design: Alfred Sweeney Stunt Coordinator: Mickey Gilbert Production Manager: Peter V. Herald Production Manager: Jack B. Bernstein Stunts: Janet Brady Sound: Harold M. Etherington Movie Reviews: Wuchak: **_Drama, romance, crime, mystery, comedy, adventure, suspense and action on a train_** A book editor traveling from Los Angeles to Chicago by rail (Gene Wilder) supposedly witnesses a crime while partying with a secretary (Jill Clayburgh). He suddenly finds himself embroiled in a dangerous conspiracy. Richard Pryor plays a helpful thief, Ned Beatty a passenger, Patrick McGoohan a smooth art expert, Richard Kiel a heavy and Len Birman a cop. “Silver Streak” (1976) meshes Hitchcockian murder thriller with the amusing antics of Wilder and Pryor for an entertaining train flick. As my title blurb states, it expertly mixes genres into a fun and compelling rail ride. If you like train flicks like “Runaway Train” (1985), “Transiberian” (2008), “Train” (2008), “Night Train” (2009), “Beyond the Door III” (1989), “The Cassandra Crossing” (1976), “Breakheart Pass” (1975) and “Horror Express” (1972) you’ll also enjoy this one. It’s as good or better than most of ’em. It just includes amusement along with the life-or-death thrills à la the 80’s Indiana Jones adventures. The film runs 1 hour, 54 minutes, and was shot in SoCal, including Century City (studio), Union Station in Los Angeles, South Pasadena (New Mexico train stop), the Mojave Desert (the ranch with the plane) and Brea (the redneck sheriff’s office), as well as Alberta (the prairie scenes), Locust Hill in Ontario, Union Station in Toronto and Northwestern Station in Chicago. GRADE: A-/B+

[tfyoulookingatgiuxs]

Born to Die

Steve Harrington x Suicide!Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Words written on a sheet of paper, the smell of ink as the rain beat hard against the window glass, and only the last words on the paper made him realize that it was too late.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Blurb, hurt no comfort, suicide, fem!reader, use of Y/N, your surname is Williams, depression, crying, bad ending.

𝐀/𝐍: I'm not a big fan of Lana Del Ray, but I know she's great and I know some of her songs, especially this one. It's short, sorry for that!! Sorry for my english this is not my native language. Please support and reblog. Hope you enjoy this one! (DIVIDER NOT MINE)

"The storm was making itself felt, the thunder was chilling but the drops of rain hitting the glass of your window made everything more relaxing. The amber light of your lamp illuminated your room while we both couldn't help but hug each other and tell us everything. When I came to visit you I had so much fun, you were the only distraction, the only divine light in my life that made me feel good. I thought I would remain alone all my life but in the end you arrived, like an angel sent from heaven.

What was your task? Do you have to save me? Or have you come to take me to heaven somehow?

It's hard to write, because I don't want to cry but this is the truth. You told me many times not to give up, not to give up.—"

Steve quickly closed the letter and left the house with a brisk pace "Tell me you didn't do it darling please" the boy thought as he ran through the dark streets of Hawkins. His lungs were about to burst and tears were about to come out "Y/N!!" He shouted desperately but hopefully.

"You were always beside me, you listened to me and understood me. I couldn't have found a better person, I couldn't have been welcomed as you had welcomed me"

Steve had arrived in front of the Williams house, he was out of breath, he rushed in front of the door of the house, slamming it repeatedly, shouting your name.

"But things have gotten worse, and I'm too tired. I don't want to leave you like this...maybe you'll end up hating me, and I'm sorry for that. But I'm fine with it"

The door opened and Mrs. Williams looked at the boy in amazement. She didn't have time to speak before Steve exclaimed "Where's Y/N!?" The woman gave him a confused look but Steve didn't want to wait for an answer. He passed the woman as she screamed, he went upstairs.

"I have chosen my last words, this will be the last time I will write to you, because I was born to die...And that's exactly why I decided I wanted to meet my destiny"

“Y/N!!!” The boy banged on your door repeatedly "Please open the door!" He screamed. He didn't want to believe it. He really didn't want to.

"Know that I will always remember you, even if I am no longer here you will always be a part of me"

Steve started crying with his forehead resting in front of your door.

"Goodbye Steve, remember that I have always loved you. I'm sorry..."

The woman and her husband joined the boy, taking him away from the door of your room "Please open the door!" He begged to your parents. Your father remained silent and tried to open the door. The man called you, but you didn't answer. After several attempts the man managed to open it and what he found in front of him was horrifying.

The woman let out a scream and Steve, looking at your suspended body tied to a rope, collapsed to the ground with shining eyes and a broken heart, with the awareness of having lost his great love.

[writingfortoomanyfandoms]

Back with the Ray Williames request, sorry it wasn't specific. Can you write something where Ray gets super blackout drunk and the reader takes care of him and puts him to bed with water, aspirin and all and the next day Bernie tells him all about it and Ray realizes the girl who took care of him is the woman he's been crushing on and thinks is out of his league and he calls her and asks her to coffee to thank her for taking care of him and then they admit their feelings to each other?

Sorry this took so long to get up :)

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

“Okay, tell me honestly,” Bernie’s grin was wide as he sat across from Ray at his friend’s kitchen table. “How much do you actually remember from last night?”

“Fuck all,” Ray grumbled, rubbing his temples. “This morning I barely even remembered my name,” Bernie’s loud laughter caused Ray to wince, glaring at his friend. “Would you mind shutting up?” He questioned. Bernie bit his lip, his eyes still crinkled at the edges from the struggle of trying to suppress his laughter.

“You were so fucked last night - Y/N thought it was so funny,” Bernie informed him and Ray’s eyes widened a little in shock.

“Y/N?” He repeated.

“Did you forget she was there?”

“Yes,” Ray groaned, falling forwards with his face in his hands, elbows on the table.

“Well she was the one who got you home,” Bernie told his friend. 

“God, please tell me you’re joking,” Ray sighed heavily, wanting nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die from embarrassment.

“If it’s any consolation I’m not sure that she minded all that much.”

“Really?” Ray asked, wincing a little at the mental image he had of the woman he had been crushing on for months having to drag his uncooperative, drunken form home from the pub the previous evening.

“Yeah, she thought it was sweet that you refused to go with anyone else.”

“Jesus, just as I was thinking it couldn’t get any worse,” Ray grumbled.

“Yeah well, now I’ve ruined your morning and made sure you’re not dead, I’m meant to be meeting up with Reg so… maybe give Y/N a call?”

“Definitely gonna do that to apologise,” Ray assured him, standing up to show Bernie out.

“Maybe ask her out while you’re at it?” Bernie suggested. “That’d make for a pretty good apology.”

“You’re so fucking annoying.” Ray said with a glare. Bernie beamed at him and shrugged.

“Love you too, dude.”

Once Ray had closed his front door after bidding his friend goodbye, he walked over to the phone in his hallway, rubbing his temples as he did so. He hated how instinctive it was to dial her phone number, how it was the first one that came to mind to him even when it wasn’t her he was supposed to be calling.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Y/N… it’s Ray.”

“Oh! Hey, how’re you feeling?” There was a knowing lilt to her voice that made Ray wince again.

“I just… wanted to apologise for last night?” He offered making  Y/N laugh and Ray could picture her batting his words away.

“No need for that, it was cute.”

“Yeah, well… How about I get you a coffee to thank you? Tell you I like you properly, when I’m not completely off my face?” His proposal was met with silence, lasting just long enough for Ray to regret everything and contemplate jumping out of his window.

“Yeah… yeah, okay, I’d really like that… pick me up at half ten?”

[jmeddows2]

hiii could you do a roger taylor x reader where they meet up after a break up at a party where it’s angsty and fluffy (they get back together)

Thank you so much for this request. It’s been sitting in my inbox for a while ow but here it is :) it’s a bit messy and all over the placeThe quality of the 2nd picture is really low, BUT it’s one of the better pictures I was able to find from this party.Warnings: noneWords: 1.4k

When you first received the invitation to Freddie’s 31st birthday party you were confused. Roger and you had broken up about half a year ago and you never saw him after you left his apartment with boxes stuffed with  your stuff. You had already tossed the invitation into the bin when your phone rang. It was none other than Freddie himself. “Hello?”“Darling” Freddie’s voiced called through. “Did you get my invitation? It’s going to be a real bang and I want you there” “Well hello to you too” you laughed into the phone at his eagerness. Freddie always spoke what was on his mind. Never minced any matters.“I really don’t know Fred.”“you need to come, no discussions! You must get back out there. I have dozens of other guys lined up for you, or girls you want to get experimental.” He laughed “And I promise they are worth taking a second glance, darling” “I’ll see what I can do, Freddie”“Alright, see you there” and he hung up before you could say anything else.

