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confessionsfromthesecondrow · 1 year

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Honey, We Shrunk the Interns.

Growing up, I never dreamed of pursuing a career in fashion. Right up until I left college in 2011, I was fixated on the idea of becoming a barrister. Although fashion was an avid interest of mine – one that I studied intensely, poring over my favourite magazines and keeping up with runway shows each season – it felt a million miles away from the reality of my quiet, suburban life. After all, it's not what you know, but who you know – fashion’s unofficial epitaph that is sadly still relevant over a decade later.

With no connections via relatives or family friends, I turned to Gaydar, determining that through the gay network I’d find an in. As luck would have it, I came across a young fashion photographer who put me in contact with his stylist flatmate to embark on my first internship.

I wasn’t paid a single penny, much to the dismay of my parents – who chose more reliable careers in building and finance – but my modest entry into the industry felt akin to the moon landing, at least to me anyway. I met models, hauled suitcases filled with returns on buses all over London, and peered inquisitively at the magic being made on set while steaming clothes in photo studios – marvelling at Prada samples that I recognised from the runway. I even met fashion royalty, in the form of Pam Hogg, who offered me a cup of tea when I turned up rain-soaked at her studio one sodden evening.

From there, an internship at GQ Style followed, the majority of which I spent sobbing in the bathroom thanks to the (nameless) editor at the time who often humiliated me with pointless menial tasks. In one instance, I was asked to hand deliver a single daffodil to Alasdair McLellan sans address, later loudly berated in the open plan office for the flower’s wilted demise by the time I was provided with the studio’s location.

My introduction to interning finished with a friendlier stint at Dazed – acquired via the gay network, once again – five years before I’d return in a full circle moment as a fashion editorial assistant.

Beyond the obvious hands-on experience my months of interning provided me, it quickly proved even more valuable than I realised. After initially being rejected by University of Arts London to study fashion journalism, a follow-up email clarifying the additional internships I’d undertaken quickly secured me an interview and later a prestigious place on the course.

Throughout my studies at university, we were encouraged to continue gaining industry experience, culminating in a term entirely dedicated to interning during my second year. Interviewing at Wonderland and 10 magazine, I chose the latter, and continued interning there throughout my final year – while simultaneously juggling my final major project, writing my dissertation, and a part-time job – until I ultimately became the publication’s fashion assistant upon graduation.

Over my career, I’ve had the privilege of working with hundreds of interns – the good, the bad, and the lazy – the brightest sparks among them going on to become my peers holding jobs at Clash, The Face, GQ, Wallpaper*, Matches, and British Vogue. As was my experience at 10, it was common for brilliant interns to find themselves earning entry-level full-time roles within Dazed and AnOther right up until the pandemic when the company’s internship programme was discontinued.

At the time, the Guardian reported that 61% of employers cancelled their placements due to the pandemic, with small and medium-sized businesses the most likely (49%) to do so. Yet, as we emerged from the two-year slump, internships were just as scarce, largely due to HMRC cracking down on unpaid internships – serving fashion publications (both the media and arts are serial offenders) with warnings of fines if they failed to pay interns the national minimum wage.

So, where does that leave today’s budding fashion journalists?

‘It is impossible, it literally feels like winning the lottery,” Moira Gonazález, an MA Fashion Communication student at Central Saint Martins tells me. ‘My plan was to join a team as an intern and work my way up, but it’s so difficult to start like that – maybe one person out of every 20 will reply and most of the time you don’t learn anything. I’ve ended up assisting so many stylists where I’ve just been in Ubers picking up stuff all around London. So many people still expect you to work full-time for free, which is crazy, but everybody’s willing to do it for fashion.’

Despite being required to complete 120 hours in the industry as part of her BA, Moira was the only person on her course who was successful in doing so. ‘The teachers said that if you worked on shoots for uni that it would count towards the hours, so there was no motivation to go out and get the experience,’ she says. ‘The process can also be so long, it took four months to get to the interview stage for an internship at Burberry. How can you survive living in London as a 20-year-old and pay rent if you have to wait for four months to get an answer? It’s impossible unless you’re privileged enough not to worry about money.’

To see for myself, I looked into fashion editorial internships in London to see what was currently available. Unsurprisingly, I failed to find a single placement to apply for and advice offered by the Business of Fashion overlooked the obvious, that no amount of experience or tenacity can help secure an internship if there aren’t any available to begin with. Reaching out to all the editors I knew, the results were marginally better with month-long placements available for university students only at 10 and the Evening Standard. The majority – including Elle, Wallpaper*, GQ, The Face, and Perfect – responded with a resounding no, with Vice allegedly going as far as implementing a company-wide ban on all internships.

Of the paid internships the government were hoping would become available, only Dazed and British Vogue currently offer them – both six months, full-time, and paid the London Living Wage – though at the time, the vacancies were filled. ‘I remember when British Vogue posted the internship on LinkedIn and after two days they already had 500 applicants,’ Moira says. ‘When I later saw who got the internship, she had worked at two banks previously, studied politics, and was 25 or 26 so had a much bigger CV. How can I even compete?’

‘For me, I’ve always found that there was never a clear route into the industry, I didn’t have a degree and my parents aren’t creative – there’s nobody in the creative industry in my immediate family. I wasn’t getting anywhere and couldn’t get my foot in the door,’ says Louis Merrion, Dazed Digital’s inaugural paid editorial intern. ‘I had come to a point where I was looking at unpaid internships, but I’d have to work weekends to be able to afford to commute from Southend. All of sudden you’re working seven days a week and you could come out of the end of it without having gained any experience. It’s easy to see why people get so disillusioned with the system.’

Three months into his tenure at Dazed, Louis’ day-to-day involves tasks that you'd expect for aspiring writers: shadowing working journalists, transcribing, researching, pitching and writing their own stories. ‘It feels more like an apprenticeship than an internship because of the learning aspect of it, you’re not expected to come in and know how the industry works straight away,’ he adds.

With several bylines now under his belt, Louis is already using the opportunity to gain additional experience working alongside Dazed’s social and Studio teams, which he hopes will set him in good stead once his internship ends. ‘I couldn’t ask for a better first creative job and the experience I’ve gained is invaluable,’ he says. ‘I now feel like somebody who is actually involved in the creative industry as opposed to being a part-timer; I have the belief that I could have a career in it. It’s not as far-reaching as it seemed six months ago.’

It sounds too good to be true and for most it will be – the cost of paying the LLW means that spaces on such internships are currently limited to two golden tickets per year. What do you do if you're not so lucky?

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An alternative path into the industry – thanks, in part, to the diversity reckoning fashion faced in 2020 – are mentorships that pair beginners with working creatives for 1-2-1 support over a six-month period.

Mentoring Matters (founded by Laura Edwards, a design director who has worked with Christopher Kane and Alexander McQueen), Room Mentoring (founded by Elle's editor-in-chief Kenya Hunt), RAISEfashion, and The Junior Network are a handful of these schemes born during the pandemic – generally aimed at aiding Black and brown creatives and those from working-class backgrounds.

In 2021 through Mentoring Matters, Aswan Magumbe, a BA Fashion Communication student at Central Saint Martins was paired with i-D’s global editorial director Olivia Singer. ‘Mentoring was more personal, so Olivia helped me pinpoint specific things I needed help with like pitching and how to approach PRs. I also got a lot more in-depth feedback about my writing,’ she shares. Yet, even with this, Aswan admits, ‘I’m still very stuck. Mentoring is good because you have somebody to turn to, but I still don’t know how to navigate internships. I really don’t know the route to take.’

As a working journalist, I’d be hesitant to take on a role as a mentor for this very reason. While I could impart practical wisdom on how to be a writer, I have no means of offering advice on where to practise those skills. While well-intentioned, these mentorship schemes are guiding marginalised voices into an industry that has been reluctant to give them a seat at the table to begin with. How responsible this is without fully understanding or doing more to remove the roadblocks that sadly still exist remains to be seen.

It’s a complex issue, yet to be properly acknowledged – the disheartening reality is that many editors I spoke to weren’t aware that their publications no longer offered internship opportunities. I urge them to similarly reflect on their own arduous journeys – regardless of whether they grafted as an intern or not – and question leadership on why they aren't putting more time and resources towards supporting the talents of tomorrow. Take a chance on a new writer with no bylines, become an unofficial mentor, answer that email asking for advice – do more!

We’ve talked enough about making opportunities more readily available for those who want to pursue a career in fashion – it’s time to finally do something about it.

#fashion #internship #intern #dazed #british vogue #vogue #essay #investigation #Instagram

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lavenderandpear · 1 year

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29/12/2022

One of my dearest friends used AI of some sort to create this picture of my dearest Matilda. He used prompts like studio ghibli, cottage core and lavender meadows to pull out this art style; it evokes the feeling of Matilda’s energy so well that everyone who see’s it and who knew her immediately recognises it. My friend had this image printed by a small batch printing company, and he’s shipping it to me. She’s so loved, even across the world.

I included some photos of the past few days, also. Currently I’m doing my best to push through Christmas leftovers and it’s less fun than it seems. I would like to be done with this, and able to eat the normal food again. Tonight we made pizzas and they had roasted pumpkin and carrot on the base with the sauce. Pumpkin was nice, carrot was a bit weird however.

I’ve been watering the garden a lot due to a couple 40c+ days we had, and I don’t want everything to die. Today I cleaned up the worm bin and bottled most of the wee that was in the reservoir. Today was a much cooler day so it was comfortable to work outside, however after a 40c+ day this 9c night is feeling lovely. The gentle breeze coming through the window is so gorgeous and soft, I have stayed up late just to enjoy it.

I should get to sleep now, though.

#blog

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abirpothi · 2 months

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Arnold Newman: Composing Art of Portrait Through Camera

Renowned American photographer Arnold Newman is well recognised for his unique approach to environmental portraiture. March 3, 1918, saw his birth in New York City, and he died June 6, 2006. By capturing his subjects in their natural settings and frequently employing dramatic lighting and composition to portray their personalities and occupations, Newman’s approach to portraiture transformed the genre.

Throughout his career, Newman took pictures of many famous people from various areas, including scientists, writers, singers, politicians, artists, and writers. His photographs frequently revealed his subjects’ inner selves and significance in their respective disciplines, capturing the soul of the subjects in a way that went beyond superficial physical likeness.

Igor Stravinsky, composer. New York, 1946.Credit…Arnold Newman/Courtesy of Howard Greenberg Gallery

Igor Stravinsky’s piano is depicted in one of Newman’s most well-known pieces, which captures the essence of the legendary musician in his creative setting. Newman’s reputation as one of the most significant portrait photographers of the 20th century has been cemented by the numerous exhibitions and publications of his images.

“When I make a portrait, I don’t take a photograph. I build it.” – Arnold Newman

The scope of Newman’s photographic career is considered in Building Icons, encompassing his early experiments, magazine assignments, creative portraits, corporate work, and reportage projects. The show also emphasises how vital periodicals were in helping to mould Newman’s career by fostering his ambition, educating and inspiring him, and solidifying his reputation. Examining Newman’s interaction with the popular press broadens our perspective on his creations, highlights the ingenuity of his technique, and confirms his indisputable influence on postwar visual culture.

Early Period

Through his work from 1938 to 1945, Newman experimented with abstract approaches, documentary style, and portraiture. Drawing from art reviews and images by various creators, such as the Farm Security Administration photographers Walker Evans, Edward Weston, Erwin Blumenfeld, and Berenice Abbott, he blended his fine art skills with what he saw in magazines.

“I began experimenting in abstraction, abstract realism, and social realism—if one must pigeonhole definitions. I became fascinated with the control of the camera and the ability to make it see as I saw.” –Newman

George Grosz, painter. Bayside, New York, 1942.Credit…Arnold Newman/Courtesy of Howard Greenberg Gallery

1938, Newman was employed at the Philadelphia department store Lit Brothers’ photography studio. He took pictures of the streets of the city during his lunch breaks. In the studio’s darkroom, he processed his negatives during the night.

“I read and looked up everything I could find on photography, returning to its beginnings and contemporary workers. My friends produced material from their libraries and freely gave their advice and time. My interest burned strongly within. I went to museums and bought and clipped magazines like Vanity Fair” – Newman

“The portrait is a biography; facts, not fiction or romanticised visions, must be documented.” Today’s magazine contains critical visual details that will become tomorrow’s history textbook. Newman captures his subjects’ lived environments in his “integrative portraits,” also known as environmental portraits. Even though the shots seem natural, Newman deliberately sets up his subjects’ homes or places of employment to highlight a particular facet of their personalities or lines of work. He would set up elements in the background on the walls or arrange them in the foreground to create an atmosphere. Newman developed his ability to read his subjects through careful planning for his photo assignments and a keen sense of how the final photographs would appear on a magazine page.

Photographing his people at their homes and workplaces—studios, living rooms, and other natural settings—set Newman apart from his peers. Because of his methods, Newman was called the father of the “environmental” portrait, but he objected to the title, arguing that his paintings were more appropriately described as “symbolic.” He would “build” his images using the hints he discovered in his subjects’ spaces by doing prior research on them. Newman, who had to drop out of school for financial reasons, had learnt to purposely fumble around the studio or cubicle until the sitter relaxed, especially if they were frightened or reticent.

‘Arnold Newman was a large, rotund, happy man for most of his professional life. He had a beard, curly dark hair, and a penchant for cigars. He loved to tell stories, often on himself. The stories would later constitute his lectures about sitters, who were usually quirky in a very human way. The story of his life was intertwined with the stories he told. Although he was called “the father of the environmental portrait,” Newman maintained that he was not the father of something the Dutch painters had done hundreds of years earlier and that environmental wasn’t the right word. Occasionally, he even took exception to the word portrait. His grudge match with these words was a function of his belief that labels of any kind were restrictive: “The minute you put a label on something, there is no room to move . . . I never thought in [those] terms, and I refuse to think in terms [of] labels”, writes Marianne Fulton in the book, Arnold Newman: At Work.

Carl Sandburg, poet and author, and Marilyn Monroe, actor. Hollywood, California, 1962.Credit…Arnold Newman/Courtesy of Howard Greenberg Gallery

Family is essential, as Newman has emphasized throughout his life and career. He developed ties with the spouses and children of his subjects as a result of this crucial idea. Unlike other photographers of the era, Newman often snapped additional family photos while on duty. Nearby are two pictures of American painter Andrew Wyeth: one in his studio alone, the other with his family.

Readers could comprehend the characters’ personalities and vocations because of Newman’s portraiture method, which involved posing his subjects in their homes or places of business while containing their personal belongings. This approach effectively illustrated the accompanying text on the magazine page and the corporate annual report.

For More Visit On: https://abirpothi.com/

#art #art news #artnewspaper #artist #indian artists #artwork #abstract art #arnold newman

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airadam · 1 year

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Episode 165 : The Second Plug.

"Too old to rhyme? Too bad, too late."

- Dave

This month marks a huge loss for the Hip-Hop community, and the music world more widely, as Dave, aka Trugoy The Dove of De La Soul, passed away. As part of the group, he was a perfect match with Pos on the mic, and was one of those low-key people that no-one ever had anything but good to say about. De La's influence is hard to overstate; without them, we might have had no Tribe, no Pharcyde, no Souls of Mischief... They showed that you didn't have to follow the hypermasculine style of their time, and brought their own brand of humour and creativity. On top of that, they were frequent and much loved live performers, and Dave's presence as part of one of the best shows in the culture will be greatly missed. Of course, in tribute, we have several De La Soul tracks in this month's selection.

