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#sing steff
itneedsmoregays · 4 months
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Break a leg
Johnny: We're on next!
Buster: Break a leg, Nooshy!
Nooshy: You what?! Don't you want this scene to go off without a hitch?!
Buster: Oh, no, no, you see, in the theatre, it's considered bad luck to say "good luck" to the performers. So instead, we say "break a leg" before they go onstage.
Nooshy: Oh. Alright then, thanks. (runs onstage with Johnny)
Steff: Wait a second, was her shoelace untied?
(later)
Nooshy: (chasing Buster on crutches) MOON! YOU DID THIS TO ME!
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ellameloetta · 11 months
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commission piece for @itneedsmoregays! just in time for pride month💞💞💞
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gretavangroupie · 3 months
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Enrapture
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Word count: 13.2k
Pairing: Daniel Wagner x Female Reader
Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking. Smut: Kissing, Touching, Oral M!Receiving, Fingering, Oral F!Receiving, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Biting, Spanking, Blood, Blood Play, Cum Play, Unprotected Sex, Rough Sex. Fluff.
A/N: Hey! Welcome back for the second installment of the four part Valentine's Day Mini Series I've been working on along with my best pal, @sacredstarcatcher! We've had so much fun writing these, and we hope that you enjoy Daniel's story! There's only two left now, and we can't wait to share them with you! See you real soon!
You’ve been waiting for this night for weeks, marking off the days on your calendar with a pink highlighter since the end of December. You got the call and immediately said yes, not even taking into consideration the day. It wasn’t hard to get the rest of your band mates to agree to it, only one of them even in a relationship. February 14th was really just another day, and tonight your band was set to play. 
It took some careful convincing but everyone knew that opening for The Foxies would be, to date, your biggest opportunity yet. You put the finishing touches on your outfit, waiting for the rest of the band to pick you up in the van. You zipped your black chelsea boots, and straightened your black lace corset top against your jeans as you fluffed your fingers through your freshly blown out hair. You gave yourself a look in the mirror one last time, the shine of your lip gloss catching in the bathroom light. 
The time on the clock is quickly ticking by, and you’re starting to get nervous that it's well past your pick up time. Thankful that they already have your guitar in the van, you know that as soon as they pull up you will be jumping inside as the van continues to roll. 
About fifteen minutes and a few anxious walks around your living room later, you hear the horn honking outside. You grab your coat and your keys and dash out the door, sending a quick text to your friend letting her know you’re running late. 
“Late to our biggest gig yet?! This looks bad, guys.” you screech, slamming the door shut behind you. 
“Chill, we'll make it. Van wouldn’t start, but she's runnin’ now.” Carter barks from the front seat, patting his hand on the dashboard. You roll your eyes and buckle your seat belt, listening to them chatter as you anxiously await your arrival. 
Rushing down the basement steps with your gear, you wade through the decently sized crowd making your way to the side of the stage. You can tell the opening band is almost finished and you rip your guitar case open to check the tuning. 
From the corner of your eye you see your best friend sauntering up to you, camera in hand just like she promised. You try to give her the quick rundown of the set so she can plan her shots but you can tell her head is elsewhere as she peers over her shoulder scanning the crowd. You wonder if it has anything to do with the boy she was talking to as you walked in. 
“Foxtrot, you’re up!” you hear the coordinator shout, and you know it’s time to take the stage. You throw your arms around your friend's neck, kissing her cheek and taking your leave for the stage. “Wish us luck! Make sure you get my good side!” 
With your guitar slung around your shoulder, you wait for Carter to cue you in on the drums, ready to play to this rowdy crowd in front of you. Your eyes scan the audience as Steff starts to sing, spotting a few familiar t-shirts with your band logo on them. A smile crosses your face as you enter in on the next song, seeing your friend down below you as she works her away across the stage snapping photos you hope to use for the band's socials. Your fingers are dancing along the frets, keeping perfect time with the drums and bass as you look out into the crowd again.