You arrived at the Country Cousin restaurant when the party was already in full force. Dressed in a yellow turtle - neck jumper, a short skirt and platform knee boots, you surely turned the heads of both women and men as you made your way through the crowd to find the birthday boy. Unable to spot him, you placed the present for Freddie next to the ones that other guests had brought. The only familiar person you were able to spot was John.  “HI (Y/N)! so good to see you again” he jumped into your arms, clearly already plastered, his stinging breath of alcohol was the proof. “Hi Deaky, how have you been?” “couldn’t be better, Ronnie is pregnant again, we’re expecting in February and I’m doing GREEEAAAT” his whole face lit up by the mention of her name.  “And Robert is the cutest child, he’s already trying to fiddle around the bass. Can you believe that??” he was such a proud dad, offered you some booze from his cup, but you declined. “Hi (Y/N), you look great” Brian appeared next to John, he’d grown a little beard over the last six months, and it fitted him. “If you’re looking for Freddie, he’s somewhere over there” he pointed towards a table. It was true. Freddie was there, surrounded by quite a few people around the table, Mary to his right, a guy with a full beard and glasses to his left. And Roger was also sitting there, hands intertwined with a brunette girl, laughing along with the others“His new girlfriend… Dominique” Brian whispered from behind into your ear as he caught you staring at the two. “Oh” You grabbed Deaky who was still by your side “Time for some shots” Roger had already moved on. After all the shit he gave you, begging you to stay, claiming he could never ever get over you. What a fucking liar.  “4 shots of vodka for the lady and me” Deaky slurred to the bartender, he obliged. Freddie’s parties were the best, you could get everything there. Every drink, drug, the most exotic and bizarre food you could imagine etc.  A final bill of six figures would often be the result of those adventurous and exquisite celebrations. After downing the shots, Deaky went to greet other people and probably also tell them stories about his kid. “You came” Freddie hugged you from behind you were slightly startled knocking your new drink over. You turned around and he eyed you up and down. “Fuck me, you look hot.” “Happy Birthday Freddie, thank you for the invitation” you gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Don’t have to thank me, darling. I would like to introduce you to someone” he made a gesture to the man next to him. “Hi, love, I’m Elton” Elton John greeted you, he was wearing a plaid black and red shirt with a green blazer, white glasses, a red beret sitting on top of his head, perfectly matching with his shoes. You were so starstruck, couldn’t even get a word out.“And this is Ray, my manager” Elton made a gesture, signaling that you would strike gold with him. At least for the night. Ray was very handsome, dark brown hair, dark eyes, the cutest smile, a light blush on his cheeks and a floral blouse that hugged his rather slim frame. “… and when I found him, he was only wearing a chicken costume and had no shoes on” you nearly died of laughter listening to all the funny stories and experiences that Ray had witnessed, while accompanying many musicians on tour. In the corner of your eye you were able to spot Roger with one hand slung around his new girlfriend, the other one clutching a bottle of beer in front of him. Seeing him like this weighed you down a bit. It could have been you in that position. The sadness finally disappeared when you caught him watching you. Time to give him a show. “Is your boyfriend somewhere around here?” Ray took a sip from his whiskey sour.“Nope”“Fiancé?” You shook your head. “ I’m single actually” Ray nearly choked on his drink.“A beautiful girl like you? Single? I can’t quite believe that” he reached his hand forward to touch yours.“Believe what you want, but I’m definitely not planning on leaving alone tonight” you gave him a wink. “Is that so?” he smirked, leaning forward. Just as your lips were about to brush, a tap on your shoulder. Roger. “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he sounded pissed, but still sober. “excuse me? What am I doing? Seriously Roger?”“stop that, will you now? I can’t even look at you” you looked at him confused. “hey mate” Ray patted Roger on shoulder, trying to calm him down a bit. “Don’t fucking touch me.” He pushed Ray’s hand off. “ok ok” Ray threw his hands up in defeat. “What do you want Roger?” you asked him, in hope he would leave you two alone.“I want to talk.”“Now? You want to talk NOW? We broke up six months ago and now you…”“Wait, wait, you guys were together?” Ray interrupted you. “Yeah for five bloody years, now will you please get lost?” Roger shot at him. Ray got up from his barstool, telling you he’d be over by the tables across the room, if you needed anything. As soon as it was only the two of you, Roger’s look softened. “I missed you. So so much” He tried to touch your cheek, but you were quick to push his hand away.“ yeah, I doubt that. I mean… You already replaced me, Rog”“that’s not true” he whined.“yeah it is, Brian already told me, Dominique is her name, isn’t it?” You were never the person to throw others into the pan or gossip. But the mention of Brian telling you kind of just slipped out. “I only brought her along a few times, it’s nothing serious” he said, studying you.“Yeah, as if that would make things any better.” “She’s only a distraction. Because you’re not mine anymore. And I can’t stand that. I’ve tried to forget you, which is hard when I still have done nothing but thought about you every single day. Can’t get anything done without you” he looked at his hands that laid flat on the tabletop of the bar. Roger realized that this was his last chance, his last chance of a shot with you and as that realization hit him, a single hot tear ran down his cheek. “Please (Y/N). I need you.”“Roger, I don’t think this is going to work out.”“ It will work. We just have to keep on trying. One more time. Just give me one chance. Its all I need. I will get everything right this time. I don’t want to be without you. I miss our conversations, miss the feeling I get when you’re around me. I even miss our arguments. I still love you, (Y/N).” A tight hug was your answer. “Please tell me that this is a yes” he sniffed into you shoulder. “Ok, Roger. One last chance” He gave you a warm smile and took your hand. “Will you please take me home now?” he asked. Walking out of the restaurant, you received a few confused looks from Brian and especially Ray. Freddie on the other hand smiled, as the two of you passed him hand in hand. He surely had something to do with the whole situation, but you never found out if he actually did. “I’m sorry for being so harsh earlier” Roger mumbled with his head on your chest, on the verge of dozing of to sleep. “Seeing you with another man… it was too much, I’m so sorry. I’ll never do that again”“It’s ok. I felt the same seeing you with someone else, quickly grabbed Deaky for some drinks” he smiled into your skin as you continued gliding your fingers through his hair until your eyes became heavy.

[bopbopstyles]

ROSE COLORED GLASSES: By Your Side (an extra)

SERIES RATING: R (cursing, smoking, alcohol use, violence, PTSD, and sex)

WORD COUNT: 8.3k

CATEGORIES: boxer!Harry, gang/mob!Harry, 1920s!Harry, Peaky Blinders!Harry (?)

As the daughter of the most powerful man in Birmingham, there were expectations of Cicely King: an advantageous marriage to save her father’s business, for one. But Cicely had never been one to follow orders. So when she woke up after an accident in the home of Harry Styles, the illusive boxer, she took it as an opportunity to escape her life. What she didn’t intend on was falling in love with him.

MASTERLIST | INSPO TAG | SERIES MASTERLIST

a/n: hello i am back with more RCG, my children, my loves, my everythings. i got a request for a wedding blurb and these two immediately came to mind. enjoy peak softness, some smut, and just general big RCG energy. this is an extra, set months after the end of part two. enjoy some Hicely and come talk to me in my inbox about them!

pls reblog and share with your friends 💕✨

Harry could hardly hold it together.

The church pews in front of him were full with their neighbors and a few people from Cicely’s life before they had met, but by and large it was the people they had met since she had found him. Wide-brimmed hats and plenty of color, everyone in their Sunday best for a wedding between the infamous Harry Styles and his beloved Cicely. But it wasn’t the people that had Harry’s heart pounding.

It was the fact that he was about to marry the love of his life.

Harry had never really believed in fate—not after he had lost so many people, after he had been dealt bout after bout of pain. But then he found Cicely on a road in the middle of a thunderstorm and fell in love, and suddenly fate was the only thing that could’ve possibly explained it. How he had fallen in love in a matter of days, how he had let her in as he had never let anyone in before, how she matched his every trait and complemented him perfectly. Soothed him in his darkest moments, challenged him when he deserved it, pushed him when he needed it, and loved him every second of every day. Walking out of the ring and into her arms was a kind of peace he had never known; waking up to her body curved against his quieted his mind in the ways he never knew he needed.

And now she was about to be his for the rest of time.

He shifted from foot to foot, wiping his sweaty palms on the heavy material of his black suit jacket. Josiah had bought it for him—claimed it was his wedding gift to the couple, making sure Harry had a nice suit. It was the nicest piece of clothing he owned, tailored to perfectly fit the cut of his body and one look at it showed how expensive it was.

Frankly, he felt uncomfortable in it.

“Harry.” He turned his head to where Jack stood, his best man, flanked by Josiah and Tommy. “Stop worrying, you look like you don’t want to be here.”

“I just hate fuckin’ waiting,” Harry said under his breath. “Didn’t think I’d have to stand up here with all these people starin’ at me.”

Jack gave him a look of sympathy and understanding. “She’ll be here soon.”

As if right on cue, the music started up, the church organist playing from their corner as they did every Sunday. Except this time, it was for Harry and Cicely. Then, the doors to the room pushed open, and Harry felt his breath catch, the rays of the Saturday afternoon light streaming in the stained glass windows as Pippa stepped into the chapel, tossing rose petals onto the aisle way. It had been one of Cicely’s few requests for the wedding—that Pippa be their flower girl and Clarence their ring bearer, her affection for the neighbor children evident.

The little girl walked down the aisle grinning ear to ear as she dropped petals on a slow interval, soft coos from the audience at the sight of her pale purple dress that Josiah had purchased for her, wanting her to have a nice new dress for the wedding of his close friend. Behind her entered Clarence in a suit that was slightly too big on him, but held room to be grown into, also a gift from Josiah. His eyes were on the floor in front of him, as if he was nervous that he was going to trip on the tile.

Finally, the love of Harry’s life entered the room in a cloud of white and sunshine.

Her white satin dress glinted under the mid-afternoon rays, the floor-length material gathered at her side, a dip at the neckline that hinted at the cleavage Harry had run his fingers along the outline of only the previous day. A white cap sat on her head, the perfectly curled curves of her blond hair peeking out from underneath, and a long white see-through and embroidered train falling to the ground as she moved towards her. Long sleeves gathered at her wrists, where her dainty hands held a large bouquet of flowers, ones picked out by her mother, who stood at Cicely’s side.

In the months since Cicely had returned to Harry, she and her father hadn’t reconciled, but she had faithfully sent letters to her mother to keep her updated on her life. She had sent her an announcement for the wedding and her mother had replied saying she would attend, and asked to help plan. Through the process, she had demonstrated how much she loved her daughter, and when Cicely asked her to walk her down the aisle in the place of William, her mother cried. Now, she stood next to her daughter in a deep purple dress, a smile of joy and pride on her face as she guided Cicely down the aisle towards Harry.

Harry didn’t know if he had every seen someone more breath-taking than Cicely in this moment.

Well, she always took his breath away, but her she was in her wedding dress walking towards him with that wide smile that was reserved only for him, her brown eyes glowing with joy under the bright light of the room. His eyes trailed down her figure, taking in the sight of her and memorizing every curve of the material and the sight in front of him because he never wanted to forget what she looked like on the day she married him.

To even have a woman as magnificent as she was marrying him felt like his life’s work accomplished. He could never be more proud than he was to be her husband, because there was not a single title that meant more to him. No matter how many matches he won, nothing could ever top marrying her. Despite the fact that a year ago he hadn’t even known her, it felt as if he had been waiting for this moment for his entire life.

And now that it was here Harry couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have Cicely King walking up an aisle to become his for the rest of time.

Distantly, he heard the organ playing in the background as she reached the front of the chapel, her mother helping her adjust her veil around her. Her hands were covered in silk white gloves that when up her forearms, and then she finally stood within arm’s reach, he couldn’t resist immediately grabbing hold of them, desperate to touch her even if it was through fabric. She was beaming at him, and when her thumb brushed over his knuckles, his heart clenched. He couldn’t find the words to describe this moment, the sight of her in front of him, about to marry him.

But then he did. He found the words when he repeated his vows, his gaze never breaking hers. “I, Harry Styles, take thee, Cicely King, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold,” the word wife falling off his tongue like butter, a term meant to be there. “From this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I pledge myself to you.”

He saw the tears at the corner of her eyes and admittedly, there were a few in his as well. He wondered if she could feel the way his hands shook ever so slightly as he said the words, his voice cracking a bit as he said “I pledge myself to you.” They had been able to choose between pledging their faiths to one another and pledging themselves to one another, and for Harry it was an easy choice.

She was his life. There was nothing else in the world he was loyal too besides her. The church, the country, the King, not even Josiah—none of them were more worthy of his life than she was.

The chapel was quiet when Cicely began to speak, the sound of her soft and loving tone filling his body as she recited her vows. “I, Cicely King, take thee, Harry Styles, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereto I pledge myself to you.”

Her blog hair curled into her face and Harry resisted the urge to reach up and push it behind her ear, the light blush on her cheeks making him break into an even wider smile. He didn’t think he had ever smiled this much—he didn’t smile very much before Cicely. But she made him laugh when she woke him up in the morning with kisses on his cheeks, smile when she walked up behind him and hugged him tight, grin when he saw her walking towards him with books she’d bought and wanted to share with him. Just simply being around her made him want to constantly be smiling.

Next to him, he heard the priest introduce the ring exchange, and Clarence moved towards where he and Cicely stood, presenting the simple wedding bands they had picked out. Cicely had been the one who insisted on their simplicity, telling Harry as they laid in bed one morning that it didn’t matter how expensive the rings were, it was what they represented that mattered to her. Told him that she had spent her life caring about people’s perceptions of herself and she didn’t care anymore—she wanted a ring that was hers and was from him, and that was all.

And that was how she had ended up with the engagement ring she wore now, and the thin band he now held in his palm as he recited the words to the ring exchange. “With this ring,” he said, taking in the sight of her looking at him with nothing but love in her eyes, “I thee wed.” He slipped the ring over the silk glove on her hand, the metal nestling between the folds of the silk, fitting her just as well as the glove she wore.