Before we get into the tracklist and notes; here's where you can donate to relief efforts in Turkey and Syria following the devastating earthquake they suffered this month.

Twitter : @airadam13

Twitch : @airadam13

Events : events.airadam.com

Playlist/Notes

De La Soul : Stakes Is High

Knowing that we were going to make several visits to the De La catalogue, I just had to open the episode with this one, the title track to their fourth album. The late J Dilla is on production, and there's a classic story of Posdnuous having to "Jedi mind trick" Q-Tip out of taking the beat for himself! To Pos' ears, the majesty of the beat perfectly fit the grand theme De La were going for with the lyrical theme, and he was bang on. The title actually came from Dave's late cousin Fudge, who told him "...you all better do something. The stakes is really high for you right now..." and his words live on through this work. De La take that title and use it to warn how high the stakes were for Hip-Hop at that time, with the jiggy and Mafioso era in full swing and raising real alarm for the direction of the culture.

Pete Rock : Play Yo Horn

The first instrumental of the month is a 2015 release, though whether it was actually recorded anywhere near that year, I couldn't be sure! For one, Pete Rock is a master at channeling vintage flavours, and secondly, he's been known to bring stuff out of the vaults that sounds great even today. I would love to hear MCs getting busy on this dense cut from "Petestrumentals 2".

Fat Joe and Big Pun : Best Behavior (Remix)

I love the dark, late night flavour of the original version, but Show does an equally good job on this remix (one of at least three to exist) - big horns, banging drums, and an overall stripped-back, boom-bap feel. You already know Big Pun is going to give you heavy bars, and Fat Joe holds it down on the mic too. I have this on a 12" backed by "My Life's On The Edge" by A-Bless, but I hear it's also on the 2005 "Street Talk" DITC compilation.

Big L : On The Mic

This vinyl had already been throught the wars when I got it, but I guess the surface noise lends a certain flavour! You might recognise the vocals from the track "Size 'em Up" from the posthumously-released "The Big Picture" album, but this raw Roc Raida-produced track is on the B-side of the "Flamboyant" 12" single - definitely one to pick up for the Big L fans. RIP Big L and Roc Raida.

D'Angelo : Devil's Pie

One of those happy accidents, the bassline of this track was created by DJ Premier for a track with Canibus. It didn't work out and D'Angelo happened to call the same day, and he asked to hear the unfinished product. He loved it, and they went back to the studio the next day to finish what became one of the standouts on his sophomore "Voodoo" LP!

Mad Skillz : It's Goin' Down

Arguably the first MC to really make some noise out of Virginia (hence the name of his debut LP, "From Where???"), Skillz may not have the record sales of some of the more famous MCs...but he may well have written their rhymes at some point! This track is an early J Dilla production (from when he was going by Jay Dee), and has a little of the Latin flavour that would make up a big part of one of his better known productions, "Runnin'" for The Pharcyde. Also - don't Skillz and Big L have a very similar vocal tone?

[Pete Rock] InI : Fakin' Jax (Instrumental)

You can't be mad at getting another Pete Rock instrumental! This one is vintage SP action, the instrumental for the lead track from the originally-unreleased InI LP "Center of Attention", and it's a real "if you know, you know" number.

De La Soul : U Can Do (Life)

I decided to lead this off with part of the album intro that immediately precedes it on "Art Official Intelligence : Mosaic Thump", just so you could hear where the podcast intro comes from! The LP came four years after "Stakes Is High", an eternity in Hip-Hop, and marked a departure from their norm in one way - a relatively large number of featured artists. This track, however, is the core group coming from the heart, over a chunky beat from Supa Dave West. Dave/Trugoy both opens and closes the track, with his last line being "live your live to the fullest". He did just that. 🕊

Libretto & Buscrates : Culture

With so much music being released on a daily basis nowadays, it's too easy for a killer track like this to slip through the cracks, but I've got it here for your enjoyment! Libretto is speaking on the rawness of the streets and how that ties into the Hip-Hop culture from his perspective, while Buscrates smashes it with a beat that feels part classic sample and part bass synth workout. And of course, he has the drums thumping through. An absolute jewel from the "Eternal Ridin'" LP.

Sparkz : Overload

Manchester's own Sparkz has featured on the podcast many times with his contributions to various groups, but here he is as a soloist on his first release after moving to the UK's well-respected High Focus records. This single will test your bass response, but while heavy, the beat provides plenty of space for Sparkz' to give you a full mic workout. Keep an eye out for new material from this man.

De La Soul & J Dilla : No More No Less

What a track - a reworking of "The Magic Number" concept, over an officially unreleased beat from J Dilla (which you might find online, entitled "Watching Smurfs On Shrooms"). We take this one from an EP that was originally a free release, and hopefully still findable now - "Smell The DA.I.S.Y" (Da Inner Soul of Yancey) - with even the title being a remix, a revisiting of the "D.A.I.S.Y. Age" idea from the beginnings of De La. The whole EP is made up along similar lines, with De La revisiting old themes over unreleased Dilla beats. The relationship between De La and Dilla was real, and there are few other crews with as much claim to put out a project like this.

Blackalicious : My Pen and Pad

That pen and pad were working overtime for this excellent lyrical display from the late Gift of Gab. Flow is as dope as you'd expect, and Chief Xcel holds down the beat as usual on a low-key funk vibe that changes up occasionally in the background without ever stealing the focus. You can find this on Blackalicious' third LP, "The Craft" - perfectly titled for such a dedicated crew.

Evil Needle & Misha : Cloud Zone

This new release is the kind of thing that will slip under most radars, but is the kind of quality I've been finding since plugging into the whole Chillhop Music movement. It's beautiful beatmaking, warm and bumping, and the vocoded quasi-background vocal additions take it over the top. The opener on the "chillhop beat tapes: Evil Needle x Misha" six-tracker, this beat is a perfect example of coming out of the gate strong when you're ordering tracks on a release.

Brelstaff ft. Fashawn : Cursive

This brand-new release is quite the trans-Atlantic combination, with Edinburgh's Brelstaff cooking up a laidback instrumental for Fashawn, representing Fresno in California. Only a very short one, but sometimes, as GZA once said, it makes for a stronger track to cut it off early.

Beanie Sigel : Look At Me Now

"Moms? Tryna lock me out. Cops? Tryna lock me in." Wow, that is some heavy business in the first verse of this quality come-up album cut, that ends happily, with Beanie looking out for the youngsters who struggle as he once did. You can find this tucked away towards the end of the 2005 LP "The B. Coming", with Buckwild providing the lush, string-laden production.

Joell Ortiz : In My Feelings

No hook, no filler, just raw - feelings, indeed. Joell speaks on the ups and downs of his career without interruption on an ill Heatmakerz beat, opening up the 2021 "Autograph" album on an intensely personal note.

Ozay Moore, Vursatyl, and Chip-Fu : Slingshot

Seattle stand up! Ozay Moore brings friends through on this selection from the "Taking L's" album. It's nice to hear Chip-Fu of the Fu-Schnickens again, and with the tempo being relatively low, you can hear every word in his signature flow as he slows it to match. 14K is on production, and the kick is kicking like the police want to come through the door, but sometime in the next couple of hours or so :) The beat is heavy, but the timing of the composition is nicely relaxed!

J-Zone : The Commandments (Instrumental)

Labelled as "The Commandments" on the "J-Zone Instrumental Box Set: The Headband Years (1999-2006)" collection, this is the instrumental of the cut styled as "The Commandment$" from the 2003 "Sick Of Bein' Rich" album. Can't believe it's been twenty years already! He may have fully moved from Hip-Hop production and MCing into drumming, but you can't front on his great catalogue of previous work.

De La Soul ft. MF DOOM : Rock Co. Cane Flow

I was shocked to find out that I hadn't played this monster from "The Grind Date" on the podcast before, though maybe that was because the (manually-done!) speed changes make it awkward to mix with. As a closer though? Perfection. Jake One's beat just smashes through like Godzilla, building to the kind of grandness and drama that would fit the climactic action sequence of a Marvel film, and all the MCs are on form for it. The late MF DOOM fits right in alongside Pos and Dave as a devastating three-mic unit, and fittingly, Dave closes the track, and this epidose, out. RIP.

Please remember to support the artists you like! The purpose of putting the podcast out and providing the full tracklist is to try and give some light, so do use the songs on each episode as a starting point to search out more material. If you have Spotify in your country it's a great way to explore, but otherwise there's always Youtube and the like. Seeing your favourite artists live is the best way to put money in their pockets, and buy the vinyl/CDs/downloads of the stuff you like the most!

Check out this episode!

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write-like-babs · 2 years

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The Pros & Cons Of Sofa Beds

Sofa beds are actually well-liked selections for one wonderful cause - they're really positive to reconsider; if they weren't, they definitely would not be actually the popular option they are actually today. The lovely feature of sofa beds is actually the potential to exchange out cushions in time as they age, and also there is actually no scarcity of comfy mattress substitutes to pick from, like memory foam and also pillow-top choices.They are actually as comfy as a bed. Sofa beds, specifically these times, are actually lifeless comfy. They might in fact be actually extra comfy than your normal standard mattress!

Along with the included building help as well as devices needed to have to support the fold-out mattress, sofa beds possess an image for being actually large furniture pieces. Multi-functionality does not happen free of cost - these parts are actually sizeable and also flaunt the extra body weight of a whole mattress snuggled under the seatings. It is actually a really good suggestion to get the assistance of some beefy buddies to help in travelling over any type of tours of stairways or even challenging passageways when you buy your sofa bed.

The space-saving attribute of the sofa bed is just one of its own greatest marketing aspects, yet bear in mind that a sofa bed in operation uses up the very same room as a mattress - indicating that in a confined living-room or even studio apartment, a sofa bed requires the flooring room to fold up out as well as in fact serve. Battle this through assessing your room prior to you take the sofa bed residence as well as relocating some factors around to maximise the circulation of the area.

Sofa beds remain in as well as, yes, they are actually the future. Do not feel our company? Properly, you far better view your gents, women and also feets, given that our experts will lose some sound and also evenly valued expertise. Sofa beds are actually popular in these times and also permanently cause. They are actually efficient, economical and also definitely instead comfy.

It is actually a much, much better point that I carry out than I possess ever before carried out; it is actually a much, much better remainder that I go to than I possess ever before recognised. Are you going to claim along with the significant D? Acquire on your own a sofa bed Modern 3 seater sofa beds, especially these times, are actually lifeless comfy. Sofa beds happen along with creative space-saving components, therefore you are actually consistently prepared to go.It is actually a sofa; it is actually a bedroom - it is actually a sofa bed! As a style option, the sofa bed has actually arrived a lengthy method; coming from typically challenging as well as large technical monsters to that stylish, tough as well as straightforward choices to the traditional seat or even sofa.

We all understand that acquiring a bedroom and also a sofa can unleash chaos on the outdated banking company profile, therefore why certainly not merely carry out the clever factor? You may decide on up a good sofa bed at an extremely realistic cost and also certainly not possess to jeopardise considerably on top quality. Sofa beds are actually quite prominent these times as well as for excellent factor.

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yup-thats-me · 2 years

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Take care of you || Keanu Reeves x fem!reader

pairing: Keanu Reeves x fem!reader

warnings: periods nothing major, mentions of blacking out. Just fluff

summary: you're on your period and Keanu's there to help you through it

a/n: guess who's on her period? me ): anyways hope you enjoy!

masterlist

Keanu was shocked to say the least when he saw you laying on the living room floor, your body seeEmingly limp. Rushing to your side, he knelt down beside you.

"My love, you alright?" His face full of concern. You lifted your face from the wooden floor to look at him. Your face dull, the bright in your (e/c), that Keanu adored, non-existent. Oh he knew the look. You're on your period.

"I hate being a woman", you croaked. "It's so hard being a woman." He gave you a light smile before wrapping his hands around your fram, pulling you in for an embrace. He kissed the top of your head, rocking to side to side. "I know baby. I know," he whispered.

Keanu knew your periods were hard. The cramps were so bad that one time, you blacked out from the pain. From then on, he made it his responsibility to take care of you whenever your week arrived. But, he didn't know that today was the day as he had left the house before you woke up, having to go to the studio for filming.

You two stayed there for a minute before Keanu spoke up. "How about this? You watch a movie or anything you like and I'll make a quick round to the grocery store and get everything you need?" He suggested.

You looked at him in awe. He always knew ways to cheer you up whenever you're down. Smiling at him, you nodded your head.

He stood up and gestured for you to get up as well. "I feel like I'll die if I stand up", you whined. He chuckled at you. He scooped down again, lifting you up bridal-style and walked towards the couch before the tv screen. You gave ot a surprised yelp at his action, giggling at him.

He sat you down on the couch, and handed you the remote. You pouted, a sign that you wanted him to pick you a movie. Chuckling, he shook his head at your childish nature, the one he grew to love more and more. "What do you wanna watch?"

You thought for a minute before a smug smile spread across you plump lips. "John Wick." Keanu knew you'd choose that. The film was your comfort film and you absolutely loved John. Although Keanu would be ashamed to admit it, he was a bit jealous of John Wick seeing how much you adored him.

Smiling at you, he put on the movie. He turned back again to place a kiss on you're forehead. "I'll be quick". You giggled again. "You better be".

With that, Keanu left you with your movie for the grocery store. As soon as he got in the mall, he made his way to the snacks aisle. He picked out all the thing you love. Chocolates of every kind, Oreos, Nutella, all the sweet goodies. He also picked out a packet of tampon and pads of your favourite brand. He knew you'll need it.

When he laid all his thing on the billing counter, the cashier went wide eyed as she recognised the actor and gave him a wierd look at his choosen things. Keanu was used to this. He'd do anything in the world for the love of his life even if it meant people giving him judgemental looks, or even some snarky remarks. If he needed tampons, he needed tampons. End of discussion.

Keanu was greeted by you belting out the lyrics of Think by Kaledia. He immediately it was the red circle scene. You loved that scene. He smiled at himself, and made his way to the couch where you were. Sitting beside you, the scene was still ongoing, and he knew better than to interrupt you. One time he did, you were mad at him for the next hour. So, he sat there quietly watching you, a smile gracing his pink, thin, lips.

After the scene was done, you paused the movie. Facing Keanu, you smiled at him brightly. He handed you a pack of oreos. You leaped at him full force, he had to act quick to hold you. Of course he held you. He always did.

Thanking him by placing a kiss on his cheeks, you settled down again with the movie this tim, with Keanu. He did got up for a minute to grab you both a bottle of water and a fuzzy blanket. Wrapping you and him in it, you both watched the John Wick trilogy together.

#keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves #keanu x reader #i love keanu #keanu reeves x you #keanu imagine #also period sucks 😔

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lollypopsx · 3 years

Text

Flatmate!Harry: I'll Make It Up To You - Part 2

Please like if it’s not too shabby, reblog for anyone who may enjoy this and follow if you want to see more! Any suggestions are happily taken for future writing! I love you all! be safe and be kind x

Warnings: Hints of depression and anxiety

Part 1 - Part 3

—————————

Days had passed since the audition, and while you were sat on your laptop every hour searching for new jobs, new projects, more auditions and pure hope of some miracle, you couldn't help but starting to feel like you were failing slightly.

You liked to write happy songs and create stories using your music, but you were finding it harder to find the inspiration. Usually you and Harry would sit and talk ideas for hours, but since he made you miss your audition, you were distant from him, it was only the last day or two that you had been getting slowly back to normal.

