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#the red and black eye makeup so my absolute favorite look for frank
frnkiebby · 5 months
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UGH FRANK WITH THE RED AND BLACK EYE MAKEUP PLS~🎃
(and there’s that god forsaken scrub top again)
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veronicasanders · 2 years
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Favorite costume you've ever worn? What about the biggest costume fail?
Ahhhh I love this. Okay get ready, lol...
🌈🎤🥀📣☮️🧙🏽‍♀️👠🤠👽🐚🩸👐🌈
Favorites in no particular order…
Punky Brewster (5 years old, repeated again when I was like 33)
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Morticia Addams (8 years old)
Ursula the Sea Witch (grown-up - a group of friends and I all went as Disney villains and it was quite fucking epic)
Dorothy Gale (another adult group costume, co-starring Doctor Fluffernutter as Toto)
Slutty Witch (13 years old, group costume. Extremely fucking inappropriate but my mom let me trick-or-treat that way and I did collect a shit ton of candy, so…)
Cheerleader (6 years old. This is on the list because I told my feminist mother I wanted to be a cheerleader, and she was prepared to swallow her rage about it and let me do what I wanted. So she went, “Okay…what team do you want to cheer for?” And I was like “Team? Huh?” And that is when she realized to her delight that I had no idea cheerleaders were there to support athletes, I just liked the skirts. So she changed her question to “What color cheer costume do you want?” And I said, “Pink and Purple.” She sewed me an absolutely stunning pink and purple corduroy cheer skirt (and made pom-poms and a lovely top) that I continued to wear for like 3 years.) 
Sally Bowles, mid abortion (adult. It was basically a run-of-the-mill Liza as Sally costume with the vest and the bowler hat, etc, but then I smeared a bunch of blood on my thighs and dangled a plastic fetus purchased from a website called "Christian Dollar Store" from my hot pants by rubber bands. I also wore tap shoes and drove everyone nuts, lol)
Jessie from Toy Story (adult group costume. Doctor Fluffernutter was an Alien and I hand-made his costume.)
Rizzo in Grease (12 years old)
Frank N. Furter (adult)
Raggedy Ann Doll (4 year old)
A Millionaire (7 years old. I put this one together myself because I guess my mom was tired of my shit. I wore my grandma's fur coat, cowboy boots, a pleather skirt with a bathing suit top for some reason, a fancy hat, way too much makeup, a fuckload of costume jewelry, and carried a gold purse stuffed with money. I probably looked more like a pimp.)
Little Orphan Annie (adult. It was kind of a drag version of Annie)
Madonna (too many times. The first one when I was 7 years old, the whole Lucky Star look. Did this one the year MDNA came out:)
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 Rainbow Bright (adult)
Jesus from Godspell (adult - this is just bell bottoms, a superman t-shirt, rainbow suspenders, and face painting (a heart on the forehead, black tears from the eyes, and very classy red ribbons to represent the crucifixion) 
As far as fails…it’s really more about other people failing. Like the year we were supposed to be Spice Girls and the person who was Ginger flaked out, which made the person who was Posh also change their mind. (Although we did find someone dressed as Ginger at the party randomly and she joined the group photos. So it kind of worked in the end.)
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hlizr50 · 3 years
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Gwynriel Week Day 2 - Favorite Headcanon
Bow or Bleed
Read on AO3
-Gwyn-
Gwyn examined herself in the mirror, turning her hips and looking over her shoulder. She was technically covered, but also decidedly not, navy chiffon so dark it was nearly black waterfalled down her legs, the milky skin of her leg exposed by the hip-high opening. The top of the gown had long sleeves and a deep neckline past her breastbone, but it was also sheer – strategically placed beading and applique crept up her stomach and over her breasts. It was certainly the most scandalous thing she’d ever worn.
Azriel had warned her before the meeting with the High Lord, nearly three weeks before. Times were peaceful – something they were all thankful for – but Rhysand wanted to remind the denizens of the Hewn City of the Night Court’s might, introducing the new division of their defenses. Therefore, the three female leaders of the Valkyries were requested. Her mate had kept her hand firmly gripped in his for the duration of the discussion, and that silent support was just one of the many reasons she loved him. So was his deference to her decision. That was something that had been a little more difficult to achieve, the shadowsinger being as protective as he was, particularly where Gwyn was concerned.
They had discussed in depth what she would find in the Court of Nightmares and the expectations that came along with being in attendance in a position of power. And while, in the three years they had been together, they had explored any number of intimate situations and dynamics in the comfort of their private home, it was Azriel who had suggested that Gwyn be regarded as the dominant one of the two.
The inhabitants of the Hewn City know that I am to be feared. And I want them to see the woman who has tamed the infamous spymaster and cower. Not only from a perspective of your safety, but to be perfectly frank it would be incredibly arousing.
She had laughed at that.
And so Azriel and Gwyn had painstakingly discussed every detail, the two of them valuing preparedness and knowledge above all else. Where would they be expected to stand? How were they expected to interact with the rest of the inner circle and the Valkyries? He came with her to dress fittings, discussing how the fabric would move and working with the Valkyrie and the seamstress to ensure she looked tempting enough to draw attention, but covered enough that she wouldn’t be constantly pulling and tugging. They had even come home with a replica of the skirt so they could train together, for the unfortunate possibility that violence might become a necessity.
So here she was, with her chosen sisters, examining herself one last time before their entrance into the Court of Nightmares. When she looked up she found Nesta at her shoulder.
“Ready, Gwyn?” The redhead could see the faint glimmer of concern in her friend’s eyes.
A reassuring grin crinkled the freckles dotting the former priestess’ nose and the corners of her eyes. She trailed her fingers over the hilt of the dark blade sheathed at her thigh, drawing strength from its weight and the lingering power from the hands that wielded it. Gwyn nodded, the copper waterfall of her high ponytail brushing past her ears and cheeks.
“Let’s give them a show,” Emerie quipped with a smirk.
Gwyn regarded the two females that had been at her side, constant support and friendship and love over the past four years. Nesta was a queen in every sense, beautiful and dangerous, with a neckline that dipped even lower than her own. Her gown fit tight against her, black velvet rich and luxurious. She wore her weapon for everyone to see, the sword Ataraxia hanging from the black leather riding her hips. Her leg was also revealed by a near-indecent slit in the midnight cloth, the tightness of the dress pulling the ends apart and baring it for all to see.
And then there was Emerie, who had opted for pants, tailored just right to show off the strength in her legs. Black silk fell loosely from her honey brown shoulders creating lovely drapes over her front and baring her smooth muscled arms. The back of the garment only met at the small of her back, letting all appreciate the ripples and cords of muscle and the incredible wings that marked her as Illyrian.
Emerie smiled wryly, ready to intimidate, but it was Nesta who pushed open the wooden doors with as much force as she could muster. Gwyn was inwardly satisfied at the sound that cut through the cavern. She lifted her chin and fixed her gaze forward toward the raised dais, where the High Lord and Lady sat enthroned in dark power. She would not turn her gaze toward the shadowsinger as they strode in, footfalls synchronized as if they marched into battle. She kept her head lifted, near-arrogant smirk on her wine-painted lips.
But, Mother, could she feelhim. The flicker of power, the gold thread between them taut with heat and tightly coiled desire. Gwyn didn’t dare a glance, but she could feel the burn of his hazel gaze – likely now closer to molten gold – roaming over her.
The three Valkyries stopped at the foot of the dais, Nesta in front with Gwyn and Emerie at her shoulders. When they each fell to one knee before their High Lord and Lady, the copper-haired warrior could feel the cool, moist air prickling the skin of her now-exposed thigh. But she didn’t feel exposed, even with so much less of her covered than she was accustomed to. She didn’t feel weak, even as she bowed in the midst of this infamous court. She was a wholly different person from the quaking priestess that had been rescued from Sangravah, and it was this court that had helped build her up. She was a warrior, a Valkyrie, one of eight Carynthians to ever exist, and now she was a general. And through all that she had become a sister, friend, lover, and mate, and it was those bonds that truly gave her strength.
They rose and turned to face the court, and Gwyn did her best to observe nonchalantly. So many leering stares, expressions of disgust – so many fragile males opposed to the concept of powerful women.
“The Valkyries were legendary in the Great War, and we are pleased that these three females have resurrected their practice and built new ranks.” Rhysand’s voice was rich and dark, like the velvet that clung to Nesta’s skin. “As their skills have improved and their ranks have deepened, the Valkyries have been inducted as an official division of the Night Court defense. Even in times of peace we all know that it is imperative to remain dedicated and prepared. These three females join the ranks of my Inner Circle as generals, and they will be respected as such.” There was a pregnant pause after his statement, the court regarding the three of them, sizing them up. “Any word or action against them will be counted as a word or action against myself or the High Lady. And while all of the denizens of the Hewn City understand how I manage those slights, let them rest assured that these women will exact their own justice.” After one more glower over the crowd the females split apart, turning toward their respective mates.
That’s when she finally laid her eyes on the Spymaster of the Night Court, clothed in black leather and swathed in shadows. The angles and planes of his face, in this dark place, made him impossibly more beautiful. He was an imposing creature when he needed to be, and in the Court of Nightmares he would only be seen as this man of malice – an angel of death.
With near-glowing eyes fixed on her and her alone.
-Azriel-
This plan could have been a grave mistake.
Not because Gwyn wasn’t absolutely breathtaking and fearless, and not because he didn’t believe that any male would think twice before approaching her with the shadowsinger apparently on her leash.
No, this plan was very potentially a mistake because Azriel wasn’t sure he would be able to keep himself from swathing them in shadows and ravishing her in the middle of the damned great hall as soon as she was within arm’s reach.
He’d known what the dress would look like on her tall frame – he had accompanied her to consultations and fittings, ensuring that his mate would feel comfortable and safe during this foray into the sinister underbelly of the Night Court. The inspiration for Amarantha’s domain not-so-long ago.
To say that the idea of Gwyn stepping foot in this place had given him pause would be a grievous understatement. His shadows had twirled around his wings in agitation when Rhys had informed him, but he also knew that his mate was not the same girl he had rescued from Sangravah those years ago. He had agreed to let her hear the request and decide for herself what she would do, and he would be happy to do everything in his power to ensure that she was prepared.
The female that faced him now was nothing short of a queen.
Azriel found himself thinking back through the times that he had been rendered breathless by her astonishing beauty – more times than he could count. The first time he’d seen her in the Valkyrie leathers he thought he might have to leave the room, lest he melt into a heap on the floor before her. Their first Starfall together his shadows had frozen around him as he remembered how to breathe, her dress and eyes outsparkling the heavens. The evening of their mating ceremony, where a simple silk shift had sent tendrils of inky mist dancing and had nearly set his soul on fire.
Before him was a warrior, confident and ferocious. And his. Her skin was moonlight against the darkest blue the seamstress could find, curves barely concealed beneath lace and beading that had been expertly placed to toe the line between demure and deadly. Makeup was not something the former priestess indulged in often, but the wine-red that painted her full lips tempted him to lick his own and the kohl lining her teal pools only seemed to set them ablaze. The high ponytail was somewhat unexpected, but it was the sight of the blade strapped to her thigh – so dark it seemed to absorb any light that dared touch it – that had the breeches of his leathers tightening considerably and his twirling shadows thickening.
Truth-teller.
Neither of them needed weapons to be deadly, but that didn’t mean they would venture into the Court of Nightmares unarmed. And there would be no better way to send a message to any who dared covet his mate than for her to brandish the deadly blade that was known throughout the continent.
Gwyn strode toward him, head held high. She had schooled her expressive eyes into cool indifference, something she had likely learned from him, but Azriel could spy a glimmer of mischief. She was enjoying this game, and he was more than content to play it with her. He lowered his chin and dropped to one knee as she approached, and his shadows could hear the whispers of stunned onlookers as the spymaster placed himself firmly beneath the Valkyrie in the hierarchy. A wry grin curled his lips as he watched those exquisitely formed legs come to a halt before him and the hand at her right hip present itself. He kept his gaze fixed on the speckled flesh of her knuckles as he raised his own scarred hand, cobalt siphon flickering, and grasped her fingers before leaning in to reverently press his lips to her knuckles. He could feel the golden warmth of her satisfaction in his chest, sparks of desire intermixed.
When he released her hand it moved to his face, two long elegant fingers landing under his chin and pulling it upward. Lifting his gaze, he found her face alight with fierce confidence.
“Shadowsinger,” she purred, applying more pressure to encourage him to rise before her. Their stares were transfixed in the eyes of the other as he did so, her hand only moving far enough to land in a possessive grip toward the back of his neck. He couldn’t hide the smirk that crawled over his lips, enamored as he was with the predatory confidence that she wore.
“My lady,” he murmured, dipping his chin. “You look absolutely exquisite.” The slightest pink blossomed on her cheeks, proving that she was not completely immune to his charm. She circled him and stepped up behind him onto the first stair to the dais, keeping her palm on is neck. He had to stifle a groan, reveling in her possessive touch and the heat of her at his back between his wings. Her breath snaked across his ear and his skin pebbled, her lips like a phantom touch over the shell of it.
“You are beautiful and dark, as always, love,” Gwyn whispered before dipping her chin and pressing those soft painted lips just below where the sharp line of his jaw met his neck. His breath shuddered and his mate gave a soft giggle. “Your shadows are quite… friendly tonight.”
“Well, lovely general, I can hardly be expected to control them when you make it so difficult for me to even manage myself,” Azriel breathed.
“Hmmm. You do make an excellent point.” She gripped his jaw and pulled it to the side to claim his lips with a bruising kiss. When she released him he nearly drowned in the teal pools that captured his gaze. He could see the challenge there, the desire, the pride. He loved when he could glimpse those things in her expression, when he could put those feelings there. Gods, the way it felt to bow before her, to be the one she trusted to submit to her will. It was a distinct possibility he wouldn’t survive the night.
“I know you have duties, Shadowsinger,” the Valkyrie stated softly, dropping her fingers from his jaw. His permission to leave her side, to stride through the shadows and dark corners of this hall to ensure that members of this court still understood the price of disrespect and the power of fear. He turned, tucking his wings tight to avoid striking her. He meant to look back into those piercing, starlit eyes, but his gaze caught on Truth-teller at her thigh. He lifted a mottled hand and settled his palm over the hilt, letting his callused fingers brush delicately over that tempting sliver of porcelain flesh. Leaning down, he brushed his mouth over the peek of skin just above his thumb.
“Wine, my lady?” He straightened and grinned crookedly at her flushed neck and chest. She dipped her chin in confirmation and he turned, striding into the throng of revelers. Hopefully his High Lord didn’t expect him to listen too closely. It was peacetime, after all, and he had to contend with every delicious image of Gwyn flashing through his mind. Hopefully his shadows would pick up on anything glaring and drag his attention out of the gutter.
He had retrieved two goblets and turned back toward the dais when he felt a twinge of anxiety in his chest, tightening the golden thread that connected the Shadowsinger and the Valkyrie. He weaved quickly in and out of the dark swaths in the hall, his shadows carrying to him the echoes of words between her and a yet-unknown male.
“…quite an actress, priestess…”
Azriel quieted the snarl that threatened to push through his lips as he rounded a pillar silently, finding Gwyn’s back pressed against it and the male – one of the darkbringers, he realized – doing his best to tower over her. He stayed silent, tucked into the darkness. He had vowed not to intervene until it became obvious that she couldn’t handle the situation. And while he had felt the moment of uncertainty in their bond, his mate looked calm and nonchalant – if not a small bit annoyed.
“Although I find it difficult to believe that a timid acolyte from the library sanctuary could best the Spymaster. They say the women in the great library have experienced great horrors, but perhaps if you warm the bed of the angel of death, you’re into that kind of thing.”
The male had lifted a hand to Gwyn’s face, making to touch her. And quick as the wind she had Truth-teller in her hand, blade against a particularly sensitive part of the male who thought he could dare to insinuate what he did, much less dare to touch her. Azriel saw the rage sparkling in her gaze, all traces of anxiety and annoyance gone.
“Think very carefully about the next thing you say,” she hissed. When the male tried to smirk and play it off she pushed the blade the slightest bit deeper, the edge biting into the leather of his pants. “I am a general. I won the Illyrian Blood Rite. I have bested far more intimidating creatures than yourself. So do ask yourself if you want to test your luck.”
Azriel’s lips twisted into a sadistic smile, basking in the glow of his mate’s strength. Her eyes darted to him for a split second, and the male’s eyes followed. The color drained from his face when he saw the rippling shadows twisting and rising like flames over his shoulders and wings. But a push against the dagger at his crotch shifted his attention back to Gwyn.
“Hear me now, brute,” she seethed. “I do not always keep my Shadowsinger so tightly leashed. And he does not take kindly to unimpressive, brainless males touching the female that he belongs to.” My Shadowsinger. The female that he belongs to. Mother above, those words went straight to his already-straining cock. “So I hope that little thrill that pulsed through your undoubtedly underwhelming dick when you thought you could intimidate me and bend me to your desires… I do so hope it was worth it.”
The male stepped away with hands raised, but the copper-haired queen kept her blazing stare on him, dagger still ready in her hand.
“Shadowsinger, I hope you have that wine,” she cooed, sheathing the weapon when Azriel stepped to her side. He offered her the goblet and then offered her an arm, muscles and shadows tremoring from barely contained fury. His instincts warred within him, an urge to rip the male limb from limb against the desire to whisk his mate into an alcove and plunge his tongue between her legs until she was screaming his name. He wasn’t sure if he had ever desired her with such a feral male pride, and from the heat blooming across her chest he could tell that she could feel that pulsing need through their bond. But her breathing was slightly more shallow than normal, and he remembered that nervous twinge he’d felt before she’d nearly castrated the man. The spymaster let them to a darkened corner, shadows swallowing them and hiding them from prying eyes and ears.
“Are you alright, songbird?” All pretense and games were gone, leaving only the soft voice of a protective male concerned for the love of his eternity. He took her wine glass and set both of them on the stone floor. When he straightened he pinned her with his gaze and raised callused fingers to trace the freckles on her cheek. Gwyn sighed a calming breath and leaned into his touch.
“Yes, love. I was nervous for a moment, but I think I handled things quite well,” she smiled widely. He released a dark chuckle of his own, stepping into her and pinning her gently against the wall. Azriel tilted his head and leaned down, pressing his lips against the sensitive space under hear ear. Nipping at it, then flicking his tongue over the spot to soothe it, smiling against her soft flesh as he felt her gasp beneath him.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been more aroused in my life, Gwyneth Berdara,” he uttered into her neck, voice low and guttural. He pressed his hips against her, letting her feel what she had done to him. “When you called me yours, when you said I belong to you… Gods, nothing has ever been truer.”
Azriel dragged his lips wantonly over her jaw toward her mouth, nipping at her bottom lip when he got there. He was on fire for her, every inch of him aflame with want for his warrior queen. He crushed his lips into hers, tongue beseeching. She gave in without pause, and he greedily pulled at her lips and tongue. He wanted to breathe her in, needed to taste her.