Then, Cicely picked up Harry’s ring and he saw it for the first time—a wide silver band, and when she turned it slightly he saw an inscription glint on the inside. She had gotten an inscription on it, he thought to himself as she held it in her palm. For some reason, that thought made his chest tighten, and it only got tighter when she began to speak. “With this ring,” she said, rotating his hand so it was aligned with the ring, “I thee wed.”

It felt no heavier in weight than the other rings he wore, but the meaning behind it made it more precious than the other metals he wore. The fact that it was what represented his bond to her made him vow immediately to never take it off unless he was fighting, to wear it with pride for the rest of his life.

With their hands clasped, the priest pronounced them husband and wife, and Harry’s love chuckled softly when the words You may now kiss the bride were spoken. Harry had never moved fasted in his life, not caring who surrounded him—he slipped his hand to her waist and tugged her into his chest, desperate to feel her body against him. His home, his love, his life, everything in the world that mattered existed in the body of a single person: her.

The sound of her giggle when his lips met hers made it all the more perfect. The taste of her lipstick and her mid-day tea, the scent of her perfume that had imprinted itself in his mind. When he kissed her, nothing else mattered—she was his, finally.

As they pulled away, just an innocent and chaste kiss unlike the ones they usually shared, Cicely pressed her fingertips to his cheekbones, brushing softly against his skin. She was all he could see, her features filling his faze, and he had never seen a more stunning sight. The joy in her expression overwhelmed him—how could he make another person feel that way? How could he make her feel that level of happiness? How could he be the reason for the smile that was so wide it blinded him?

It boggled his mind, but when she kissed his lips softly, one more time, a chuckle rising from his best man, he knew why: because she loved him just as much as he loved her. There wasn’t a soul on the earth who could illicit an emotion that would surpass the feeling that rested in both of their chest as they stood in the chapel. They were meant for one another, crafted and sculpted to fit each other’s nooks and crannies, designed to match.

A cheer rose up from the crowd—one he knew originated from Josiah’s men who were too rowdy to keep themselves together any longer than they had to, but he didn’t mind. It made Cicely laugh, and that sound was one Harry would’ve fought in another war just to hear one more time.

“Did we just get married?” Cicely asked him, just loud enough so he could hear it, her fingers intertwining with his as they turned to face the crowd.

“I think so,” he answered, squeezing her palm in his. “How do ya feel, Mrs. Styles?”

The corners of her lips turned up and she pressed her arm closer to his. “Happier than ever before.”

After the ceremony, there was at the pub, the first one Josiah ever bought and where the beer was always free for Harry, and by extension, Cicely. They closed the place down for the night and the barkeep was constantly carrying pints around the place, the barmaid laughing and handing drunken men and women their beers from across the bar. In the corner of the room, sat Harry and Cicely in the booth, his arm slung around her shoulders and a rare grin on his face.

They had decided to leave on their honeymoon the following morning—they wanted to celebrate with their friends. Friends who had become their family, who had protected and fought for them every step of the way. They would have plenty of honeymoons if Harry had it his way, the memory of their time along the sea one of the brightest days of his life. It paled only in comparison to this day, the day when he married his love.

Cicely still wore her wedding dress, mainly because Harry refused to let her change, and her fingers crawled up the material of his pants stretched tight across his thighs. “Our friends are menaces,” she said under her breath and Harry snorted in response.

It was a sound she rarely heard outside of the comfort of their home. This Harry was the one she had pulled from his shell, the one who laughed and smiled and tickled her until she swatted at him to stop. To experience him like this out in public meant something, even if only Cicely knew it. It meant he didn’t feel like he had to hide anymore or pretend. That he could simply live for the first time in a very long time.

“I want another pint,” she told him, pressing the pads of her index and middle finger into the inside of his thigh, earning her a wide-eyed glance from Harry.

“Do ya now?” He replied, rotating his upper body ever so slightly, just enough so that he could face her full-on. “When I met you, you’d never even had one before, and now you’re askin’ me for another.”

He shook his head and Cicely leaned in slightly, the drunken haze of her mind letting the barrier she usually kept up between them in public falling. “I was corrupted, I suppose.”

His eyebrows lifted at her words, surprised to hear his normally innocent girl say such a thing. “Were ya now? And who by?”

“A man,” she answered, running her fingertips along the seam of his pants. “A man with bloody knuckles and a soft touch.”

Even though she meant it to be tantalizing, Harry couldn’t help the tug the words had on his heart. He had always feared what he did for a living would scare away the most precious thing in the world, but she managed to find his humanity amidst all of the pain he caused. “That man must be quite lucky,” he told her with measured breath, his hand heavy on her shoulder, “to have the honor of touching you.”

Cicely’s eyes didn’t leave his as her hand crept to his knee, running her finger in a circle along the inside. Harry gulped at the pressure and watched her closely as she leaned in, closing the space between them. “He is,” she said, “but he’s not doing it nearly enough right now.”

Just as he was about to respond, a glass slammed down onto the table and he looked up to see Tommy standing there, grinning ear to ear. “The newlyweds!” He said, spreading one arm out. “To Mr. and Mrs. Styles!” He raised his pint and the entire pub cheered, echoing his words as they took a drink.

Cicely had the wherewithal to smile and wave, but Harry was too distracted by what she had said. Suddenly, it felt like his purpose in life was to touch her, to feel her skin against his. And she was wearing too much fabric—the long sleeves, the gloves, the long skirt. He couldn’t see her in the way he needed, and the need was something carnal inside of him. The desire to touch his wife.

His wife.

“You’re my wife,” he said out of the blue, drawing her attention back to him.

“Pardon?” Perhaps she couldn’t hear him over the boisterous singing that had taken over the pub, but Harry couldn’t hear anything bu her.

“You’re my wife.” When he said the words he ran his thumb across her cheek, from the apple of it to her ear, before sweeping his digit down to the hinge of her jaw and the slope of her neck. “My wife.” He said in a whisper, as if in awe with the concept, the reality of it settling in for the first time.

Reflexively, she leaned into his palm, resting her head in his touch. “My husband,” she answered. “I can’t quite believe it.”

The smile he gave her was soft, the edges of his mouth curving upwards only barely, but the real smile was in his eyes. The sea of green that she swam in every moment of her life, the edges of his irises that she bathed in in her dreams. “Will it feel more real in the mornin’?”

“I don’t know,” she told him, because she didn’t. She didn’t know what the morning would hold for them, other than a train ride to a cottage where they were staying for a fortnight. “Perhaps.”

Gently, he rested his forehead against hers. “I don’t think it’ll ever feel real,” he whispered. “I can barely even process that you’re real sometimes, much less that you’re mine.”

This was something they battled constantly—the fact that Harry constantly feared losing her. It had happened once and neither of them wanted it to happen again, but for Harry it was his darkest nightmare, the one that rattled him to his core. Sometimes, they bled into the daytime and he struggled with the concept that she was truly there with him, that she wasn’t a figment of his imagination or an angel come to take him away.

Cicely had grown used to it, though, as much as it hurt her. She was used to his requests to remind him and she did so gladly, reciting their story in the darkness and the light, no matter what time of day he needed it. Sometimes he would call her on the telephone he had gotten installed so she could speak to her mother, and he would beg her in a broken tone to remind him, to remind him of reality. He’d call from the boxing ring, breathless and mind whirling, struggling to piece it all together and she’d help him. She didn’t mind. She only wished that one day he would understand that she felt just as lucky to have him as he did her. That he was just as precious to her, that she would fight for him for the rest of her days, that he was worthy of every second of joy they experienced. It broke her to see him in pain, and sometimes he struggled to understand that—that she loved him just as deeply as he loved her.

To remind him on this occasion, she lifted her hands to cup his face, and pressed a soft, chaste kiss to his lips. “Just as you are mine, my love.” Her fingers combed through his hair, the locks that she kept cropped to his preferred length. “And I will love you for the rest of my days.”

The pub around them continued to celebrate their union as the happy couple existed in their bubble, impenetrable from the love and adoration flowing between them. Cheers and song lasted well into the night, until the beer nearly ran out and Jack finally forced everyone out, the sounds of joy spilling into the narrow streets of Balsall Heath. The place where two people fell in love, despite who they were and the barriers that stood in their way.

The place where Harry and Cicely fell in love.

Josiah demanded that Harry and Cicely let one of his men drive them home, saying that newlyweds didn’t walk home after the pub. So instead they ended up getting dropped off at Harry’s home, the black car pulling away from the curb and leaving them alone in the dark, quiet night. They still lived in the same home, the same green-wallpaper and small kitchen, but Cicely had made a few updates.

“C’mere,” Harry said, wrapping his arm around her waist and tugging her body into his.

“What are you doing?” She said in a harsh whisper when he picked her up, her legs draped over one arm and the other tightly gripping her upper body.

“What does it look like?” He asked, unlocking the door and pushing it open. “‘M carryin’ my wife across the threshold.”

Cicely giggled as he stepped inside, crossing the threshold that they had each crossed an innumerable amount of times, but for some reason it felt different. It felt different between Cicely’s white wedding dress hung from her body as he set her on her feet, and she held the her veil in her hands so it didn’t drag along the floor. It felt different because when Harry’s hand pressed into her back, there was a new ring present on his fingers—one that she had placed there.

Inside, the home was still Harry’s, but by this point it was Cicely’s as well. Photographs sat on the hall table, ones of the two of them—one from a horserace they’d gone to, Cicely laughing into Harry’s chest as he held her, another of them at the sea. She’d even put up one of her and her mother in the living room next to the one of Harry and his family—who hadn’t been present at the wedding, as much as she had tried to force him to invite them. The bookshelf was littered with Cicely’s favorite books and her many bookmarks laid on various surfaces in the house, random scraps of paper that she would tuck between pages. On the floors were rugs that she had picked out at the markets, warming up the house that was now her home.

In the kitchen was new cutlery and plates and glasses, ones without nicks at the sides. The pantry stayed stocked because suddenly it wasn’t just Harry who ate dinner at the small dining table every night, it was Harry and Cicely. Her favorite tea was tucked in next to his in the drawer, and she’d sewn napkins from their old curtains which she had replaced, claiming they needed more color in their home.

Upstairs, she’d replaced the sheets with a pristine white and the duvet cover was now a dark blue, a soft material she had searched high and low for. In the armoire were her clothes lying next to his, her dresses hung up in the wardrobe and her shoes right alongside his. On the bedside table was Cicely’s favorite photograph: one she had had Pippa take on their front steps when they’d gotten back from the sea, a rare smile on Harry’s face as he looked at Cicely, their eyes both filled with love.

Now, Cicely leaned against the banister and looked at her husband, her eyes drawing down his body as he locked the front door behind them. “Why are ya starin' at me?” He asked, stepping towards her, the whiskey and beer making his accent more prominent and his words clipped at the end.

“Hmm,” she murmured, sliding her palms up his suit jacket. “I was looking at my husband.”

“Were ya now?” Harry’s voice was rough as he said the words, his body closing in to hers and pressing her flush against the banister, her back digging into the spindles. “And?”

“And,” she replied, her hands slipping down, fingertips brushing over where she knew the barbells sat under his clothing, taking joy in the hollow groan that fell from his lips. “I think I’d like to undress him.”

The sounds that slid from Harry’s mouth were sinful, a combination of curses that she would never allow him to say in front of their children, her name, and wordless, broken, moans. “Would you like to do that here or upstairs?” He asked, leaning in and brushing his lips to her jawline, nipping at the thin skin that covered her bone, reveling in the gasp that left her. “Your choice, love.”