Every day since the incident when Harry came home after working at the studio, he would open the curtains to make sure you had fresh air and daylight after cooping yourself up on the sofa all day, in the dimly lit living room. Not only that, he would check the cupboards, fridge and the sink to check that you were eating enough. He had seen you stressed and upset before. He had been there through some difficult moments in your life, and had always been your rock throughout the years, especially when your mental health was struggling during these times. But this time was worse. He couldn't help being concerned for someone he loved and cared for.

"Hey pumpkin..." He whispers softly, settling himself down beside you after completing his daily routine "Have you done much today?" he gently combs his fingers through your hair before dropping his arm round your shoulders.

You just sigh softly, looking ahead blankly at the quiet TV, simply shaking your head. If only he could see what was going on in that pretty mind of yours then maybe he could make everything better.

"I see you used the piano and the guitar today though..." he states, although it came out more like a question.

Minutes of silence filled the room until out of the blue, some words left your lips. "...Adam came to get the ring today" you whisper, feeling the tears brim your eyes once again, for what felt like the millionth time today.

"Oh darling" He frowns, pulling you into his chest tightly, just like he did the night you found out your (now ex-) boyfriend, Adam, was cheating on you. Unfortunately, you happened to find out minutes before he proposed to you, in front of all of your friends, including Harry. You didn't know what to do, so you took the ring, said you'd think about it and you left him standing alone. This all happened months ago, and you really thought that you was totally over it.

"Everything that's happened this week...I-I just...I feel like such a failure Haz. It just feels like I...I-I'm falling...falling apart and nothings going right! Why isn’t anything going right! I can’t even write one stupid song that makes sense" you let out hard sobs as your hands fisted his clean white t-shirt.

"No...no, no, no don't say that...please don't ever say that." He frowns, pulling away from you, but still staying close. His warm hands press against your cheeks as he lifts your face gently "hey, hey look at me" he whispers, begging you to look at him.

Your sad wide eyes flickered up into his, gentle tears falling down your face. "I know...I know it's hard at the moment. But everything happens for a reason. And everything will get better...I know it will. Do you trust me?" He whispers, his eyes gazing deep into yours, almost like if he looked hard enough, he could read your mind.

You give a hesitant nod as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before wiping the tears dampening your cheeks. Being affectionate together wasn't anything unusual for the two of you, you really were the best of friends.

"I'll go make some dinner okay? Pasta sound good?" You just nod your head gently at him as he leaves your side. You let out a deep sigh and head over to the living room window, watching the sunrise beginning to set over the busy London town. "So...how's the studio going?" You ask him curiously, your gaze still at the window.

"I erm..." He clutters around in the kitchen. His job was a topic he had been avoiding for the last few days. He didn't want to rub it in that he was busy writing an album for millions of fans, who would be screaming his lyrics back to him all over the world in years to come. "It's...good. I mean, its tiring but I...yeah. It's good" He nods.

"H, you don't have to avoid it. I forgive you for what happened. I know you would never have done it out of spite...and you deserve your life style, you work hard!" You say as you head into the kitchen, re-filling the water in the vase on the table, your vibrant roses and lilies still looking as beautiful as the first day Harry bought them for you.

"You work hard too!" He frowns softly "Harry I don't think moping around on the sofa, drowning in my sorrows, is the definition of working hard" You let out a gentle chuckle.

"So...how's it really going?" You hop up onto the stool beside the kitchen counter.

"Well, we have 4 songs so far...and they are...different to the last album. I mean they reckon three of them will be on the pop charts...maybe even a number one slot there" He sighs softly.

"Oh wow, that does sound different to before...and you...don't want that?" You ask curiously, judging by the lack of excitement. "Well...it's not that. I just...it's hard to write another album when the last one did well, and you have to make sure it's better than the last one." He sighs softly as he cooks. "They want me to write some slower, more emotional songs. I just can't...well the words don't fit right. I'm just not feeling emotional about anything, so I don't know where to get the emotion from"

"Well you can't put a price on emotion Haz, you can't just go and buy it in Gucci. You have to really feel it. Even if you aren't thinking about something specific or direct to you. I used to find that sometimes when I was trying to write, I'd create these characters in my head, and I'd give them all these different stories and personalities. And I...I used that to really help me write music. It's not easy." You explain while getting two of the plates from the cupboard and pouring two drinks for the table.

"You used to? You mean you don't use that method anymore?" He asks curiously, while giving the pasta one final stir.

"I...I think I've decided that I'm not going to write music anymore" You shrug softly, your eyes unable to life to his. "I need a proper job. And things aren't going well with auditions lately and I make a total fool out of myself every time I go into a meeting. It's time I looked for a proper job. Besides, the price of bills in this house keeps going up and up."

"What?! Y/N you're so good at writing songs and music! You can't throw it all away now! That is your proper job. And I love hearing what you write, it inspires my own stuff!" He frowns, his brow furrowing, trying to understand you. "Think of all the songs no one will get to hear"

"No one hears them anyway...It's different now. The entertainment industry is changing more and more by the day. Maybe the stuff I write just isn't as trendy anymore." It was difficult for you to admit, but you knew you had to accept it.

"There's a fine line between us Styles, because the difference is, you're already there. You have the whole world in your hands Haz, you can go anywhere and do anything. You could sing a song to a fish and the whole world would be adored by you still! If I did something like that...I'd be laughed out of every interview, audition and meeting for the rest of my life. But we’ll be alright" You smile and shrug, your mood had certainly been hit and miss the last few days, but you knew you had to carry on with your life.

—————————

“Hey Y/N come here!” Harry calls from the living room. You were currently in your room, scrolling through your Instagram, while in a pasta coma after dinner. You rush over to the living room “What’s up?” You ask, seeing him sat at the gleaming white piano, which as always was sat under the window.

“What do you think?” He starts to play a few notes on the piano, looking between the scruffy paper notes cluttering the top of the piano and his hands.

“Can’t put a price on emotion...it’s something that you just can’t buy...you...you’ve got my devotion...but....but” He sighs softly, playing around with the notes and the wording on his notes.

You smile softly as you recognise his acknowledgment of your earlier conversation “...but man, I can hate you sometimes” you sing gently, testing to see how it could fit.

“Hey that’s mean! Why would you say that!” He fakes a pout up at you “I thought we- hey actually...you’re right! That really fits!” He chuckles, pulling you onto the stool beside him. “Can you try a G chord, B chord and....lets try a C...” You nod and smile as your fingers gloss over the keys effortlessly, while Harry fits the verse together and tries to find the right tempo.

“Wait...it doesn’t sound right. Maybe lets try a D instead of C?” You suggest as you re-try, playing those three chords over and over again.

“You...are...a genius!” He grins and wraps his arms around your waist. ”Keep going!” He smirks, pushing more lyrics in front of you. Sometimes having a fresh pair of eyes really helped...or perhaps he just wanted to prove that you had talent.

You peer down at the pages upon pages of words flooding your view. “...I don’t want to fight with you....and I...and I don’t like to sleep in the dark...we’ll get the drinks in...I...I can’t stop thinking of her...”

Harrys fingers join yours at the piano “We’ll be a fine line....We’ll be a fine line...”He smiles softly as he taps on a few random keys.

You pull your fingers away gently “It...your song sounds...really good H. It’s beautiful actually.”

“You mean our song...” He whispers.

“Harry no, it’s your song, all the pieces, I just put your jigsaw together” You smile. “I know how it is writing songs and the first draft is never the same as the final version. You might decide to change it all completely” You whisper.

“Not with your lyrical genius ability and words of wisdom...your name will be all over this track” You felt a shock of electricity ripple through your veins as you felt his eyes burning into yours. His lips pressed gently against your forehead, lingering against your skin longer than usual. That sort of affection was normal from your best friend...so why did it just feel like something completely different? And what did he mean about my name being all over the track?

—————————

Tag List: @harryhoney-bee - @sunandherflores - @sad-capuccino

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #one shot #hslot #flatmate!harry #roommate!harry #fine line #lollypopsx #fanfic #imagine #request #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #Harry styles fluff

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hehebread · 3 years

Text

[BKDK] Izuku keeps mentioning a Kacchan to reporters and they think that's his gf

this was a request on twt that i had way too much fun writing. warning for suggestive language!

“And is there…. a special person….or a group of people you would like to thank on air today? Anyone who inspired you? Anyone you would attribute your success to? An image of victory per say?”

Izuku’s eyes glimmer as the bright lights of the studio reflect on his irises. “Oh!” He jumps in his seat, his perfectly- coiffed curls bouncing as he nods frantically to the show’s host. “Yes! Yes!” Leaning forward with his hands on his leg, the camera zooms in on his face where the blush is painting his cheeks. “I wouldn’t be the hero I am today if it wasn’t for Kacchan!”

And it’s as if an earthquake alert dropped on the talk show. The host grows this devious grin on his face as he turns to the camera team and says, “Well, well, well, behind every great man is a woman after all.”

Izuku isn’t quite sure why the host is bringing his mother into this since the interview is reaching its end and he has already discussed her influence in detail very early on, but he doesn’t get a chance to ponder.

The host, Yamaguchi-san, leans into Izuku’s space with renowned interest and an interesting glint in his eyes. Izuku feels himself sweating in his oversized maroon-striped suit.

“So, Midoriya-san, Hero Deku, Rising Symbol of Equity and Hope, can you tell us more about … Kacchan?” His voice goes higher at the last syllable, almost sing songs, and Izuku is not sure if he should be worried or not, but he won’t pass an opportunity to gush about Kacchan!

“Ah, Kacchan is very … confident, hardworking, strong, and smart. Kacchan is a hero who knows how to lead a team and perform under pressure, an inspiration to both myself and our entire graduating class, and a”—Izuku can feel the heat rise in his face as he tries to hide in his colour— “a shining star who was closer to me than All Might!”

The host makes a loud ‘AWWW’ noise at the same time as the small audience in the studio. “My, my! Sounds like Kacchan is very important to Hero Deku! Don’t be shy! Tell us more! Is there a physical description to go with your precious person?”

“Ahm!” Izuku fiddles with his fingers as he avoids the gazes on him. There a long beat of silence before he manages to say, “Muscles….Blonde…..Sharp eyes….” With a vague gesture to his middle section, he mumbles, barely audible, “Big, ugh…..” Heart.

“OOOOOOOOOH!” The host goes wild and so does the audience. “So are we talking Hiromi Oshima type big or maybe Rio Natsume, or aaaah Aki Hoshino even ….?”

Izuku feels his ears ring in humiliation as he tries to process what they’re talking about. Something Kacchan has in common with all these beautiful women is his big successful career so Izuku nods. “Yes!” Then, a thought occurs and he rises in his chair. “Even bigger!”

After all, Kacchan’s net worth is higher than these ladies.

“BIGGER?”

“The biggest!”

“Oh my god!” The host is losing his mind now! “And is it … natural? Or did Kacchan get a little help from professionals?”

“No, no, no! Kacchan was a natural ever since we were in school together!” Izuku’s eyes shine with a fire to defend his childhood best friend, no longer trying to hide in his big suit. “No one helped Kacchan get this big!”

“That’s … amazing!” The host shakes his head in both awe and disbelief. “Now we want to see Kacchan in action! When the hero works around the city, defeating villains, does the size get in the way?”

Does Kacchan’s fame get in the way of his work? “Sometimes,” Izuku muses, “But Kacchan never lets the restless and perky nuisances stop him, y’know. With a little shake from his hands, and a few colourful words of wisdoms, nothing gets in the way!” Izuku laughs as he remembers Kacchan’s way of dismissing fans and reporters alike.

“Wow!”

“Of course, there are times where Kacchan’s big firm moulds become springy and hard to control, but I have yet to see an instance where that has been a major issue. ”

Kacchan is still having some adjustment problems with his new hero costume, particularly his grenade mould, but that’s as far as distractions go.

“Does Kacchan not use support?”

“Uhm, only when it’s a dire situation! Sometimes I’m even allowed to provide assistance!”

“You must be very lucky…”

“I am! It feels … exciting and … very special! Kacchan doesn’t trust just anyone, y’know! I can never quite get used to the trust we built together. We are one unit working together.”

“Do you use your hands…. Or something else?”

“Oh, hands! Yes! But anything works really! Whatever Kacchan is comfortable with and needs at the time. Black Whip, combo moves, an iron grip...”

The host furrow his brows and seems to be considering Izuku’s answer before he opens his mouth again. “Uhm, never mind.” He then turns to the camera, smile back on. “Our time is almost running out! Thank you, hero Deku for your time! We look forward to seeing you again in the big screen!”

The next day, Izuku wakes up to the headline: Hero Deku And His Mysterious Busty New Girlfriend: The Beautiful and Spunky Kacchan!

He’s doomed

He sees Kacchan early the next day.

Having spent the morning talking to tabloids and the host show agents about the misunderstanding and whether or not it was possible to take down the episode at least, Izuku slumps his head on his desk in defeat.

Oh, this is very bad.

He starts thumping his forehead on the wood in sync with the bleeps noises in the phone, already planning his funeral in his head.

Okay, so it seems the suspense around this girlfriend is raking up his popularity, but god, at what cost.

“Nerd, we need to talk.”

Izuku’s soul near flies to the roof at the sound of the door to his office slamming close. Fuckfuckfuck.

Kacchan stands before him with his hand on his hip, teeth snarled and looking ready to tear his flesh open. Oh, this is going to be fun!

After flashing a haughty glare at the glass door to scare away the nosy friends hanging about, Kacchan continues, “About the interview.”

Of course! Yes! His final hour is approaching. “Haahahaha, what about it?” Izuku feels his undershirt cling to his torso, sweat collecting on his face. He directs a shaky hand to a nearby chair. “Feel free to take a seat, Kacchan! You want me to get you anything? Water, tissues, uhm, a knife, a body sized bag, or uhhh, a shovel? I think I have some spare sheets of paper if you’d like to give me a chance to—“

“So…” Kacchan starts.

“PLEASE TELL MY MUM I LOVE HER!”

“…this Kacchan, huh?” Having completely ignored every single word Izuku just said, Kacchan crosses his arms and scowls. “Is she strong? How come I never heard about her before? Since when did you start dating this gravure idol and pro hero, huh?”

“Wha—?”

“So, you just go around giving everyone pretty nicknames now?” Kacchan snorts and his expression darkens before he slams his hands on Izuku’s desk. He looks at Izuku from under his chin, and Izuku swear he can see flames behind his eyes. He growls, “What’s her actual name?”

An alarm bell rings in Izuku’s ears and he stutters, “Ka— Ka— Kat— Katsuko! Bakugan Katsuko…….”

Kacchan’s expression doesn’t change and Izuku feels his heart leap to his throat. God, Kacchan is gonna call his bluff at any minute now. He’s going to reject him then he’s going to break his heart and his bones.

“What’s she like?”

Kacchan shifts forward slightly and Izuku is just know noticing the ample cleavage in clear view. Right there. In front of Izuku’s face. “Uhm. Ah, she’s very, ugh, im- pec— impeccable!! And strong! Muscl— mature!! Breasty too – I mean, pretty! PRETTY!” Izuku bites his tongue then swallows thickly. “Beautiful, actually!” Lifting his gaze to meet Kacchan, he whispers, “Gorgeous. Just the most amazing person in my life.”

Kacchan is staring intently with his sharp red eyes, and Izuku feels his chest swell with confidence he never had before. “Kacchan is my inspiration, and I just … love … Kacchan so much. I wish I had the courage to tell him— um, her that.”