“Azriel,” she gasped, but he continued pouring himself into her, only stopping when her hands cupped his face gently. He pulled back and took in her swollen lips and lust-darkened eyes. “We need to behave, remember?” The shadowsinger groaned, earning a musical laugh from the Valkyrie. He leaned his forehead against hers.
“Fine,” he growled. “But as soon as we get home, rest assured, I will have you. And I want you to keep Truth-teller on that pretty thigh.”
Gwyn’s cheeks turned crimson and his throat rumbled with approval. He pressed a quick, hard kiss into her lips before stepping back, giving her some air to cool the heat on her face. Swiftly, he scooped up their wine goblets and offered his elbow to her.
“Ready to terrorize more unsuspecting males, my lady?” Azriel grinned wickedly, and she threw her head back, a cackle erupting from her throat. She tucked her starkissed hand into the crook of his arm.
“Always, Shadowsinger.” Quickly, before he let his shadows disperse, she pressed a chaste kiss on his cheek. “I love you.”
The bond burned golden fire in his chest, swelling with love and contentment and bliss. “I love you, too, Berdara.” He murmured, and then they were in the throng again, the music and revelry of the Hewn City swallowing them. He let his shadows wander and listen, but his attention was focused on his mate for the remainder of the evening. He marveled at her confidence, her strength, the pride she felt at being able to conquer this moment. Feyre may be his High Lady, but Gwyneth Berdara was his queen. And, if tonight was any indication, he would gladly bow before her for the rest of his immortal life.
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rattyoakenbitch · 4 years
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youtubers: “don’t touch her” ₊˚ ⸝  corpse husband x reader
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❝i don't wanna think about, think about you. drink up, drink up i'm so fucked up, all i want is you.❞
gif credit: n/a song: lykke li - sex money feelings die
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
pairings: corpse husband x reader
warnings: angst, cursing, drinking, smoking, violent language, and minor mentions of anxiety.
summary: i can’t make summaries rn hhh just read it (:
“Sean, there is no way in hell I’m going!”
“Oh, come on, Y/N. It’ll be fun!”
“That’s what you always say!”
“Ugh, you and Corpse are so stubborn. At least I was able to convince him to show up! You know what you need? To get out of the house more often and come hang with us.”
“Uh huh, yeah, y’all have fun, I got some stuff to finish.”
“Yeah? Like what? Your ten hour nap?”
“HEY! Excuse me -”
“7PM, [club address], you’re showing up.”
“Sean - !”
With that, Sean hung up. You let out an exasperated huff, crossing your arms and pouting like a toddler who was just denied a toy. You were invited, or more accurrately forced to celebrate whatever the hell Sean and his friends achieved. With lives like theirs, it seemed like there was always something to celebrate. 
You, on the other hand.. Well, you were just little old you. You met Sean by mere chance. It’s a very long story, but you shared some things in common, like your love for video games. However, that was about the only thing you could relate to with Sean and his little friend circle. You were more passionate about writing, as well as reading short horror stories. 
Now, that’s where you clicked with Corpse Husband. 
He was an underrated YouTuber, whose main uploads were narration videos on creepypastas and horror stories. That’s until he blew up with his Among Us gameplays, collaborating with big names like PewDiePie, Jacksepticeye, and CrankGamePlays (EEF!!!).
You met over an Among Us stream with said YouTubers and immediately hit it off. You shared a dark sense of humor, love for horror, and music. You knew of Corpse before, but only then did you discover that he produced music, which you absolutely enjoyed (and blasted in your house for days on end).
When you found out you lived not even twenty minutes away from each other, you’d occasionally meet up, mostly at his house considering he only went out once in a blue moon. You’d sometimes even spend the night at his place, staying up late, gazing up at the stars, getting deep into conversation and opening up about things you never blurted out to people. But when you were with Corpse, everything just came naturally. You felt safe with him, and hopefully, he felt the same. 
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Night approached, the clock striking 5PM. You figured you’d get ready since Sean was dead set on you coming to the party. You showered, did a minimalist glossy makeup look, and chose an outfit, which consisted of a half neon green and black skirt that stopped mid thigh, and an oversized distressed band tee which you tucked into your belt. You slipped on a pair of ripped, striped thigh-highs with mismatched colors, (white stripes on one and neon blue on the other), and your platform boots that made you look like a Bratz Doll. You didn’t bother with your tangled hair. You teased it with a brush but didn’t put any effort into styling it, since it’d get messy anyways. To finish your look, you clipped on a choker and dangled a couple of layered chains around your neck.
Corpse would tease you, saying you had a “dog collar”, but you knew he secretly liked it.
All dolled up and ready to go, you hopped into your car and followed the GPS to the address Sean sent you. Drunk couples stumbled out of the club, dates headed inside, and old wasted guys were thrown out. Oh boy, you were not ready for this.
You were the anxious, anti social type. Not because it was edgy or cool, but you simply didn’t know how to handle social situations. However, it comforted you to know Corpse would be there by your side so you didn’t need to chat and flirt with strangers. 
It’s not like you wanted to meet anybody new, anyways. Though nobody was aware of it, you had feelings for Corpse. Cliche, right? You knew you shouldn’t have, but you developed feelings for him. It made you feel strange and weird, considering you haven’t caught feelings in a while.
You came up with the bright idea of slowly drifting away from Corpse to maybe help de-escalate these feelings, but you were going to run into him at the club, so what the heck.
You headed inside, your eyes scanning the crowd and pushing through, searching for your friend group. You spent a couple minutes cluelessly looking around the club, but to no avail. Then, it was as if a light bulb clicked on over your head; you never thought to phone Sean.
“Ugh, I’m so stupid.” You reached into your purse to get ahold of your phone when a pair of strong, manly hands and cold metal which you assumed to be rings wrapped around your shoulders, gripping you tightly. 
“Boo!” 
You felt your heart stop and ran out of the man’s grasp, spinning around to look at who it was.
“Oh, did I scare you?” 
The man’s deep, monotone voice rumbled above the sound of the music and shouts. Then you recognized that unique and distinctive voice. 
“Corpse!! What the hell?”
His nose and jaw was covered by a black mask, with a print that looked like Frank from Donnie Darko, which was also Corpse’s signature look, seen in his channel art. 
Despite Corpse being a faceless YouTuber, only very few people have seen his face, including you and Glam&Gore who he featured in his narration videos. You thought he was very handsome, his baritone voice matching his appearance. You had to admit, you were a little disappointed he chose to wear a mask. You loved seeing his facial expressions, especially his precious smile that would light up the room when he’d let out little fits of laughter. But you got over it and respected the fact that he wanted to remain anonymous.
“You dickhead,” you scoffed, smacking Corpse lightly on the shoulder. Corpse towered over you, looking admittedly both intimidating and seductive. If you were a stranger, you’d probably be running off, but you weren’t scared of Corpse. He was a big softie and a teddy bear.
Corpse chuckled lowly, slinging his arm over your shoulder and leading you to Sean’s group. He was protective like that, even if you were just friends. Now you could see why Sean, at one point, speculated that you and Corpse had a thing going on. 
“So, Sean forced you to tag along, too?”
“Pfft, yeah, that’s Sean for you.”
“Hey, there’s my favorite couple,” Sean joked, patting your shoulder. You rolled your eyes at his drunk antics.
“Shut up, don’t make me choke you like I hate you,” you mocked in return, eliciting a fit of laughter from the group. 
“Remind me to never hang out with you losers again,” Corpse mumbled sarcastically under his breath.
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The night went by in a flash. Sean, Thomas, Felix, and everyone else was blackout drunk. Luckily, Mark was there to assist them. Since Mark couldn’t drink, he would be the designated driver that night. Corpse hung out by himself, sometimes getting approached by women who he politely turned down.
You, on the other hand, were downing alcohol like your life depended on it. For you, it would take more than the average number of drinks for you to get wasted.
“Y/N, don’t you think you should slow down?” Corpse questioned cautiously, resting a hand on the small of your back.
“Does it really look like I’m thinking right now?” you drunkenly slurred, following with a giggle. You waved to the bartender, calling for another shot, which he slid over to you, but not without hesitating after noticing your state. You pushed Corpse off of you, probably more harshly than you intended, and took the shot. 
“Okay, Y/N, fuck this, I’m taking you to my place. We can’t stay here and you certainly can’t drive back home when you’re drunk,” Corpse scowled, stepping closer to you. Again, you shoved him back.
“No.. No..” You sighed, holding your pounding head in your hand. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what? Y/N, you’re drunk -”
“I’m not letting you of all people take me.”
Corpse blinked. “What does that mean?” He knew you were drunk, of course, and you were probably just blurting nonsense.
All of a sudden, tears escaped your eyes, racing down your blushy cheeks.
“No.. I’m so sorry. It’s my fault.” You began to shake and tremble as tears started to uncontrollably spill down your face. Corpse didn’t waste another second to take you in his arms, hushing you. “Your hugs are so warm.. I hate it. I hate feeling this way. It’s all my fault.”
“What did you do, sweetheart? You can tell me.”
Your heart ached when you heard his pet name for you.
“I think I may like you more than you like me.. I-I didn’t mean to! Please don’t leave me. You’re all I have,” you sobbed into his white tee, clinging onto him. “I love you so fucking much, it hurts. I shouldn’t have!”
Corpse stopped for a moment, processing your words.
You.. felt the same?
Corpse had to tell you. You were drunk, but he needed you to know. 
“Y/N, I -”
Suddenly, you had a moment of clarity. Realizing how close you were to Corpse, you backed away, wiping away the mascara tears under your eyes.
“I - I think I had too much to drink.. I just need a smoke..” 
Without giving Corpse the chance to protest, you ran off into the crowd, struggling your way through. 
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Corpse began to get worried when you didn’t come back. He waited impatiently on the barstool where you left him, anxiously playing with his rings.
He was just about to get up and look for you, when he caught a glimpse of you stumbling out the exit with another man who guided you, gripping your arm tightly.
Corpse fumed, his face going red and heartbeat speeding up. He went after you, knowing damn well you didn’t know this man. 
The man took you to his car, placing you atop the trunk, your legs dangling over the edge. He stepped in between your legs, caressing your face. Everything was a blur. If your mind was clear, you wouldn’t be stupid enough to trust this random guy, who was probably ten years older than you. 
“You’re too pretty to be crying,” he whispered, leaning in closer to your face, until a yell stopped him from proceeding any further.
“Hey, asshole, she’s drunk! Don’t you fucking touch her!”
“C-Corpse?” You hiccuped, hopping off the trunk to get a look at the approaching figure. It was indeed Corpse. His eyebrows were pressed together angrily at the sight.
“You know this dude?” the man said loudly and smugly, just to get a reaction from Corpse. “Relax, my man, I’m just tryna take this pretty girl home.”
“Well this pretty girl happens to be mine, and I won’t let you take advantage of her,” Corpse growled. 
You stood by the stranger, clinging to him as you watched Corpse’s face twist into an expression of heartbreak when you didn’t budge. He then noticed the bruises around your arms and wrist, supposedly from the man’s strong grip. He was unbelievably furious. 
“Ha, doesn’t look like she’s your girl anymore.” The man’s lips twisted upwards into a devilish smirk, only pissing Corpse off some more. Oh boy, was he ready to snap. He reached into his pocket, when..
“Wait,” you managed to slur out, breaking up the argument. You reached out towards Corpse like a child. His facial expression immediately softened. He gave you a loving smile and immediately took you into his arms, holding you protectively. 
“Now, I suggest you get in your car and never come back,” Corpse threatened.
“Oh, yeah? Or what? I’ll kill you and take your girl, you motherfucker!”
Without hesitation, Corpse took out his switchblade, looking the man in his eyes.
“Say that again?”
You watched as the stranger’s whole tough act fell apart. Without another word, he ran to the driver’s side of his car, fumbling with his keys. 
“Yeah, that’s right,” Corpse mumbled, not taking his eyes off the man until he reached his own car. You held his hand the whole way, processing what had just happened. Corpse noticed your distant expression. You got into his car, shutting the door and slumping back into your seat. He tore off his mask, taking in deep breaths to calm himself. Then he looked back to you. 
“Princess?”
You looked to Corpse, your eyes teary. “Hey, Corpse.” You didn’t seem to be as drunk, your mind a lot clearer after the incident. “D-Did you mean anything you said back there? About the..”
“About you being my girl?” 
Corpse took your hand in his, squeezing it comfortingly. He leaned forward and cupped your face with his free hand. “Absolutely.” 
With that, you leaned towards him, hesitantly pressing your lips to his. Your lips tasted of alcohol, but Corpse didn’t care. He was admittedly taken back, his breath hitching, but he released the tension from his body and kissed you back, pulling you over to the driver’s seat atop him. There wasn’t much space, forcing you to press closer to Corpse, deepening the kiss. 
Still being a bit drunk, you were clumsy and kind of ‘out of it’. 
“I’d hold onto something if I were you,” Corpse mumbled, breaking the kiss momentarily to guide your hands to grip his shoulders. But you were impatient and reconnected your lips with his, no doubt causing him to blush even more than he already was.
You couldn’t help yourself and giggled into the kiss, causing Corpse to chuckle along with you, departing from the kiss again and resting his forehead against yours.
“I’m sorry, you’re just so fucking adorable when you giggle.” 
You hummed in response, offering Corpse an innocent grin as you pecked all over his face. 
“I’m so glad you’re mine.”
859 notes · View notes
candychronicles · 3 years
Text
elysian // s. daichi
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A/N: my take on the Haikyuu Headquarters mythology nsfw collab! this was my first time writing for Daichi. i took a greek myth route and had so much fun!!
CHARACTER PAIRING: Daichi Sawamura x F!reader
WORD COUNT: 2,859
WARNINGS: manipulation, oral (F!receiving), mentions of several religions
SYNOPSIS: all your life you had been fighting only to end up at a boring 9-5 with nowhere to turn. Daichi has a proposition and you accept without realizing the consequences. 
Want to read more myths and legends? Click here! 
you were always fascinated with the idea of something larger than you, something so fantastical and great that it consumed the earth over and over again. while many people turned to other religions or no religion at all, satiating their own desires for redemption, love and acceptance, you chose to dig deeper, look at what truly resonated with your life and dutifully settled upon the greek gods. 
they didn’t sugarcoat the bad things they did, that they used their power any way they pleased, that they were stronger, faster and larger than life. they were powerful gods who held powerful positions and were unpredictable, wild and fluid in their dance with humanity. you admired the stories from years ago of how they defeated the titans and split the land between the three sons: the skies for Zeus, the seas for Poseidon and the underworld for Hades. 
Hades had always spoken to you in a way you couldn’t describe. when you worshipped him needing guidance, offering him dark chocolate and sweet, rich red wines, he complied with very little hesitation, always wanting to seemingly please you as long as you kept up your worshipping of him. he became quite moody, jealous and wouldn’t want to talk to you for days if you spent too much time interacting with the other gods. to be frank, you loved the attention he showered you with and felt at ease knowing he would protect you for life.
sighing, you pulled your apron tight around your waist, ready for another day at work slinging coffees and cakes to the less than pleasant customers that walked through the door. being a barista seemed like fun in cliche stories and movies but it was actually just another job that got you through your boring summer. 
it only took an hour before people began screaming and shouting, angry at your lack of speed and pleasant smile on your face. it was just you and two other people there serving a line of ten plus at any given time and while you all tried your best, things never seemed to go the way they were planned.
“one large coffee, black.”
you took a deep breath before plastering a smile on your face, giving the man with the honey sweet voice a price and looking up, the smile threatening to spill onto your cheeks as you recognized Daichi, one of your favorite customers and now good friends.
“thought you might need one friendly face among the crowd of crazy,” he joked, tapping his sleek black credit card against the machine to pay, making sure to leave a hefty tip before nodding and walking away.
he sat for another two hours in the shop, nursing on his coffee and working on his laptop as he waited for you to get a break. when the line finally died down, your rushed from behind the counter and plopped yourself down in the booth across from him.
“what brings your handsome face around here?” you asked, tapping your feet against the ground as the anxiety of the day began to wear off.
“coming to see you as always,” he replied smoothly, downing the last of his coffee before placing the cup back on the table.
“you haven’t been around for awhile,” you pouted, not caring that you sounded desperate.
“i’m sorry but you know work can get oddly busy at times. how about i make it up to you? dinner, tonight at seven? my treat, anywhere you want to go.”
you gaped at him, not sure of what to say. you two had been flirting for months, the only friendly face you had really seen outside of the occasional older lady who always bought you a snack or drink for being so kind and patient with them. he was always sweet as candy, sugary words viscously flowing out of his mouth. at first you thought he was just some tightwad business man looking to get into your pants but as you got to know him, you realized he was just naturally kind, always looking out for the underdog. he treated you with the respect and decency that you deserved and maybe you were just so used to being treated like shit most of the time but his upfront and honest nature just blew you away.
before you had a chance to even reply, he looked at his phone, frowned and stood up.
“i’ll see you at seven, text me your address, yeah?”
with that and a gentle caress of your chin, he practically dissolved into thin air. you blinked once, twice, three times trying to process what had just happened before digging into your pocket to text him your address, not even remembering giving him your number but sure enough, there he sat in your contact with a simple flower next to his name.
the rest of the day went by in a blur and before you knew it, you were sitting on your couch, donned in your best dress, sparkling earrings dangling from your ears and shiny jewels adorning your body. you frowned as you checked the time, noticing it was already ten past seven. just as you were about to give up, you received a text from Daichi.
i’m sorry princess. something big came up at work. i’ll make it up to you. first thing in the morning, dress for the outdoors and bring a jacket, it’ll be a bit chilly where we’re going. i’ll see you then.
you huffed, throwing your phone down on the couch before stuffing your face in your hands, trying not to cry. you began methodically undressing yourself, taking off all your accessories and makeup, barely listening to the TV in the back drone on about some factory explosion that had happened in the next town over, killing two hundred people practically at once. you stopped to share some of the jewels with Hades, lighting his black flame and watching it dance in excitement, thanking him for never leaving you, even in the harshest of times. with all the makeup off, the dress peeled from your body and your shiny jewels laid on the table, you collapsed in bed, too tired and confused to dress yourself again.
a knock on the door had you scrambling off of your bed, hurrying to find a robe before peeking through the peephole to see who woke you up at such an early time on your rare day off. your eyes widened in surprise before squeaking, peeling the door open just a pinch to greet Daichi who held a rather large bouquet of flowers in his hand, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck and squinting his eyes as he held the petals out towards you.
“Daichi, i-”
“i’m real sorry about last night. crazy last minute meeting, totally unexpected. i promised i’d make it up to you though, right?”
you opened the door to him at that, blushing when you realized you were only in your robe before practically sprinting to your bedroom to begin getting ready. when you were ready, jacket in hand, you walked back out, a sheepish smile on your face.
“i uh, really didn’t think you would be here in the morning. thought you were just trying to lead me on or something,” you confessed.
“now doll, i think you know me better than that by now,” he chastised, standing up from your couch to offer you his arm.
you took it instantly, a bounce in your step as you followed him out of your apartment, listening to the door close with a resounding thud. 
it took only a few minutes before you were sat in his sleek black car practically oozing with the feeling of money. you gingerly sat down in the leather seats, instantly feeling drowsy. shaking your head, you tried to fight it off but was stopped by Daichi.