When your eyes sweep the room you notice a guy leaning against the brick wall, drinking from a beer can as he nods his head along in time with the music. His eyes are on you, dark and piercing. His dark curly hair frames his face beneath his hat, turned backwards of course in the darkness of the room. You see a smirk pull across his lips as you make eye contact, and you feel yourself blushing so you look away. 
You wish that you hadn’t abandoned his gaze when you look away and spot your ex on the other side of the room, about four rows back, with his eyes on you. You knew there was a chance he would be here. You’d been dodging his calls for weeks, and rightfully so. He betrayed your trust and that was that. You didn’t have time for the back and forth, and to be honest, he wasn’t what he portrayed himself to be anyways. You cut your losses and you have been significantly happier since. As he stands here in front of you, you feel a sense of dread wash over you, knowing this is an issue you’ll have to deal with after the set, on Valentine’s day no less. 
Your attention is snapped away from him, watching as your friend and her camera go flying over a rogue cord on the ground. With her eye to the lens she missed it, tumbling into the hands of a familiar stranger. You laugh under your breath, working your way into the next song, and letting your eyes flick back to your curly haired admirer. 
You’re pretty sure you know who he is, his appearance definitely fits the description, though you didn’t realize how cute he would be in person. He was known to pop up at these shows, always looking for the next great thing, adding names to his ever expanding catalog of local bands. You hadn’t come across him at any of your gigs yet, but it looked like tonight was your lucky night. 
After the show you find yourself accepting compliment after compliment, hugs and encouraging words coming from almost every familiar face in the crowd. Between conversations, you try to make your way to the kitchen for at least some water, but for a solid 10 minutes, you’re stuck hosting a receiving line.
As anticipated, your ex makes his way towards you. He’s got a look on his face that tells you he’s had a few drinks and that doesn’t bode well for you.
“Look at you,” he coos, physically pulling you in for a hug with a hand around your upper back. You grimace, politely accepting the inappropriate greeting. “Gotta admit, it’s pretty cool to see my girl up there knowing she’s–”
“Not your girl.” you say, immediately cutting him off. “Thanks for coming.” You try to get away but he grabs your forearm and makes it difficult.
“Hey hey hey, what’s the ruuush?” he slurs, stepping into your line of sight again. “You can’t still be mad.”
“I’m not mad, I just don’t want anything to do with you.” You try to pull yourself out of his predatory grasp but he’s effectively cornering you. 
“I miss you, baby. Look at me and tell me you don’t think about me. Something deep down in there still wants me.” he says, poking you gently in the chest. 
“Fuck off, Brent.” You snap, shooting him a look that could kill. Right as the tension bubbles over, you feel a warm hand on the back of your neck. 
“Hey, got you that drink you wanted.” Turning to look over your shoulder, you’re met with the same pair of striking, dark eyes that were watching you from the back during your performance. 
Brent immediately looks disgruntled, sizing up the tall stranger who is placing his arm around you. 
“Do I know you?” Brent asks.
“Oh, hey, names Danny. Nice to meet you.” He lifts his arm back over your head, then offers his hand to Brent for a sarcastic handshake. You watch the two interact with wide eyes and realize that this Danny character noticed you were in distress and decided to step in. 
“Didn’t think I needed to introduce myself, sorry about that. Most people here have at least some idea who I am.” You turn to look up at him, a little dumbfounded at the way he’s radiating smug confidence strong enough to disarm your asshole ex. 
Brent gives a few slow nods as his eyes move between the two of you. He seems to put the pieces together, deciding to take his leave.
“I’ll see you around,” Brent says to you with a terse smile, pushing his way through the crowd and out of sight. Once he’s gone, you turn to fully face your savior, giving him a relieved smile. 
You had heard about Danny Wagner. Drummer, Nashville local, party boy, general good time. He’s a little too famous to be at a show like this, so you can’t help but ask him why.
“Thanks for stepping in. I could have handled it, but… you really expedited it. So thanks.” You say, a little guarded, but appreciative nonetheless. 