“Are you two serious?” Kacchan asks, impassive but there is silent rage hiding behind his words.

Something flashes quickly through Kacchan’s eyes before he narrows them. It takes Izuku a second to recognise that it’s /hurt/ and then he realise what he has just done.

“No, no, no!” Izuku backtracks immediately. “I don’t even know her that well! In fact, she kinda smells and definitely has sweating problem.” Izuku needs to do damage control and come clean NOW. “You know what? I will call her and break up with her right now. Ha ha ha.”

What the hell is he saying? Who is he going to call?

Kacchan stands up while Izuku fumbles with his phone. “Don’t be a dick,” he says, before he heads to the door.

Izuku jumps from his chair and is ready to chase after him when Kacchan stops him. “How big?”

“Huh?”

“You said Bakugan was big.”

Ah, yes, he did. Tragically.

“Um, y’know just…” Izuku motions with his hands like he’s moulding two doughballs, palms up and fingers wiggling because he’s lost control of his life once he accepted his funeral date, but that’s not even happening anymore so what is he doing really.

He then makes am hourglass shape in the air and belatedly realises that he’s just outlining Kacchan’s shape in front of him. Izuku retreats his hands and puts them behind his back in shame.

Kacchan is looking at him funny. Like he’s trying to figure something out.

“Does she shoot aerial bomb or something? Is that a combat-style quirk?”

Izuku blinks.

Kacchan just sneers and turns around.

“Whatever. I’m doing a photoshoot this afternoon. The Sekushī clothing line is dropping a new summer set and they asked me to model.”

“Se- Sekushi?? You mean, like—” Izuku feels his face go impossibly red. “You’re saying that, you’re going to wear, like…..” his voice goes down to a whisper when he says “…..a b-b-b-b-b-bikini?”

“Swimwear,” Kacchan turns to say over his shoulder, “Among other things.”

The sexy smirk he sends Izuku’s way is doing very, very weird things to Izuku’s body and imagination, things too inappropriate to describe in a work setting.

Kacchan leaves but not without offering the most dangerous challenge to Izuku’s mental wellbeing. “Feel free to drop in.”

Oh, he absolutely will.

“Bring Bakugon.”

Oh, he absolutely will not.

Actually….

Maybe, he will.

Kacchan is going to ruin Izuku

#dekubaku #dkbk #bakudeku #bkdk #bnha #mha #boku no hero fic #boku no hero academia #my hero fanfic #my hero academia #izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #prompt fill #icewrites

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blu-joons · 3 years

Text

You Have History With A Member When You Start Working At BigHit ~ BTS Reaction

Jin:

Your body stopped when you saw who you’d been assigned to for the day, watching slowly as Jin’s head turned when he heard that the manager had arrived. “Oh,” he stuttered, frowning as he met your eyes.

“Are you sure there’s no one else?” You asked your boss.

“We’ll be fine,” Jin interrupted before he could respond, “it’s just a day, that’s all.”

“We’re professional, that’s it,” you snapped as your boss walked away, leading Jungkook down to the car park to drive to set.

He frowned, following a few paces behind you. “It’s been a while since I saw you Y/N, you look well,” he spoke up as you walked outside. “You can’t ignore me for the whole day.”

��You managed to ignore for weeks after our date, maybe I’ll take a leaf out of your book,” you huffed, “I don’t need to listen to any of your compliments anymore.”

Jin sighed, climbing into the car beside you, “if you want to pretend that we’re nothing today, that’s fine. But it won’t change what happened between us.”

“I’m your manager for a day as sick cover,” you reminded him, “after today, I don’t want to ever see or hear from you again Seokjin.”

“Alright, if that’s what you want.”

Yoongi:

He sighed as you continued to move around him as you fixed his hair for the photoshoot, keeping your lips tightly shut throughout so you didn’t have to speak to him. “We could use this time to talk about what happened.”

“Why would I want to talk about it?” You retaliated.

“You work here now, we’ll see a lot of each other,” he responded, “clearing the air could be good.”

“I’m here to do my job, trust me, if I knew I’d be working with you, I’d have gone,” you frowned, roughly brushing through his hair.

His head shook gently, “I know what I did was wrong, I’ve learnt a lot since then. I don’t want to be your boyfriend again, but I at least want to be civil with you.”

“For the sake of everyone else around us, I’ll say hello, but don’t ever expect more than that from me,” you warned him, fixing a few strands of hair.

Yoongi smiled, taking whatever he could get from you. “You’ve always held a place in my heart Y/N, nothing will ever change that for me.”

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you cheated on me,” you whispered, “I can forgive, but I can’t forget what you did.”

“I’d never expect you to either.”

Hoseok:

His eyes lit up as he looked over the outfit, you’d styled for him for the interview with the other members. His hands straightened out the shirt before looking back at you. “You always did know exactly what I liked.”

“Oh, do you two already know each other?” Your boss asked.

“Many years ago,” Hobi whispered, “but we just ended up on different paths.”

“You were my best friend,” you clarified, handing him a pair of shoes, “and then came fame, and you just forgot all about me.”

Your boss quickly walked away as she noticed the tension. “I never wanted to forget you,” Hobi smiled, “I just became too busy to spend any time with you anymore.”

“Just admit you found better friends and decided that you didn’t need me anymore,” you pleaded, “I don’t want to be here and have you play with me again.”

Hobi frowned, resting his hand against your arm. “We were friends for years Y/N, maybe this is someone’s way of trying to bring us back together.”

“I need time Hobi,” you admitted, “I’ve not seen you for years and now here you are. Maybe one day we’ll get back to our old place.”

“I’ll give you time, I promise.”

Namjoon:

You finished your routine one last time to show to TXT tomorrow, turning the stereo off just as the studio door opened. “Sorry, we’re booked in here now,” a voice spoke, feeling a shiver run down your spine as you recognised it.

“I’m just going,” you huffed, quickly picking up your things and hiding your face.

“I know it’s you,” Namjoon yelled out, “you can’t walk away from me and pretend Y/N.”

“I have nothing to say to you,” you frowned, revealing your face to him. “You were the one that told me I wouldn’t make it.”

He frowned, ruffling through his fringe. “You know I never meant it like that. I’m glad that you proved me wrong though, how long have you been working here?”

“A few months, long enough to be able to avoid you,” you snapped back at him, “I’ve always turned down the opportunities to work with you.”

Namjoon continued to sigh as the guilt ate away at him. “Don’t restrict your own career because of me, we can still be professional with this Y/N.”

“If you want to be professional, please just let me do my job. The studio’s all yours now,” you spoke, walking towards the door.

“Y/N, I really am proud of you.”

Jimin:

As soon as you heard the words BTS you stepped back from the row of trainees, trying desperately to hide your face. Their eyes looked around the room as they walked in, his eyes falling straight onto you. “Y/N,” he muttered.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” Namjoon sighed, walking around to shake hands.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” one of the trainees, smiled as the members followed behind him.

“What are you doing here?” A voice asked as Jimin walked straight over to you, moving you aware from the group. “You’re a trainee?”

You scoffed gently, “don’t sound so surprised. Just because you managed to achieve your dreams before I did, didn’t mean I wasn’t going to get here eventually.”

“I never thought you’d come here knowing I was here, that’s all,” he sighed, “I thought you’d join SM seeing as they offered you a contract too.”

Your head shook, feeling everyone’s eyes staring across at you. “I’m focussed on my dreams now Jimin, I’m not here to have my heart broken again.”

“I don’t want to break your heart, if you’ll let me, I’ll be your biggest fan. I always did support you,” he tried to comfort, “I never stopped.”

“Let’s see how today goes first.”

Taehyung:

He sat in the cafeteria as the team of stylists walked in, for weeks he’d had his eye on the group, feeling like a face was familiar. He stood up to get a drink, purposely colliding with the group, and the stylist at the back. “I knew it was you.”

“Don’t,” you frowned, quickly taking a step away from him.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he pointed out, refusing to move too far away from your side.

“Can you blame me?” You whispered, trying to keep things private, “you’re the last person I want to see now that I’m here.”

His eyes widened, “you’re here permanently? You could never ignore me forever Y/N, in the end we’d probably end up working together. Everyone knows each other here.”

“I would have found a way,” you tried to argue, “I’ve got dinner with my team right now, I don’t have the time to waste talking to you about why I’m here.”

Taehyung sighed once again, “can we find a convenient time to talk about things like adults? I want to put this past the both of us.”

“You never even said sorry Tae,” you frowned, catching up to your team, “that would have been a good start, but you never did.”

“You know I’m sorry, I mean it.”

Jungkook:

You gripped the steering wheel tighter as you watched all of the BTS boys walk out of the building, knowing they were heading straight for your car. You remained silent as they got in, hearing a “hello,” come from their leader.

“Hi,” you whispered back, unaware of Jungkook’s reaction behind you.

“You alright?” Taehyung asked, noticing the expression on Jungkook’s face.

“Yeah,” he stuttered, trying to peer through the gap and have a look at who was driving. “I thought I forgot something, but I found it.”

You knew he was looking in your direction, keeping your eyes firmly on the road. “Are you the new driver that they’ve bought in, or are you another temp?”

“I’m permanent,” you responded to the leader, hearing a familiar sigh come from the back of the car. “You guys do your thing; I’ll concentrate on the road.”

Jungkook glanced across once again, “how can you expect me to concentrate when you’re here Y/N?” He questioned, recognising the sound of your voice.

“That’s for you to figure out,” you sighed, not wanting to cause a scene around his friends, “you’re the reason we are the way that we are.”

“The way you are? What happened Kook?”

---

Masterlist

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monstersandmaw · 4 years

Text

Male vampire x male character - Part Two (nsfw) (Halloween ‘surprise’ Patreon story).

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

I'm really pleased that you and my Patrons enjoyed the first part, and that folks were keen for more. I’ve had more interaction with this post on Patreon than many of the others, which is surprising given how mlm stories are usually much less in demand than m/f ones. Thanks for that!

Anyway, here's more of our favourite oblivious dork Alec and his obviously-not-a-vampire crush... Part Three is on the way too (tomorrow), despite this having been planned as a quick porn-without-plot one-shot, as it were. Oh well?!

Hope you enjoy.

Part One

After his initial - admittedly strange - meetings with Sebastien, Alec didn’t see him on campus at all for the rest of the week, and he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that. Yes, the guy had been a bit of a pompous arsehole in the library, but he’d made up for it by coming to the art room and apologising, engaging him in conversation — even if that conversation had been slightly… odd? — and being so god-damn-fucking beautiful too.

He overheard his students gossiping about ‘Dr. Dulac’ earlier that afternoon while they all carved the pumpkins he’d bought for them at the local supermarket, and it seemed that the general consensus was that Sebastien was single, unfailingly polite (even in the face of Janette Hilton, the English Department’s longest-serving and least sympathetic lecturers), hotter than any celebrity you cared to name, and a specialist in the poets of the First World War like Sassoon and Brooke, among other more esoteric interests.

After an hour of clock-watching in his tiny little office in the Art Department on Friday, he abandoned all hope of concentrating on his last few bits of admin, and shut down his laptop. After clearing up yet more pumpkin seeds that he’d somehow missed on the last two sweeps he’d done of the studio, he stepped outside, never wanting to see another bloody thing again. Too bad he had a whole bloody cardboard box of them waiting to go into the boot of Kay’s car for her party that night. Still, he was almost sinfully proud of the carvings he’d done on them. One was decorated the whole way around with the foliate style engravings usually reserved for the steel on antique guns, with different depths to create the highlights and shadows, and another particularly spherical one had been cut away in squares to resemble the Death Star.

The October air outside bit into his lungs as he drew a deep breath - the spicy, fragrantly damp scents of autumn filling his nose - and his eye was drawn to the twinkling lights of the little coffee cart that still lingered in the park, selling tea, coffee, and hot chocolate to chilly students leaving the university campus for the night. With a black coffee for himself in one hand, he made his way to the Engineering Department, warily holding another frothy concoction in his other. It was apparently called a ‘London fog’ and it smelled of earl grey tea and lavender. He thought it sounded (and smelled) disgusting, but Kay perked right up when he deposited it on her desk five minutes later.

“Bless you, Alec Twayblade,” she grinned, taking the plastic lid off and inhaling it like it was the best thing she’d ever smelled. “Oh my god. How can you not like this?” she said after taking a huge gulp and moaning obscenely.

Alec didn’t bother to reply, his eye-roll speaking volumes anyway. They’d had this discussion so many times that they were both probably playing it out silently in their heads right that second. When Kay glanced up and saw that he certainly was, she snorted and grinned. “I love you, Alec,” she laughed. “You’re still coming tonight?”

“Against my better judgement,” he growled, leaning his weight on her desk and folding his arms across his battered, blue cable knit sweater. He had a huge daub of yellow paint on one elbow from that morning, and a small burn hole in the bottom from a failed attempt at pyrography a few years ago. It was the most comfortable jumper he owned, and he would probably wear it until it unravelled around him.

“You’re still not going to wear a costume, are you?” she added as she stood, pouting.

He shook his head. “I draw the line at that.”

“But you’d be so good making one!” she countered. “You helped me with that bat costume when we were at high school… Don’t you remember how fucking awesome it was?”

“I do,” he chuckled. “But I’m not going to wear one myself.”

She sighed, shoulders slumping. “Too much attention, huh?” she said softly. “Well, you know you’ll stand out more if you’re not wearing one tonight…?”

He shrugged. Honestly, he just couldn’t be bothered to dress up. Halloween had rather lost its shine for him anyway. “Not if I hide in the kitchen all night and make too-strong cocktails for everyone,” he said, flashing her his most roguish grin. “Plus, I spent much of today carving pumpkins with nattering eighteen year olds who are far too old to be carving pumpkins on academic time, but —”

“— you’re an awesome teacher who understands the need to let off some steam on the holidays,” she interjected. “Plus, it’s good practice anyway… working with a new medium…”

He allowed his lips to pinch upwards into a tiny smirk and let her have that one. “It’s nice to see them having fun,” was all he said.

An hour or so later, just as he arranged the last of the pumpkins down the garden path of Kay's Victorian semi-detached house, a voice murmured from behind him, “I can see the hand of a master at work in these carvings.”

Not having heard anyone approaching, Alec jumped, cursed, and dropped the pumpkin - thankfully with the candle still unlit. It rolled in a semicircle until a black boot gently stopped it, and a familiar face dipped into view as the owner of the boot bent to pick it up. To his surprise, it was Sebastien, and he was in costume. Probably anyway. Hopefully? Fuck. Alec’s brain stalled at the sight of him.

His eyes raked up Sebastien’s body and his jaw went quite literally slack.

The slender man was wearing thigh-high boots and leather pants so tight they had to have been spray-painted on, into which was tucked a loose, old-fashioned, white shirt with a good bit of flounce at the collar. “Holy shit,” he whispered, and Sebastien chuckled softly, a low, amused sound in the back of his throat.

“You recognise the costume?” he asked, seeming innocently amused. The long, dark coat, accented with gold brocade and bright gold buttons, opened briefly in a soft gust of wind that made the lit pumpkins flicker and lifted his loose, silver-white hair back for a breath as well.

“I…” he swallowed. “Uh, you’re Alucard,” he croaked. “From the Castlevania games…” A wry incline of Sebastien’s head told him he was correct, and then Alec blurted stupidly, “Shouldn’t you be shirtless though?”