“it’ll be a little bit of a drive before we get to where we’re going. you can take a nap, it’s okay. i’m a safe driver. i promise i won’t let anything bad happen to you.”
with his soothing words, you drifted off into a peaceful sleep, allowing yourself to be completely relaxed in his presence.
a small jerk woke you up and you blinked, looking out the window to see fields and fields of picture perfect flowers. you were practically surrounded by them, the only clearing being the dirt road you came on and patch of grass leading up to a hill.
“Daichi…” you breathed, speechless by the beauty of the location.
“c’mon, lets eat.”
you practically scurried out of the car, eyes wide as you continued to scan your surroundings. he dutifully began taking the picnic out of the car, setting down the blanket, basket, food and drink in a tasteful and elegant way. you absolutely melted seeing all the delicious food that was laid out for you. before you had a chance to eat, however, Daichi grabbed you by the waist, pulling you into his arms and looking you in the eyes.
“y’know, i’ve been absolutely fascinated with you since the first day i met you, all doe-eyed and innocent. the world has knocked you down so many times and yet you still get back up to fight another day. tell me, if i offered you a life of luxury, of eternal peace, full of love and richness, never having to work a day in your life if you didn’t want to, would you take it?”
you were taken aback by his words, not understanding where they were coming from. sure, you two had spent so much time chatting at your coffee shop, sharing your hopes and dreams with him, confiding in him like you would no one else, but you didn’t realize he had taken it all to heart, that he had actually fallen in love with you like you him. you didn’t even realize in that moment that you had even really loved him until he said those words, looked deep into your soul like he knew everything about you and then some.
“i mean, if you’re offering, yeah, i think i’d like a life like that, but maybe once i got to know you first,” you only half joked, wanting to know more about him, a sucker for an idyllic life.
“just say yes and you can spend all the time in the world getting to know me.”
“yes, Daichi, i would take it in a heartbeat.”
he surged forward with that, lips attaching to your own with such ferocity that you weren’t even sure what to do. he tasted like rich chocolate, wine and coffee, a delicious medley on your tongue as you reacted on instinct alone. something about this, with him, felt so right. your head was muddled with thoughts of Daichi and only Daichi, a man who was so mysterious and yet so supportive, always there when you needed him, seemingly popping up out of the blue on your worst days. listening to your problems with a frown on his face, doing everything he possibly could to make you feel better, never overstepping his boundaries and cherishing the time you spent together like there was no tomorrow.
he whispered sweet nothings in your ear as he took you to the ground, flowers crunching around your body as he laid on top of you, nipping and sucking at the delicate skin of your neck, relishing in the way you went breathless just from his lips alone.
“tell me that you want me, that you need me, that you worship me, that i’m the only man you’ll ever need,” he commanded, popping the buttons open on your shirt and ravishing your chest, tweaking your bare nipples in his hands, the cold shocking you to the core.
“you’re all i’ll ever need, Daichi,” you confirmed, too consumed in your own pleasure, wanting to feel more and more of him until he was all you could think of.
“let me take care of you princess.”
with that, he delicately pulled your shirt off, your pants coming down next, your underwear not receiving such a kind fate as they were cruelly ripped off your body. you gasped as you felt his hot breath on your thigh, squirming underneath his touch, the way his tongue danced along your inner thigh, flesh sinking in between his teeth. you whined at the way his cold fingers ghosted over your clit, just barely there but enough to make you go crazy.
“Daichi, please, i need you, please.”
he complied without resistance, his tongue darting out to kitten lick your clit, relishing in the way you instantly melted underneath his touch. you were absolutely enraptured with the way he felt against your body, the cool of his hand tracing seemingly meaningless patterns against your silky inner thigh, his other sinking into your heat, enveloping his digits with warmth, something he rarely felt, his tongue licking and sucking on your bud like your life depended on it. it was all too much, the feeling of him on top of you, doting on you like you were everything to him and you came suddenly, pulsating around his fingers, your own carded in his hair to ground yourself, tears leaking out of your eyes at the sheer feeling of him, only him.
he slowly calmed you down from your high, eyes never leaving his body as his fingers gently continued to pump in and out of you, his other hand continuing to soothe your body, kisses placed anywhere he could reach. when you were finally calm, he removed his fingers, still cold despite the warmth the received, and licked them clean, watching as your eyes rolled in the back of your head at the sight of him worshipping you.
“let’s get you cleaned up and get some food in you, yeah?”
he spent the next few minutes gently wiping you off, dressing you back in most of your clothes sans the underwear he destroyed, a sheepish and apologetic smile on his face as he promised to buy you a new pair, no matter the price. you shrugged your jacket on over your shoulders, finally noticing how cold it was, a chill running straight to your core as you tightened clothing around you.
after a few moments of catching your breath, you stood up with the help of Daichi, walking over to the picnic and sitting down, mouth drooling at the sight of food, suddenly ravenous.
“were you really serious about saying yes, about being mine forever?”
“like i said Daichi, i do want to get to know you better, but i can’t deny i’m not falling in love with you. something about you feels familiar, like you’ve been with me my whole life, like you know me better than i know myself. i feel so comfortable and safe around you. so yes, call me a dumb romantic, but i was serious about that.”
with a satisfied nod, he began feeding you, watching you closely as you swallowed food after food, a delighted smile on your face. you felt stronger, more relaxed, less cold and certainly happier eating and drinking, taking the time to really talk to Daichi, learn about him, his thoughts and feelings, some of his tragic past and your heart hurt more and more as you listened to him.
when all was said and done, you stood up, wiping the crumbs off your body as looked at Daichi, a smile plastered on your face.
“when are you taking me home?” you questioned, looking around the field to see if you could spot anything else to do.
“well, my dear, whenever you’re ready, i’ll show you your new home right away. after all, what kind of king would i be if i didn’t let my queen see her palace right away?”
“what?” you questioned, looking at him quizzically. 
when he stood up, you noticed the whole mood had shifted and so did the world. the flowers, as bright and beautiful as they were, were no longer illuminated by a brilliant sun but rather a striking moon, darkness encircling your very body. you felt cold and yet not cold at all, like it was a very part of your being. Daichi seemed to stand immortally tall before you, an air of authority that was not there before. beautiful houses scattered the flowerbeds, people milling about, people from stories you had read to soothe yourself to sleep as you dreamt of one day being a hero of your own.
“Daichi, what is going on?” you asked, frightened and confused.
“well, doll, i did ask you several times to make sure but i knew in my heart that you would come to accept and eventually love this life as i have,” he started, gesturing for you to turn around to look out behind you, a whole world opening up in front of your eyes, “this is the underworld, i am Hades, you’re currently in the Elysian Fields, now that you ate the food down here, you are an immortal part of me and this, my queen, is your new home.” 
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calumxkisses · 4 years
Text
Take My Breath Away | c.h.
pairing: calum hood x reader
genre: angst
summary: it’s Crystal and Michael wedding, a day of happiness, but your heart is breaking.
a/n: hello everyone! I’m back after months with a new imagine. as always, let me know what you think about it, I hope you’ll like it!
song for this part: take my breath away
♡♡♡
You were in the bathroom splashing your face with water, but carefully trying not to mess up the makeup you spended so much time working on. Your mascara was slightly smudged under your eyes, but you removed it effortlessly, still remembering the sweet vows that Michael and Crystal exchanged just an hour ago that made you cry like a baby.
The ceremony was as beautiful as them, their love showed in all the little details: from the decorations, created with red and white flowers - embellished with wildflowers, to simply the way they looked at each other.
You were honored to be one of Crystal’s bridesmaids, it filled your heart to see them getting married in front of your eyes, the same pair of eyes that noticed them exchanging their first ‘Hi’  four years ago.
You fixed your dress - a rose gold V-neck dress - and stepped outside the bathroom, ready to dream with the bride and groom's first dance.
“Hey, here you are! I was looking for you!” The sudden voice made you jump but a small smile appeared on your lips. You took a moment to look at him completely, without the haste of having to be ready in time: his curly black hair was messy but still incredibly perfect, his black tuxedo was carefully buttoned but his necktie was missing, letting the white shirt show completely.
Calum looked perfect, nothing new then his normal self, but something about him wearing a tuxedo during a wedding, was different.
“Your necktie is missing, you’re already having fun?” You said smiling but your heart ached a little.
“It was just uncomfortable, I told Mike I’d have removed it as soon as the ceremony was ended. But I’m planning to have a lot of fun later.” He grinned and winked at you.
You slapped him on his arm and he laughed, making your heart skip a beat.
“You look really beautiful today, I’m pretty sure you own this color. You were the prettiest there - probably more pretty than Crystal, Sierra and Kay, but don’t tell them or they’re going to kick me out of the band.” He laughed but your cheeks started to become as red as the rose in your hairstyle.
You changed the subject, hoping to relieve the color from your face. “Thank you, but they’ll probably kick you out because of the embarrassing things you said during your Best Man speech. That was a lot, Calum, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Michael wanting to kill you as much as he did before.”
“He deserved it! He ruined my favorite T-shirt, he had to pay and you know that!” He said pretending to be offended, but a huge grin on his face showed otherwise.
“Absolutely! I just thought that you wanted to-”
“What are you guys doing here? You’re gonna miss Crystal and Michael’s first dance!” Mitch said breathing heavily, a sign that he had been looking for you for a while.
“We gotta go, then! C’mon or we are gonna miss it and we don’t want that, right?” Calum said smiling and putting a hand on your back, making sure that you follow Mitch.
His touch sended goosebumps all over your body and your heart started to beat faster. You were used to be with him and to feel his body touch yours, after been friends for years, it was natural to fall asleep on each other's shoulder, to touch hands while in a crowd or to hug after a party.
Calum was now part of your routine. He was ready to laugh at your jokes even before you started telling them, to hold your hair while you threw up your bad decisions in a toilet, and to took care of you when the world seemed to release its weight on your shoulders.
Hood was the kind of person who lights up a room every time he entered it, who had the strength to get up every time he fell to his knees, who hummed Frank Ocean songs while making popcorn or who let you into his world  when everything seemed to go wrong, because he was ready to share his demons with you.
Calum Hood was the only one capable of taking your breath away just looking at you. But he didn’t know that and you weren’t sure that he’d never know.
“I might ruin everything!” You once cried at Crystal while she was to the other side of the phone, ready to help you out during your umpteenth love breakdown.
“..Or he also might have feelings for you and you'd end up getting together, even better married! We could do a double wedding!” She said, trying to cheer you up a little.
“Yeah, no, that’s not going to happen. I’d steal the show and It wouldn’t be right for you.”
Crystal and Michael were the most beautiful bride and groom you have ever seen. The way they looked at each other, touched each other and even the way they got lost in their world to the tune of one of the most loving songs on earth, every single aspect of their life together was a symbol of the strong love that they had.
Crystal's eyes were filled with tears and Michael was ready to wipe them away one by one for the rest of his life.
The smile on their lips was enough to understand why marriage is identified as "the most beautiful day of a couple's life" and the look they gave to each other was filled with passion and feeling, a love that blossomed almost by chance, but which was meant for life.
Immersed in a moment so happy and full of love, you turned to look at Calum, only a few centimeters away from you, and you saw him give the same gaze that Michael was turning to his bride, full of love and passion, to the girl to his right.
When Calum first told you that he had met a girl, you didn't pay much attention to it.
He was handsome, tall, but above all, he was the drummer in one of the most emerging bands of the moment and it was normal for him to meet new people.
When he first introduced her to you, the first thing you noticed was the way he looked at her. She was beautiful, sure, and surely the pimple on your face made you feel even more inferior to her, but the way Calum stared at her was what made you feel pain.
It seemed as if he had never seen a more beautiful girl, it was his most precious gift and the fact that he was introducing her to you meant that his intentions were serious.
When he confessed to you that he had feelings her, you thought you felt your heart break. You were ready to rush to the emergency room because you were sure you were dying of a broken heart. Calum hadn't talked about love - not like this, at least - for years, despite all the times you tried to convince him that love is beautiful, that sharing, passion, joy and pain with someone else was worth it. And now he was convinced, to the point of saying "I love you" to someone - but not to you. It wasn't you who convinced him otherwise, it wasn't you who showed him the beauty of life and hold him in bed. There was someone else and you weren't sure it was worth it anymore.
And she was there, next to him, her hands holding his, her eyes returning his gaze.
“Hey, we are gonna go dance, will you be okay?” He asked with such a sweet innocent smile.
You swallowed your tears and nodded at him. “Yeah, just go dance, loser. I’ll wait here.” A fake smile plastered on your face.
There he was, beautiful as ever. The soft lights reflected his breathtaking brown eyes making them look more glossier than usual while his hands were on her hips. They were laughing and smiling at each other, him kissing her hand.
Slow dancing in the middle of the room, and slowly breaking your heart, you faked your best smile and waved at them, watching them fall in love.
“I love you.” He whispered, but it wasn’t in your ear.
Slowly breaking apart, you looked at him one last time before leaving the room.
...
273 notes · View notes
cuquitalocita · 4 years
Text
a secret valentine- percabeth
AN: hi! yes, hello, i haven’t written in a HOT MINUTE but today i put on a timer for half an hour and forced myself to write so here are the results! happy valentine’s day everyone and i hope you enjoy this little bit of percabeth fluff! also! a shoutout to the people who are also single but more importantly shout out to my favorite human being in the ENTIRE WORLD @alaenawrites​ i HIGHLY?? recommend following her?? thanks for beta reading it and... yeah... i love you so please enjoy!
Part Two
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~~
“Gods, isn’t that enough?” Annabeth shot a venomous look at the boy next to her who now held a massive pile of books for her. She had just stacked on another one and he glared at it in disgust as Annabeth ran her fingers along the spines of the remaining books on the shelf.
“If you have an issue Jackson, feel free to leave,” she snapped, knowing he wouldn’t because of their group of friends who were wandering around them through the book store. Jason had convinced Percy to hold her books for her as she shopped, saying something about getting on her good side and Annabeth had merely snorted, muttering something about the chances of that happening. It had been an hour of annoying comments and him following her around the store while Annabeth picked specifically heavier books to shove into his arms one by one.
“A man can dream,” he muttered and Annabeth rolled her eyes as Piper watched them. Piper opened her mouth to say something when both her and Percy looked up at her, their matching glares directed for each other but instead being projected onto their innocent immediately had her snapping her mouth shut.
“You know what? Never mind. Jase!” she called to her boyfriend who was sitting in one of the comfortable looking chairs at the front of the store. He pushed his glasses back up his well shaped nose as he looked up at his girlfriend, a charming smile beginning to bloom on his face. He stood up and Annabeth swore his massive frame cast a shadow over her books. 
“Ready to go ladies?” he asked and the girls nodded, heading over to the register, Percy trailing behind them. 
“Got enough books Chase? Or have you not gone broke just yet?” Annabeth stiffened and rolled her eyes although he couldn’t see her and spun around with a glare, gray eyes flashing. He padded up next to her and dropped her books unceremoniously onto the counter for her to pay.  
“Got enough brain cells Jackson? Or have you wasted too many of them making stupid comments?” Percy Jackson only smirked back at her, a cold thing unlike what he gave most of their other friends. She hated admitting how attractive he was. Percy was easily handsome, with pretty golden skin and disheveled black hair. He opened his mouth, clearly ready to snap something back at her when another voice interrupted them.
“Chicos, chicos!” Leo came up behind Annabeth, throwing his arm around her shoulders with an easy grin. “Let’s not fight guys! It is almost Valentine’s day after all.” Annabeth resisted rolling her eyes at the mention of the ridiculous holiday and turned back to the register, ignoring the burning gaze of the blue-green eyes she knew were following her every move. 
“Speaking of,” Percy said, clearly no longer addressing her. “I better head back home. We’re finishing moving Mom’s stuff out of the apartment by tomorrow.” 
The group smiled at the mention of Sally Blofis, the newly married mother of their group and even Annabeth couldn’t hold back a twinge of her lips. She absolutely adored the woman. Annabeth guessed her adorable four year old daughter didn’t hurt either. Her son was a different story. 
“See you tomorrow though?” he asked to the group. Piper snorted.
“Nice try, Percy,” she laughed. “But tomorrow’s Valentine’s day so I’ll be stealing your boyfriend for the entire day.” Annabeth turned around in time for Percy to fake a pout and ignored what it made the butterflies in her stomach do. “So he’s off limits.” 
“I’ll be your valentine, Jackson. As long as you’re okay buying the chocolate,” Leo called over from where he was leaning on Annabeth. Percy rolled his eyes.
“Please. The only person stupid enough to be your valentine is you.” Annabeth laughed a little and Leo frowned, pushing himself off of her.
“I wouldn’t be laughing if I were you, Beth. Last I checked, you’re flying solo too.” Annabeth rolled her eyes and smacked Leo over the back of his head with a book.
“See if you can find where I care, Valdez,” she snapped back.
Piper snickered from across from them. “You and Percy should be valentine’s Annabeth, since you’re both single anyway.” If Annabeth had been drinking water, she would have spit it out all over her friends in shock. Piper could clearly tell and was doubled over laughing, clutching at her stomach where Jason held her by the waist, rolling his eyes fondly. 
“As if,” Percy cut her off from responding with a roll of his eyes. “She couldn’t take her nose out of a book long enough to give me the time of day.”
“And he couldn’t get his head out of his ass long enough to listen to a thing I say,” Annabeth added on, shooting the boy a glare that he gladly returned. 
“Don’t flatter yourself into thinking you’d say anything worth listening to Chase,” he sneered and Annabeth shoved one of her books back into her bag. 
“Don’t you have some movers to go annoy? I’m sure they’d appreciate your company much more than we do,” Annabeth snapped back. They held fiery eye contact for the next couple of seconds before Leo cleared his throat awkwardly. 
“On that note,” he laughed nervously. “We should probably go meet Frank and Hazel at the cafe.” Percy muttered something about no longer wanting to be in a room with ‘that know-it-all blonde’ and exited the book store, not looking back. 
Annabeth glared at her boots as Piper came to stand next to her.
“You could try to get along with him you know. It’s been years of this, and it’s seriously starting to get bad.” Annabeth straightened her shoulders and looked her friend in the face, her eyes blazing with determination. 
“The day I get along with Percy Jackson is the day I die.”
~~
Annabeth had just finished pinning her hair up with the owl pendant she had been gifted for her birthday last year when she heard a knock at her door. The cheap apartment she had rented for her stay during college was sketchy to say the least, and she could hear the knock all the way from her room. She didn’t know who would be coming to her house on Valentine’s day. Wasn’t everyone with their person? Glancing at the bathroom light that was still on she walked to the living room, smoothing her hands over her white jeans as she walked. 
She swung the door open to see none other than her best friend, flowers and pints of ice cream in tow.
“Piper?” Annabeth asked incredulity. “What are you doing here?” Piper rolled her eyes and let herself in.
“Please, Annabeth. You’re much too smart not to know what I’m doing here.” She stopped at her couch and sat down, her eyed twinkling with mischief. “Jason and I decided that we could push our dinner back to next week, considering he’s busy studying for midterms right now anyway, and you said you were gonna be alone this Valentine’s day, so I figured we’d make it Galentine’s day.” 