She pushed back his jacket, not so far that it fell off his shoulders, but enough that she could run her hands up his dress shirt. Then, with a steady gaze that left him gasping for air, she hooked her fingers in each of the buttons of his shirt, popping each one with precision. “Partly here,” she answered once she had access to his chest, her fingertips pressing into his warm skin, his mind going haywire no matter how many times she had touched his bare chest. Then, she leaned in and her soft lips met his sternum, leaving a trail of kisses and pulls on his skin, the pop of her lips when she drew away the only sound other than the light exhales of her name in the air. “And partly there.”

Harry would let her do anything. That had been established long ago. He was a mere mortal to her holy aura, just a scrap of paper in a book of poems that were all her compositions. He was hers to do as she wished, and he never desired to be anything else. “As you wish,” he rasped, eyes darkening when her leg hooked around his calf and tugged him closer.

It was as if a gun had been shot off, one of the ones that were tucked into the jackets of Josiah’s men—suddenly they were hands and lips, a flurry of touch. Cicely couldn’t get enough, her desire to touch him having built up all day and was bursting at the seams. All she wanted was his bare skin under hers, to touch him and feel every rise and fall of his body. So when she hooked her hands under his shirt and tugged, neither of them cared that the remaining buttons were still clasped and that they were pulled free from the thread. Neither of them minded when they fell to the floor along with his suit jacket and his shirt, the fabric long forgotten in favor of Cicely touching every inch of his chest.

“Ci,” he whispered when she licked across his collarbones, drawing a path and humming his name under her breath. “Ci, Ci, Ci,” he chanted, her name the only thought he could process at the sensation of her so close yet so far away.

Her tongue dipped into the hollow above where his bone jutted out, and then down, nibbling at the skin absentmindedly before dipping her head and sucking harshly on the swallows on his chest. She had a mission—she wanted to lick and pull on her favorite part of him, the piercings adorning his nipples, the very things that had so intrigued her the first time she had seen them. And when she did, Harry did the same thing he always did, gripped her hips in his wide palms and clenched his jaw, barely holding himself together.

Warmth spread across his skin as she licked up, down, and in a circle over his right nipple, a rumble from her throat making goosebumps rise on the area surrounding it. Her thumbs brushed up her sides, the feeling of her touch overwhelming his senses—he could smell nothing but her perfume, the smoke in her hair and the lingering beer on her breath. She was sweetness and Balsall Heath all rolled into one—she was home, the only home he had ever truly known, the only one that ever mattered. She was his, to have and to hold, for the rest of his days.

And he would never let her go.

Cicely could’ve stayed there for hours, neck bent as she licked and pulled at his nipples, the cold metal beneath her tongue and pressed against her lips, exploring the sounds he made and the way he touched her body. But Harry’s fingers curled into her hair and pulled her face up to look at his, their eyes meeting as their chests rose and fell.

“Love,” he murmured, irises blown out as he looked at her, thumbs brushing up her neck gently. “I need ya.”

She didn’t even need to reply, she just pulled on his neck and connected their mouths finally, the press of Harry’s lips to hers pushing every other thought in her head to the side. He consumed her, the imprint of his body against hers as he held her close, the pull of his teeth on her bottom lip, the soft chuckles leaving his mouth when she squirmed in his grasp. “Harry,” she said, words caught in her throat when he drew a line down her neck of searing kisses. “Upstairs.”

His head bounced up at that. “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” she answered, raising her ankle that was around his calf higher so it was hitched around his knees. “Want my husband.” Her sentences were incomplete, but they always were when they were like this. When their minds went blank, devoid of anything other than one another, their souls intertwined.

Harry’s eyes softened at her last word, hands falling from her ribcage to her hips. “Can I carry you?” He asked, knowing sometimes she liked to walk herself, but other times she didn’t mind it when placing all of her trust in him. Sometimes it made her feel powerless, the feeling reminding her of that dreaded day in the streets with her father and the police. When that happened, Harry let her lead the way, let her hold all the power in the moment so she didn’t slip into the depths of her mind as she sometimes did.

Tonight, Cicely said yes, the word light in the near-darkness of their entry hall. They’d turned on no other lights when they had entered, but they didn’t need them. They could describe one another perfectly without light, having memorized each other’s bodies long ago. But more than that, they could sense one another’s moods—Cicely knew what Harry wanted and needed, and vice versa.

They could survive in the dark.

They had before.

Harry carried her up the stairs of their home, Cicely’s lips sweeping across his shoulders like wildfire, hands curled around his shoulders as he held her in his arms. When they reached what used to be his room, and now belonged to the both of them, he set her down on the floor, knowing he would need her standing to undress her.

First, he bent to his knees and removed her heels, the white satin ruined from the mud in the streets, but he knew she didn’t mind. He placed them next to where she stood, balanced on the kitten heels, and then stood back up. “Turn ‘round for me,” he said in the quiet of their room.

She followed his directions immediately, turning so the back of her wedding dress was revealed, her veil forgotten somewhere downstairs. Harry’s fingers swept down her back, Cicely’s breath constricting at the sensation, and then popped each of the tiny buttons on her dress, revealing bit by bit of her skin.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, perhaps to no one but himself, but Cicely heard it. He said it every time he saw her like this, even if it was just the sliver of skin above her stockings, it was beauty to him. To see her bare skin was a sight he would never forget, and he always reminded her of how to him, she was the most stunning creature on Earth.

Then, his lips met her spine, and Cicely sighed, heavy and wet in the room, her hands reaching behind her to hold onto something—she caught the top of his trousers and curled her forefingers into them. “H,” she rasped.

“I’m tryin’ to savor you,” he said, humming against her skin. “Let me, please, love.”

She couldn’t refuse him, not when it was a request such as this. So she let him continue on his adventure, murmuring praises into her as he popped each button, imprinting his love on her skin so it would never leave her. It was like a tattoo, like the black ink on his body, except instead of ink it was the wet heat of his tongue and a trail of searing kisses.

Harry couldn’t tear his eyes away. He knew he was torturing her, but he knew she enjoyed the words he spoke and the way he touched her body. How he pushed the material off her shoulders and let it fall to the ground, the light weight of the silk hitting their wooden floors in a whoosh of air. And in front of him stood his love in nothing but delicate white lace. “Ci,” he whispered, fingers crawling down her exposed back, brushing over the back of her brassiere and down her spine to where the tops of her underwear laid.

Slowly, she turned, her body just a hair’s distance away, and he saw the rest of her body—the rise and fall of her breasts, the softness of her stomach, the angles of her hips and the length of her legs. The flush of her cheeks and the glow in her eyes meant only for him. “Your turn,” she said, and popped the button on his trousers, which were all that remained of his wedding attire.

“Wait—“ he said, grabbing her hands. “My shoes, forgot my shoes.”

She giggled and the sound pulled them out of the heat of the moment for just long enough for Harry to poke her side and fall to his knees, untying the laces of his boots and pulling them off, letting them fall to the side next to her heels. “Done?” She asked when he rose back to standing.

“Impatient,” he mumbled, pushing the hair back from her forehead and behind her ear.

She laughed softly, air from her lips hitting his chest. “Perhaps a bit.”

“Oh?” It had taken them so long to get to his point—where Cicely felt comfortable asking for what she wanted, feeling confident in situations such as this. What had changed was the realization that their time had no end date, no expiration, that they had forever together. There was a sense of calm and comfort in that discovery, and it had allowed her to open up a part of herself she never had before, the part of her that toyed with him and prodded and taunted him just as much as he did her.

Cicely returned to the task at hand, her hand brushing against his cock and smiling when Harry jerked under her touch. Then, she pulled down the zipper on his trousers, and let them fall to the ground. He was wearing boxers, a rarity for him, if she was being honest, but she decided to leave them for the time being.

For a breath, they stood and stared at each other, eyes searching one another’s and taking in the moment. And then, Cicely sat down on the edge of their bed and scooted backwards, her underwear riding down on her hips slightly as she moved, and laid back.

Harry couldn’t breathe for a moment. Despite sleeping with her every night, his body curled up against hers, he never tired of the sight of her spread out in front of him, of how she reached out for him with one hand, waiting for him to join her. He took her hand and his knees hit the duvet, inching towards her, his knees on either side of her body as he made his way up.

“I love you,” he murmured, resting his forehead to her cheek, head bent and eyes shut. He did this sometimes hen he was simply overwhelmed with his emotions, unable to even put them into words. His eyelashes fluttered softly against her skin, and her hands swept up his back, nails lightly scraping across his skin to calm him. “I don’t—I—“

“Me too,” she answered, knowing what he meant without even needing to hear the words.

He lifted his head, took one look at her face, and closed the narrow space between them, lips slotting between hers. Gently, he lowered himself, needing to be closer to her, wanting his skin pressed to hers, and placed his knees between her legs. He laid flush against her and Cicely loved it, adored how he let his weight drop to her, how he let himself go in her arms. Her knees moved upwards and her ankles hooked around his lower back, and when she did so, they both groaned, the feeling of their centers brushing lighting a fire in both of their bellies.

She needed more. Anything he could give her, she needed. She wanted it all, every part of him, forever. “For the rest of my life,” she murmured when his lips met her jaw, then her neck, and down to her chest. “I’m going to love you for the rest of my life.”

Harry pulled back ever so slightly, just enough to be able to see her fully. “Rest of my life,” he agreed. “Only you, Ci.”

With that, they were clamoring for one another, Harry unclasping her brassiere and pulling it away, her hands tugging down his boxers, desperate for him. It was as if it was their first time all over again, even thought it was anything but—they’d had one another so many times they couldn’t remember a night without each other since Cicely had returned to him. They didn’t know how to sleep apart, in fact.

When Harry pulled down her underwear and bent to lick into her, Cicely pulled on his hair softly, making him meet her gaze. “No,” she said gently, “need you.”

He looked at her, at the desire in her eyes, and moved back up her body so he was hovering over her. Then, he pulled her leg up so it slotted around his hips, and ground his pelvis into hers ever so slightly, just enough for his length to rub against her folds, her fingernails digging into the skin of his chest where he was bound to have marks tomorrow, but he didn’t mind. She would be the only person he would be seeing for days, anyways.

“Please,” she begged, voice breaking, fingers tugging on the skin at the back of his neck to pull him closer. “Harry.”

The way she said his name had him unraveling for her. “Okay, love, okay,” his forehead fell to hers, pants of air leaving both of their mouths, and they could hear nothing but each other. He reached between them, pumping his length roughly, desperation seeping through his body.

Her hand met his all of a sudden, palm enclosing around his, and she built a harsher pace, one that had him bucking against her hips and hissing through his teeth. When his eyes found hers again, she licked her lips slowly, and then she shifted, brushing his tip against her entrance.

She was wet, like she always was for him, and it made Harry’s hands curl in the duvet, trying to anchor himself as she slipped him inside of her. Every time she was warm, wet, and tight, accepting him willingly, her body arching into his and sighing in relief. “Ci,” he groaned, eyes fluttering shut as he pushed fully into her, feeling her walls constrict around him. “Fuck, love.”

And then he began to move, knowing she didn’t need much time anymore—from the way her fingernails dragged down his shoulder blades, he knew she was wound up as tightly as he was. He wondered if she had been thinking of this all day as he had, of having her alone, of having her to himself finally.