Sebastien’s smile grew from pleased to deeply amused, his eyes glittering, and it was only then that Alec noticed the contacts burning a bright gold in his eyes and, as his lips peeled back and Sebastien began to laugh, he saw long, tapering, white canines befitting a vampire costume. “It’s a little cold for that, don’t you think?” Sebastien asked, still laughing quietly as Alec flushed crimson.

“Sorry,” he blurted. “I know. I just… forget it.”

“Where do you want it?” Sebastien asked, and Alec’s poor brain went blank.

“What?”

“The pumpkin,” Sebastien deadpanned and Alec’s poor, blank brain melted out of his ears with embarrassment.

“Uh… there’s fine,” he said, pointing at the little wrought-iron garden gate.

Sebastien placed the pumpkin down on the flagstone path so that the carved graveyard scene glimmered and flickered with appropriate spookiness, visible to anyone approaching along the quiet, suburban street. Enormous London plane trees stood sentry every few paces, heaving up the tarmac pavement with their roots, like a sleeper shifting a blanket with a restless turn, and sheltering the cars snuggled and parked beneath them. A carpet of leaves clung to the gutter in a long, golden line, melting into nothing in places in the glittering puddles. It would have been beautiful, had Alec not been faced with quite literally the most beautiful thing in the entire universe.

“Am I early then?” Sebastien asked, dusting off his palms and turning back to face Alec, who had barely managed to make his legs work long enough to stand up straight again.

He shook his head. “No. Henry’s inside already,” he said, running his fingers through his scruffy black hair. “With Rachel and Alison. I just forgot to put the pumpkins out earlier.”

“No costume?”

With a roll of his eyes, he shook his head. “Nope.”

“Too bad,” Sebastien said, eyeing the front door. The contacts were really creepy, shifting in the light that spilled down the stairs as the front door suddenly opened and Kay stepped out before he could worry that he’d been the only one to dress up. He could probably brush it off anyway, Alec supposed, and tried not to envy the man’s quiet confidence.

Silhouetted starkly against the hall light, with her high ‘Dracula’ collar on prominent display, Kay shrieked with glee and clapped her hands when she saw Sebastien. Apparently the two of them had been getting along rather well, while Alec had sequestered himself away in the Art Department like an ascetic.

“Bastien! You look amazing oh my god!” she blurted, rushing forwards a step or two before halting abruptly. “Wait, does that make me your father for the evening?” she cackled. “Wow, your teeth are really good! Mine wouldn't stay in for more than a few minutes…”

Sebastien’s gold eyes flickered sideways to Alec but it happened so briefly that he almost missed it. “Custom made a long time ago,” was all he said. “Shall we go inside? It’s freezing out here.”

“Yes, of course, come on in,” she said, waving them all inside, Sebastien first. As Alec passed her last, she slapped him hard on the backside in rebuke and hissed, “Told you you should have worn a costume! You look like a big dumbo!”

“No different from any other night,” he quipped back, and she growled something indistinct at him. Perhaps a werewolf costume would have suited her better. “You could have told me you’d invited Dulac…”

“Why?” she retorted. “So you could suddenly decide that an evening moping alone with your PS4 playing Rocket League with strangers was more appealing? No fucking chance. Get inside. Sebastien’s right; I’m freezing my tits off.”

The distant murmur of voices in the living room made him veer off instinctively into the kitchen, and while they began to watch some old Hammer horror film, he made drinks. That, at least, he was good at.

Entering a while later, he found that Sebastien was seated on the sofa beside Henry, who wore an enormously fluffy wolfman costume - mostly a repurposed Chewbacca onesie with a latex wolf mask. He’d pushed the mask up onto his head in order to eat the Halloween themed nibbles on the coffee table, and the effect rendered him entirely ridiculous. Another reason not to wear a costume: it’s impractical, and gets in the way, and washing ketchup out of matted fake fur is a nightmare. Alison and Rachel sat practically in each other’s laps, one a zombie and the other a ghost, both squeezed into one groaning old armchair.

After half an hour of Christopher Lee’s admittedly creepy Dracula, Alec slid from his seat at the periphery, and ducked out again into the kitchen. Straightening from fishing a beer from the back of the fridge, he heard the soft click of the door and turned to find Sebastien standing there.

“Get bored with late 1950’s horror too?” Alec asked. “Beer?”

Sebastien inclined his head in a way that said he wasn’t a beer drinker and held up his almost-empty wineglass as an excuse as he moved a little closer. “If you don’t like cheesy horror films, and you don’t seem to like Halloween either, I wonder why you came at all tonight?”

“For Kay,” he said, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. “She loves this shit.”

At that, Sebastien paused, a delicate smile on his face. In the soft glow of the under-cupboard lighting, his tanned skin seemed to shimmer, and Alec wondered fleetingly if he’d put some kind of glittery body powder on. Next, he wondered what on earth Sebastien was doing in here with him, looking at him like that.

“You are a good friend,” Sebastien said quietly, seeming perhaps a little sad around the edges.

“She’s done more than her fair share of looking after me,” Alec sighed knowingly. “Not that I’m doing it because I owe her,” he added, twisting the cap off the bottle and leaning back against the counter to drink deeply from it. As the malty froth washed over his tongue, he felt eyes on him and looked over at the other man.

Sebastien tilted his head slightly to the side, the false golden light in his eyes making him look like a cat in the dark. “You said she was trying to set you up with someone…”

Alec snorted, nearly shooting beer out of his nose. “Yeah. Well, she seems to think a good fuck will sort my mood out.”

“But you think otherwise?”

“You offering?” he asked bitterly, taking another swig and feeling uncharacteristically bold, though absolutely not expecting the answer he got.

“Perhaps.”

His eyebrows shot up and this time he did cough a little. “You can’t be serious.”

“You think someone who looks like me is entirely straight?” he asked with a wry smile, and Alec had to hand it to him. Not many men he knew could pull of long, luscious, white-blond hair like that, or would have the confidence to wear fucking thigh-high boots and whisper-tight leather pants…

“Still… you don’t really know me… That’s all I meant…”

“Doesn't mean one couldn’t engage in — how did you call it? — ‘a good fuck’. Not that I’m averse to getting to know you better, before or after.”

Alec swallowed another enormous gulp of frothing beer and blinked. “You’re serious?”

With a melodramatic smile that revealed his vampire teeth clearly, ‘Alucard’ purred, “Deadly.”

And Alec burst out laughing. The spell was shattered and the two men shared the remnants of their drinks and their laughter together before Alec sighed. “Your place or mine?”

At that, Sebastien seemed to falter, as if he hadn’t thought through to that point. After a moment’s hesitation, he said, “I assume yours would be alright?”

Alec shrugged. “Sure, if you don’t mind smacking your head on the ceiling and being able to touch two opposite walls at the same time…”

Sebastien’s lips hitched into another wry smile. “I’ve fucked in tighter spaces, I’m sure.”

“You know what?” Alec said as he rinsed out the beer bottle at the sink and half-turned to look at the other man over his shoulder. “You’re absolutely not what I expected.”

“Nor were you,” he shot back, still smirking. “And it’s been a while since I was assaulted by someone in a library.”

“Bring back happy memories, did it?” he snorted.

“Not exactly,” Sebastien murmured, and Alec realised he hadn’t actually been joking. “But I must confess that — despite my behaviour — I was pleasantly surprised by the sight of you when you rounded that bookshelf…”

Turning, Alec approached him cautiously. If he was genuinely serious about his proposal, Alec would find out now. “Pleased enough to seek me out afterwards…” he said, raising his eyebrows. He couldn’t do that ‘one brow at a time’ thing that Sebastien could, but it seemed to get his tone across all the same.

Unusually for Alec, Sebastien had an inch or two on him in height, and as Alec paused in front of him, close enough to catch the faintest hint of a woody cologne, the man angled his face just perfectly for the light to dance along his high cheekbones. Fuck, he was exquisite. The urge to kiss him rose in Alec; to feel his lips against his own, to have those elegant hands scrunch his hair…

As if reading his mind, Sebastien slowly, carefully, raised his right hand and brought his index finger to Alec’s chin, tilting it upwards just a fraction with the lightest pressure. The intensity in his eyes was almost too much, and it left Alec breathless. Again. Panting slightly, he parted his lips and then swallowed thickly.

Sebastien’s eyes darted instantly to the motion of his throat and for a second, Alec could have sworn he saw a vibrant red light reflected in his eyes. Sensing his moment of hesitation, of tension, Sebastian frowned. “What?”

“Nothing,” Alec breathed. “I thought your eyes went red but it must have been a car on the street outside or something.”

“Indeed,” he murmured, but then blinked rapidly. “Do you still wish to continue this?”

“Yes,” he whispered. Don't stop now. His whole body was thrumming in a way it hadn’t ever before with casual encounters. He felt alive for the first time in months.

Sebastien stepped back, turning his face away a little more. “Should we make our excuses…?”

Alec shook his head. “Nah, Kay will know what’s going on anyway, and I don’t want to face her smug looks until tomorrow at the least.”

With a softly amused chuckle, Sebastien stepped back and allowed Alec to leave the room first. The hair on the back of his neck prickled as the other man followed behind, but he didn't turn around or look at him until they were outside on the main street.

“It’s a bit of a walk…” Alec said, only realising then how long the walk would be. “I’m way over on the other side of town by the station…”

The continuing intensity of Sebastien’s scrutiny was beginning to shift from a turn-on to just marginally unnerving, but he told himself that an esteemed professor at one of the country’s finest universities, with more letters after his name than anyone his age had a right to possess, was unlikely to be truly dangerous for a one-night stand… right? There was something about the way he stared at Alec — an unmistakable hunger in his eyes — that made his skin prickle and his heartbeat jump instinctively. Like a deer before the gaze of a tiger, he was entranced.

Unexpectedly, Sebastien’s easy stride slowed at the brick gateway to a small, gravel park that sat between an old church and a chemist, the latter closed at this time of night. “May I kiss you?” he breathed, still gazing at him unblinkingly, as though Alec were the pretty one in this equation, not him.

Alec couldn’t help grinning. The way Sebastien’s eyes bored into him then drove all thought of threat and fear from his mind, and he nodded.

The man’s hands were chilly from the night air, but the moment they cupped his jaw and drew Alec toward him, he forgot about that. He forgot about everything at the meeting of their lips. Sebastien began tentatively, merely brushing their lips together, but when his golden eyes fluttered closed, he deepened the gesture, tongue just begging entrance, teasing him before withdrawing, retreating and returning.

Searing want shot down Alec’s spine and he arched into Sebastien’s taller body, hips seeking contact through his jeans. He moaned, deep and guttural, and it seemed to awaken something in Sebastien, because the man grabbed hold of the back of Alec’s hair and pulled his head slightly to one side to begin to kiss along his jawline, down to wards his neck. For a heartbeat, Sebastien froze there, nose pressed to his rabbiting pulse point, his teeth just grazing skin, before he exhaled harshly and stepped back. “We shouldn’t get carried away,” was all he whispered, stepping slightly out of Alec’s dazed field of view. “My place is nearer though.”

“Ok,” Alec said, still reeling. “Sure.”

When they reached the apartment building, his steps faltered in amazement. “You live… here?”

A slight flush seemed to warm Sebastien’s cheeks as he stepped up to the main doorway, only to have it opened from the other side by a man in livery. “Good evening, Monsieur Dulac,” said the friendly doorman instantly.

“Good evening,” he replied. “This is my friend, Alec Twayblade.”

It was impossible for the doorman not to realise that his ‘friend, Alec Twayblade’ was going to be a little more than that for the night, but he never let a flicker of judgement pass across his face. From the concierge desk - Sebastien’s building had a fucking concierge desk too - another man looked up and wished them both a good evening as they headed for the lifts.

“Does the English department also sell diamonds or drugs or something? How the fuck can you afford a place like this on a lecturer’s salary?” but even as he said it and the doors closed with a soft chime, he realised the truth of it. Sebastien’s aristocratic features and bearing were not merely a persona. They were truth. He stared up at him while Sebastien turned a key in the lift panel.

“Are you secretly royalty or something?” he whispered, only half joking.

The man shot him an amused look and shook his head, silk-white hair whispering against the rougher wool of his costume coat. “No, of course not, but I do have some inherited wealth.”

Some? “So you don’t actually have to work at the university at all then?”

He made a so-so motion of his head and said, “No, not really, but I genuinely enjoy teaching.”

“Your students certainly seem to enjoy you…”

“You don’t enjoy teaching?” he asked as the numbers on the dial climbed and climbed.

Please don’t say you live in the fucking penthouse too, Alec thought, already suspecting it might be true from the whole ‘special access key’. He glanced at the number pad and saw that the button labelled ‘PH’ was illuminated. Fuck. “Most days I enjoy it,” he admitted. “But I kind of fell into it a while back and just sort of…” he shrugged, “Stuck with it.”

Sebastien asked no more, and the lift finally stopped on the top floor. The doors drew back to reveal an apartment beyond that Alec could only gawp at. It was like something from the set of an Architectural Digest photo shoot. Nothing was out of place in the hardwood floor paradise, with clean, crisp lines and white marble counter tops in the kitchen off to his left, while a comfortable, and yet still clinically modern, sitting area sat to their right. Deep, fluffy rugs dotted that part of the penthouse, and a wide balcony stretched out over the city beyond, complete with a little table and chairs for warmer evenings.

“This place is incredible,” Alec breathed, the reason for his even being here completely forgotten.

Clearly sensing that, Sebastien smiled bashfully and said, “Would you like something to drink?”

Alec cleared his throat and hoped he wasn’t going to be faced with a choice between very expensive wines that he’d never heard of. “Sure… thanks.”

“White, red, beer, or whisky?” he asked, walking towards the kitchen and dumping his ‘Alucard’ coat over the back of a white sofa as he went. Alec’s mouth went dry as he watched the point where his narrow hips met the flowing material of the white shirt. Dear god, an arse like that shouldn’t be… well, it just shouldn’t be. And yet there it was. Clad in leather and looking positively delectable. “Or a soft drink?” he added when Alec remained silent.

Aware of where his gaze had landed, Sebastien halted and looked back over his shoulder, long, loose, naturally straight hair already losing the curls that had been worked into it for the Alucard costume. Definitely not straight, if he owned hair curlers.

“Uh…” Alec said, unsure what the question had even been now.

“I’m going to pour myself a whisky, if that helps…?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Sebastien smiled, looking almost endeared by Alec’s inept stuttering. Surely he couldn’t be unused to such a reaction? “Make yourself at home then.”

With a smoky, peat-tinged whisky in a wide, heavy-bottomed tumbler set on his glass coffee table, Alec watched Sebastien turn the gas fire on, and, to his surprise, he came to a halt directly in front of him. Setting his own whisky down on the table with a deliberate, and yet delicate, clunk, Sebastien turned back to him and raked his eyes down Alec’s body in a way that made him flush hot all over. His cock twitched with interest and he tried not to preen under that gaze.

Sebastien’s eyes and teeth were back to normal now, with no hint of the golden contacts or the vampire fangs, and Alec fleetingly assumed that he must have removed them at some point between getting the whisky and appearing in front of him looking like he was about to ravish him. Oh dear god, please let him be about to ravish me, he thought with a big, dumb grin spreading across his face.

Seeing his reaction, Sebastien reached down and knelt facing him on the sofa, running his palm over the already-growing bulge in Alec’s jeans. Alec let out a deep grunt and rocked his hips up into the contact, throwing his head back against the soft, open weave of the white fabric. “Oh fuck,” he hissed.

Sebastien’s fingers found the button of his jeans and deftly undid it, but he paused. “May I?” he asked, and Alec found himself nodding before he’d even worked out what Sebastien wanted.