She smiled and something inside of her warmed at the gesture her friend had made for her. Another part of her blared red flashing lights. 
“Pipes, thank you so much but you really didn’t have to do that,” she reasoned, hoping the nice words would convince her friend to get her ass off of the couch and leave. “I’m not feeling too good anyway and I think I might be coming down with something. You should go before you catch it,” she smiled. “Maybe there’s still time to find Jase and go to dinner.” 
Piper shook her head, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV. “Come on Annabeth, I think your pride can take this one. You’ve been alone on Valentine’s day before and it’s nothing to be ashamed of. So what do you think? The Notebook or Message in a Bottle? You should change too,” she added, glancing at Annabeth’s fancy jeans and pretty gray top. She hoped Piper hadn’t noticed the extra makeup she had on that she usually forgoes.
Her heart pounded in her ears and Annabeth tried once more what she knew was impossible.
“Pipes, I really think that-”
“Hey Wise Girl? What time is our reserva...” Annabeth’s eyes slammed shut in defeat as the voice carried out from her bedroom and her shirtless boyfriend walked out to the living room, his sentence trailing off as he took in the girl on the couch. His green eyes widened in shock and his mouth formed a perfectly shocked ‘o’ shape. Annabeth mirrored the sentiment. They were screwed.
Piper was off of the couch in a flash her eyes wider than she had ever seen them and Annabeth pondered exactly what was going through her best friend’s head. She clearly decided to say the first thing that came to her mind.
“Bullshit.” 
Percy burst out a laugh and Annabeth glared at him, effectively shutting him up for the time being. He ran out of the room and came back seconds later, now wearing a shirt.
“Before you say anything,” Annabeth started. “Let us explain.”
“Explain what exactly?” Piper cut her off. “How you’ve been dating the boy you’ve been claiming to hate for the past seven years? Or how you’re a much better actress than we give you credit for?” Annabeth winced at the statement but Percy was there in an instant, his arm wrapping itself around her waist in a comforting hold.
“Easy Pipes,” his voice was a warning and Annabeth squeezed the hand that rested on her waist, shooting the boy next to her a thankful look. He only pressed his lips to her temple in response and Annabeth melted a little bit.
Piper caught the act, her eyes widening even more somehow. “Damn. So this is real?” The two nodded and Percy’s hand squeezed her waist a little bit. Annabeth gazed at her friend warily, her nerves dissipating when Piper’s face broke into a massive grin. 
“You know what this means?” Percy had dropped his head to Annabeth’s shoulder and was playing with one of her curls.
“I can finally stop pretending to hate my girlfriend?” he asked into Annabeth’s neck and she laughed as his wild hair tickled her. She kissed his cheek and turned back to Piper, who’s grin was now positively victorious. 
“No,” she replied, reaching for her phone and dialing a number, her smile never leaving her face. “It means Valdez owes me fifty bucks.”
~~
“Person A doesn’t know Person B and Person C are together until Person C walks into Person B���s room on Valentine’s Day without knocking.”
~~
that’s it. also can someone please give me prompts cause i wanna try to write more :)
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agentwhiskeysdarlin · 4 years
Text
Witchcraft
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Pairing: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x Reader (no y/n)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: fluff, mentions of smutty times, make-out session, jack cracks a bad joke, a few curse words and I believe that’s it?
Word Count: 1,601 
Author’s Notes: HELLO I AM BACK!!!! After two months I have finally returned to the writing world. First getting sick and then my mental health being terrible just hasn’t been the right time but hopefully I am back at this again. Of course I had to make my come back with my favorite cowboy because it’s me. I was listening to my spooky playlist the other day and the wonderful song “Witchcraft” by Frank Sinatra came on and well this happened.  As always @clint-aww-no-barton​ is always here for my mental breakdowns and my constant frustration. Reminder if you want to be tagged in my fics please let me know! I hope you all enjoy!!
Also here is link to listen to the song if you never have! “Witchcraft” by Frank Sinatra
ao3 link for story 
    You ran your hands down your black dress for the hundredth time before using the Bronco’s side mirror to fix your makeup one last time.
  “Darlin’ could you come help me with this, you know come give me a hand,” Jack let out a laugh at his own joke motioning at the fake hand he had been struggling with. 
  You rolled your eyes but couldn't control the laugh that followed as you rounded to the driver side. You instructed Jack to turn and face you before working on pinning the hand to his suit jacket. After finally getting it in place you brushed down his arms giving him a smile. 
  “Now you are the perfect Gomez,” you reached up and softly brushed his hair with your fingers making sure all the little pieces were sleeked down in place.
  “And you darlin’ are the perfect Morticia,” Jack threw you a smirk before pulling you down for a kiss.
  You kissed him back but only quickly before pulling away and letting your finger come up to rest on his now pouty lips.
  “Can’t ruin my lipstick,” you chuckled at his sad puppy dog eyes while you whipped the little bit of red that was on his lips. 
  Jack settled his hands on your hips and pushing you back as he stood up straightening himself out better.
  “You ready to make our grand entrance?”
  “I think so,” you let out a soft breath trying not to let Jack know you were nervous but who were you kidding the man could read you like a damn book.
  “Darlin’ you know there is no reason to be so nervous. I know this is our first even together as a couple but everyone at Statesman loves you and they will be happy for us,” Jack had taken your hands in the progress of his speech.
  “I know I know,” you looked up at him with a small smile and squeezed his hands.
  “Then let’s go my love.”
  Jack straightened up tall and put his arm out for you to grasp at his bicep with your hand. You held your head high as the two of you walked into the party that was already at full swing. Everyone was dancing to the loud, fast pace music, but the second you and Jack entered the room it seemed like all heads turned to you. Tequila and Ginger were pretty much front and center, both of them wearing shit eating grins the second they saw you.
  “Here we go,” you mumbled probably too low for anyone to hear.
  “Well it took you two long enough!” Tequila’s words slurred from his lips as he patted Jack on the back.
  “It really did but I’m happy for you both. Hurt her Jack and everyone will be on your ass,” Ginger’s smiled faded to a serious one for only a second before throwing you a wink.
  “No need to worry Ginger. I don’t plan to ever let this one go,” Jack looked down at you and you smiled way too wide back up at him.
  The two of you continued your way through the crowd receiving the same reaction from literally everyone. You felt yourself relax as each person found out about the fact that Jack and yourself were finally a couple. Jack stole away to get you drinks while you continued to socialize. 
  “Darlin’ you want to go find a table?” Jack’s hand placing on your lower back was the only warning you got before his voice was in your ear.
  “That would be great,” you let out a sigh after the last person walked off.
    You made your way to a table and as you sat down the familiar notes of one of your favorite songs began to play from the speakers and you lit up. “Witchcraft” by Frank Sinatra wrapped around you. You glanced over at Jack across the room still trying to make his way over but colleague after colleagues were coming up to him trying to set their best impressions on the senior agent. You knew that with the newness of your relationship status your cowboy may not act his normal ways around his fellow Statesman agents. You let yourself get lost in the music humming to yourself and glancing around the room at all the other people dancing. You were pulled back when Jack sat your drinks down on the table and reached out a hand to you. You stared at his hand for a second before looking up at him with a smile. 
  “May I have this dance darlin’?” 
  “Of course you may,” you took his hand and followed him to the dance floor. 
  He pulled you flush to him, one arm around you and the other holding one of your hands. He started to sway, moving you in time with the song. He leaned down against your ear and began to sing. 
  'Cause it's witchcraft
Wicked witchcraft
And although I know it's strictly taboo
When you arouse the need in me
My heart says: yes, indeed in me
Proceed with what your leading me to
It's such an ancient pitch
But one that I never switch
There ain't no nicer witch than you  
  You closed your eyes and the entire world melted around you. It was just you, Jack and his voice. You were finally with him. After months of longing looks and shy advances it had finally happened and you had never been happier. You could feel the tears clouding your vision before you could stop them and you tried to blink them back. Jack pulled away as the song ended no intention of you two moving from your spot until he saw your face. Pure worry crossed his features as he pulled the two of you off the dance floor and straight out of the room so you two could hear each other more clearly.
  “Darlin’ hey what’s wrong?” Jack searched your face as he lifted it up with his fingers.
  “I’m fine, I promise. It just hit me we were finally together and yeah it got to me,” you laughed at yourself as you motioned at your face and rolling your eyes. 
  “Oh my sweet girl. I am so happy we are finally together,” his hand reached up to cup your face and pull your lips to his.
  It didn’t take long for you to kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him even closer. Jack let out the softest growl and backed you up against the closest wall. 
  “Hey… whoa sorry!” Tequila interrupted and you and Jack jumped slightly pulling apart.
  “Yes Tequila?” Jack asked almost a little irritated but smirking down at you all the same.
  “They’re doing a costume contest and you guys are in the running so you might want to get back in there.”
  “We will be right there,” you giggled even though your face was fully red with embarrassment.
  “Shall we pick this up later?” Jack asked with one last peck to your lips.
  “Absolutely cowboy,” you smirked.
  Jack went to walk away and you pulled him back and reached up to wipe off the lipstick that had been smeared across his lips before pulling a mirror out and fixing your own quickly. Jack watched you before the two of you walked hand in hand back into the room. The music and dancing had stopped and Champ had taken the stage, one person and another couple stood next to him.
  “Alright and our winner of the costume contest is…our very own Gomez and Morticia! Jack you two get on up here!” Champ motioned for the two of you to join as the crowd applauded and cheered.
  You followed Jack, hand in hand on stage and then the man turned on the works. He started walking around acting like Gomez Adams, kissing your arm and you couldn't help the laugh that escaped from you no matter how hard you tried to channel your own character. The crowd laughed before Jack finally kissed your cheek and took the mic from Champ.
  “Thank ya’ll for the win everyone,” Jack threw a hand up in a wave before grabbing your hand and raising it in the air with his in victory.
  You two walked off stage, Jack collecting your small prize for the win before pulling you toward the door as quickly as possible. A few people stopping you to congratulate you as you were on your way out and Jack was ever so the gentleman. You finally reached the door and he pulled you out and to the Bronco. 
  “Darlin’ would you do me the honor in spending the night tonight?”
  “Wait really?” You looked over at him to be sure he was serious.
  The look on Jack’s face alone told you he was serious and it made a deep desire bubble up in the pit of your stomach mixed with nerves.
  “Jack I would love to,” you smiled at him shyly.
  When you reached the Bronco Jack opened the door for you but before you were allowed to get in his turned you around and let his lips connect with yours again. He finally let you go and you climbed in, Jack soon following. The two of you started down the road and Jack reached for you resting a hand on your thigh. You laid your head back and looked over at him as he drove. You had no idea the spell he had on you but you didn’t mind, you were willing to be under it for the rest of your life. 
Tagged: @jimmythegirl​ @discogrrl​ @arcadianempress​ @immundusspiritu​ @someplace-darker​ @thisis-theway​ @on-the-razor-crest​ @fioccodineveautunnale​ @spookyold-saintjm​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​ @the-mandalorian-clone-lover​
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Text
Only Mine (Pt. 6)
A/N: We’re using Taylor songs again because we love Queen Taylor. So these are not my works (obviously) but hers. However if you’ve never heard some of these I would highly suggest you check them out because all Taylor songs are absolute bops. Pairing: Gerard Way x F!Pop Star!Reader Word count: 3,541 Warnings: Swearing, implied sex (no smut though), arguing (minor)
You found the release of Fractious to be the most ironic days of your life.
You were in the media everywhere, selling only a few thousands copies less in it’s first week than your previous record. Which you were fine with, that was somewhat of the plan.
But you were no where to be seen. Hiding out in a new house you and Gerard had bought New Jersey for just under three million dollars. But no one knew about that purchase, other than your closest family and friends. Because no one needed to know.
The suspense of it all started extremely high, as you only announced the album 12 hours prior to its drop. And the world went insane, fans jumping to Twitter to go absolutely crazy over this new persona that they had already began to love, and some had already caught onto the ‘good girl gone bad’ idea.
You released the entire tracklist only three hours before the drop, and you were already stalking fan pages who began making theories about what it meant. There were already a lot of ‘THIS ONE’S ABOUTE GERARD’ and theories already popping up about him, which made you lightly smile knowing damn well a lot of it was.
The tracklist read: Blank Space I Knew You Were Trouble Style End Game I Did Something Bad I Know Places Out Of The Woods Dancing With Our Hands Tied Don’t Blame Me Getaway Car Clean
You smiled and lightly laughed once you refreshed your phone on the couch, your face and name at the top of iTunes and various other music providers promoting your new album.
“Congrats babe.” Gerard said from where he sat next to you, giving you a kiss and squeezing your thigh, “I’m proud of you.” “Thanks Gee.” You leaned your head onto his shoulder, “I love you. So much.” “I love you more.” He smiled down.
What made it all the better was how MCR was entering into their punk era, only making your album and new persona more believable. You had to admit, Gerard’s red and shaggy hair was really hot, and you were living for it, as you had told him a million times.
And you knew how much he loved your new era. As much as he genuinely loved the real, bubbly you (which is of course why he married you) he continuously admired your new all black look, managing to wear skin tight jeans and short shorts with more crop tops than usual and leather jackets galore. And you can’t forget how many pairs of Doc Martins you had, plus Louboutin boots all for the red bottoms. You basically looked like a filthy rich home wrecker, AKA the look you were going for.
But at home and in private you were the same old Y/N, always letting your natural hair fall into its regular ways, with little to no makeup and not ashamed to wear whatever you wanted.
What seemed to put the cherry on top to this new era was the newest addition to your family, AKA a black french bulldog named Rocko the two of you got. He was a tornado of chaos who would run around the house with his dozens of toys, taunting you and Gerard with them as if to show some form of superiority that he clearly lacked. You treated him like he was a newborn baby, constantly. You bought him clothes, beds, and toys, letting him sleep with you and Gerard despite your husbands protests about how he “took up too much room”. To you, the little canine could do nothing wrong.
That was until he chewed up your favorite pair of shoes, which just oh so happened to cost multiple hundreds of dollars. Gerard was furious at his actions, complaining that there was no reason for him to do so with the countless amount of toys he already had. You were mad at first too, but after only a few seconds of the pup giving you his eyes of sympathy you forgave him and moved on as if nothing happened. Gerard was still in his state of anger though.
“Oh, look, the designs for the tour outfits came in.” You smiled from where you laid on the couch, checking emails on your laptop, Rocko at your feet sitting between you and Gerard who was reading a book. You opened up the file to be greeted with all dozen outfits, which were beyond perfect. Gerard looked over, interested in the topic. “I like that one.” You pointed to one especially scandalous duo of tiny shorts and an even smaller top that could have been easily mistaken for a bra if it wasn’t for the thicker material on the all black set with black tights. “It makes me look like a whore.” Gerard nearly spat out his coffee.
“But you’re not a whore.” “Yeah, well, my alter ego is.” You smiled. “And you made her that way.” You looked up at him from quickly, “Take that as a compliment.” “How is me turning my wife into a whore a compliment?” He asked, puzzled.
“Just take it as one.” You huffed.
“I do think you’ll look bad ass in it though,” He remarked, returning to his book.
“Awww, thanks babe.” You blushed, “Maybe I’ll ask them to make you a matching outfit.” You lightly laughed. “Haha, very funny.” He rolled his eyes.
“It sucks we’ll be touring at the same time.” You sighed, “I miss being able to see you and the guys more.” “Yeah I miss you too,” He sighed as well, “And Ray does too.” You lightly laughed.
“Ray’s coming to the first show, right?” You asked, looking up at Gerard. He nodded.
“He cleared all of his schedule to go and he’s pumped.” You smiled.
“Good.” You closed your laptop, climbing over to give Gerard a kiss, which he happily accepted and did the same back. “Somedays I wish you kissed me the way as you do Frank.” You lightly smiled, letting go as he chuckled.
“I mean, I could.” He smiled at you, running his hands through your hair, “But that’s more aggressive and in the moment. I prefer to savor the kisses I have with you, let you know how much I love you.” You smiled, lightly rolling your eyes.
“You’re so sappy sometimes, Gee.” You responded, “But I love it.”
That night, as you were going to bed, you stopped in your mirror momentarily to take a look at yourself. You had gained 25-ish pounds since your break from the spotlight, still recovering from your ED. Your doctor said that you were healthy now, but some of the fatrolls that fell on your sides and hip dips as well were starting to bother you. And your stomach still had that bit of blub that you were never very fond of.
Gerard walked past you in the bathroom, immediately getting the memo. “Am I too fat?” You turned around and asked him, his face turning to a form of ridicule.
“You’re a fucking goddess.” He said looking you up and down, “So no.”
“Are you sure Gee-” Before you could finish, he grabbed your hand and practically dragged you to bed where he pushed you down with ease beneath him, giving you a searing kiss.
“You’re fucking gorgeous and the most beautiful woman alive. If you say one more thing about you not being perfect I’m going to frame every photo of you in every inch of this damn house so you know just how incredible you are.” “Fine.” You sighed reluctantly. “Now say it with me,” He began, “I, Y/F/N Y/M/N Y/L/N-Way am perfect.” You sighed, choosing to go with it.
“I, Y/F/N Y/M/N Y/L/N-Way am perfect.” “Good girl.” He said with another quick kiss. You lightly laughed, rolling over to your side of the bed to give Gerard his. You took your hand, running your fingers through his messy hair as the two of you stared at each other.
“After these two tours, I think I want to take a break.” You admitted, saying so above a whisper. He lightly nodded. “Maybe we can start a family.” He nodded again. “And settle down.” He gave you a kiss on the nose.
“That sounds perfect.”
-Time skip because I’m lAzY-
You were on stage doing what you do best, simultaneously swaying your hips to the music and going along with some of the choreography, as if the skin tight black and sparkly body suit and above the knee black boots weren’t enough.
As usual, you would look over to your husband where he was in the VIP section and sing to him, a smile plastered on his face. You would occasionally look over to see both the approval of your family, and friends, including Ray who seemed to be having the time of his life dancing and singing the lyrics.
The show was going absolutely perfect, it was bigger than any other that you had ever done, a larger stage, larger screens, larger everything. Even a larger crowd with over 100,000 people for your first show on tour. You could hear the audience echo your lyrics, jumping up and down judging by the movements of their light up wrist bands.
You of course played a few songs off of your previous album, doing a few acoustic with just you and the crowd which were some of your favorite experiences and moments. You also did a quick speech thanking all of your loyal fans who waited for you to come back with new music, despite the long period of time where you were no where to be seen.
After the finale, you ran back with a huge smile still on your face with your team, drinking some water constantly to hydrate yourself. It only took you a few moments in the back hallways of the stadium before you saw your husband at one end, smiling at you. You smiled back, running up to him and clinging your arms around him. He hugged you back, giving you a quick kiss. “You did great.” He whispered with a huge smiled, “I’m so proud.” “Thanks.” You smiled back, giving him another kiss. The two of you walked away, arms around each other as you leaned onto him. You tried to keep PDA to a limit, especially since the documentary was actively being made and was recording everything.
Once you were back in your private dressing room where no one else was, he gave you an even bigger hug, swinging you around and you lightly squealed. “You’re just so good.” He laughed.