Now that he did, he never wanted it to end. The sound of her breathy moans in his ears, how she panted as he pushed slowly in and out of her, building a gentle rhythm because the emotions taking hold of his body wouldn’t allow for anything more. He wanted to show her with each press of his body how much he adored her, how she was his everything, how nothing could ever compare to her. She was chanting his name, mixed in with I love you and it broke him, a stray tear slipping from his eye that she kissed away, littering his eyelids with gentle caresses of her lips.

Cicely couldn’t think, much less find the words for how she felt in that moment. She had loved Harry from the beginning, had known he would be hers for just as long, and yet this felt new. This feeling of permanence; that no one could take him away, that he would always be hers and no one else’s. As he thrust into her, his face slotted against hers, their cheeks brushing every time he moved, not a centimeter of space between them, she didn’t know how it was possible to love someone this much. For it to overtake her every sense, for it to permeate every bone in her body, every part of her soul. He was everything to her.

“I love you,” he echoed in her ear, repeating it over and over again as his hips met hers. “Love you so much.” He was unabashed in his confession, needing her to know, and she did.

Her fingers found his hand, parting his digits so she could nestled hers between them, and he gripped her hand. She tucked her head, pressing searing kisses to every part of his face and neck she could reach, and Harry’s mind was short circuiting. He knew he wasn’t going to last long, but she was making it impossible for him.

How she was holding him inside of her, how she curled her body into his, how she held onto him like she was sinking and he was her life raft. Her bare skin on his, the brush of her breasts against the barbells tucked into his nipples, making his entire body even more sensitive. How she sucked harshly on his jaw, most definitely leaving a mark that she would giggle at in the morning when they woke up.

“Closer,” she begged suddenly, her request reminding him so vividly of one of their first times together. “I need you closer, Harry.”

He would give her anything she requested, and that one was first on his list. So he picked her up, just as he had many times before, arms curling under her back, and sat back on his heels. With her situated on his lap, her legs draped around his waist and her arms around his neck, there was nowhere either of them could escape to, their entire worlds caught up in that one moment. “Better?” He asked, pressing her hips down onto him more.

Her head tipped backwards and he took advantage of the exposed skin, nipping and sucking on her pulse point. “Perfect,” she rasped when he thrust up into her. Then she cursed and he smiled, loving when she let completely go and her posh self disappeared, replaced with the real Cicely who had no walls. Not for him—they’d broken them down long ago.

“Not going to last much longer,” he murmured, face nestled into the crook of her neck, buried deep into her hair. “Sorry, love.”

“Shh,” she said, squeezing at his hips as he pushed deeply into her. “Me either.” He was keeping the pace slow and it was killing her, but also making everything more intense, her boy craving each and every time their hips met. It was as if she couldn’t get enough, clawing at his back when he drove harshly into her than before, a mumbled apology leaving his lips.

“Ci,” he begged, not even sure what he was begging for, just her. Her. Something more, some more shred that she could give him.

She knew immediately, carding her fingers through his locks of hair and scratching at his scalp, a murmur of his name in his ear, and then she tightened around him. Her climax was rushing towards her in a storm, the sweat between their bodies and the press of their skin heightening everything about the moment, the hushed tones of love and desperation in their throats. “Stay inside me,” she whispered, lips brushing over his cheek.

“Wha’?” He asked, eyelids fluttering. He was so close that she felt it, his long eyelashes on her skin.

“Want it inside,” she repeated, not even really knowing the words for what she wanted, but hoping he understood.

“I—love, that means—“ A baby, he thought to himself, his hands tightening around her waist. They’d spoken about it, both knowing they wanted it, but they had said after the wedding. And now, he supposed, it was after the wedding.

“I know,” she said softly. “Please, H.”

His forehead rested against her clavicle, utterly overwhelmed. “Okay,” he said, voice hoarse from the prospect of their child mixed in with the love already rushing through him. It was too much—he could feel himself rapidly nearing his end, the buck of his hips speeding up. “I’m—“

“I’ve got you.” Cicely’s hands swept across his back and peppered his hairline with kisses, her legs tight around his waist. “I’ve got you, darling.”

Darling. That word was one she used rarely and only in private, but that made it even more meaningful. It made his heart clench, and when he lifted his head to let his eyes meet her, he was done for. She was crying, light tears streaking down her cheeks, but her eyes were filled with nothing but love, not a trace of heartbreak. No, she was crying for joy. From the knowledge that this love, it was unending.

That was what did him in. It was what had him stuttering in her grasp, body shaking slightly as he came inside of her, ropes brushing her walls, his thrusts slowing. He brushed her bud, not wanting to leave her behind, and their names mixed, one from each of them. Promises of love, echoes of adoration, reminders of what they meant to one another filled the room.

Cicely’s body was shivering in his hold, her high leaving her body mush. She could feel him inside of her, and she quite liked it, if she was being honest—liked having a piece of him left behind.

Her hands cradled his head and she gently said, “I love you, Harry.”

He didn’t even need to say it back, she could see the words written in his every feature, but he did anyways. “I love you, Ci. Always.” Then, he kissed her, letting their lips tell their story again and again.

Later, they laid in bed and whispered about their future together. He couldn’t help but sweep his palms over her belly where one day their child would rest. Before Cicely, Harry didn’t know if he would ever be a father. But now, it was the only path that was certain. A path with her, their child, their family, that was all he wanted. The rest of the world was meaningless without them.

Cicely’s fingers intertwined with his as they lay there, the clink of the metal of their rings softly sounding in the room. “Thank you,” she said.

He looked at her, curious. “For what?”

“Everything.” She didn’t have words for all of the individual things he had given her, and she hoped he would know what she meant.

And he did. He knew it all, every part of her, and adored each piece. He pressed a light kiss to her knuckles, and tucked her in closer to his chest, a silent answer that there was nothing to thank him for. That he would do it all over again with every reincarnation, that they would find each other again every time. After all, they were meant for one another, two halves to a whole.

Harry and Cicely, Cicely and Harry.

Until the end of time.

series taglist: @autumn-sunflowers @afire-hes @harrydobedirectioning​ @harryinsweatersandbandanas @vapingisntmything @frindgeyy @froggystyles @magical-mischief-makers @heslilac @ursogoldenshan @hhh33-3l​ @grace-ful-gold​ @tbslenthusiast @smirkingstyles @taeboonie @samjo1986

[eddiesfaerie]

Howdy partner! So happy to see you've opened requests as I just adore your writing! 🥰 Can I get a little fluffy blurb or some sweet headcanons for "Sunlight" with Clyde or Paterson?? Im thinking some fluff could do my soul good 💗.

oh my gosh kate 🥺 thank you so much for requesting, i hope this Paterson fluff warms your heart <3 pls accept these headcanons (my first time writing headcanons? omg?)

I feel like there are a lot of cloudy days in Paterson, New Jersey

In fact, so many that Paterson gets used to it, gets used to all the rain, all the dreary weather

Like SO used to it to the point that he doesn’t even realize that he hasn’t seen the sun in nearly a week

But he doesn’t necessarily mind, it’s nice to not be boiling underneath the harsh gaze of the sun

It’s hard when he sits behind that thick windshield of the bus all day long, the bus with the shitty AC system that doesn’t fully work the way it should

So Paterson isn’t necessarily fond of hot, sunny days

But it’s autumn now

The Sun has moved further away from the Earth, easing up on its glare, cooling the air and soil beneath him

It's autumn now, and Paterson doesn’t mind the sun as much as he usually does because of it

He especially doesn’t mind it when he comes home to you, on a particularly sunny day, wearing less layers than usual as you bask in the sun, in the dinning room, reading William Carlos Williams, one of his books

The way you’ll tilt your head back every now and then, and close your eyes, just taking in the rays before you return back to the page you’re so stuck on

Reading the lines over and over again, trying to understand them in that profound way that comes to Paterson so naturally

He watches you from his spot in the doorway, not daring to move a muscle and startle you, he just wants to take in this beautiful image before him

The last remnants of the warm afternoon sun drafting into the dining room, the windows open, letting the soft breeze twist and curl around the curtains and kiss your skin, softly enough to raise a few goosebumps

But not enough to make you go and grab one of Paterson’s sweaters that you love so much

You’ll notice him eventually, but for now he notices you

Watches you as you soak in so much sunshine and store it away for a gloomy day when you’re not feeling so hot

The gloomy days in Paterson aren’t as easy for you, they get you down a lot more easily

On those days, Paterson reminds you of the sunshine that’s right around the corner

Waiting for you to bask in it again

[kittysukagasterfics]

INCORRECT QUOTES: STUPID, STUPIDER, YET STUPIDER.

In which I finally toss V-0 into the mess because why not. There's a lil blurb about him over on Random's blog because i submitted a doodle sheet to her, you'll find it in the submissions tag.

Warnings for potentially suggestive wording, themes, and content on some of them because V-0 is an absolute weirdo. There's nothing explicit, but there's a little more weird than usual.

-

Ghost: BEHOLD, the field in which I grow my &@#$s! Lay thine eyes upon it, and thou shalt see that it is barren!

X: WE GET IT, YOU'RE HAVING A WILLIAM SHATNER DAY.

-

Inversion, playing a VR game: You see, that’s the thing. It PROBABLY is fine. It’s PROBABLY 100% okay. There are PROBABLY no spiders in this headset.

Inversion: BUT- as you may be able to relate to- If you find a spider in your headset, and then have to put that headset on to play video games...

Inversion: YoU jUsT dOnT gEt ToO cOMfOrTaBlE.

-

V-0: 'Person of interest' is almost too flattering.

V-0: Like, if the police were to pound on my door and go, 'A man has been murdered in your building and you are a person of interest,' I'd be like, 'Moi? Oh, do go on.'

Memoryhead: There is SOMETHING wrong with you.

-

Z: What doesn't kill me should run, because now I'm &$@#ing +&-$ed.

-

Ghost: Not trying to brag or anything, but I can wake up without an alarm clock now simply due to my crippling and overwhelming anxiety, so...

-

Creator: I’ve come to a point in my life where I need a stronger word than %$@#.

-

V-0: When someone points at your black clothes and asks whose funeral it is, having a look around the room and saying 'Haven’t decided yet' is typically a good response.

Everyone:

Sam: * … You don't get it.

Endis: Please stop talking.

Memoryhead: If you don't shut your mouth it'll be yours, you off brand my chemical romance disaster.

Sam: * You tell Memoryhead and Endis that they shouldn't be so mean to V-0.

Memoryhead: I'm sorry, have you met him?

-

Starscream: I’d like to offer you moral support, but I have questionable morals.

-

RGB, pointing: May I sit there?

Gaster: … That's my lap.

RGB: That doesn't answer my question, Doctor.

-

Z: I slept for almost 12 hours but I might still be tired so lets go for 12 more just in case.

Undyne: Uhh, Z, that's a coma.

Z, curling up in her blanket nest again: Sounds festive.

-

Sam, holding a fancy antique bottle: * Gaster wanted to drink out of this bottle but you don't know what's in here. Is this whiskey or perfume?

Memoryhead: Let me check.

Memoryhead: *chugs entire bottle*

Sam:

Gaster:

Memoryhead:

Memoryhead: It’s perfume.

-

Sam: * Do they think they'd actually notice if someone didn't cast a shadow? Or if their limbs were just slightly too long? Or if they had just a little too many teeth? Like… how many times have they passed something on the street and they just didn't notice it?

V-0: Stay woke monster%@#+ers, your love is out there!!!!!

Gaster: … You know what? Not their point at all in any way whatsoever.