He found out a moment later, when his jeans were around his ankles and Sebastien was kneeling on the floor between his knees and licking a long stripe up the length of his rapidly hardening cock.

“Oh god,” he panted as the wet heat of Sebastien’s mouth engulfed half of his length and then drew back to leave his wet tip exposed to the slight chill of the apartment air. The contrast stole his breath for a heartbeat, but Sebastien returned his attentions to his cock, gently sucking and working him to full hardness in a matter of minutes.

Pleasure sparked through Alec’s whole body and he strained not to thrust back into Sebastien’s mouth, even as Sebastien took him right to the back of his throat, the tip of Alec’s cock nudging against the silky resistance of his throat.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” he chanted as Sebastien’s fingertips just teased and caressed the underside of his balls too, and Sebastien hollowed his cheeks and sucked a little more insistently. “Oh fuck…” Really fucking eloquent here, Alec, he thought vaguely, but one look down at the vision kneeling between his legs and sucking him off drove even that thought from his brain.

The suck and slide of Sebastien’s mouth was incredible, and while he had no idea quite how much time passed, it felt like mere seconds as the heat stoked in him until he could feel the orgasm threatening to crash through him. “I’m… I’m really close…” he gasped as Sebastien moaned against his cock, sending little vibrations thrumming through him and tipping him even closer. The sharp prick of his teeth every now and again was a perfect counterpoint to the slick heat of his mouth, and it was never enough to hurt. Normally Alec wasn’t one for including teeth in this, but with Sebastien, it felt perfect.

Sebastien pulled back just as Alec felt himself beginning to coil up, his lips swollen and glistening from the exertion of bringing him that close, and he smiled. He looked radiant, and Alec’s cock twitched enthusiastically in his hands as he let out a soft whimper. The air was cold and his tip beaded pre-come freely, which Sebastien thumbed away with a surprisingly tender gesture, only to watch as more pearled immediately at his slit. Using just the tip of his tongue, Sebastien lapped at it delicately and Alec’s whole body shuddered.

His thighs shook at the tiny, intense stimulation, with Sebastien's fingers gripping the base of his cock in a tight circle, and he gasped, chest heaving. It was too much and not enough, and as he found his perineum teased as well, he bellowed and trembled. He was half a heartbeat away from coming harder than he could ever remember coming in his life, and Sebastien wasn’t going to let him have it. He roared and ground his teeth, bucking his hips, which made Sebastien laugh softly.

“Alright,” he heard him murmur, before he swallowed him down to the back of his throat again, and Alec shattered with a yell.

When he finally blinked his eyes open, he found that Sebastien had risen and was sitting on the small sofa beside him, whisky in hand, staring openly at him. He didn’t look smug exactly, but there was a quiet satisfaction to his brown eyes that made Alec flush, at which Sebastien’s beautiful lips drew back into a smile. He noted again those slightly larger canines, but they were nothing like the vampire teeth he had worn earlier.

“What do you want?” Alec asked, voice hoarse. God, he sounded wrecked. Had he really shouted so hard he’d made his throat sore?

Sebastien’s dolorous, dark eyes crinkled slightly at the corners. “What do you want?”

“To watch you come,” he said immediately.

“And how would you like me to come?” Sebastien replied, sipping nonchalantly at the golden liquor as if the were discussing what Alec would like Sebastien to wear. As it was, his leather pants were constricting his obvious hard-on in a way that had to be painful for him, and his shirt was open at the neck to reveal delicate collarbones and a glimpse of his beautiful olive skinned chest.

He was an absolute vision. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he blurted in a whisper before he could stop himself, and to his surprise, Sebastien laughed. The sound was bright, delighted, and oddly self-conscious, as if he hadn’t been expecting a compliment like that. “Sorry,” he added, looking away. “Look… if you’ve got condoms, I’m… I’m good to… you know…”

“You want me to fuck you?” Sebastien asked, his gaze sharpening again.

“Yes?”

“’Yes?’ Or ‘yes’…?” Sebastien asked, seeking clarification.

“Yes. But I don't understand your question.”

“Look at me,” Sebastien said.

“Hard not to…” Alec quipped back, still feeling utterly wrung out.

“Most people assume I’m going to be the one taking it…”

Alec’s eyebrows rose as realisation settled. “Oh. And, what, I look like a top?”

Sebastien’s lips twitched. “Conventionally more so than I do, with your rugged looks and the rough shadow around your jaw…”

“So… do you want me to… you know…? Or…” Fuck, he felt like a teenager again, struggling to articulate himself and not get his sentences in a tangle while this breathtaking creature just sat there and watched him make an idiot out of himself.

“I very much want to fuck you,” Sebastien said at last. “If you’d like that as well.”

“Yes,” he said instantly.

Sebastien set down his glass and rose in a single, elegant motion, and then held his hand out to Alec.

His skin was still cool, especially next to Alec’s searing body, and his hold was steady as Alec heaved himself to his feet and allowed himself to be alternately tugged and kissed into the bedroom.

___

Part Three

Behold, plot has appeared to go with the Halloween porn I had planned. Alec’s family will come up in the next chapter.

___

I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!

#vampire #male vampire #male vampire x human #exophilia #vampire boyfriend #male vampire x male human #male monster #mlm #mlm exophilia

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peaceoutofthepieces · 3 years

Text

chapter 20

Fake Making-It

Social Media AU

previous chapter

~^~

Jens opens the door either a moment too soon or a moment too late. Sander and Lucas are already standing outside, as he’d thought, and are deep in conversation. Jens stands frozen in the doorway and waits for them to notice him. In that time, he takes in Lucas’s frown and Sander’s comforting hand on his shoulder. Lucas had been speaking before Jens opened the door, then he cut himself off abruptly.

Now they’re both staring at him. Silent.

Jens takes in the tension laced through Lucas and the frustration obvious in his face and feels nerves bubble up in him. He thought he had come prepared today, but now he’s doubting himself. He swallows as Lucas meets his eyes, but miraculously manages not to look away. They’re sort of friends, now, right? They’ve come a long way since their first meeting, at least. He doesn’t have to be so anxious. One simple look from Lucas should not tear his stomach to shreds.

It’s a little nerve-wracking, however, when Lucas slips away from Sander’s hand and brushes past Jens without a word.

Jens twists his head to look after him for a moment, then turns back to Sander and tries not to appear too awkward or concerned. “Everything okay?” he carefully asks.

Sander is still looking after Lucas, seeming pained, and then he looks at Jens and blinks. “Yeah, of course,” he smiles. “Sorry, we’re a little late.”

Nothing about this is very convincing. Jens wouldn’t consider himself a people expert, and he’s especially not overly familiar with Sander, but even he can tell that his smile is a little forced and his body strung a little too tight. He doesn’t think they were fighting. It didn’t even really seem like they were arguing.

But there’s definitely a shared tension between them. Jens doesn’t understand why this makes him simultaneously curious and more anxious.

“You’re fine,” he says, stepping back and beckoning Sander in, shutting the door behind him.

They’re using the front room in Jens’s apartment as a studio space. He hadn’t thought much ahead before offering it up, but Sander had barely paid attention when he first showed up and gave Jens no reason to fret. He hadn’t really cared what Sander would think either way.

He may have taken a little extra care this morning. (Or in the last hour, after waking up late and proceeding to rush around like a mad man.) Robbe may have raised his brows at him in teasing surprise when he showed up, and it may have made Jens feel even more silly for being so nervous.

But no matter how friendly their texts seem to have gotten, Lucas is still very intimidating.

Jens has no idea how they’re supposed to interact in person, and it doesn’t help that Lucas already seems to be in a rather dull mood. He isn’t sure why he expects Sander to continue to try to do something about it. Instead the blond lingers back with him as Lucas greets Robbe, smiling now as Robbe offers him a bro-handshake. Jens lets out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding at the sight, feeling a smile of his own grow as Robbe immediately strikes up a friendly conversation with the other man.

It’s not that he’d been nervous about Robbe, but well, he imagines that it isn’t easy. He doesn’t know how Robbe does it.

Lucas is already shrugging his bag off his shoulder and pulling out his sketchbook and his camera. Jens feels anticipation bubble in the pit of his stomach.

“Hey,” he greets, once they’re close enough, and to his delight, Lucas glances up and offers him something like a smile. “Everything good?”

Robbe nods as Lucas says, “Yep. Or, well, depends. What’s the plan?”

He looks to Jens for direction, and Jens forces himself not to stutter, instead simply turning to Robbe for help.

“Uh, well,” Robbe thinks, glancing between them all before finally settling on Sander. Jens hopes he’s the only one who notices how Robbe’s cheeks flush. “You don’t urgently need to work with Jens today, do you?”

Sander blinks at him, then quickly shakes his head.

“Okay, well I filmed a little bit of your shoot with Jens the other day, and I’ve been thinking I could edit it into like a promo to sort of announce things before we release the actual pics? But I was hoping I could maybe get your opinion on it first.”

“That’s a really cool idea,” Sander says, brightening. The smile on his face appears much more genuine than before. Jens supposes that’s what a passion can do. He hopes it’ll have the same effect on Lucas.

Robbe looks to Lucas and then to him, smiling as well. “That’s if you guys are happy enough to work this out yourselves? I’m sure Lucas knows what he’s doing, and I mean we’ll just be here if you want another opinion on anything.”

Jens raises his brows as Lucas glances at him.

Lucas offers Robbe a nod and a smile. “Sounds good.”

Jens notes that he doesn’t speak to or even glance at Sander as Robbe guides him to the small table in the corner while Jens and Lucas remain at the island. Jens hesitantly takes a seat, then gestures for Lucas to do the same, trying to remind himself to be both chill and professional. He’s usually able to manage it at meetings. Maybe it’s being in his home that makes it feel a little more personal.

“Hi,” he repeats, watching Lucas’s concentrated frown as he skims through his sketchbook.

Lucas looks up at him and seems, again, vaguely amused. “Hi.” He skims his gaze over Jens, tilting his head curiously. “Are you always this nervous?”

No, Jens thinks. Just with you.

“Sometimes,” he says.

Lucas huffs, smiling now as he looks back down. “Don’t be. I’m the one preparing to be criticised this time.”

“You were very intimidating last time we spoke.”

“Because I told you to watch it?” Lucas raises a brow at him.

Jens blanks, then remembers their text conversation from yesterday and flushes. “No, I mean, the last time we actually spoke. At the first meeting.”

“Ah.” Lucas nods. “In person. That usually makes me less intimidating.”

“Why?” Jens’s brow furrows.

Lucas raises his brows again and gestures at himself. Jens takes him in. His curls are as artfully styled as ever, falling over his forehead in messy waves, and below that his eyes are a stunning blue. He’s wearing another loose shirt, this time black with a light floral pattern. Jens can see the collar of a tee poking out underneath. Along with that, Lucas is wearing skin-tight jeans and shiny black boots along with his usual assortment of jewelry, rings adorning his fingers and silver bracelet glinting from his wrist. Jens wonders if any of them are gifts from Sander.

“I don’t get it,” Jens says. He means it. Lucas is beautiful. He looks like the true model here. It’s part of what intimidates Jens so much.

Lucas wiggles his fingers at him, showing off dark purple nails, then flexes a skinny arm. “Very intimidating, I imagine.”

Jens frowns. “You don’t need to be brawny to be intimidating. Honestly, I think I’m probably more intimidated by pretty people. Especially when they’re confident.”

Lucas stares at him for a minute, and Jens must imagine the flush on his cheeks, because then he snorts and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, okay, you basically just described yourself.”

Jens grins in surprise, but before he can say anything else, Lucas is spinning his sketchbook around and shoving it towards him, then digging back into his bag. Jens drags his gaze away and down to the paper in front of him. It’s littered in designs, different emblems and patterns interlocking across the double page. There are a few combinations of his initials, which he supposes also work well with a self-titled album. As much as Jens felt creative with words in the songwriting process, naming the songs and especially the album had been a frustratingly difficult task, so much so that he’d eventually just settled on JENS.

Robbe has been very skeptical, but Jens’s label seemed to think it was a good choice, and that was good enough for him. It wasn’t about the names or the titles, anyway.

Lucas seems to have also recognised this, and there are some heavy references to the actual music in some of the sketches. Lucas has sprinkled waves and rain and other forms of water throughout some of the designs, or focused on them entirely. Along with that are cages and chains, locks and keys, and beautiful wings.

Jens instantly falls in love with all of them, and then turns the page only to find more. He lets out a long breath. “How much time did this take you?”

He looks up in time to see Lucas shrug. He’s now staring down at an iPad. “Not that long. I might’ve stayed up a little longer than I should have, though.” He shrugs again, and now Jens believes the flush crawling up his neck has to be real. “The album gave me a lot of ideas.”

Jens nods. He hovers his fingers over some of the sketches, leaning down to admire them in closer detail.

Lucas makes a small sound of triumph, and then slides the iPad on top of the sketchbook. “I did a few out then on some rough clothing sketches, just to get an idea what they’d look like brought to life and put together. This doesn’t take that long, so if there’s any ideas you’d like me to group or something we could spend a while messing around with that. Or as long as you tell me, I can do it when I go home.”

“Everything is amazing.” Jens shakes his head, awed. He blows out another breath and laughs slightly as he looks up at Lucas. “I don’t know how you expect me to choose anything. None of these should be left out. Fuck, this one’s amazing.” He taps his finger on a sketch of drooped wings encased in a golden birdcage. He takes the iPad and lets Lucas draw the sketchbook back towards himself to examine, humming quietly in agreement.

He knew Lucas was talented. He’d gone after him for that exact reason. But seeing how quickly he’s managed to create all of this, how easily he’d brought the images in Jens’s words to life—he’s in awe. As well as that, he’s managed to implement the designs onto hoodies and t-shirts and sweatpants and hats and everything in between. Excitement floods through Jens at the prospect of getting to wear one himself, never mind seeing such items on anyone else. He smiles secretly to himself as he imagines Lucas donning a sweatshirt with his initials embroidered on the chest.

He doubts Lucas would ever sacrifice his beloved reputation to such an extent, or like Jens that much in the first place, but he’s allowed to dream.

“Yeah, I’m never going to be able to choose. I’m so sorry for making this more difficult but you’re just—this is just too good.” Jens shakes his head, still scrolling through the different images, and Lucas huffs.

“I didn’t expect you to be such a suck-up,” Lucas teases.

Jens looks up at him, exaggeratedly rolling his eyes. Then he lets his expression turn earnest and shrugs. “I’m telling the truth, like I hope you did with me.” He’d been relieved, and pleased, when Lucas had given such a kind review of his album yesterday. It was almost hard to believe. He’d instantly gone and listened to the third and last songs again, the ones Lucas had said were his favourite, and had a smile on his face for the rest of the day.

Lucas’s smile slips now, and some of Jens’s nerves come back. Lucas clears his throat and snaps his sketchbook closed, setting it aside so he can pull his camera towards him. “We can ask Robbe for his opinion, later? It might help. Even if you’re just able to rule things out together.”

Jens suddenly remembers his best friend only a few feet away, and Lucas’s boyfriend with him, and quickly glances over his shoulder. He’s been doing well, every other day, at keeping an eye on them. He knows how easily Robbe could get hurt or upset, no matter how much he protests that he’s getting over his crush perfectly fine. Jens knows it’s far from the truth, both because he knows the full capacity of Robbe’s feelings and because it must be ten times harder to get over someone you see every day. He knows Robbe avoids contacting Sander now outside of work as much as he can. He knows it isn’t easy, and he’s been doing his best to provide a comforting buffer.