“Thanks.” You smiled at him, letting go to go and take off your makeup at the chair. “I just gotta meet a few fans then we can go back to the hotel.” You told him through the mirror and he nodded.
“Y/N?” You heard your assistant knock at the door. “Hey, Betty.” You smiled up at her and she smiled back.
“I assumed you would want Rocky with you.” She said, putting the small black dog and he ran up to your chair.
“Ah yes,” You smiled down at him, picking him up and giving him a bunch of kisses on his little face, “Thank you.” You told her and she nodded, “No problem.” She closed the door back. You held the small dog in your lap, finishing off your face and hair before getting up and putting him down to change into regular clothes from your stage outfit.
“Gee?” You asked and he hummed, looking up from his phone, “Could you unzip me?” You asked and he nodded, getting up to do so. Usually Gerard would pull something after that, making it less PG, but you shot him a quick glare warning him not to do anything, so he didn’t.
You quickly replaced your stage clothes with a pair of jeans and sweatshirt, turning around to see Gerard still staring at you, wide eyes. “Oh please,” you sighed at him, “We’ve been together for over eight years Gee, handle yourself.” “Sorry, it’s just really hard to.” He tried to defend himself, you rolled your eyes.
“I’ll be back soon, babe.” You smiled, giving him a peck on the lips before excusing yourself.
The meet and greet went by as always, taking about half an hour before you said bye to everyone, taking photos, and then went back to Gerard. He was still on his phone on one of the couches in the room, Rocko by his feet. “Ready to go?” He asked, looking up, and you nodded grabbing your phone and backpack.
On the way out you couldn’t stop smiling, hand in hand with Gerard going in one of the large black SUVs, you going in first, then Rocko, then Gerard. “How’re you feeling?” Your husband asked and you just smiled.
“Great,” You admitted, taking a sip from your water, “Everyone loved it.” He gave your thigh a squeeze and looked at you.
“It was definitely pretty bad ass.” He smiled and you lightly laughed.
You had walked into your suite, setting your bag and the dog down, placing him in his bed (in the living room part of the room) while Gerard grabbed him a bowl of water. You gave the dog a quick good night kiss, resorting to your own room where Gerard followed, closing the door behind you.
Almost immediately your lips were clashed together, his hands on your waist as he swiftly put you on the large plush duvet of the bed, moving down to your collarbone and neck.
“Do you want me to stop?” He asked for only a brief moment, as a double check. You shook your head violently.
“No,” You sighed out, “Please no.” He smiled down at you connecting your lips against. “Whatever you want, sugar.”
-Another time skip-
You wouldn’t have ever known if it wasn’t for the insane amount of fatigue and throwing up you were going through, only a month into tour. Initially you could’ve sworn it was just a cold turned to maybe the flu, as many of the symptoms you were having would go away within a few hours, so you were ready for show time.
But here you sat in your hotel room, curled up on the bed with Rocko next to you, your mind completely empty as you stared into the thin air, Betty had run to the nearest pharmacy. What were you going to do on tour? Fans would figure it out easily. But what would you tell Gerard?
Once Betty came back she gave you a somber, almost apologetic smile handing your the small bag. You thanked her, closing the door and going into the bathroom.
You stood over the bathroom sink, your hands gripping the granite edges for dear life as you stared down at the three tests. All positive. It took you a few minutes of staring, rocking back and forth, for everything to sink in.
This was not how you planned it, it was never supposed to go like this. You and Gerard were going to take a break, settle down, have your first child and be together all through your pregnancy. Now you were both on huge tours promoting your new work, away from home for at least the next five months. 
You could feel warm tears stream down your cheeks, a small sniffle coming from your nose as you grabbed your phone. Reluctantly, you pressed on your husband’s name, pressing the small phone icon displayed underneath it. You put your face up to the screen slowly. Only a few rings and he answered.
“Hey Y/N/N,” He said, “What’s up.” It took you a few seconds, but you immediately bursted into sobs. “Baby? What’s wrong?” He spoke up, voice with lots of concern.
“Gee,” You began, sniffing again through the sobs, “I’m um- I’m pregnant.” You said. No one spoke for the next few seconds, complete silence on both ends of the line.
“Sweetie,” He said in a light voice, a small laugh following afterwards, “That’s great!” “No, Gerard, it isn’t.” You snapped, “We had all of this planned out perfectly, no one was going to know unless we wanted them to. But no, in the beginning of a fucking world tour this has to happen.” You raised your voice, “And I get it, this is gonna be a fucking walk in the park for you because you’re not here, and you don’t have to play in front of over 50,000 people every night in body tight suits. And you’re going to be separated from your pregnant wife. Life’s probably fucking perfect for you.” You weren’t sure what had gotten into you, but whatever it was it wasn’t pretty.
“What?” He asked, “You say it like we never wanted this. Sometimes things don’t go to plan Y/N.” He snapped back.
“Well they have to in our world Gerard!” You yelled, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down, “We have our lives set out for the next six months. And this is a big deal, and something we can’t do right now.”
“So are you going to get an abortion? Are you going to put it into the adoption system?” He yelled back. You took a few moments to think.
“No.” You admitted, barely above a whisper, “Gee, I’m sorry.” You began sobbing again, your sad feeling taking over any angry one.
“No, sugar, I am.” He clarified with a sigh, “You’re going through a lot and I should be supporting you, not arguing.” “Well I kinda started it.” “And I shouldn’t have continued it.” He responded. “Honey, we’ll figure this out.” He insisted, “We’ll talk to your tour manager and everyone who needs to know, we’ll figure something out. Some way to hide it.” “Okay.” You said somberly.
“Give me a few minutes,” He said, “I’m going to figure out a way to get to you.” “Gee, you’re booked for the next fews months on tour.” “And so are you, but you’re also carrying our child right now.” He spoke back, “We’re going to figure it out, okay? We’re going to have a kid, and start a family, maybe a little off track from what we intended, but this is what we’ve wanted, right?” You nodded despite him not seeing you.
“Yeah, of course.” You calmed down. “This is what we’ve wanted.”
It took a full week for a plan to be made. A week of unnecessary stress and anxiety for everyone on your team who was high enough on the roster to know about the pregnancy. Not even your families or friends knew, everything right now was business.
Gerard managed to fly in during a three day break the band had, consoling your emotions during the time as you two began to discuss personal plans. There was a lot of crying, both tears of sadness and joy, as you two began to discuss where you would live most of the time, which room the baby would take, how to even handle a child.
You already knew the baby’s name, which could go for either a boy or girl: Shiloh Monet Way. You were still very unsure about planning to have a baby, but since your tour would end when the third trimester began, you would have at least a few months to plan and figure out everything.
Gerard had already talked to the guys and their managers about pushing back some of the dates so there was a month break for him to be home around the baby’s due date. At the very least he wanted to be with you while giving birth, but he also wanted to help both you and the baby recover.
New outfits and plans to completely hide your pregnancy were already in the working with your teams. It was like a completely undercover operation to keep both you and your child’s privacy to a fine tune. And of course. Gerard and the guys promised to not say anything at all, even a hint towards you being pregnant wouldn’t be dropped.
“I say we wait to tell our families and friends,” You admitted to your husband, the two of you on the hotel bed getting ready to go to a sound check. “Just in case anything happens. I mean, we have to tell our teams and the guys and stuff, which we did, but no one else.” He nodded.
“Just not for too long,” He said, “Or at least once we know that baby’s developing fine.” You nodded and sighed.
“I was hoping having our first child together wouldn’t be this stressful.” You admitted, almost shamefully in a way.
“It’s okay, sugar.” He put his hand on your thigh and gave it a light squeeze. “We’re going to make the best of it, okay? You have a little less than five months left on your tour and then I get to take a break. This’ll work out just fine.” You nodded, placing your head on his shoulder as you knew he was right.
“You make everything better, Gee.” You said, playing with his hand as he placed a kiss on the top of your head.
“I’ll do it for you, sweetheart.”
28 notes · View notes
captcas · 4 years
Text
Worth Fighting For
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WORTH FIGHTING FOR by capthamm
Killian “Hook” Jones is a dominate up and comer in the UFC while Emma “The Savior” Swan’s career was cut short. When Hook’s manager moves up and the office brings in UFC’s youngest legend to keep him in check, will either of them be able to handle it?
read on ao3 // tumblr: ch 1
[Chapter 2/?]
Change has never quite worked out in Killian’s favor, and he can’t help the surge of panic which fills his gut at the prospect of opening up to someone new, but he trusts Rob and Regina with his life— basically owes them it— so he’ll show up to this meeting with a nice suit and his best behavior. Regina assured him that it’s someone who knows the business inside and out and has a good reputation within the league.
He doesn’t really care about all that. He just wants to fight.
Well… mostly.
He exits the subway and walks the two blocks to Mill’s Management. He walks through the revolving door into the lobby and takes a deep breath. He’s been here a million and a half times for meetings and holiday parties -even to help out with Roland- but today the air feels thick with anticipation. He greets the receptionist, Anna, briefly, knowing full well if he talks too much he’ll probably be late for his meeting in half an hour.
She smiles warmly at him, a glint of knowing in her eye.
He figures she already knows who Regina’s replacement is. His meeting is at 10:30 and he assumes whoever it is was already here for a bit of onboarding beforehand. He nods and walks into the elevator physically and mentally shaking himself into character. Whoever this new manager is, expects cocky, dominating, MMA fighter Killian “Hook” Jones, and not the quiet, broken, human being he really is.
He knows he’s going to have to tell this person his life story eventually. They need to know everything in order to steer the press in the correct direction as far as questions and features go. They are going to need the highlights as well as the skeletons. It was easy when it was Regina, she’s been there for most of it and heard the rest from Liam, he didn’t really have to tell her anything.
This is the longest elevator ride of his life.
When the doors finally open, he exits and is immediately greeted with a thud to his knees.
“Uncle Killian!!!!!!” He can’t help but chuckle at the lad’s enthusiasm.
“Hello, Rol.” He slings him over his shoulder with ease. “How’s my favorite lad?”
“I’m fine but mom is waiting for you and she looks stressed. Dad said not to bother her today. Can we get ice cream when you’re done?”
Killian kisses Roland’s temple and sets him down. “Aye, lad. Good call steering clear of your mom this morning. I’ll talk to her about the ice cream though.” He winks as Roland beams and runs back to the room Regina and Robin set up as his place to hang when they had to bring him to work. They try and avoid it whenever they can, but with someone new coming on board, it seems absolutely everyone is in the office. Robin is only a trainer and coach (really has nothing to do with management at all) and even he’s in the corner talking in hushed tones to one of the other managers, Tink.
Killian assumes he’s here as moral support and gives him a nod and wave before heading to Regina’s office.
The visit from Roland was a mood booster but he’s lost all the confidence and swagger he built up in the elevator. He sighs and quickly snaps back into character.
He notices her blonde hair as he knocks rhythmically on Regina’s door frame. They’re chatting animatedly about something. Regina looks up, “Good, you’re here. Please take a seat, Killian.”
The blonde turns around at the mention of his name, and when he sees her face, he can’t help but gasp.
. . .
She hasn’t had to get ready for work since… well since high school. Getting ready for a fight was… different. She had a very specific ritual for fights that did not include the multitude of decisions which are a daily part of working an office job. Today, she had to worry about pant suit vs. skirt suit, heels vs. flats, hair up  vs. down, hair curled vs. straightened, and barely there makeup vs. the whole nine yards of makeup. Back when she was fighting, she wore her fight clothes and had her fight hair, and– let’s be real– her minimal fight makeup. Getting ready for a fight was definitely not the same as putting on a monkey suit and a pound of makeup and hoping it’s professional enough for Regina Mills.
Ruby assured her it was.
She’s not sure what makes Ruby the authority.
She trusts her anyway.
Ruby gave her a few different options as far as outfits for her first day, assuring Emma that it would alleviate stress about what to wear. Emma’s not so sure. She tries on the pantsuit first and it feels a bit stuffy so she grabs the second outfit: a charcoal grey pencil skirt, black sleeveless blouse, and a red blazer with low nude heels. As she slips the blazer over her shoulders and flips her hair out from underneath, she feels a surge of confidence she hasn’t felt since the night before a fight.
At the risk of sounding superstitious, red has always been Emma’s color. From her training jacket to her sports bra to her shorts, she dominated in red and it always sort of stuck. Ruby likes to think it was because of her “impact,” so Emma was not surprised when the red blazer found its way into her cart.
She promised Ruby she’d send her a picture of whichever outfit she went with so she snaps a quick pic before throwing on some mascara and grabbing her new work tote (also courtesy of Ruby) and heading out the door.
She practically runs to the subway, almost missing the 8:15 car. Once she gets off at her stop, it takes her walking two blocks in the wrong direction to figure out she’s lost. Practically late at this point, Emma whistles for a cab and ten minutes later arrives in front of the towering building (exactly five minutes early).
She walks in the front door and is greeted by a bubbly redhead, “Oh my gosh you’re Emma Swan! Mrs. Mills told me you’d be coming but I’m such a huge fan I still wasn’t prepared. Seriously, your KO against Mulan Fa is legendary!”
Emma tries to keep up but with how fast this woman talks, she just nods and smiles.
“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be fangirling. That’s the opposite of professional, but I really can’t help myself. Anna, by the way!” She turns back to her desk and hands Emma a small white card. “Here’s an elevator pass. She’s office number 815. Floor number 8! Room 15! Good luck, hope to see you around here more.”
Emma smiles at Anna and thanks her for her help before stepping onto the elevator. She tries deep breaths to calm her nerves, but finds herself more jittery than before her first fight.
She swears this is the longest elevator ride of her life.
She steps off the elevator and is greeted by one of the sleekest offices she’s ever seen in her life. The entire thing is decked out in modern black and white furniture, and accented with UFC red. She has to physically stop herself from audibly gasping.
She searches for office 15 and is unsurprised to find it in the back corner. Emma takes one more deep breath and knocks on the doorframe. The brunette woman behind the desk looks up and gives Emma a sharp smile.
“Hello, Miss Swan. Just a moment and I will take you to Sidney in HR.”
Emma breathes a sigh of relief as she follows her, stopping abruptly behind Regina as she knocks on the doorframe of an office much smaller than hers, “Sidney? This is Miss Swan, she’ll need up with some onboarding. Keep it short, she has a meeting at 10:30 with her first client.”
He nods enthusiastically with a “Yes Mrs Mills. Of course. Please, Miss Swan, have a seat. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Emma sits down at his request, giving a tight smile to Regina as she heads back to her office. Sidney seems nice enough, maybe a little bit over-infatuated with Regina but nice. She sits at his desk and he immediately starts talking about her onboarding.
An hour later, Emma is pretty sure this is the best gig in the world.
The benefits alone make this worth taking for her and Henry, not to mention the pay and perks. As Sidney takes her to her desk, Emma gets a better feel for the layout of the office. She’s not one to feel immediately comfortable, but she can see herself really thriving here and it gives her the confidence she needs to walk into Regina’s office a bit early for the 10:30 meeting with her first client.
Regina starts chatting with Emma about last Saturday’s Fight Night and it only makes her feel more at ease. It’s rare to find women as well versed in UFC as she is without them practically suffocating her by talking about her stinted career. Regina is recapping Jefferson Hatter’s TKO when she’s interrupted by a rhythmic tapping on the door.
Emma tenses slightly, realizing this is probably her client. She doesn’t turn around right away as Regina greets the fighter, but ends up whipping around when she hears his name.
Killian? As in Killian “Hook” Jones.
Emma finds herself once again physically restraining herself from reacting unprofessionally— she’s pretty sure scoffing and rolling her eyes at her first assignment isn’t a good look.
He smirks at her knowingly as he enters the room and Emma can’t help but squirm in her seat.
“Killian, this Emma, Emma Swan. You may remember her from—“
Killian cuts Regina off, “I am well aware of Miss Swan, Regina.” He turns his attention towards her, “Swan, big day today!”
Regina looks between them like they’re playing at Wimbledon.
Emma swallows the entirety of her disdain for Hook and plasters on her best fake smile. “Yes! Excited to join the team here at Mills Management.” She shakes Killian’s hand for good measure. “And, to be frank, quite honored to be trusted with one of their best up and comers.” She smirks at Killian and she can tell he caught the slight jab. She expects him to back off a bit, but he responds in double.
“Likewise, Swan. I’m honored to be put into the capable hands of such a legend like yourself.” Emma knows Killian is kidding with her, but the legend joke doesn’t sting less. She tries not to react but she catches a wave of understanding flash across Killian’s eyes as he shifts the entire tone of the conversation and addresses Regina instead.
Maybe he’s not where he thought he’d be either.
Now is not the time to psychoanalyze her new client.
“How does that sound, Miss Swan?” She’s snapped out of her thoughts at the sound of Regina addressing her.
She has no idea what she’s agreeing to, but does so anyway figuring there isn’t much choice either way, “Great! That sounds perfect.” She smiles at the two of them and hopes to God someone recaps this meeting with an email.
“Fantastic. Well then, as excited as I am to have you both here and working together, I do have other clients to attend to.” Emma nods as her and Jones stand in unison. “Oh and, Killian, why don’t you escort Miss Swan out and give her a bit of a tour—“
“Oh, Mrs. Mills— that’s not—“
“Nonsense, Swan. I insist.” He smirks at her and grazes his hand over the small of her back as he leads her from the office before turning around once more. “Oh, Reg, I almost forgot.”
Reg? A bit informal— actually, a lot informal.
Regina looks like she may turn as red as the apples on her desk at the nickname but answers him all the same, “Yes, Jones, what is it?”
“The lad wants ice cream.” Killian shoots a shit eating grin first at Emma and then to Regina. Emma is entirely confused but “Reg” seems to understand immediately.
Regina rubs her hands over her temples as she responds, “Fine, but not too late Killian, honestly. And pick one topping. The kid still needs dinner.”
“Aye, aye, your Majesty.” He bows mockingly and if he hadn’t led Emma away so quickly she could’ve sworn she saw Regina flip him off.
. . .
Killian is not entirely sure how to process the fact that his new manager is the woman he’s been secretly pining over since the first time he saw her walk into the training center.
A year ago.
So Killian does what he does best and throws his fighting persona into full gear, only slipping once when it came to asking about Roland’s ice cream.
He probably shouldn’t have called her Reg.
He’ll pay for that later.
He’s showing Emma the kitchen when she finally interacts with more than just a nod. “So… Reg?”
He cringes and immediately scratches the back of his neck, a nervous tick he’s really trying to kick. “Uh, yeah. Regina— Mrs. Mills— and I were close before all this.” He motions to nothing in particular and somehow the entire office at the same time. “She’s sort of the entire reason I’m even here.”
Emma nods; seemingly understanding what he’s leaving strictly between the lines. “Huh, alright then. Guess we have that in common?”
He can’t help but shake his head in disbelief. “Pardon me for being forward, lo— Swan, but I think your track record in the UFC is what got you into the door. I doubt there’s anyone else better qualified who’s not currently fighting.”
Not his love. Bloody hell.