Sam: * But you're glad you could be an inspiration!

-

Memoryhead: What the %$@+ is wrong with you?!

Endis, having almost killed Gaster: Wow, you could start with a 'good morning'.

Memoryhead: Oh, sorry. Good morning, WHAT THE %$@# IS WRONG WITH YOU?!?!

-

Aroz: Top 30 reasons why Aroz is not sorry... Number 5 will surprise you!

Z: Top 30 anime deaths. Number One: YOUR &+)%ING @$= RIGHT NOW!!!

Aroz, running away: Oh $@#& oh $#%& oh $#%& oh $#%& oh $#%& oh $#%& oh $#%& OH $#@% OH $#@% OH $#@% OH $#@% OH $#@% OH $#@% OH $#@% OH $#@% OH $#@% OH $#@% OH $#@% OH $#@% OH $#@% OH $#@% OH $#@% OH $#@% OH $#@% OH $#@% OH $#@% OH $#@% OH $#@% OH $#@% OH $#@% OH $#@% OH $#@% OH $#@% OH SH-

-

V-0: I'm 10 times funnier and sexier than you~.

Gaster: 10 times 0 is still 0, moron.

V-0, slapping his rear end like a degenerate: Jokes on you $#@'&, I can't do math!

-

Lucky: Bad things keep happening to us, like we have bad luck or something.

Z: Lucky, sweetness, we don't have bad luck. The reason bad things happen to us is because we're dumb$#%es.

-

V-0: Is letting someone win at chess sapio%$@#&- bottoming?

Z, covering Sam's ears: Do any of your braincells in that godforsaken skull of yours ever think before they give you words to speak???

-

Inversion: *Kicks the door down looking panicked*

Memoryhead: What did you do?

Inversion, putting out the fire on his coat: NOBODY DIED I SWEAR.

Memoryhead: WHAT KIND OF ANSWER IS THAT?!

Inversion: NOTHING-

Inversion: *flees in terror through the ocean of worms on strings*

Memoryhead:

Memoryhead: Ah, that's what you did.

-

X: Don’t worry, I have a few knives up my sleeve.

Ray: I-I think you may mean- … uhh, m-mean cards...?

X, pulling knives out of his sleeves: No, I do not.

-

Memoryhead: You know, not every problem can be solved with a sword.

Rin Winterway: That's why I carry two swords.

Memoryhead and Agate: *gasp*

Agate: Ultimate lesbian power.

Memoryhead: I gotta start carrying two swords.

-

Sam: * Three words. Say them, and you're his.

Gaster: Three words.

Sam: * …

-

Lucky: %$@#.

Hope: We've got to work on your cursing.

Lucky: Why? I'm pretty good at cursing alread- You meant work on not cursing, I am a fool.

-

Z, in Doctor Conway's lab: Welcome, fellow idiots.

Sam: * Hi mom!

Z: No, no, not you, you're not an idiot.

Sam: * She underestimates your power.

Z: And you greatly overestimate the height of the bar. It is so much lower than you could even hope to reach, Sam. You will never be an idiot.

Sam, crying: * Take that back.

Z: First go do self care, then we'll talk.

-

Gaster, cuddled up to Sam: You're the love of my life and my best friend, I would do anything for you.

Sam: * You want him to eat three meals a day and have a decent sleep schedule.

Gaster, scuttling to the far corner, hissing like a feral cat: Absolutely not.

-

V-0: If you were to vacuum up jello through a metal tube, well I think that’d be a neat noise!

Inversion: I… beg to differ…

V-0: Then beg.

-

Z: This is bothering me.

Endis: Well, you are digging up a corpse.

Z: No, not that. That's, uh, pretty par for the course, actually.

Z, pointing to V-0: It's the fact that he insisted on wearing fishnets that's bothering me.

Endis: … He's an adult skeleton and you are 83,000 years old?

Z: Sam is literally RIGHT HERE. Also my brain never evolved past the emotionally abused and anxiety ridden teenager stage.

-

Sam: * What do they think Z will do for a distraction?

Memoryhead: She'll probably, like, make a noise or throw a rock. That’s what I would do.

*Building explodes and several car alarms go off*

*Feral animatronic screaming*

*Loud killbill sirens*

Z: *exits the collapsing building unscathed as said building knocks over a nearby skyscraper and obliterates a news helicopter*

Everyone:

Lucky: ... Or she could do that. That works too.