Now, though, he turns around just in time for Robbe to start giggling as Sander talks animatedly. Robbe is staring at his laptop screen instead of Sander, and his cheeks are flushed, but he’s smiling wide. Not upset, not yet, but quite possibly digging himself into a hole. Sander, at least, appears oblivious, happy and excited as he makes a dozen hand gestures and leans farther across the table to get a better look.

“Yeah, we’ll do that when they’re done,” he agrees, shooting a smile back at Lucas.

Lucas is watching Robbe and Sander, too, the furrow back between his brows. Jens remembers the sour mood that he’d arrived in, the tension between him and Sander, and resists asking if everything is okay. He’s told Robbe enough times, when he was mourning over Sander, that it’s none of their business. He shouldn’t be the one to butt in now.

He gently hands Lucas’s iPad back to him instead, then raises his brows. “Meanwhile, do you want a snack? Or something to drink?”

Lucas smiles at him. “Oh, he remembers to be a good host.”

Jens pulls a face at him. His heart flutters when Lucas actually laughs in response. “Five seconds and I retract my offer,” he threatens.

“Water would be nice, maybe,” Lucas acquiesces instantly. “And if you have any chocolate, I won’t say no.”

“Huh, sweet tooth. Noted.” Jens winks at him, pushing to his feet and glancing back at the other two co-workers. “Sander, can I get you anything?”

Sander quickly looks at him and shakes his head, and his eyes slide on over to Lucas and he tries for a smile. Lucas either truly misses it or pretends not to notice.

Jens bites down his questions once more. “Robbe?” He waits for his friend to shake his head and then goes to fetch water and chocolate for Lucas. A few minutes later, when Lucas has eaten half of the biscuits on the plate Jens had left out and is taking a sip of his water, Jens decides on a safer line of interrogation. “So, how many times did you actually end up listening to the album?”

Lucas rolls his eyes. “Those two times. And then the first few songs again because Sander joined me and he’d missed those.” Lucas pauses, blinking at Jens with wide eyes. “I hope that’s okay.”

Jens waves him off. “Yeah, obviously. I don’t expect you to keep anything from Sander, especially when you share a room.” He raises a brow. Lucas doesn’t react. “Besides, you both signed the contracts. Sander’s in our trust, too.”

“Okay,” Lucas nods, smiling slightly again. Jens’s chest warms. “That’s good, then.”

Jens smiles back at him, and they sit in silence for a moment, considering each other. Jens realises Lucas’s attention isn’t making him as anxious anymore. Their texting relationship seems to have actually carried over into real life, and he’s relieved.

Lucas takes another sip of his water and then grabs his camera again. “How do you feel about doing a practice shoot? I might even be able to mess around and edit some of the designs onto you then. Plus it’ll be a lot easier when the time comes if I’m already familiar with you and your angles and the lighting and everything.” Lucas waves a hand.

Jens bites down his smile and nods in acceptance. “Okay, sure. Just tell me where you want me.”

It turns out his nerves aren’t entirely gone. It’s different, when he’s sitting on a stool and Lucas is focusing entirely on how he looks. It’s different when there’s a camera pointed at him and Lucas is the one behind it. He doesn’t want to mess up. He doesn’t want to frustrate Lucas, and he doesn’t want to look like an idiot.

It turns out this makes the whole process more difficult.

“Are you always this tense?” Lucas asks, vaguely concerned, and Jens’s shoulders tense further. Lucas sighs. “Don’t act so much like you’re posing. Just, do whatever feels comfortable.”

Jens wriggles on the stool. He draws a leg up. Puts it back down again. He leans forward to rest his arms on his knees and almost falls off the stool, which is too high for that position to work. He leans back and crosses his ankles, tucking his hands in his pockets.

Lucas snaps a photo, then considers it with a frown. He examines Jens again. “Maybe spread your legs?” He suggests.

Jens instantly raises his brows and smirks slightly, just to see Lucas rolls his eyes and set an unimpressed hand on his hip. Jens relents and spreads his legs, planting his feet and letting his hands dangle between his knees.

Lucas takes another photo and stares at it for a moment. Then he says, “How about we go outside?”

Jens blinks at him. “Why?”

“Because if you’re just walking around, not posing, I might get something more natural. I can tell you’re not feeling this.”

Lucas isn’t exactly wrong. The only thing Jens is feeling right now is sick. He’s twitchy and his stomach keeps rolling and Lucas’s gaze is too intense. He can’t sit still. Maybe it will help if he doesn’t have to.

“You’re the expert,” he says. “I can go wherever you want me.”

Lucas shakes his head. “No. Wherever you want. Somewhere you’re a little more in your element.”

Jens thinks, then nods. “Okay.”

“Okay.” Lucas grins, letting his camera settle around his neck. He moves back to the island and collects the coat he’d abandoned there, the same denim jacket with the fluffy collar he’d worn the first time they’d met. He slides his arms into the sleeves and turns to the other two men in the flat, clicking his fingers once to get their attention. “We’re going out to take some photos. Do you two wanna come with?”

Jens doesn’t know if he wants them to. The possibility of being alone with Lucas is terrifying and thrilling all at once. He decides this thought in itself is enough to make up his mind. He shoots a panicked, pleading look at Robbe, but Robbe is already looking at Lucas and nodding his head. He doesn’t seem to notice Sander’s frown.

“Yeah, sure,” Robbe agrees, and Jens lets out a breath of relief. He supposes his friend likely doesn’t want to be left here alone with Sander, either. “Where are we going?”

“Wherever Jens wants.” Lucas fiddles with his camera for a moment. “He needs to chill.”

Robbe raises his brows as Sander blinks. There’s a hint of a laugh in Robbe’s tone. “Jens needs to chill?”

“He’s always been chill with me,” Sander agrees, confused.

Lucas looks up to blink at them, then at Jens, amused. “Do I scare you that much?”

Jens flushes and pointedly ignores Robbe’s giggle. “No. I’m just, stressed. We’re releasing the first music video and announcing the album in two weeks and I’m very aware of all the things that could go wrong and how shitty I’ll probably feel.”

That shuts them up fairly quickly. Sander simply offers a sympathetic smile and Lucas’s expression softens as he seems to search for something to say. It’s Robbe, however, who raises to his feet and grabs Jens by the shoulders, squeezing reassuringly. “You won’t. It’ll be amazing, and we’re going to spend the entire day celebrating. Right now, Lucas is right. We should go out and have fun.”

“You definitely need it,” Lucas agrees, tilting his head towards the door, brows raised.

“Come on.” Robbe slaps his shoulder. “Skate park? It’s been a long time.”

Jens sucks in a breath, then slowly lets it out as he nods. They spend a moment collecting coats, keys, and boards, and then Jens ushers them all out and locks the door behind them. Robbe leads the way outside and down the sidewalk, and Jens half hopes Lucas will instantly rope him into conversation and start giving orders. Instead Sander slips an arm over Lucas’s shoulders and speaks to him quietly, and after a moment Lucas is nodding and leaning into his side.

Jens looks away and catches Robbe’s gaze, then falls into step alongside his best friend, bumping his shoulder. “Okay?” he asks quietly.

Robbe gives him a tight smile and a nod and Jens ruffles his hair.

The skatepark is relatively empty, but the people who are there continuously sneak glances at the group, whispering and grinning between themselves. Jens sees a guy pointing his phone at them. This isn’t entirely unusual, but it doesn’t help him destress.

“Just ignore them,” Robbe reminds him. “But be aware I’m gonna post a few stories because people are starting to ask if you’ve died.”

Jens rolls his eyes, but he does his best to listen. He looks to Lucas first, who merely waves his hand in a ‘go ahead’ gesture. He realises soon that it does help. It’s been a while since he’s skated, but it still loosens him up like it used to, still gets his blood rushing and allows him a few moments of freedom. He flips off Robbe’s phone and winks at Lucas’s camera and doesn’t really allow himself to think about either, or the way Sander is watching over Lucas’s shoulder and occasionally directing him, both of them smiling and bickering now.

He finally rejoins them and plops himself down on top of the half pipe, where Lucas immediately comes to kick at his thigh. “Weird question, but can I have a go?”

Jens blinks up at him, noticing how he’s rocking on his heels with barely constrained energy, and raises his brows. “Skating?”

“Yeah?” Lucas raises his eyebrows back. “Is that a no?”

“Uh, no, go for it. I mean, if you can.”

Lucas huffs, carefully setting his camera and his jacket on the ground next to Jens before picking up his board. He plants it at the top of the ramp, a foot balancing it on the edge, and cocks an eyebrow at Jens again before he’s racing down the ramp with a wave.

Jens stares after him, astonished, as he navigates the park on Jens’s board with ease. He barely notices Robbe and Sander sitting down with him until Sander wolf-whistles and Lucas flips him off as he passes. Jens feels something thrum in his stomach as he watches Lucas and can’t quite figure out what it is.

When Lucas finally comes to a stop below them, flicking his hair off his forehead, Jens gives an exaggerated clap. Lucas simply grins up at him, eyes considering as he holds the board up for Jens to take, then requests, “Pass me my camera?”

Jens does so without question, and Lucas’s lips curl as he looks up at him and then snaps a photo. “I just have to capture the utter shock and awe on your face right now.”

Jens sets a hand on his thigh and stares down at him, unimpressed, but his brow furrows slightly as the camera goes off again.

Lucas takes it away from his face and examines the image he’d taken, pursing his lips slightly. “Not bad. Who knew you could actually be sort of photogenic.”

Jens pulls a face at him as he grins and draws himself up next to Sander, who immediately leans in to look at the photos he’s taken. Lucas doesn’t hesitate to lean towards him, this time, and then he’s laughing at whatever Sander says, turning towards him with a dazzling smile Jens hasn’t seen yet. Their faces are so close they could kiss.

Robbe seems to have the same thought and looks away, showing Jens his hurt expression for an instant before focusing steadily out at the skatepark, his pinched lips the only visible sign of jealousy.

Jens has to look away, too, and finds himself mimicking the expression. It’s only then that he recognises the heavy feeling in his own stomach as the same emotion. He doesn’t know how he didn’t notice it before. Jealousy has never been foreign to him.

He darts another glance at Lucas, in shock and slowly expanding terror, and notes how his heart flutters and then pinches as he throws his head back and laughs and Sander reaches out and fixes his hair for him.

Oh, fuck.

~^~

tag list: @allthewayornowayy @wedarkacademia @lockerfivethreefive @yellowballoon @gucciboner @nora-keinwitz @moonskam @painfully-oblivious @zoenneforever @akucecilia @hischbabe @evaksobbe @alittleemo @boring-side-effect @franboos

next chapter

#wtfock #skam nl #sobbe #robbe x sander #van der stoffels #vds #fake making-it

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hkbfinn · 2 years

Text

Lessons in calmness

In 1999 I wanted more from my music. It was hard to break away from the sampling culture I had known since 1988. Making music by sampling other people’s music got boring for me. So in 1999, even though it was expensive to try to develop my own musical language (by using musicians) I was so inspired by so many greats who came before me, I had to try. So I paid for recording studios, rehearsal studios, musician fees & engineering sessions with my own money.

I was also more afraid of making another recording that did not include my musical compositions or used my musical language. The temptations to copy others production styles was strong but I resisted. I learned too much not to implement original styles in my art.

Hip Hop taught me the importance of rhythm. Live gigs taught me the value of arrangements. Writing my own lyrics as the lead vocalist of Katch22 taught me the importance of making sense in my writing.

So I pushed myself to become a better artist & create a new way of expressing myself. I worked with a number of producers trying to graft a sound of my own but in the end, I found my stride.

But with anything new, there were doubters. This came in the form of people who would sabotage what ever I was doing in subtle ways. They would agree to do a recording session, only to pull out at the last minute because they had something more important to do or they had a double booking every single time we had agreed on previously or they would waste time in the studio doing everything but what they were there for.

Some of them stopped working with me completely because they wanted to focus on their interests. They went on to work with artists who were on bigger labels or who were not independent like I was. I wished them well & kept building my vibe. I think that was cool because their rejection taught me a lot.

Rejection is never acceptable in any form but my ambition to make a form of music that speaks to my heritage, my lived truth & my culture was too important to allow short sighted people stop my progress.

I also learned to recognise the signs of sabotage, self sabotage & envy. People are so dedicated to protecting their comforts they have these amazing systems of self oppression that they think they are slick. They think they’re not obvious. I used to smile, help them with their excuses & carried on regardless. I see the energy of people who agree to do a project & then decide they cannot be bothered.

But, I got to make 8 original albums in the process with zero cover versions & each song I have made on these many albums is a complete original.

I’m proud of the process of learning, the collaborations & the many recording sessions with different instruments, different musicians & in different studios that expanded my knowledge & experience as a writer, composer, performer & producer. These are all lessons in calmness. They taught me to stay calm in the midst of chaos & not get dragged down by peoples sabotage or lack of faith or insecurities. Just keep calm & keep building.

Today I am happy, proud & glad to look back at my work so far.

Today is a beautiful day...❁

Created by HKB FiNN

www.justjazzvisuals.com

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falsegoodnight · 4 years

Text

part one of my december fic rec! this list encompasses the fics i’ve read from the 1st to the 15th so half of this month! (mostly just the first week and a half though because FINALS!)

there’s still twenty fics/ficlets on here though which is insane so that’s why i’m splitting my monthly recs into two lists again!

you can find part two here

—

✰ (have yourself a) Merry little Christmas by @defencelesst | G | 1k (so so so soft and sweet and perfect!! lottie’s stories always warm my heart!)

There's a saying in Korean culture about how watching the first snow of the year with someone means you're destined to stay together for a long time.

✰ Still by @allwaswell16 | NR | 2k (a timestamp for this series) (so sweet and heartwarming! the PERFECT end to the series!)

Louis has settled into his life in Colorado with Harry, their horses, and of course, Lacey the goat. And now the day has arrived to finally marry the man who makes this place feel like home.

✰ sugary sweet by @soldouthaz | E | 4k (drabble from this series) (hot, hot, hot! did i mention, hot?)

From the corner of his eye he can see every movement. The fire makes Louis’ skin even more golden than usual, the peaks of his nipples dark pink in pale contrast. His chest is already beginning to rise and fall quicker where a blush has bloomed up near his throat from his excitement. His arm is raised, shaking lightly as he holds up the icing can, his mouth parted as he pants softly.

Louis looks ethereal, and Harry’s having a more difficult time than he thought not being able to touch him.

✰ Thank you, five by @nouies | E | 6k (technically a reread) (so so cute and lovely and hot!!!)

“Harry?” He says as soon as he recognises the other man.

“Louis? Wh-what are you doing here?” Harry asks with a frown.

“Well, I’m here for rehearsal,” Louis announces with a proud smile.

There’s a flash of confusion on Harry’s face. “What do you mean rehearsal? I got the part, you didn’t.”

✰ can you keep me close, can you love me most? by @soldouthaz | G | 6k (a drabble from this series) (made me CRY!! love this world and these characters so so much!!!)

“I’m so sorry, Harry. This was supposed to be our night and we were going to eat and then walk around the city and-”

“Lou, it’s alright,” Harry says, “seriously. We can always make another reservation. Don’t worry about it, love.”

“I know, just -” Louis cuts himself off with a sigh.

He knows they can reschedule. It’s not so much that he cares about the reservation, really, or any of the food. His students are so important to him and he’d always drop anything to help them, except that he sort of - well, Louis sort of thought Harry would propose tonight.