She responds with a forced smile and he can tell she’s not comfortable with praise. He’s unsettled by the amount of joy learning more about her brings him but also by the fact that he’d give anything to praise her everyday of his life.
This woman has walls. Great-Wall-of-China walls.
What he wouldn’t give to start breaking those down.
He finishes the tour of the office and, with a quick “thanks” and “see you soon”, Emma starts to head back to her desk. He nods in response, not wanting to push too much for one day.
He wasn’t positive getting a new manager was a good idea, but if it means being even a small part of Emma Swan’s world, he's all for it. Not thirty seconds after she’s returned to her desk, Killian pulls out his phone to send her an email before finding Roland for their ice cream run.
. . .
Emma sits down at her desk slightly overwhelmed by everything thrown her way in the last— what time is it? Noon?— 3 hours: a rad new job with amazing pay and benefits, a seemingly level-headed and fair boss, a grossly complicated new client who seems to be more than meets the eye, the feeling that shot through her spine at said client’s touch…
Do people say rad anymore?
Why does she care that he touched her back?
She doesn’t.
She grounds herself by logging into the computer.
Bad idea.
She’s immediately bombarded with email notifications. Most of them involve onboarding or her one-on-ones she’s to have with each member of the staff.
It takes her 45 minutes but she eventually gets to the top where she finds an unexpected email from her newest (and she supposes only) client.
Swan,
Pleasure to be reacquainted with you today. I look forward to our blossoming partnership.
You looked a tad far away in our meeting with Regina so I figured I’d recap what you agreed to. Twice weekly one-on-ones between you and I to discuss promotions as well as social media and desired fights, to be scheduled at our leisure. Also attendance at each Fight Night for which I am on the card (comp’d by the company, obviously).
I hope all of this isn’t too overwhelming, feel free to text, call, or email to set up our first meeting.
555-235-8872
I assure you, I am looking forward to it.
K
Killian “Hook” Jones UFC Featherweight Mills Management
Emma snorts– the email sounds like it was written by a thesaurus. As she re-reads for any details she missed, she can’t seem to quell the butterflies in her stomach. The realization that in a mere matter of minutes Killian was able to read her that well is comforting– no… unsettling? This stranger somehow picked up on her disdain for being referred to as a legend almost immediately, backing off and changing the subject promptly. Not to mention he could tell she was distant in the meeting and followed up with an email just like she wanted.
She brushes off the entire thing to pure coincidence and ignores the voice in the back of her head that is telling her they may turn out to be a pretty good team.
(It doesn’t help that this voice sounds a lot like a certain British fighter she just spent an hour and a half with.)
Emma finishes her work day with a barrage of meetings and paperwork. She was wary to start on a Friday, but after the rollercoaster day she’s had, she’s grateful for two days to recharge. Before logging off for the day, she pulls Killian’s email up once more and reluctantly programs his cell phone number into hers.
For emergencies obviously.
She also responds to the email, keeping it as friendly and professional as possible:
Killian,
Thank you for the recap. Let’s plan on meeting first thing Monday morning. I will reserve a conference room at 9am.
In case of emergencies, here is my cell: (555)-265-2335.
Have a nice weekend. See you Monday.
Emma
Emma Swan Talent Manager Mills Management [email protected] (555) 265-2335
She hits send, logging off her computer and booking it to the subway while trying not to dwell on Killian Jones and their work mandated bi-weekly meetings.
Or the way his hand felt pressed against her back.
Definitely not that.
39 notes · View notes
formeandmyfics · 5 years
Text
Where Did He Go?
JUGENEA FAN FICTION
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1963
Author note: I re-watched a dinner scene from ‘Burton & Taylor’ and it was so very Jugenea that I decide to build a snippet around it. That scene is not mine, just edited to fit the Jugenea universe.*
“You’re going to be great, darling,” Judy said holding June Allyson’s face in her hands adoringly.
They two sat in opposite chairs on the CBS soundstage of The Judy Garland Show during the last rehearsal of episode 5, which would tape in front of a live audience the following day.
June’s husband, Dick Powell, had died earlier that year and it left her good friend deeply depressed. So, Judy invited her to perform on her show. It was the first time she had performed since his passing so it left June nervous on how she’d sound. Judy helped her friend with the melodies and showered her with nothing but love and reassurance. But, the hard work on the show and the energy she had been putting out to others left Judy drained. Not to mention, there was current tension at home with her husband.
Gene was the director of the show, their creative baby, as they called it, and at first everything was amazing. He understood her better than anyone, and he had experienced how she had been treated at MGM. She had been overworked, criticized, scrutinized, it goes on and on. Here, he was patient and understanding and open-minded. They were a ‘hell of a team’, even back to the old days when they acted opposite each other. Plus, Gene absolutely loved directing, especially in this medium. When she did her TV Specials, he was only a producer. Now, he was both and they could call all the shots.
But, a month and a half rolled by, and Judy noticed he would stay at work long after she had left. Most days he would come home and continue working for next week’s episode. She’d go to bed alone and wake up alone, as he’d already be out, or he’d be asleep in the adjoining bedroom. They didn’t go out on their usual date nights and any spare time they had was with the children. She knew this work was important, but she also noticed the two were becoming more like housemates than the lovers that they were.
This past week, however, Gene had started to act harder on the cast and crew. He was irritable, becoming too stern, and not as playful with screw ups as he had been previously. Judy knew Gene was a perfectionist, but she never thought he would treat her like some of his female costars in the movies he was with. Debbie Reynolds, for instance, whom he was very hard on because of her unskilled, ingénue stage.
June replied with relief, “Aw thank you, Judes; we’ll see how it goes tomorrow. That laryngitis really got me this time.”
“Nah, you sound like a bell. See you tomorrow, darling.”
“Bye, sweetheart.”
As the two walked off the stage, Judy looked over at her husband who stood in a group of men going over some things. When she caught his attention from across the way, she motioned to him if she was okay to leave. Gene nodded and shoo’d her away.
When Judy got to her dressing room, she noticed a note taped up on her mirror next to all the pictures of the children hanging there. Leaning in closer, she immediately recognized the handwriting and furrowed her brow as she ripped the paper off to read it.
I’ll be working a little late again tonight. Meet me for a late supper and a drink at Musso and Franks in our usual spot. I’ll be there around 9.
Love you sweetheart,
G
Judy smiled. That was her honey. Feeling better, she left the studio right away to go home and get ready.
Precisely at 9 p.m., Judy walked into the popular bistro on Sunset dressed in a sleek, black cocktail dress with her highest stiletto’s, something Gene thought was sexy ever since she started wearing spiked heels during her concert career. She had washed off her thick stage makeup and applied a more natural look but still had her black lashes and fire red lips, something her husband also loved and her short hair was pulled back to look like a French twist.
Tony, the restaurant’s main maître d, held up his hands graciously as she walked through the door.
The short, bald man’s thick Italian accent filled her ears and she smiled warmly, “Ahh, Mrs. Kelly,”
The two were acquainted since the 40’s, when she first started coming there with Vincente, as it was his favorite restaurant. Tony was a new employee and always addressed her by her husband’s last name. The restaurant was known for its discretion. As a popular celebrity spot, it was always private and respectful to its well-known diners.
“You haven’t been here for months, yes?” he asked taking her hand. “Afraid not. We have been busy with work.”
“New television show. I’ve seen it. Magnifico.”
Judy laughed gleefully, “Thank you, Tony. I appreciate that. Is my husband here?”
“Ah, no. But Mr. Kelly did call ahead. We have your favorite booth over here for you.”
“Thank you.”
He led her to a booth directly behind Charlie Chaplin’s booth, a booth named after the actor, one of the restaurants first celebrity diners.  
She had just ordered a glass of her favorite German wine, when Gene walked in. He was in one of his business suits, but not a dinner suit and his expression looked a little stressed as he walked up to her.
“Hi, doll,” he bent over and gave her a kiss on the cheek before sitting across from her.
“I got your note.”
“I knew you’d see it. Sorry I’m late.”
“You’re not.”
“Can I get you something to drink, sir?”
Gene turned to the waiter, “Scotch rocks, please.”
When the waiter walked away, Judy smiled at her husband in comfortable silence.
When he smiled back just the same she spoke up, “This is lovely. Very intimate.”
Gene noticed a couple across the way staring at them in awe and Judy noticed him staring back and she inquired, “What?”
“Bizarre. I mean, all these years and they’re still interested. You’d think they’d tire, but…”
He looked around again and seemed a little distant and Judy sighed, “Are you going to be like this all night? Just drifting off?”
“I was just thinking of the old times at Ciro’s. It’d mostly be all our friends and such but you’d have some tourists or newcomers come in and they’d sit there staring at all of us like they were watching a movie or something. Do you remember?”
“Sure do.”
“Do you ever think of those times at Ciro’s or The Coconut Grove?”
Judy blinked tenderly at the memories still very much alive for her, “Every day.”
The waiter set his drink down, “Here you are, Sir. Would you like to order?”
“Give us a few, thank you,” Gene took a sip of his drink and perched his lips together, “Did you hear about Saul and Patty?”
“No.”
“They’re getting divorced.”
Judy’s mouth opened a tad, “What? You’ve got to be joking.”
“Nope. They’re the last people I thought would get divorced.”
“Under what pretenses?”
“Not entirely sure. I know a while back he mentioned they were drifting apart.”
Judy raised her eyebrows as she looked down fiddling with her nail, “That’s a shame.”
“It’s funny isn’t it?”
“Hm?”
“What’s at the heart of a good relationship? I mean, love obviously, but that’s a catch-all, really. It’s the main area where all the other bits reside under. The question is: what’s the critical element of a fresh relationship, what keeps a couple together?”
“Err, passion for the heart and soul of one another.”
“Maybe.”
“Sex.”
“Hm. Important. Very.”
“Trust.”
“That’s probably it. I always feel I can trust you when it comes to our relationship.”
Judy smiled mischeviously,“Even before we married?”
“Our affair wasn’t about trust, we both know that. It was about perfect timing.”
“Really? That’s what you think bound us: timing? I always thought it was because of my legs.”
They both chuckled.
“Yes, well, they clearly had a role. They’re still magnificent by the way.”
Gene’s eyes shined as he took another sip of his cocktail and she almost blushed.
“So,” he said breaking the trance, “Are you ready to order or…”
“Darling, listen, listen, listen…” she cut him off gently, “I want to say some things. I’ve wanted to say them for a while. I almost did the other night but you seemed stressed…”
He immediately chimed in with a tired sigh, “I am stressed. I mean, we just got the show going and that damn CBS Aubrey is…”
Judy furrowed her brows a little taken back, “No, I’m not talking about the show, Gene. I’m talking about you and me and how our relationship has been since the show.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re overworking yourself and—“
“Judy, please,” he leaned forward on his elbows and lowered his voice, “Can I say something, now that’s it’s on my mind?” Judy nodded apprehensively and he continued, “There are a couple of things which have crept in over the beginning run of the show. They’re tiny things, but, the way you play to the audience, for instance, you seem too involved in knowing you’re on camera. I don’t mean knowing where to hit your mark, because you do that on point, but your confidence level. I think you should play it as if you are back on stage, you know at the Palace or Carnegie Hall…”
Judy stared at him appalled, “You’re giving me notes? I’m trying to talk to my husband, and instead my director is giving me acting notes?”
“No, I…”
Judy pushed her wine glass away from her not interested in the meal anymore, “Jesus, Gene. Why did you ask me out tonight?”
“What?”
“Why did you ask me out to supper tonight? Why did you do that?” she demanded.
“Because I wanted to have dinner with you and get a drink after a hard week at work.”
Judy giggled almost pathetically shaking her head.
“You’re my wife. It’s perfectly natural for me to want to get dinner with you, isn’t it?”
“I thought my husband was asking me out, not my director. I thought we were going on a date. I got all dressed up and was looking forward to spending time alone with you. You were just flirting with me and now you’re giving me god damn notes.”
Gene let out a heavy sigh and leaned back in his seat, “For Christ sakes, Judy. I was just making conversation.”
Judy leaned forward and lowered her voice pointing at him to prove a point, “When we worked together in the past, you never discussed our work when we went out for dinner. Why now?”
“I told you I’m stressed. It’s a lot of pressure on me to…”
She cut him off, “It’s a lot of pressure on me, too, but you don’t see me giving you notes on how to be a better director.”
Gene clenched his jaw, “I beg your pardon.”
Judy rephrased herself, “You’re a great director, but lately, you’ve started acting the way you promised me you wouldn’t act.”
“Such as?” he demanded back.
“You’ve been hard on me. You’re irritable and impatient with everyone.” He opened his mouth to speak but she put her hand up, “At home, we’re drifting apart. I thought you noticed and that’s why I assumed you asked me out for a date. We haven’t gone out, we don’t spend time alone at home, and we barely even sleep in the same bed for goodness sakes.”
Gene acted like he barely listened as he pound his finger on the table now making a point himself, “I want our show to be perfect.”
Seeing that he didn’t reply to anything she said of them, she hissed, “Fine, in which case, I’ll take that note. Where did my Harry Palmer go, remember?”
Gene looked at her incredibly at the mention of his first on-screen character from their first picture.
“Or Serafin or Joe Ross…the man who would’ve risked everything for me. Who did! He risked his marriage and his career; he tossed it all against the rocks so he could be with me. Where did he go, Gene?” Her voice rose as she stood up, “Tell me where my fucking husband went!”
With that, she threw her napkin down on the table and stormed out as diners stared their way.
The next afternoon, it was past 12 when Gene finally emerged from the spare bedroom. He made his way to the kitchen where Judy was still in a bathrobe and making tea. When he walked in, looking well rested, she turned to look at him as if to see who it was, then turned back to her tea.  
“You slept late,” she said surprised.
“I guess I needed it.”
“You did.”
Gene stared at the back of her a moment as if pondering something before he walked up to her. He gave her a kiss on the cheek and placed his hand on her back, “Hi honey.”
She gave him a side eye, but her expression was soft and she didn’t nudge him away. It was good enough for him so he pulled her closer to speak softly into her ear as she stirred honey into her cup.
“Listen, I…”
Suddenly the sounds of the children piling through the front door interrupted them. Then teenage Liza came through the kitchen door.
“Hi, Papa Gene!” Liza exclaimed as she embraced him.
“Hi, baby, when did you here?”
“Yesterday afternoon.”
“How was the park?” Judy inquired.
“Good. The kids behaved themselves.”
“Went to Holmby Park again, huh?”
“Yep. Guess, what, Mama said that she’s going to do a Christmas show and that all of us can perform on there with her.”
“Oh, I know, it was my idea.”
“Was not…” Judy mumbled.
“Was so,” he repeated just the same.
Liza sensed some tension, “Ah, I’m going to make sure the kids get cleaned up,” and she quickly skedaddled out of there.
“I’m the one who mentioned it to you,” she said matter-of-factly.
“I’m the one who set up the sketch.”
“But it was my idea, Gene.”
“Okay, it your idea sweetheart. It always is,” he said quite sarcastically.
“Don’t do that,” she sighed.
“Here is my idea. At the end of the show, I want you to sing Rainbow.”
Judy looked at him to protest but he quickly stopped her, “I know you don’t like doing it much on television, but I think if you do it with the children, it will be very special.”
She gently smiled, “I like that idea.”
“Good. You know, I did a lot of thinking last night about what you said…” he trailed off.
“And?” Judy took a sip of her tea.
“And, I have been quite a jerk haven’t I?”
“I wouldn’t say that, Gene. You’re not vindictive; you’re just being too hard on everyone all of a sudden. Including me.”
Gene hung his head and nodded, “I’m sorry. I know you’re under pressure, too, but I think for me that’s the reason why I’m suddenly short with everyone.”
“Maybe you should find ways to cope with that. Start swimming again. You always did that when you were stressed.”
“I think I will.”
“And what about us?”
“I miss you, too,” is all he said as he leaned over to give her a kiss, “Can I ask my wife out for dinner and dancing tonight after the show?”
“It’s tape night. Won’t you be too tired?”
“Darling, for you, it’s worth it.”
Judy smiled as he gave her another kiss.
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herbwitchery · 5 years
Text
Unusual asks
repost @luxet
Spotify, SoundCloud, or Pandora?  Deezer
is your room messy or clean? Kind of clean. With just a little mess.
what color are your eyes? Hazel
do you like your name? why? No, it’s soooo boring and common
what is your relationship status? In a relationship
describe your personality in 3 words or less Introvert, bookworm, musicaholic 
what color hair do you have? Right now it’s red
what kind of car do you drive? color? An old Megane, grey
where do you shop? Anywhere
how would you describe your style? Indescribable. Imagine a mix between Stevie Nicks, Marilyn Manson and a pile of tartan plaids.
favorite social media Instagram 
what size bed do you have? 240
any siblings? Yep, one half-brother and one stepsister
if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why? Maybe in Scotland, for the beauty of the country (and tartan plaids) (and men wearing kilts) (and shortbread millionnaire)
favorite snapchat filter? Something ugly and silly
favorite makeup brand(s) Urban Decay
how many times a week do you shower? Every day. Sometimes twice a day.
favorite tv show? I don’t watch tv.
shoe size? 38.5 (french system)
how tall are you? 1.67 m
sandals or sneakers? Sandals
do you go to the gym? Nooooo
describe your dream date A road at night, driving without knowing where we are going
how much money do you have in your wallet at the moment? 18 €
what color socks are you wearing? pink, yellow and blue with My Little Pony nonsense on them
how many pillows do you sleep with? 2
do you have a job? what do you do? I’m a home teacher
how many friends do you have? 3
whats the worst thing you have ever done? Didn’t see something I was supposed to see
whats your favorite candle scent? Amber
3 favorite boy names Will, Ian, Duncan
3 favorite girl names Anya, Dana, Lilenka
favorite actor? I honestly don’t know. Maybe Christian Bale. 
favorite actress? Don’t know either. Sandra Bullock maybe, cause lot of her movies were my favourite when I was younger
who is your celebrity crush? I’m very unfaithful. Right now, maybe Tommy Flanagan. But who knows about tomorrow ?
favorite movie? God this is so hard to pick just one. Practical Magic maybe. 
do you read a lot? whats your favorite book? Hell yeah. Too hard to choose just one. The lord of the Rings (JRR Tolkien), Stardust (Neil Gaiman), Pet Sematary (Stephen King), L’Homme qui rit (Victor Hugo), Sillages (Renée Vivien), Dracula (Bram Stocker), Jurassic Park (Michael Crichton) ...
money or brains? Brains 
do you have any nicknames ? which ones ? I have a lot. My favourite was Cracotte (a french brand of rusks, because of my cracking joints and knuckles)
how many times have you been to the hospital? Too many times
top 10 favorite songs With no order : - Make this go on forever (Snow Patrol) - Something stupid (Frank & Nancy Sinatra) - If you have to go (Geneva) - Lullaby (The Cure) - Colorblind (Counting Crows) - How to disappear completely (Radiohead) - I do it for you (Bryan Adams) - Don’t stop (Journey) - This night (Black Lab) - Commercial for Levi (Placebo)
do you take any medications daily? Yep
what is your skin type? (oily, dry, etc) Dry and veeeery sensitive (and awfully pale)
what is your biggest fear? Amputation
how many kids do you want? Not sure I want any
whats your go to hair style? Just brush it and I’m good to go.