-

I apologize for any psychological damage V-0 has caused, is causing, and will cause.

~~~~~~

I don’t know who V-0 is either so of course Sam hasn’t met him. Also, Sam will forever and always be everyone’s favorite lovable doofus. :)

[multiverseofimagines]

Request Rules

hey guys! just juicing up my profile so I’m making this and a masterlist! If you see this in any of the tags I have down, please feel free to request!

What Can You Request?

Imagines 

Blurbs

Headcanons 

Inspired by; songs

Ships ( you need to let me know what fandom(s)

Moodboards 

What Will I Write?

Smut (Everything but pure Incest.) 

Fluff ( Everything but extremely pregnant/ or specifically children.)

Angst ( Everything but abortion ) 

Mental Health Trope ( Not for Actors.)

Specific Reader Characteristics ( thicc! skinny!) 

What I Won't Write 

Nothing about children. It makes me feel extremely uncomfortable. Unless it's a domestic blurb or imagines where I mention you having children with said person, I will not write specifically about giving birth/ being extremely pregnant nor about just hanging out with your children. 

Incest this does not include ddlg, daddy kink, nor step daddy tropes. only actual incest is forbidden. anything else is fine. 

I do not write for stranger things anymore, due to experience on here with hate and toxicity.

Will only write for Elton under platonic, male x male or specific standards, such as before he came out, and or before his career/meeting John Reid.

Abortion

Self-harm  (not including anorexia or binge eating.) 

Who I Write For

anyone who is highlighted is who I mostly enjoy writing for.

Rocketman

Taron Egerton (incl. All of his Characters.)

Richard Madden (incl. All of his Characters .)

Charlie Rowe (As Himself and Ray Williams.)

Jamie Bell ( As Himself and Bernie Taupin.)

Kingsman

Colin Firth ( As Himself and Harry Hart)

Merlin

Eggsy

Roxy

The Beatles

John Lennon

Paul Mcartney

Ringo Star

George Harrison

Yesterday

Himesh Patel ( As Himself and Jack Malik)

Gavin

Rocky

Crüe & The Dirt

Nikki Sixx ( booth! Or not.)

Vince Neil ( webber! Or not.)

Mick Mars ( iwan! Or not.)

Tommy Lee ( MGK! or not.)

Queen & Borhap

Freddie Mercury (borhap! Or not.)

Brian May (borhap! Or not.)

Roger Taylor (borhap! Or not.)

John Deacon ( borhap! Or not.)

Rami Malek ( incld. All Characters.)

Joe Mazzello ( incl. All Characters.)

Gwilym Lee

Ben Hardy

Lucy Boynton

Other

David Bowie ( plus king Jareth.)

Elton John ( rockt! or not)

[merzbow]

Who are some of your fav non-white musicians? They are incredibly underrepresented and I really want to listen to and support more of them

oh my god, where to start? there’s so many and it’s all like, varying across a bunch of genres and some aren’t the most accessible but i’ll name the ones off the top of my head, some with description so you can decide who to listen to from what you think you might like.

The Mars Volta — progressive rock. one of my favorite bands of all time. almost everyone that played in TMV was/is non-white (and they had a lot). TMV was the Omar and Cedric show, but there would be no TMV without founding members Jon Theodore (one of my favorite drummers of all time) and the late Ikey Owens (who was their pianist). listen to De-loused in the Comatorium (2003) from beginning to end, and if you end up liking TMV, then work your way through their discography. it’s worth it.

At the Drive-In — post-hardcore, progressive. Omar and Cedric’s previous band. the most influential, and arguably the most important post-hardcore band of all time. every one except Jim Ward and his replacement is non-white. start with their third studio album Relationship of Command (2000), and if you have never heard their song One Armed Scissor, you absolutely have to.

Omar Rodríguez-López — progressive rock, indie pop, almost every genre under the sun. one of my favorite guitarists of all time. it’s impossible to condense his 49 album discography (and those are just solo albums) into a blurb so i’m not gonna try. afro Puerto-Rican. multi-instrumentalist (guitar, bass, to name a couple), producer, composer, songwriter, director. it’s easier to list the things Omar isn’t and hasn’t done.

Dance Gavin Dance — post-hardcore, progressive. DGD has a long, complicated history, but almost every album they have ever released is solid. their guitarist, founder, and honest-to-god visionary Will Swan is one of my favorite guitarists of all time. Will is black and latino (specifically half Mexican). i’ve been a fan since 2010. the best albums to start with are probably the last two latest releases which are Artificial Selection (2018) and Mothership (2016), but my personal favorite albums are Dance Gavin Dance (self-titled, 2008), Happiness (2009), and Acceptance Speech (2013)

the rest of the recommendations are under this read more bc this is long.

Hail the Sun — post-hardcore, progressive. Donovan Melero is one of my favorite drummers of all time, he’s also the front man/vocalist of HTS. He’s Latinx, specifically Mexican-American. Guitarist Aric Garcia is also Latinx. my favorite HTS album is Wake (2014), but their latest album Mental Knife (2018) is a good place to start. 

Sianvar — progressive rock/post-hardcore. super group consisting of the previously mentioned favorites Will Swan (Dance Gavin Dance), Donovan Melero (Hail the Sun), and Sergio Medina (Stolas). they recently went on a indefinite hiatus/disbanded this year. they have one self titled EP released in 2014, and a studio album called Stay Lost (2016).

Secret Band — post-hardcore, progressive, on the heavy side. side-project/side-group of Will and the other DGD members, basically DGD without the clean vocals/singing.

Royal Coda — post-hardcore, progressive. super-group consisting of the (again) previously mentioned favorites Will Swan (Dance Gavin Dance), Donovan Melero (Hail the Sun), Sergio Medina (Stolas, Sianvar) and ex-Dance Gavin Dance singer Kurt Travis. definitely listen to Compassion (2019).

Frank Ocean — indie pop. probably the most popular artist i’ve mentioned, besides Earl, or DG, or Denzel. also probably my favorite singer of all time, also probably my favorite bisexual of all time. listen to Blond (2016).

Mitski —indie pop. Mitski is bisexual, Japanese-American woman. her music honestly means a lot to me, all the topics are so personally relatable as another bi asian girl. Puberty 2 (2016) is my favorite Mitski album.

Japanese Breakfast —indie pop. Michelle is a bisexual, Korean-American woman. listen to Psychopomp (2016).

FKA twigs—indie pop.Twigs is incredibly talented, if you like musicians like Kate Bush then she’s perfect for you; she makes incredible music and I couldn’t recommend MAGDALENE (2019) enough.

JPEGMAFIA — experimental rap. Peggy’s latest album All My Heroes Are Cornballs (2019) was released just recently (september 13!), while that’s a good album to start with i recommend starting with his second studio album Veteran (2018). favorite songs from Veteran to name a few are: Baby I’m Bleeding, I Cannot Fucking Wait Until Morrissey Dies, 1539 N. Calvert, and Rock N Roll is Dead.

Denzel Curry — experimental rap. start with Ta13oo/Taboo (2018), or ZUU (2019)

Danny Brown — experimental rap. start with either Atrocity Exhibition (2016) or XXX (2012), either way, you can’t go wrong.

Earl Sweatshirt — experimental rap. honestly, pick any of his three studio albums to listen to and you’re set, but Doris (2013) is probably the most accessible/easiest album to start with.

Death Grips — experimental rap. y’all already probably know who DG are and who Ride is, so i don’t have to introduce them/him. recommended: Exmilitary (2011), No Love Deep Web (2012), and The Money Store (2012).

Kero Kero Bonito — indie pop. Sarah Midori Perry, also known as Sarah Bonito, is British-Japanese. listen to Bonito Generation (2015)

Covet — math rock, instrumental. their front woman/guitarist, Yvette Young, is Chinese-American.

Stolas — post-hardcore, progressive. disbanded in 2018, still worth listening to. this is Sergio Medina’s original band, again if you ended up liking ATDI, or TMV, or DGD, you will absolutely love Stolas. Sergio is latino (specifically Mexican and Argentine), i absolutely love his guitar playing, he’s honestly so underrated.

honorable mentions, not necessarily my favorites but i do like and listen to these bands/artists/musicians.

Animals As Leaders — progressive metal, instrumental. there’s nothing about Tosin Abasi’s guitar playing i can say that thousand of others haven’t said before, he’s beyond amazing. Tosin is Nigerian-American, and AAL’s second guitarist Javier Reyes is latino. If you like heavy virtuoso/technical music like maybe, Dream Theater, then AAL is perfect for you.

Nova Charisma — progressive rock. this is Donovan and Sergio’s current side project, Nova Charisma is officially just a duo but their drummer is ex-Stolas drummer Carlo Marquez (who is close friends with both Donovan and Sergio). Nova Charisma is boneless TMV, and i mean that in a very good way (both Donovan and Sergio are heavily influenced by TMV and ATDI). that might change with future releases though, since they only have a three song EP out as of right now.

Periphery — progressive metal. guitarist and founder Misha Mansoor is insanely fucking talented. Misha is Indian-Mauritian.

Chon — progressive rock, instrumental. Mario Camarena, Nathan Camarena, and Esiah Camarena are all Mexican-American.

Polyphia — progressive rock, instrumental. Tim Henson, their guitarist, is half Chinese.

Trivium — early stuff is metalcore, current stuff is metalcore and thrash metal influenced american heavy metal Matt Heafy is Japanese-American, and does a mean James Hetfield impression if you’re into that.

popular/mainstream bands that have members of color and/or musicians of color that i also enjoy/love that you probably already know of:

Metallica (Metal/Thrash Metal. this one’s pretty obvious, since this is a Metallica blog… anyway, Kirk is Filipino (like me), and Rob is Mexican-American/latino.)

The Smashing Pumpkins (Rock. their guitarist, James Iha, is Japanese-American. you have to listen to Siamese Dream and Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness.)

Jimi Hendrix (Rock. Jimi is black, and the greatest guitarist of all time, duh, i don’t have to explain this one.)

John Coltrane (Jazz. the jazz GOAT. listen to A Love Supreme.)

Miles Davis (Jazz. Miles is the GOAT beside Coltrane, if you’ve never listened to Bitches Brew you absolutely have to.)

Rage Against The Machine (Rap metal. Tom Morello is black and Zach de la Rocha is latino.)

Deftones (Rock. Almost all of the band members are latino, with the exception of their first bassist who was Asian and a couple of others.)

Jane’s Addiction (Hard rock. Dave Navarro is latino.)

Soundgarden (Grunge. Kim Thayil is Indian.)

Alice In Chains (Grunge. William DuVall is black and Mike Inez is Filipino.)

My Chemical Romance (Pop-punk. Ray Toro is latino.)

Fall Out Boy (Pop-punk. Pete Wentz is black.)

Playboi Carti (Rap. Carti’s black. please listen to Die Lit.)

Megan Thee Stallion (Rap. Meg is absolutely lovable and supremely talented, and I absolutely adore her. steam her music!)

LAST UPDATED: August 7, 2020

[readingbooksinisrael]

Poetry, Short stories and Articles Read This Month

Articles

How anti-Semitism led Shatner and Nimoy to Boldly Go to Hollywood/Nathan Abrams-Probably because I read a whole thesis which included this small topic in it before I read this but it felt very unsatisfactory. It did talk about what of his Jewishness Nimoy put into the character of Spock but mostly it seemed to mourn that Shatner didn’t seem to do that with Kirk. Probably a good read if you’re looking to read something quick on Jews putting their Jewishness into a character (not necessarily Nimoy’s into Spock).

Heinlein’s Juveniles vs. Andre Norton Young Adult Novels/James Davis Nicoll-This was a nice overview of where the two authors differed and how we see them in the modern day. I think I’ll check out an Andre Norton sci fi book despite not liking her prose in the one (non-sci fi) book of hers I read.

Did We ALL Write a Book About Space Elevators? Why Unfortunate Coincidences Happen In Science Fiction/James Davis Nicoll-Too short. It didn’t really explore it’s premise. 

Poems

The Immortal/Robert Sanders Shaw-no link available. It’s really bad. It sounds immature.

Short Stories

On Venus, Have We Got a Rabbi/William Tenn-I’m going to admit that despite hearing of this over and over it took a few tries for me to read it. It has a rambling style that was hard for me to get into, especially when I saw how long it was for a short story. What I recommend is listening to the audio as it really gets you in the atmosphere-since the story is written with a very characterized narrator. All that said, after the real story started I got pulled in and I really liked it. 3.5/5 stars

For He Can Creep/Siobhan Carroll-TW: self harm, suicide mention, 18th c. mental hospitals. This was a lot of fun. I really enjoyed the style it was written in-from the POV to the dialogue to the descriptions.

The Thames Valley Catastrophe/Grant Allen-I liked this one. I enjoyed the writing style. TW: body horror 4.2/5 stars

The Doom of London/Robert Barr-I thought I would like this one less than the other because I don’t like the style of breaking up a short story into sections, but after the first section I got pulled in enough to enjoy it. The concept was really cool and the invention concept was also really cool. TW: death, gore?, body horror 4/5 stars

The Tilting Island/Thomas J. Vivian and Grena J. Bennett-I can’t find a link for this one. The beginning started out good but then the authors weren’t able to uphold the suspense in a way that the end was satisfactory. 2.7/5 stars

Finis/Frank Lillie Pollock-I did not like this one. Partially it was because the blurb I read about it was wrong and so I expected the wrong things out of it, but it is also because that while the story centers on the characters the characters don’t have any personalities. 2/5 stars

An Express of the Future/Jules Verne-The blurb for this said that it went missing for many years. I am not surprised because it is not well written at all. It ends with it all being a dream which every kid knows is a bad plot device unless you have a very good excuse. 2/5 stars

The Ray of Displacement/Harriet Prescott Spofford-I would have enjoyed this even with the paragraphs of jumbled science language if it hadn’t been for St. Angel. He appears out of nowhere and it isn’t clear who he is or what he is doing or even how he gets to where the main character is. Unfortunately, the end is centered around him. Other than him I enjoyed the character of Judge Brant and there were some really funny sentences. 2/5 stars

Congealing the Ice Trust/Capt. H.G. Bishop-Again, I can’t find a link. That’s disappointing because this one was fun even if the plot was a bit hard to follow (with the addendum that I was in pain while reading it). 4/5

Lord Beden’s Motor/J.B. Harris-Burland-I’m starting to think that I shouldn’t try to review stories I read while I was woozy with pain (even though I’m reviewing them while in pain too). I think all I can say is that it’s a ghost story and ghost stories just aren’t to my personal taste so it didn’t interest me.

The Death-Trap/George Daulton-no link again. It has that thing of trusting someone immediately cause they seem gentle which I don’t like for many reasons. I wish it concentrated more on the search for the monster and finding it because the monster itself was pretty cool. TW: gore 2.5/5 stars

The Air Serpent/Will A. Page-no link. It’s really cool that this concept existed because with our modern day knowledge it’s impossible outside of high fantasy. Unfortunately for the story, our modern day knowledge of how prey animals work sort of ruined it for me. 3/5 stars

The Monster of Lake LaMetrie/Wardon Allan Curtis-Gotta love the sharp turn into eugenics. It’s a pity because before that the story was really cool. 1/5 stars