✰ singing your praises by @loubellies | E | 6k (really hot and sexy but also cute!)

Prompt 86: Louis rides Harry while wearing his packer’s jersey/sweater and gets his ass ate.

✰ You’ll wait for me only by @tired-eyes-lou | T | 9k (love accidental bonding fics! cute!)

Harry nips at the bondmark on Louis’ neck, Louis’ hands go to his hips, grounding him. He allows himself this, knowing that his Omega needs it too. Harry pulls back, “Go on a date with me.” He rushes out, looking at Louis’ eyes.

Louis laughs and shakes his head. “No, Louis, I’m serious. We’ve bonded for life anyway, might as well try.” Louis looks at him, “You’ve been thinking about this a lot.” Louis points out, Harry nods. “Okay.” Louis says and walks out leaving Harry. “Okay what?!”

✰ Pretty and Pink by @larryinpantiess | E | 13k (cute and lovely! love trucker harry!)

Harry never lets anyone come on the road with him.

Then, a cute hitchhiker, Louis comes around.

✰ show you the stars in the daylight by @yvesaintlourent | E | 13k (AMAZING INCREDIBLE PERFECT! i love childhood best friends and also !! miscommunication !! idiots in love !!)

Louis has a type and at sixteen and scrawny, it's definitely not his best friend's little brother Harry...ten years later, he changes his mind.

✰ silver linings by @millsxwriting | T | 14k (so cute and sweet :’) as a big fan of emails, this made my heart happy)

As Louis starts his freshman year of college out of state, Harry finishes his last year of high school back home. The distance between California and Arizona has both of them gripping onto everything they can to make their relationship work.

✰ Won’t Keep You My (Dirty Little) Secret by @lovelykits | M | 16k (wow wow wow i adored this!!! louis and harry were both so lovely!)

Louis and Harry have been together since the end of last year and somehow no one knows about it.

✰ The Boy with the Tin Chest and the Glass Heart by @louloubabys1992 | M | 18k (amazing concept and so cute!! love the inclusion of fairy tales in this one too!)

Alpha Harry Styles, world-renowned author of fairy-tales, is being persuaded by the Beta, Liam Payne, to hire a new illustrator. Since Harry’s own illustrations are too graphic for what is supposed to be children’s stories, Liam feels the need is dire. Omega Louis does not agree with Liam since he believes that Harry’s stories are fine just the way they are. Of course this has nothing to do with Louis being totally biased or totally head over heels for Harry. It certainly has nothing to do with being jealous of the mysterious omega illustrator Liam has in mind to team Harry up with.

Seriously, it has nothing to do with that at all. Nothing, absolutely nothing, zilch, nada.

Yeah...

✰ Across the Grey, Salty Sea by @the-cheshire-pussy-cat | E | 20k (incredible!!! the ending made me so emotional ahh)

Prompt 212: Alex from Dunkirk and French escort/prostitute Louis who ends up in Alex’s quarters more nights than not. Alex gives him his dog tag to wear maybe just a lot of smut and dirty talk with Louis being a pretty princess.

✰ blue songs are like tattoos by @loubellies | E | 31k (berkeley chant!! but so so cute and amazing! loved the playlist that went with it too!)

“Good morning, University of California, you’re listening to KALX 90.7 FM Berkeley, this is DJ Harry Styles. If the owner of the tapes I’ve been finding around the studio doesn’t come forward and introduce himself, I’m going to continue tossing them straight in the trash!”

✰ Freeway of Love (In a Pink Cadillac) by @mizzhydes | E | 33k (the plot twist took me off guard but wow!)

Louis was on his way to Miami to visit an old friend. Harry was going there for a little R&R and take in the sights and sounds. A sudden upgrade in seating brought these polar opposites together. The universe works in mysterious ways and they are unknowingly about to embark on an adventure they will surely remember for a lifetime.

✰ Cold As Ice And Everything Nice by @harriblou | M | 41k (this was so sweet and amazing and tender <333 loved it!)

Louis is a professional ice-skater and he meets Harry, who offers to clean the ice for him.

✰ When Our Worlds They Fall Apart by @holdingthornsandroses | E | 42k (louis as leia??? harry as han solo??? amazing perfect incredible! made my heart happy!)

Harry put his hand over his heart as if Louis had wounded him. “You’re so harsh, my liege! Perhaps you need to relieve some tension…” He let his voice trail off suggestively.

“The day I ask YOU to relieve tension is the day I lose all my wits and join the Imperials,” Louis said. “It will never happen.”

✰ A Place With Skeletons by @crazyupsetter | E | 51k (yet another masterpiece from this author. continues to blow me away <3 that one line (you know if you know) still sticks with me today)

“I would choose anyone other than you,” Louis says, picking up his train of thought again. He feels a lot more cornered and defensive when they’re in Harry’s house, for some reason. It doesn’t really make sense, considering that this time, Louis was the one who couldn’t hack it any longer. He broke first. There’s something about being in Harry’s space, though, the green and earthy feeling of it. It should feel like open space with all the plants, but Louis has never felt more claustrophobic than he does when he’s here.

Harry’s chest moves against his back, a sharp intake of air. Before he can open his mouth to defend himself, Louis keeps going, “If I had a choice in any of this, I would have been saved by that elderly security guard over you. I wouldn’t mind having to have the occasional cuddle with her.”

✰ through the wheatfields and the coastlines by @thepolourryexpress | E | 53k (ni was right. i definitely fell in love with cowboy harry but i’m not complaining! this fic had it all and i’ll definitely be rereading this in the future - so so amazing!)

Louis needs inspiration, and a certain cowboy and his lamb are the perfect distraction.

✰ Know I Think You’re Awesome, Right? by @princesshalo | E | 60k (amazing amazing amazing! loved the conflict between louis and harry and their dynamic!)

A college AU where Louis is a hippie, very good vibes activist and Harry is a punk, anarchist that always gets involved in violent protests.

If you read any of these lovely fics, remember to leave kudos and comment to show your appreciation!

*if i made any errors, please let me know :)

enjoy!

#my fic recs #fic recs #2020 recs #december 2020 recs #december recs

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spectacularlyignorantt · 3 years

Text

From the dining table

March 2017

Louis sat in the kitchen looking around, dust covering every possible surface. Princess Park, their first home, the place they bought together without telling anyone and then never sold after the breakup. Maybe because they couldn't see each other and not end up in bed, regretting it in the morning. Maybe because they both knew this time apart meant nothing. They were destined to be together, a love no one could understand, right?

The last time he saw Harry was after the presentation of his single Just Hold On on the X-Factor, but they had not been a proper couple for around a year. If you didn’t count the sex, of course. Louis didn’t. Sex didn’t mean much, not when he knew what it felt like to be in a relationship with Harry Styles for 5 years. They would have stopped seeing each other when the band started the hiatus if it wasn’t for his mom's health getting worse. Harry stood next to him all those months, giving him comfort, keeping her company when Louis was too tired to stay awake. Harry was part of his family, after all. And Louis knew Anne, Gems and Robin felt the same way about him.

The reason for their break up was a mystery for everyone, a question never answered. They belonged together, no one could say the opposite after expending time with the couple for 10 minutes. Either you were blind or disgusted by their love, in a cute way.

Louis knew, of course. It was a decision, more than anything. They felt like the only thing holding them together was the band and decided to take a break to figure out if there was more than that. So they never sold their first home because there was no chance they weren't going back together.

Lately, Louis wasn’t so sure about that. To be honest, he wasn't sure about anything. The sky was pouring like it should be, for mood purposes. The lump in his throat made breathing hard, the weight in his chest holding him down in the chair. He closed his eyes, he wasn’t going to cry. The promise he made to his mother was still clear in his mind and it was killing him. Because lately, it felt like Harry had forgotten about them. With his solo music, the movie, all that pr girlfriends Louis knew he hated. All that glamour, all those lights. Why would he be thinking about Louis? Maybe they were right, maybe it wasn’t destiny but circumstance.

Things got worse recently, after Niall went to his flat a couple of days before, wearing that big old tee and Louis told him he smelled like Harry. He wasn’t jealous, not really. It was Niall, for god’s sake. But Niall was around his baby a lot, they had a close friendship not many knew about. Something about the unusual sadness in Niall's eyes told him much more than the calls Haz never answered. Harry didn’t want him anymore. They were done.

The pressure in his head felt compressive like the one in his heart. All those shots, pints and pot weren’t a good combination. Neither was that boy with curls but the wrong shade of green when he woke up that morning in a hotel room, unable to remember much about the night before. But what else could he do? How could he go to Harry right now and tell him he was sorry for his insecurities? For ruining everything without a good reason? How could he tell him he was sorry? Liam and Oli said he needed to give it time, but everyday felt a little bit more far away from home. So he came back.

There was a notepad where they used to write the grocery list sitting on the counter, next to the fridge. He took it and the pen on the table, the dim light coming from the closed window. He didn't know what to do, how to get out of this pain, this love. How to be himself again.

So Louis did the only thing he felt like he could do right: he wrote a song. It was more of a letter, really. But it was shaped like a song, that was his strong suit after all. And Harry loved to see him write, once upon a time. Used to dance with him in that kitchen, used to make him pancakes in the morning. They used to talk and fuck and chat for hours between those walls.

To Harry:

Woke up alone in this hotel room

Played with myself, where were you?

Fell back to sleep, I got drunk by noon

I've never felt less cool

We haven't spoke since you went away

Comfortable silence is so overrated, Harry

Why won't you ever be the first one to break?

Even my phone misses your call, by the way

I saw Niall the other day

He said you feel just fine

I see you gave him my old t-shirt

More of what was once mine

I see it's written, it's all over his face

Comfortable silence is so overrated

Why won't you ever say what you want to say?

Even my phone misses your call,

And by the way

Maybe one day you'll call me and tell me that you're sorry too

But you, you never do

Woke up this boy who looked just like you

I almost said your name

We haven't spoke since you went away

Comfortable silence is so overrated

Why won't you ever say what you want to say?

Even my phone misses your call

By the way…

He stopped there, unable to continue. His hand was shaking, the tears were smushing the ink on the paper. What a fucking cliche, crying after promising himself he wasn’t going to do it. Nothing could hurt as much as losing his mum, nothing could compare. So why was he crying? Why couldn’t he just fucking stop?

Louis got up from the chair and walked away from the dining table, leaving the notepad there. He knew deep in his broken heart that the next time he came back it was going to be there. Left and forgotten, just like that house and those memories. Louis left it there next to his allowance to feel sorry for himself. He needed to grow up, get away from those parties and false people. He was going to get his shit together, write away his feelings and find his sound.

And if Harry didn’t want him in his life, then there was nothing left to do, right?

May 2017

The recording of Back to you was finally over and now they need it to work in the music video and he wanted to film it on Doncaster. It felt right to go back to his ‘home’, if he couldn't go back home, you know what I mean? It went well with the theme.

Louis was driving back from the studio to his flat when a notification popped out in this phone: Harry’s album was out and apparently, people thought a couple of songs were about him. Louis wasn't going to be surprised if they were, both wrote about each other a lot along the way. And the fans loved to link things, made up theories about the Larry situation. Something he wished he could out and say ‘yes it was true but it's over now, please stop tagging me, it hurts’. It didn’t. not as much anymore.

Or that’s what he thought until he heard track 4, Two Ghost. He knew those lyrics, Harry had written them years ago. That is what they used to call each other’s public images: ghosts. Images without a soul. What a young and dramatic pair they used to be, back in 2013.

He didn't cry with that one, maybe because of its familiarity. And he wasn’t even mad about the songs about girls, he knew Harry better than that, even after all this time.

Next was Sweet Creature, the one everyone was speculating about, and honestly Harry, ‘two hearts, one home’? The song felt different. Maybe because he thought that Harry didn’t really remember about their lost home, about being young and in love. Too young to know, most people used to say. What a fool he was for listening. Now he knew, and it was too late.

Kiwi was funny in the most depressing way for him, Woman felt like an anthem, it felt like Harry’s jealousy, his deep and most dark possessive behavior. But then, when a chord from a guitar came in he went to his phone to check the name. He wasn’t quick enough, tho. The first verse stopped him right there. It was a good thing he parked in his apartment building a couple of songs ago.

Because there, in the shape of the last song of H’s first album, it was Louis' letter. His feelings in a notepad, in the shape of an awkward song. Almost word by word, Harry’s voice filled the car with calmness and longing, a branch of olive. He was giving the first step. If those little easter eggs along the album weren’t enough, he took Louis letter from two fucking months ago and put it there. He probably had to push the label to do it, with such short notice. Harry went out of his way to let him know it wasn’t over.

Harry went back to Princess Park, just like him. He went back home.

----

His friend picked up the phone after two missed calls.

‘Oi Lou, how ya doin?’ the thick Irish accent wasn’t enough of a distraction.

‘Hey lad, I’m fine. Sorry to bother but I need to ask you something’ he could hear the urgency in his own voice.

‘Never a bother mate, whatever you need’ Niall, always the optimistic. Louis loved him.

‘Is Harry staying here? In London I mean’

‘What? What's going on?’ and then ‘Oh, the album is out, innit?’

‘Yeah…’

‘Okay, well, Harry was going to be with Nick today so yeah, he must be doing press shit’

‘Of course, makes sense, thank you mate. I will explain later ’

‘Sure, use protection’

Louis rolled his eyes but didn’t deny the implications. The car came to life once again and he started driving to Harry’s house. The one they used to spend time in when they had some time between recording and touring. He didn’t even feel annoyed by the traffic, listening to the album all over again. Letting his body welcome Harry once again.

Of course, he still had his keys, drowned deep in the glovebox. He wasn’t going to enter the actual house, but it wouldn’t have been smart to stay outside on the street, someone could recognise him.

So once he parked in front of the building and noticed Harry wasn’t home, he closed his eyes and took a breath after what felt like hours. The next time he opened them there was a hand taping on his windows, he had fallen asleep.

It was a big hand adorned with rings and some nail polish. Louis knew what it felt to hold it more than he knew his own face. He took a deep breath and opened the door. Harry was waiting outside, a small smile making just one dimple appear. It was the first time they had seen each other in months but Louis felt like no time had passed. And if Louis was going to turn into an idiotic helpless cliche then it better be because of a boy as wonderful and beautiful as him. There was no one else. Harry was it.

‘I thought it was going to take you longer ’

‘To listen to the album or to get my shit together? ’

Harry seemed to consider his answer for a second, the dramatic little shit that he was. Then he smiled and Louis forgave him immediately.

‘Both’

Louis laughed and took a step closer to the love of his life.

‘I’m sorry, baby, I'm really sorry ’

‘Me too’

‘If you let me kiss you right now I’m never letting you go again. It's your choice’

‘Never wanted you to go in the first place’

‘Right answer’

And then they kissed because there wasn't much left to say. At least not right now. The conversation could wait for the next morning, once they had sex, pancakes and maybe a little dance in the kitchen. For old times sake.

----

Soooo, I wrote this because I couldn’t get the idea of Louis writing this song out of my head. And like, it sounds so much like Harry’s writing, this is not a theory at all. But I liked the idea so yeah. It’s probably gonna be my first and only fic about Larry, hope you like it.

All the mistakes are mine and its noy my first language, sorry if the grammar is trashy. Thanks.

#larry #larry stylinson #larry fic #larry fic rec #larry fanfic #fanfic #harry styles #louis tomlinson #canon compliant #but fiction #i don't think they broke up #and if they did is not my bussiness #just so you know

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