what type of house do you live in? (big, small, etc) Neither small nor big, with a nice garden and a cherry tree.
who is your role model? I’m not sure I have one
what was the last compliment you received? Someone told me on Instagram I was inspiring. So kind and nice.
what was the last text you sent? I asked my sister about her dogs’ health
how old were you when you found out santa wasn’t real? What do you mean by “santa wasn’t real” ?
what is your dream car? A broomstick
opinion on smoking? Yuck
do you go to college? Not anymore but I did. Twice.
what is your dream job? Writer
would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs? Rural forever
do you take shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotels? I don’t go very often to hotels but most of the time no, I brought my own
do you have freckles? Yep, especially in summertime
do you smile for pictures? Never. I have a dorky smile
how many pictures do you have on your phone? 5 573
have you ever peed in the woods? Yes sir
do you still watch cartoons? Absolutely
do you prefer chicken nuggets from Wendy’s or McDonalds? I’m a vegetarian
Favorite dipping sauce? Marmite. I know.
what do you wear to bed? A nightie, sometimes an old T-shirt when I’m sick and miserable
have you ever won a spelling bee? Yep, when I was 13.
what are your hobbies? Reading, music, horseriding, museums, cinema, poetry and osteology
can you draw? I actually can, but you can’t guess what the hell I do
do you play an instrument? Yes. I used to play the piano, now I’d rather play the guitar, ukulele and tin whistle
what was the last concert you saw? Snow Patrol
tea or coffee? Tea, even if I was addicted to coffee when I was a student
Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts? Home (we don’t have any of those where I live in)
do you want to get married? Not really
what is your crush’s first and last initial? FMT
are you going to change your last name when you get married? Nope
what color looks best on you? Green I guess
do you miss anyone right now? Yes
do you sleep with your door open or closed? Closed.
do you believe in ghosts? Yep. Maybe they’re the reason why I answered “closed” to the previous question.
what is your biggest pet peeve? Stupidity
last person you called ? One of my pupils
favorite ice cream flavor? Raspberry
regular oreos or golden oreos? I’ve never tasted golden ones. 
chocolate or rainbow sprinkles? Chocolate forever
what shirt are you wearing? A blue striped tank top
what is your phone background? Le Printemps, by Pierre-Auguste Cot, a french XIXth century painter
are you outgoing or shy? Shy. Veeeery shy.
do you like it when people play with your hair? I HATE that so much I could bite.
do you like your neighbors? I don’t really know them. They’re okay, I guess.
do you wash your face? at night? in the morning? Both
have you ever been high? No
have you ever been drunk? Yup
last thing you ate? Cheddar with Marmite spread
favorite lyrics right now Have you had enough wine (JC Stewart)
summer or winter? Autumn
day or night? Night
dark, milk, or white chocolate? Milk. But I love all of them
favorite month? October
what is your zodiac sign ? Capricorn (Scorpio rising, Virgo moon)
who was the last person you cried in front of ? My cockatiel
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buriednurbckyrd · 7 years
Text
Perfect Fit
Part 2 of my ongoing dominant!reader series.  Also available on AO3
Y/N sat in front of her mirror meticulously filling in her lips with a classic red, her eyeliner was applied to perfection.  Natasha fluffed her red hair and looked over her shoulder at Wanda who was idly flipping through a magazine, already finished getting ready.  
“Wanda, be a pal? Zip me up?”  Natasha asked.  The other woman pulled the zipper up on Nat's dress.  
“You look very beautiful,”  Wanda told her friend.  “Dr. Banner will not be able to keep his eyes off of you.”  Natasha smoothed out the black satin that hugged her curves.  
“That's the idea.”  She replied with a wink.  Wanda tugged at the hem of her dress.  It was a simple vintage inspired silhouette, intricate black lace laid over a white lining.  She was a little nervous that it was too short.  Tony Stark was throwing one of his infamous parties, this one with a black and white theme, and she had let her friends pick her outfit. Y/N was still in her dressing gown, and having finished her makeup was putting the finishing touches on her hair.  She decided to leave it down and loose, so she used a curling iron to achieve gentle waves.  “So, Y/N, are you planning to run into anyone special tonight?  Perhaps a certain… Captain?” Natasha teased.  
“I don't plan to do running of any kind.  He can come to me.”  She stood up and slipped out of her robe.  She picked up a bottle of perfume and sprayed a fragrant cloud to walk through on her way to her closet to put on her dress.  Natasha wolf whistled at her mostly naked form.  
“If he knew how small your panties were he'd beg you to skip the party.”  She called out, and Y/N chuckled in response.  
“Steve does not seem like the begging kind.”  Wanda said.  “But I am confused, did you two have a fight?”  
“Not at all,” Y/N's voice sounded from behind the closed closet door.  “He's been the perfect gentlemen.”  
“That's the problem.”  Natasha stage whispered.  
“He has taken you out for dinner several times, yes?”  Wanda asked.  
“Six times,” Y/N answered.  “Dammit, where did my shoes go?”  The two women heard her curse and rummage around her closet.  “Oh!  Found them! Anyway, we've gone out six times.  First night he kissed my hand. Next, my cheek.  Date three I kissed him and he made sure it was short and sweet.  I get it, he's from a different time, and I love how nice he is.  It's so refreshing to not have to fight off some creep's wandering hands, but Steve is not a creep and I wouldn't want to fight him off!  So I upped the ante and finally got some tongue action after date six.”  The door opened and Natasha smirked.  
“Oh I think you can count on some action tonight.”  Y/N laughed and linked arms with her two friends.  
“Ladies, let's go knock 'em dead.”  
Music was playing at a tasteful level, drinks were flowing, and guests were already dancing and mingling when Steve and Sam arrived at Tony's latest party.  Discreet wait staff made rounds with trays full of fancy finger foods.  Sam plucked a bacon wrapped scallop and shoved it in his mouth.  
“Not bad.”  He said after he swallowed.  “Stark throws a decent shindig.”  
“I'm sure his lady had a lot to do with this,”  Steve replied.  “This has her classy hands all over it.”  The two men made their way over to the host and hostess.  “Everything looks lovely, ma'am.” Steve told her and the woman thanked him and kissed his cheek.  
“Stop hitting on my girlfriend, Rogers.”  Tony joked.  “Don't you have a chick of your own, now?”  
“I doubt she would appreciate being called a 'chick', but I suppose I do.”  Steve scanned the room.  “I guess she isn't here yet.” He was mildly disappointed.  He knew she was coming, and he couldn't wait to see her again.  He thought about her all the time.  The way she smiled at him, her voice, her laugh, her eyes…  Before he could stop himself his mind filled with memories of their latest date.  When he kissed her goodnight her arms had gone around his neck, those clever fingers teased the short hair at the base of his skull, and her lips had completely undone him.  It had taken all his willpower to bid her goodnight and walk away.  He had to take a freezing cold shower when he got back to his room.  
“There's Natasha,  Wanda and Y/N can't be far behind.”  Tony's voice interrupted Steve's thoughts.  He turned and very nearly swallowed his tongue.  
“Well Tony, you've outdone yourself, which is what I'd say if I didn't know for a fact you had almost nothing to do with the plans.”  Natasha said as she strolled over.  “But you did pay for everything so I suppose you deserve some credit.”  
“Nat, you flatterer.”  Tony replied dryly.  “May I say that you ladies look absolutely ravishing?”  Steve could barely register how Natasha and Wanda looked, his eyes were solely for Y/N.  In a sea of guests dressed mostly in black with pops of white accents, she stood out in head to toe white.  The neckline plunged in a deep V, and a slit cut up to just above her knee.  When she turned, he saw that the dress was backless, save for two thin straps that criss-crossed over her skin.  It might have been risque, but on her it managed to be effortlessly sexy, leaving just enough to the imagination. The only accessory she had chosen to wear was a pearl tear drop that rested just below her collarbone.  
“Wow. Y/N, you look stunning.”  Sam took her hand and she laughed when he lead her into a twirl.  Silk flowed like water over her body.  
“Thank you, Sam.”  Her eyes flicked over to Steve and her lips curved in a seductive smile.  “You look very dashing tonight, Steve.”  He struggled to find his voice for a moment.  
“You look beautiful.”  He finally managed.  Y/N kissed his cheek.  
“Thank you.  I think I'm going to go find myself a drink.”  Wanda followed her, and Steve couldn't help watching her walk away.  
“Sam, I think you better grab a napkin before Rogers drools all over himself.”  Natasha joked.  Steve blushed and looked down at his feet.  Y/N always made him feel nervous when she was around, and he had never seen her so dressed up.  She looked glamorous and untouchable, like the women that had always intimidated him before the serum.  When he looked back up he saw her laugh with Wanda at the bar, her nose crinkled in that way that way he loved.  In that moment he knew that no matter how polished she was on the outside, on the inside she was still the funny, kind woman he was falling for. Natasha nudged him with her elbow.  “I think you should go ask the lady for a dance.”  Steve smiled at his friend left her and Sam.  
Y/N sipped her drink, Wanda had seen Vision hovering by one of the exits and left to go talk to him.  A Frank Sinatra song began to play and she hummed along.  When she felt a tap on her shoulder she turned and was relieved to see Steve. He was the only guy she wanted to approach her tonight.  
“I was wondering if you would like to dance?”  He asked.  Y/N nodded with a grin and took a last sip of her cocktail before leaving the glass on the bar.  Steve's hand went around her to rest on her lower back.  She let him lead her to the dance floor and was happy to find that he wasn't as bad a dancer that he claimed to be. He was always self deprecating when it came to his skills, telling her that Bucky had been the dance hall regular back in the 40s.  
“You've been holding out on me, Captain.”  She said.  “Any other hidden talents I should know about?”  Her mildly suggestive tone caused a pleasant heat to bloom in his lower stomach.  
“I guess you'll have to wait and see.”  Y/N's eyes widened at his flirty remark.  
“So mysterious.”  She slid her hand up his arm to rest on his shoulder.  Feeling empowered, his hand stroked down her bare skin until it rested at the small of her back.  
“You're so soft.”  He said, and cringed, feeling a little foolish.  She smiled and leaned up to peck a kiss to his lips.  
“You don't ever have to second guess with me, Steve.  I like you even when you think you're being awkward.”
“Is it that obvious?”  
“Just a little,” her eyes lit up with humor.  “But you should know that I'm totally smitten with you.”  Steve grinned.
“Smitten? Do people still say that?”  
“If they don't, they should.  It's a very good word.”
“In that case, I'm pretty smitten with you too.”  Y/N giggled.  He decided it was one of his top five favorite sounds.  
“I'm relieved to hear that.  I would have been so disappointed if this dress had gone to waste on a man that wasn't interested.”  
“I was interested before the dress, but if I'm being completely honest,” He looked into her eyes.  “You took my breath away when you walked in here tonight.”  She saw the spark of lust in his expression.  
“I really hope I'm not reading this wrong.”  Her arms went around his neck and she kissed him again.  She heard him make a pleased sound low in his throat and it gave her all the encouragement she needed. She nipped at his bottom lip, licked against his tongue when his lips parted in surprise.  The two broke apart when they heard Tony wolf whistle.  
“Perhaps it's time we moved to a less public location?”  Steve said.  Y/N smirked.  “What?”  
“Natasha was wrong.  She thought I would need to describe my underwear to you before you'd want to skip the party.”  Steve swallowed hard.  
“Well, if you wanted to I guess it would be rude to stop you.”  She laughed and tugged at his his tie, pulling his head down.  He shivered when her lips grazed his ear.
“I would have to still be wearing them to describe them to you.”  His breath hitched and he grabbed her hand.  As she was led out of the party Natasha shot Y/N a thumbs up.
“Wait! Steve I'm going to fall off my shoes!”  Y/N giggled and stopped to slip out of her heels.  They had given her an extra four inches of height, but they weren't made for running down dimly lit hallways. Or anywhere, really.  When they reached the elevator they paused again.  Steve looked a little nervous again.
“Um, where should we…  Who's room…?”  Y/N silenced him with a passionate kiss.  
“FRIDAY? Take us to my room, please.” Her delicate fingers began undoing his tie and unbuttoning his shirt.  She trailed her fingers down his chest and stomach.  Every one of his muscles twitched at her touch.  “Mmm.  Very responsive, aren't you?”  The elevator dinged and she gently pulled him out and towards her room.  
Finally finding himself in her space, Steve looked around her room.  It was very her; mostly tidy, feminine, and comfortable.  His heart raced when she pushed his shirt off, but he was with her and that soothed his nerves.  Until she started pulling him towards her bed.  
“Uh, Y-Y/N...” He stuttered.  She dropped her hands immediately and stepped back, her face full of concern.
“Too fast?  I'm sorry, Steve.”  
“N-no. Perfect speed, really.  It's just...”  He rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed.  
“Hey, just tell me.”  She sat down and patted the bed next to her.  
“I haven't been with many women,” He admitted.  “And it seems like when I get to this point, they expect me to…  Take charge.”  Y/N nodded in understanding.  “Like I'm the same guy I am in the super suit, you know?  But that's not me.”  The tips of his ears burned bright red.  Y/N cupped her hand around his cheek and turned him to face her.  
“I'm not really a lie down and take it kind of girl, sweetie.” Her tone sent excited tingles through his body.  “If I'm understanding correctly, you want the woman to take the reins?”  Steve bit his lip and nodded.  Y/N's lips curved into a seductive grin.  “Oh, I think I can do that, Captain.”  She reached over and unbuckled his belt.  He was already hardening in his slacks, and it thrilled her.  With one swift motion she pulled the belt off and snapped it playfully. The sound both startled him and fueled his arousal.  “That was an interesting reaction,”  She tapped the leather against her palm. “But we don't want to start off too big, do we?  We have to leave something to explore later.”  Relief mingled with slight disappointment.  
“May I touch you?”  He asked in a rough voice.  Y/N smiled and took one of his hands, laying it over one of her silk covered breasts.  Steve moaned and rubbed his thumb over her nipple.  He sucked in his breath as she undid his pants, sighed when the pressure eased on his erection.  
“Lay back.”  She told him softly.  He followed her direction and made himself comfortable.  Steve had no idea watching a woman remove his shoes and socks could be a turn on, but watching her undress him in that seemingly innocent way, her eyes darkened with lust gazing up at him, was absolutely electrifying.  Y/N ran her hands up his legs.   His eyes closed when she grazed his cock and he was mildly disappointed when she didn't pay more attention to it.  “These need to come off.”  She started pulling his pants down his hips, and he shifted to help her work them down his legs.  He was now more than half naked, and she was still standing in her dress.  
“Are you going to…?”  He mimed pulling clothing over his head.  She chuckled and pushed the tiny straps down her arms.  
“It actually goes the other way.”  She said, and the silk slid down her body and pooled at her feet.  Steve couldn't have taken his eyes off of her if his life had depended on it.  
“Wow.” Y/N straddled his hips and leaned down to kiss him.  She hummed in approval when his arms went around her and his hands stroked down her back.  She pulled away from his lips but peppered his neck with licks and little nibbles.  When she found a particularly sensitive patch of skin she spent a few moments lavishing attention on the spot until he thought he would come apart at the seams.  His heart beat wildly in his chest when her exploration moved lower.  Tongue and teeth found one of his nipples and he arched in surprise.  “I didn't think guys liked that.”  He said.  Y/N looked up at him and grinned.  
“Everyone's different.  Looks like you do, though.”  
“Yes.” At this point he wasn't sure there was anything she could do that he wouldn't like.  She gently bit down and soothed the ache with a swipe of her tongue. “Oh, shit.”  He heard a quiet laugh and she eased her way down his body.  His stomach quivered under her mouth and hands and his dick throbbed in anticipation.  Y/N straightened and sat back on his thighs.  Steve was a flushed, writhing mess.  His normally neatly combed hair was thoroughly mussed and his lips were slightly swollen from him biting them.  
“Gorgeous,” she purred.  “I could spend hours taking you apart.  Find every single spot on your body that brings you pleasure.”  She rolled her hips against him and he moaned.  “Learn how to keep you right on the edge until your only coherent thought is release.  You'll beg for it.”
“Y/N!” He yelped as she stuck her hand inside his boxers.  She swirled her thumb over the dripping head, teasing him.  
“I admit I'm a little impatient tonight, so we'll just have to imagine that for now.  Right now I'm dying to get my mouth on you.”  A vague, confused thought floated around his mind, she had already had her mouth on him.  When she yanked down his underwear and her lips closed around him it became stunningly clear for him.  
“Oh, ohhhhh...”  He groaned and propped himself up on his elbows to watch.  She sucked at the head at first and then traced the tip of her tongue up and down the prominent vein along the length.  With a wicked grin she suddenly swallowed him down to the root, her eyes never leaving his.  When her throat constricted around him, his vision grew dark around the edges and he collapsed back with a loud moan.  “I'm so close.” He choked out and she just hummed around him.  The vibrations pushed him closer to the brink.  “Please don't stop, oh fuck...”  She swallowed again and he was lost.  He cried out her name while she sucked and licked him through his climax until it was overwhelming.  Before his brain cleared her dripping core was hovering over his face.  
“While we wait and see what kind of refractory period a super solider has, why don't you return the favor and get me ready for the main event.” Steve gripped her hips and pulled her down, plunging his tongue into her heat.  Y/N let out a long moan.  What he lacked in experience he made up for in enthusiasm.  He wasn't a total novice, and knew the basics.  His mouth had her worked up faster than she expected and she was soon just as desperate as he was.  “Oh, Steve.  I need you to lick my clit, come on babe, make me come.”  He grunted and swiped his tongue over the little nub. Her legs trembled and she was thankful that his arms were holding her up.  “Right there, yes!”  The orgasm ripped through her like a hurricane.  When she couldn't tolerate anymore of his touch she pulled away and laid down next to him, needing to catch her breath.  
“That was…  Wow.”  Y/N laughed weakly and rolled over, throwing her arm over his chest.  She tasted herself on his lips when she kissed him.
“And we're not even done yet.”  She said and slid her hand down his body, very happy to find him already semi erect again.  “I think this is my favorite super solider perk.”  His laugh quickly turned to a moan while her hand stroked him to full hardness.  “I can't wait to ride this.”  She breathed in his ear and he shivered. She swung her leg over him and rubbed herself against his cock. With her free hand she pushed his arms over his head and pinned his wrists.  “We both know you could overpower me in about three seconds,” she said.  “But you're going to be good and pretend you can't, right?”  When he only nodded she squeezed his dick, not enough to hurt, just hard enough to get his attention.  “What was that?”
“Y-yes ma'am.”  
“Shit, why did that sound so damn hot?”  She slowly sank down on his length and heard him whimper.  “You fill me up perfectly.” She rolled her hips, feeling him pulse inside of her.  With one hand still holding his wrists, she placed the other one on his chest for leverage and began a slow pace.  The drag of his cock against her walls was exquisite, like he had been made to fit inside of her.  