The Voice in the Night/William Hope Hodgeson-This was pretty cool. I’m not sure if you shouldn’t read it if you love or hate mushrooms though. Personally, I belong to the second camp, so maybe it’s don’t read it if you’re disgusted by fungi. 3/5 stars

The Land Ironclads/H.G. Wells-It’s definitely interesting to read from a modern perspective. I liked the character of the mc and that the story didn’t wash over the deaths but didn’t describe them in detail either.

The Dam/Hugh S. Johnson-The plot twist is very clever but the building up to it took too long, and the two captains and their rivalry was confusing to me. 2.5/5 stars

Submarined/Walter Wood-I liked it, and I feel like I shouldn’t because it ended pretty violently but I did. Daring and sacrifice and all that is very feel-good, and it was well-written. 5/5 stars

The Purple Terror/Fred M. White-Could we have this without the racism please? It was good except for the underlying racism all throughout. 2/5 stars

Professor Jonkin’s Cannibal Plant/Howard R. Garis-This was definitely a change from the other stories. They were all adult fiction and this is MG fiction. It was okay, nothing special. 3/5 stars

An Experiment in Gyro Hats/Ellis Parker Butler-This continues the sort of humor that’s in the last story but it’s back to adult fiction which, personally, I enjoy more when it comes to this kind of humor. I liked the narrator’s voice. 3.5/5 stars

The Hybrid Hyperborean Ant/Roy L. McCardell-The idea was nice but it could have been better executed. I felt like I was told the story rather than experiencing it. 2/5 stars

Where the Air Quivered/L.T. Meade and Robert Eustace-Pretty cool, but nothing special. 4/5 stars

In Re State vs Forbes/Warren Earle-This was less science fiction and more ghost story. Again, ghost stories don’t really interest me so I can’t review it properly but I found the ending to be far too unrealistic with no explanation for my taste.

Old Dr. Rutherford/D.F. Hannigan-Ugh. The writing itself was fine but I absolutely hated the main character; usually that doesn’t bother me but I hated him so much that it did here. I think it would have been much more interesting if it had been written from Hafiz’s POV instead of an omniscient one. 2/5 stars

Itself/Edgar Mayhew Bacon-This was a really good one. I loved the storytelling. I might try to find more stories by the same author to read. 4.5/5 stars

Citizen 504/Charles H. Palmer-This is interesting in that it’s an early dystopian story. Less interesting in that because it’s an earlier one it has the same plot points of every modern one and wraps up everything neatly with a bow. I wish he’d taken the time to explore the world more. 3/5 stars

The Mansion of Forgetfulness/Don Mark Lemon-Finally a story with a link. It’s a good story to choose to end an anthology on as it’s short and wraps up well but not too nicely (with a bow). Although it’s short and the ending is expected the execution is done well in my opinion. 3.5/5

[zephanofthewind]

Tag Meme!

Tagged by @turnaboutwriter​. Thank you friendo! ❤️

The rules are to shuffle your playlist and list the first 10 songs that come up! I have quite a few songs in Hindi and Japanese because bollywood and anime. So hopefully we’ll see an interesting mix here. I will also link a video for each song and a quick blurb about how I came by the song, my feelings on it, or some other interesting tidbit. But this is not necessary at all for the tag meme.

1) Doin’ it Right by Daft Punk: Daft Punk is one of my all time favorite artists. I love the way they make music through the gradual addition and subtraction of song elements. It’s simple but builds really interesting complexity, plus it’s nice to do work to.

2) West Coast Smoker by Fall Out Boy: FOB is another all time fav. Huge fan of their sound, will often sing their songs in the shower if I need to find energy to get through the day. First concert I went to was a FOB concert.

3) Shine by Jeff Williams & Casey Lee Williams: Beautiful song, love the RWBY soundtrack. Still hoping Jaune and Phyrra have a happy ending somehow. 

4) Guzarish from Ghajini: A lot of bollywood in my library is just love songs due to the nature of bollywood. I wish love songs didn’t get a disproportionate amount of the good beats. 

5) Tere Mast Mast Do Nain from Dabangg: Once again a love song from bollywood. But I love the emotion in this song (unfortunately ruined by the movie’s goofiness in my opinion). Dabangg was certainly a fun film to watch.

6) Dola Re Dola from Devdas: Absolutely loved the intensity of the song and choreography. Also it’s Madhuri Dixit and Aishwarya Rai; it’s like this song represents the passing of the crown from one queen of bollywood to another.

7) I Burn by Jeff Williams, Casey Lee Williams, & Lamar Hall: I stan Yang, that is all.

8) The Diary by Hollywood Undead: Hollywood Undead has been an old favorite of mine. Still thankful to my friend Sam for introducing this to me all those years ago, helped me deal a lot with my buried feelings.

9) Study X Study by StylipS: So as much as I dislike fanservice in anime...Highschool DxD is a guilty pleasure of mine, and I’m unapologetic. Yes, I’m a hypocrite, but at least the song is catchy and I love the lyrics.

10) This Game by Konomi Suzuki: I find it kinda apt that we end the list with This Game. No Game No Life is a favorite anime of mine if you couldn’t tell by my blog. This song is a great way to make me feel pumped up and inspired.

I’ll just tag *all of my mutuals. @biafloki, @youmaywindupinmynovel, @shooting-stars-andsatellites, @isabelevennecessary, @storybookprincess, @transroadwarrior, @steelroses, @bleusriley, @ajeneration, @lostinatardis

But to whoever else wants to participate, please go right ahead.

[livinginlandmarketing]

The bold, almost science-fictional new Riverside Main Library, due to open June 26, hosted its first event this week — one that was, by contrast, very homey.

Patricia Lock Dawson, the mayor, and Susan Straight, the writer, convened in a meeting room Wednesday, May 26, to talk about their childhood memories of the previous library. The two city natives both frequented the library as girls within years of its 1963 opening.

From left, Riverside Mayor Patricia Lock Dawson, writer Susan Straight and moderator Susan Toscano talk about the old Main Library during a virtual fundraiser for the Riverside Library Foundation at Riverside’s new main library in downtown on Wednesday, May 26, 2021. (Photo by Watchara Phomicinda, The Press-Enterprise/SCNG)

Writer Susan Straight holds up a copy of her book “In the Country of Women” during a virtual fundraiser for the Riverside Library Foundation at Riverside’s new main library in downtown on Wednesday, May 26, 2021. (Photo by Watchara Phomicinda, The Press-Enterprise/SCNG)

Mayor Patricia Lock Dawson and writer Susan Straight talk about growing up in the old Main Library during a virtual fundraiser for the Riverside Library Foundation at Riverside’s new main library in downtown on Wednesday, May 26, 2021. (Photo by Watchara Phomicinda, The Press-Enterprise/SCNG)

Show Caption

of

Expand

“We would head straight for the beautiful pond with the bridge over it from our sister city of Sendai,” Straight, 60, said. While from an adult perspective the building was more utilitarian than the gracious Carnegie Library that preceded it, she said that “to us it felt truly magical.”

Lock Dawson, 56, agreed.

“It was very exotic as a little kid. It was like going to Disneyland, going to the library,” Lock Dawson said. The prospect, she said, used to make her “giddy.”

The library, an E-ticket ride? This was some high-level nerd talk.

Their chat was streamed live to a virtual audience — also a science-fictional touch — who’d donated to the Riverside Public Library Foundation and thus raised some $8,000 for library support. A half-dozen library employees and Foundation volunteers were in the room for the conversation, led by Susan Toscano, Foundation president.

Yours truly was present too. For the occasion I wrote a T-shirt featuring public library advocate Ray Bradbury, speaking of high-level nerdiness. Straight was so delighted, she requested a photo with me afterward.

We were in a small meeting room dubbed the Carnegie Room. Its name is a nod to the old Carnegie Library, which stood on a downtown corner from 1903 to its 1963 demolition. The Chinese Pavilion stands on that spot today.

The room’s two wooden tables are among four saved from the Carnegie. And its two lamps, standing about 9 feet tall and with globes that mimic stained glass, used to glow outside the Carnegie’s entry steps. Bookcases lined with classic children’s literature add to the cozy effect.

Riverside’s new main library in downtown is seen Thursday, Jan. 21, 2021. It is nearly complete but because of the coronavirus pandemic, officials don’t know when it will open to the public. (Photo by Watchara Phomicinda, The Press-Enterprise/SCNG)

Contrast this with the library’s exterior. It’s a two-story white oblong with banks of windows along almost its full length. The whole structure is jacked 30 feet in the air on twin pedestals, as if the library were getting its oil changed.

Some love it, some hate it — I’m in the love-it category — but either way, this $43 million blast of modernism is eye-catching.

Inside the library, there will be no robots to serve you better, thankfully, just human librarians, ready to help you find books or answers, just as they’ve always done.

The 1960s library, the one Lock Dawson and Straight adored, was built paces away from the Carnegie and is now being renovated into a Chicano art museum.

In their conversation, Lock Dawson recalled writing her name on her first library card. Straight said she got hers at age 3. Favorite childhood books included “Blueberries for Sal” and “The Snowy Day” (Straight) and “Owl Moon” and “Dogteam” (Lock Dawson).

Both remain big readers. “I always have three or four books going at the same time,” the mayor said, with recent reads including “Euphoria” by Lily King and “Team of Rivals” by Doris Kearns Goodwin.

“Reading is my job,” Straight said, explaining that some books are read to review or to offer blurbs for the back cover, with others consumed purely for pleasure. Recent favorites are Joan Silber’s “Secrets of Happiness” and Claire Fuller’s “Unsettled Ground.”

Did you know the mayor likes to write? She doesn’t publish. As long as she doesn’t try her hand at newspaper columns, she and I will get along fine. Straight is, of course, an acclaimed novelist and memoirist, most recently of “In the Country of Women.”

In a fun touch, the names of the 60 people who’d signed up to watch the livestream were placed in a bowl, with Straight pledging to use the winning name in her next novel, “Mecca,” due out in 2022. The novel is now in the editing phase, with Straight ready to change the right character’s name.

Lock Dawson drew a slip and read it.

“It’s someone I know,” she said. “Bill Densmore.”

“I’m already thinking,” Straight said almost instantly. “William Densmore is a person who drives a very nice classic car. I’m thinking maybe a 1964 Impala.”

If Densmore is reading this, he’d better not get attached to the image of himself behind the wheel. Because a few minutes later, the taping over and goodbyes being said, Straight was already mentally revising.

“He doesn’t have a car, he has a horse,” she offered. “And he lives in Norco.”

And that was on Wednesday. By the time you read this column, the Densmore character may be roller-skating through Rialto.

More Riverside

I spent all day Wednesday in downtown Riverside, what with one thing or another: an interview, a ceremony, lunch, a tour of the library, the event summarized above and dinner.

There were a couple of minor milestones. At a ceremony by the Ahn Chang-Ho statue on the downtown mall, a woman gave me a wave.

I introduced myself, and Charlotte McKenzie became the first Press-Enterprise reader to tell me she’d recognized me from the newspaper. My best to her and husband Bob, both there representing the International Relations Council, for making me feel official. It took only 11 months.

After Ron Loveridge spoke, I introduced myself to the onetime mayor, and shortly afterward, I was ushered into City Hall to meet Lock Dawson. Nice chatting with them both.

Related Articles

DC’s ‘Legends of Tomorrow’ time travels back to 1955 San Bernardino

Day trip to LA by transit (to Amoeba, Daybird) brought back old feelings

A hot time in Palm Springs: art, food, kitsch

After 45 years, Barbara Cheatley to close her Claremont boutique

Joan Baez packed University of Redlands for ’64 homecoming concert

Let’s see, Loveridge was given the shorthand nickname MayorLuv by my Press-Enterprise predecessor Dan Bernstein. I’m not really a nickname guy, but for continuity’s sake I’m going to continue the tradition, at least for today, with Patricia Lock Dawson.

Or as I now think of her, the Notorious PLD.

brIEfly

May has been a bad month for Pomona. First, new state population rankings put the city in the Top 10 for numeric change, but in the negative column, for losing 1.7% of its residents. And on Thursday, the temperature listings on the Los Angeles Times weather page dropped Pomona/Fairplex in favor of Compton. Gee, and just one day after the LA County Fair changed its season from September to May due to … weather!

David Allen writes Friday, Sunday and Wednesday, weather or not we’re together. Email dallen@scng.com, phone 909-483-9339, like davidallencolumnist on Facebook and follow @davidallen909 on Twitter.

-on May 27, 2021 at 09:26AM by David Allen

[writingfortoomanyfandoms]

Ok but how about Ray with 8 from Kisses (First kiss), please? Thank you!

Sure thing man

Kisses 8 - First kiss

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

“Thank you for dinner,” Y/N said to Ray for about the hundredth time that night. Ray chuckled and shook his head.

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop thanking me?” He questioned and Y/N’s head fell forwards as she laughed, trying to hide her embarrassed expression.

“Sorry,” Y/N murmured, a comfortable silence falling between them.

Out of the corner of her eye Y/N could see Ray’s nervous expression and she contemplated asking him what the matter was but before she could, she felt his hand slip into hers.

Y/N bit her lip to prevent her smile from growing too wide and she shifted her hand just a little so that their fingers were interlocked. Ray and Y/N both stared in front of them, grinning madly at the tiny bit of PDA that they had been allowed.

“Maybe I can pay next time?” Y/N suggested after they rounded the corner to where her flat was. Ray had insisted on walking her home despite it being only a short walk away from the restaurant they had gone to and being in the opposite direction to Ray’s own home.

“Next time?” Ray repeated, delight clear in his voice.

“If there’s... going to be a next time?” Y/N offered unsurely.

“Of course there is!” Ray assured immediately. “I just... wasn’t sure if you’d want there to be...” he trailed off and Y/N giggled, looking up at him.

“Of course I do,” Y/N promised him.

The two of them stopped outside the entrance to Y/N’s apartment.

“I had a lot of fun tonight,” Y/N admitted shyly and Ray nodded.

“So did I - I always have a lot of fun when I’m with you, though,” Y/N wondered if she was capable of smiling even more after hearing Ray’s sweet words from throughout the evening.

“So we’re definitely doing this again, then?” He clarrified and Y/N giggled and nodded in confirmation.

“Definitely.”

“Then... I’ll give you a call,” he said, biting his lip and Y/N nodded. “Goodnight, Y/N.” Ray turned to leave, his hands shoved down into his pockets.

“Ray! Wait!” Y/N called, rushing up behind him. He turned around but before he could ask her what was wrong, Y/N cupped his jaw with her hands and lightly pressed their lips together. “Goodnight, Ray.”

Finishing blurbs from my 3K Celebration!!