“Y/N, oh please...”  He didn't know what he was asking for, just that she felt like heaven around him and he needed more.  She sped up, rotating her hips on the down stroke.  Steve felt his eyes roll back into his head.  Even though she had already brought him to orgasm he was afraid he wouldn't last much longer.  Everything with her was so intense, and he felt the pleasure build in his groin.  “Doll, I'm close again.”  He warned.  She leaned down and gave him a filthy kiss.  
“Don't move.”  She ordered and took her hand away from his wrists.  She sat up and continued to ride him, moving faster.  With one hand she cupped her own breast and rolled her nipple in her fingers, with her other she pressed against her clit.  The visual of her touching herself while she rode his cock was the final push he needed.  With a sound that bordered on a yell his body was overcome.  A few more thrusts and just the right pressure on that little bundle of nerves she followed him seconds later.  She convulsed around him, milking every last bit of pleasure out of him.  Still panting from her climax, she gently slid off of him and curled into his side.  She stroked a hand over his damp skin in a tender gesture.  For all the dominance she demonstrated it seemed that she craved to be held after being in control.  Steve pulled her in close and pressed gentle kisses to her face.  
“You are amazing.”  He murmured and tucked her hair behind her ear.  Y/N kissed him softly.
“Thank you, Captain.”  
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rpf-bat · 8 years
Text
Dolls Are The Last Ones To Mate
Pairing: Gerard Way x Reader
Genre: Fluff, Comedy
Summary: Request fic for @thestarryknightsky. “THEY MAKE VINYL POP FIGURINES OF MCR and also is it okay if I request a Gerard or Frank x reader where reader buys one and they find it and it's just their reactions and stuff?”
You were in the middle of your third date with the Gerard Way. Part of you still couldn’t believe you’d even met him, let alone gotten him to go out with you. You felt like the luckiest person in the world.
You two had gone out for a nice dinner at an Italian restaurant, had a lot of great conversation and great food. Now, you were kissing passionately on your front porch, not quite wanting to say goodnight just yet. Gerard pressed you against your front door, and your fingers tangled into his long, black hair as his tongue found its way into your mouth.
“You wanna come upstairs for a little bit, baby?” you asked breathlessly.
“Oh, hell yes,” Gerard purred. You unlocked your door and led him by the hand up the stairs, into your bedroom. You kissed in the doorway for several minutes, running your hands over his lithe, slim body. Fuck, he was so hot.
He picked you up in his surprisingly strong arms and laid you gently down on your bed. You kissed at his neck, fingers working at the buttons on his shirt collar. Then, suddenly, he froze, eyes falling on something on your nightstand.
“Is that….me?!” he gaped.
Oh, fuck, you thought mortified, and realized that your Funko Pop ™ Revenge Gerard figurine was still sitting right there, next to your alarm clock.
You’d taken all the My Chemical Romance posters off your walls a few days ago, when it first occurred to you that Gerard might be coming over to your place. You’d hid scores of MCR and Hesitant Alien merch in your closet, because the last thing you wanted to do was seem like some crazed fangirl, or groupie, who was only interested in sleeping with him because he was famous.
Fuck, you thought again, embarrassed. What if now he thought you were one of those Ebony Dark’ness type girls, who were all like omg I want to marry Gerard and have his babiez!11!?
Gerard looked down at your red face, as if amused. “You think it’s a good likeness of me?” he asked, sitting up and picking up the figurine to scrutinize it more closely.
“….I think it is,” he continued when you were too humiliated to reply. “Look, it’s even got the little armband, and the bat belt.”
“I know,” you admitted finally, still not looking him in the eye. “I have the version with the red eye makeup, too…..”
Gerard laughed.
“Don’t make fun of me!” you pleaded.
“I’m not making fun of you,” Gerard said gently. “C’mon, Y/N, look at me.” He scooped you back into his arms, and gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. He kissed you softly.
“I think it’s adorable,” Gerard said honestly. “I’m flattered that you like me so much you got my action figure.”
“……I also have the Black Parade one,” you confessed, cheeks still burning.
“So,” Gerard smirked, “I’m thinking, maybe, perhaps, you must be just a little into my old band?”
“Shut up,” you said, playfully smacking him on the shoulder. He laughed again.
“You could’ve told me you were a fan,” he shrugged. “I don’t mind.”
“Really?” you asked hesitantly.
“What, do you think I want the person I’m dating to hate the music I make?” Gerard wondered.
“I guess you have a point,” you said sheepishly.
“Was Revenge your favorite My Chem album?” Gerard asked curiously.
“I think it’s absolutely amazing,” you confessed. “I honestly think it saved my life when I was a teenager.”
“That honestly makes me really happy,” Gerard said seriously. “I’m touched that I could have such an impact on your life, before I even got to meet you.”
“I just didn’t want you to be creeped out,” you mumbled. “To think I was some kind of obsessive stalker, because I loved you before I even talked to you for the first time.”
“Honestly, I think that’s kind of romantic,” Gerard smiled. “Like, it warms my heart that I’ve meant so much to you, for so long.”
“You really do,” you said sincerely, and kissed him again.
“So, you thought I was hot in Revenge era, huh?” he teased.
“Yeah,” you grinned, giving him another kiss. “That’s why I love that you’re growing your hair out again, like you did back then.” You ran your fingers through his dark locks, licking your lips.
“Now that that’s settled,” he flirted, “mind if we get back to what we were doing before?”
“As long as you don’t mind if Little You watches,” you joked, and sank back down on your bed with him, ready to see if teenage fantasies matched up with reality.
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peaceful-serenade · 7 years
Note
1-100 ❤️❤️❤️
Thank you, dear! ❤️❤️❤️
Spotify, SoundCloud, or Pandora? Spotify
is your room messy or clean? It’s actually clean right now.
what color are your eyes? Brown
do you like your name? why? Not really. Like, it sounds pretty and fitting when I meet other people with it, but for me personally it always just sounds kind of “meh” and boring compared to other names that I love.
what is your relationship status? Single for life.
describe your personality in 3 words or less: caring, introspective, loyal
what color hair do you have? Red
what kind of car do you drive? color? It’s blue and has two doors. That’s literally all I can tell you about it because I honestly don’t pay much attention.
where do you shop? Nowhere in particular.
how would you describe your style? Ideally, classic and comfortable
favorite social media account? Tumblr
what size bed do you have? Twin
any siblings? Yes, one younger sister
if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why? Paris, because I’ve visited twice and absolutely adore it.
favorite snapchat filter? There was a black and white one ages ago that made me look like I was in a film noir, so that one.
favorite makeup brand(s): I don’t really wear makeup anymore and never had a favorite anyways, so I don’t know.
how many times a week do you shower? It kind of varies.
favorite tv show? Brooklyn 99!! I also love Graham Norton, Broadchurch, Good Behavior, Victoria, and Trial & Error
shoe size? I honestly have no idea.
how tall are you? 5′5″
sandals or sneakers? Sneakers
do you go to the gym? No
describe your dream date: I don’t know about specifics, but my dream date would go well and we would laugh a lot. Maybe over coffee or while doing some fun activity.
how much money do you have in your wallet at the moment? I think I have like $80 right now?
what color socks are you wearing? I’m not wearing socks.
how many pillows do you sleep with? One, usually. Sometimes two.
do you have a job? what do you do? Not currently.
how many friends do you have? I have Laurel and maybe 3 or 4 other people who would talk to me if I texted them. I don’t really have any friends right now, though.
whats the worst thing you have ever done? I’ve done a lot of horrible things that I still cringe over and regret, but I can’t think of what the worst is.
whats your favorite candle scent? There was an apple pie candle that I used around Christmas that I really loved, but I don’t really have a favorite.
3 favorite boy names: Daniel, William, Damon
3 favorite girl names: Katherine, Elizabeth, Charlotte
favorite actor? Cary Grant, William Powell, David Tennant
favorite actress? Myrna Loy, Audrey Hepburn, Barbara Stanwyck, Jenna Coleman, Keira Knightley, Viola Davis
who is your celebrity crush? Andy Samberg. I specifically put off watching B99 for years because he’s so my type™ that I just knew it would happen but I finally gave in a few months ago and there’s no going back now.
favorite movie? The Thin Man, Roman Holiday, Hidden Figures, Hannibal, The Big Sleep, Angels & Demons, Libeled Lady
do you read a lot? whats your favorite book? I’m trying to read more often but my favorite is still “The Sky is Everywhere” by Jandy Nelson followed by anything by the Brontë sisters.
money or brains? Brains
do you have a nickname? what is it? Nic
how many times have you been to the hospital? For myself, zero. To see other people, only two or three times.
top 10 favorite songs: La vie en rose - Edith Piaf, Moon River - Audrey Hepburn/Henry Mancini, In the Grey - The Good Mad, Volare - Dean Martin, Me & the Rhythm - Selena Gomez, Cheek to Cheek, The Lady is a Tramp - Frank Sinatra, White Coats - Foxes, Leaving the City - Joanna Newsom, Into You - Ariana Grande
do you take any medications daily? No
what is your skin type? (oily, dry, etc) Depends on the weather, but it’s mostly oily.
what is your biggest fear? Being unhappy forever.
how many kids do you want? Zero
whats your go to hair style? Lately, a braid or bun.
what type of house do you live in? (big, small, etc) Big? It’s two stories and we don’t use half of it, hence why my mom wants to move.
who is your role model? Selena Gomez
what was the last compliment you received? No idea
what was the last text you sent? I’m too lazy to check, idk
how old were you when you found out santa wasn’t real? I can’t even remember. Probably around second grade?
what is your dream car? I literally could not care less.
opinion on smoking? I personally have no interest but you do you.
do you go to college? I did for a quarter and a half before dropping out because I was miserable.
what is your dream job? No idea
would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs? Either is fine
do you take shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotels? It depends on where the hotel is (cool city, etc), usually, but yes.
do you have freckles? Yes
do you smile for pictures? Yes
how many pictures do you have on your phone? Thousands. Way, way, waaaaay too many.
have you ever peed in the woods? Maybe on a roadtrip as a kid?
do you still watch cartoons? No
do you prefer chicken nuggets from Wendy’s or McDonalds? Neither
Favorite dipping sauce? Honey mustard
what do you wear to bed? Sweatpants or pajama bottoms and whatever top I feel like wearing
have you ever won a spelling bee? I’ve never participated in one
what are your hobbies? Baking, watching TV? I want to take up painting.
can you draw? Somewhat
do you play an instrument? I played flute in middle school band, but no.
what was the last concert you saw? Selena Gomez last May
tea or coffee? Coffee
Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts? Starbucks
do you want to get married? Maybe
what is your crush’s first and last initial? I don’t have one
are you going to change your last name when you get married? Maybe? My last name is weird so if it sounds cooler then definitely.
what color looks best on you? Blue or purple usually? I don’t know
do you miss anyone right now? Yeah
do you sleep with your door open or closed? Closed
do you believe in ghosts? Not really
what is your biggest pet peeve? People who are rude, especially to waiters and customer service-type people.
last person you called: My grandparents.
favorite ice cream flavor? Vanilla, red velvet cake, or salted caramel
regular oreos or golden oreos? Regular
chocolate or rainbow sprinkles? I don’t really have a preference.
what shirt are you wearing? A white t-shirt with Audrey Hepburn on it.
what is your phone background? A painting of some flowers.
are you outgoing or shy? Usually shy.
do you like it when people play with your hair? Yeah
do you like your neighbors? I like one of them, but I don’t really know any of the others. The one I like and know has lived two doors down almost as long as we’ve been in our house, but everyone else that we used to be friends with has moved.
do you wash your face? at night? in the morning? Yes, but infrequently just because I’m super lazy. My skin definitely pays the price for that.
have you ever been high?  No
have you ever been drunk? No
last thing you ate? A donut.
favorite lyrics right now: The entirety of Moon River, probably. I rewatched Breakfast at Tiffany’s again last night so it’s been stuck in my head all day.
summer or winter? Summer
day or night? Night
dark, milk, or white chocolate? Dark or milk
favorite month? June/July or December, I think.
what is your zodiac sign? Aries
who was the last person you cried in front of? My mom and sister, but it was laugh-crying.
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kritikalkam · 7 years
Text
The Black Body
Some would say that hip-hop has lost its power to educate, influence, and reflect today’s society. I would argue that 2016 has been an extraordinary year for the revitalization of black music. Artists such as Frank Ocean and Boogie have encapsulated their identity and their reality of their black bodies. In their music videos, these artists have produced visuals to showcase the destruction, emasculation, and alienation of the black body.
Although I can’t say Frank Ocean is my absolute favorite artist, he is very high on my totem pole for a number of reasons. Frank is iconic for being one of the first openly queer hip-hop artists. I have a special connection to him because we were raised in the same neighborhood, have mutual friends, and similar creative taste. Not to mention we are both black and gay. Even though I never met him, I’ve been convinced that he, in fact, is my soulmate. Many appreciators like myself fell off Frank’s bandwagon after he went on a three-year hiatus without releasing any music. Many people speculated that this was due to contractual ties in the music industry. Frank’s gravely anticipated album Blonde was released in August 2016 along with his magazine Boys Don’t Cry. The hit track Nikes was accompanied by a music video with visuals so stunning, I had to take some time away from it to digest and process. Ocean struck an emotional chord with me that I wasn’t ready to feel- a gift that I wouldn’t unbox. Frank challenges black male hypermasculinity by presenting himself as himself.
The music video opens with three seconds of silence. The first visual is of what appears to be a red lens flare. The flare reveals a stage with production equipment in the background while a shadowed hand hangs from screen left. To me, it looks like a hand was covering the lens of the camera, and once the hand moved far enough for the camera to focus, we can assume that the hand belongs to Frank. I believe it is Frank’s hand that invites us to his world. The camera cuts to a medium shot of Frank Ocean. This is the first time we see him since his sabbatical. He appears to be mystical as his face waves in and out of the light. Frank stands with his head down while wearing a pearled white jumpsuit. Frank’s skin was sprinkled with glitter that sparkled in the light. I immediately thought of Liberace-  the flamboyant white pianist. Liberace was someone who was unapologetically himself. The moment I saw Frank achieve this level of bravery, this status of openness, I pitied myself with envy. Hip-hop artist and rappers aren’t associated with words like white, flamboyant, or even pianist, and in two seconds Frank Ocean made those worlds collide yet he stands there with his head down. We then get a wide shot of him and realize that this isn’t a private moment between us, he’s on a stage. Frank’s head is now raised, and he looks directly into the camera (at us). This scene is cut to and from throughout the music video. It stands out to me because I'm not used to seeing a black male body in a feminine way.
In the following scene, we’re introduced to Frank in a more familiar environment. He sits in a dark lit park surrounded by exotic cars wearing winged eyeliner. Frank announces “I have two versions.” His image on camera splits, and we then see two Frank Ocean’s. The version on the right is more of a close up of Frank he drinks from a white styrofoam cup. There’s a cherry blossom in the background and the number 40. This version of Frank seems to be the most real version of him. He appears to be intoxicated with, the cherry blossom nods to sexuality and the cars represent masculinity.
There’s a scene in Nikes were an almost androgynous bald female black body lies in a pool of cash money. This shot references American Beauty where a young girl is covered in rose petals. The camera looks down from about the model. The body glistens in the light, but the face is emotionless. This sequence sexualizes the dollar bills, as if reaching this status of wealth is sexy, but the money isn’t enough to make her happy.
The camera cuts to another body that lies amongst the female body. We know that the body is of a black male because the nipples are not covered. The black male body is Frank, and his skin appears to be soft, smooth, and supple. He wears bright red acrylic nails that help sell his androgyny. Then the scene begins to cut back and forth between the two bodies making it hard to decipher who is who. This scene blends the images of male and female black body making the similarities more apparent. This questions is the female body masculine or is the male body feminine. Frank masters gender fluidity. In the midst of the song, Frank pays homage to black bodies that we’ve lost that he is connected to. In this scene, Frank is at a party. While everyone around him is in movement, dancing, he stands still. He tributes this moment ASAP Yams and Pimp C who have died from an overdose. Frank then hold a photo of Trayvon Martin, a young black teenager who was slain in the streets for wearing a hoodie. Then he prays “R.I.P Trayvon that nigga looks just like me.” This scene, in particular, made me cry. I too look just like Trayvon. My parents always warn that he could have been me.
One of the last scenes of the music video is with Frank driving a car. He appears to be going at high speed. Frank wears makeup, eyeliner, and mascara in particular and cries. In this scene Frank is sensitive, he defies his masculinity allowing himself to cry, to be emotional, to be queer,  to be human, even though Boys Don’t Cry.
Just a few weeks ago a friend of mine showed me a music video entitled Nigga Needs by Boogie from the album Thirst 48 Part II. The album title itself references one of America’s favorite tv shows The First 48, a series that focus on the first 48 hours after a homicide. I watched reluctantly only to realize that I may have found one of my favorite music videos of all time. In this music video, the artist boogie uses his body as a piece of art.
The music video opens with the image of two figures who appear to be black males. We aren’t close enough to truly identify what is happening. The two black male bodies are wearing black and white. They are in a white room with white light and two white pedestals. One black body appears to be on the ground floor while the other is standing on a pedestal turned away.
The camera cuts to a close up of the black male body on the ground floor. This is Boogie! Boogie is staring at up something offscreen left. His eyes are in awe, his facial expression shows some kind of hunger or want. In the next shot, Boogie is seen climbing up the pedestal. He has no help reaching this high heigh. He literally pulls himself up by his own strength.
Boogie has made it to the top of the pedestal but his what shirt is now drenched in blood. Although he has reached the high that he looked up to he still looks high above. Finally, Boogie notices that he has injured himself along the way. He raises his bloodied shirt to find a bullet hole in his abdomen. Boogie then begins to rap. He talks about what he has had to do to get to where he is. Boogies body is well built. He has smooth skin and an athletic abdomen. Although this image should be disturbing, the fatality, brutality, and destruction of a black body are not camera shy in media. Boogie raps about stereotypes of being a rapper and a black man.
Our view of Boogie is interrupted when a man passes by the camera. Boogie doesn’t seem to notice. He holds his shirt high for his wounds to be seen as he talks about his life. There is a white man in the white room while this black body stands on the white pedestal talking about problems he faces in his black body. We soon find that the white man isn’t the only person in the room. White people watch in amazement as Boogie bleeds and explains poverty in economically deprived areas.  
The camera finally cuts to the second miniature black body we first saw. This is another Boogie with a black who is holding a baby. Boogie has been beaten yet he stands alone to raise a child that is sleeping. The child remains asleep during the entire video due to Boogies care. A white man looks very carefully and hardly a Boogie father the child- as if he can’t believe his eyes (he wears glasses).
By the end of the song, Boogie has lost the attention of his white audience. The woman who was once perplexed by his nature is now on her phone. Other white viewers walk around the gallery looking for whatever’s next as Boogie bleeds to dies.
In 2016, Frank Ocean and Boogie have used their bodies to connect and inform the community about hybridity, cultural identity, and cultural crisis. Frank Ocean’s Nikes is a complex masterpiece laden with symbols, nostalgia, and sexual cues. Boogie’s Nigga Needs was much more upfront about its message. Boogie is candid in the way that he explains why he bleeds for America. Both of these artists have informed their audiences about the condition of the black body through visual representation.
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