“He seemed like a real prick, and I had been waiting to come over and introduce myself anyway.” Danny says, his smile sweet and disarming, but you’re not going to let yourself fall into the trap you know many women have fallen into before.
“I thought you didn’t need to?” you quip boldly, opening the beer he handed you. 
“Well, do I?” he responds quickly, laughing softly.
“It’s only polite…” you muse.
“Daniel Wagner. I really liked your set.” he says, tipping the bottle of beer back and licking his lips clean after he takes a sip. 
“That’s very kind.” you say, polite, but a little cold. Your eyes scan the room quickly, a little concerned about what others may think looking at this conversation from the outside. Danny’s reputation is less than great, and you wouldn’t want anyone attributing the slight amount of success you would say tonight was to him. 
“Can I ask what you’re doing at a basement show, though?” you prod, giving him a bit of a suspicious look. He takes it in stride, his confidence never faltering. 
“I was supposed to be on my way to New York, but due to some…unforeseen circumstances, I found myself at home on Valentine’s day. Seeing as most restaurants are booked, bars are full of schmucks on dates, and all that… I figured I would drop in. Stay up to date on the local music scene. You know.”
You raise your brows at him. You actually don’t know, so you crack a smile. 
“I see. How kind of you to grace us with your presence.” you snark, trying to suppress a grin.
Danny lets out a big laugh at that, almost choking on his beer. You laugh along, glad he’s not too offended. There’s no way he hadn’t heard the murmurings about him, so it’s nice to see he’s a good sport. 
“I’m gonna–” You start to tell him you have to go load up your equipment when you’re interrupted by a random voice.
“Hey! Can we get a picture?” 
That’s your cue. You sneak away towards the stage, starting to pack up alongside your bandmates. Every few minutes, you glance back towards Danny, caught up with some excited fans. It’s not that you’re avoiding him, because if you’re being honest, there’s something about him that’s drawing you in. It’s the gnawing worry at the back of your mind that’s telling you to tread lightly.
Crouching down, you peel up the tape from the makeshift stage. As you stand and follow the trail, pulling it from the floor, you’re brought to a pair of bright white Adidas stepping on it, keeping you from going any further. Straightening up to stand at your full height, you realize it’s Danny.
“Need a hand?”
“Oh, no, you’re fine. It’s a little complicated, so…” You try to brush him off.
“I’m sure I can figure it out.” he says, a little snarky. “The faster you’re done the faster you can have fun, right?” He’s proving to be a persistent guy who definitely likes a challenge. Something about that brings some color to your cheeks, but you try to keep a level head.
“If you really insist…” you tell him with a smirk, stepping aside so he can unplug the cord you just freed from the stage. 
The room is still fairly loud so as Danny helps you get packed up there aren’t too many words exchanged. You feel his eyes on you though. It’s difficult not to steal a few glances his way too, watching as he bends at the knee, his broad shoulders flexing while he maneuvers around equipment. 
Carter pushes away with the last road case and then there’s little to nothing left to do. 
“Thanks for your help. You seriously didn’t have to do that.” 
“It’s all good. I honestly miss doing some of the more hands-on stuff. It felt like riding a bike.” He gives you a genuine smile, his comment making you reconsider your preconceived notions of him. He seems to be a sweet guy despite his sizable ego and cocky presence. You brush your hands off on your thighs and offer Danny a grateful smile. As you do so, you feel the key to the van in your front pocket.
“Oh, shit. They’re probably out there waiting for me.” You jump into motion, heading for the door you came in through. Danny follows your quick footsteps with relaxed, large ones of his own, shifting to squeeze through the crowd with you. You’re surprised to find him behind you when you get out into the cold, but decide not to question it this time. You just smile and jog down the stairs. 
He proves to be incredibly helpful, lifting and stowing the heaviest items without more than the occasional grunt. Your eyes are constantly darting between your task at hand and his arms- the fabric of the athletic quarter zip he’s wearing is stretching around his biceps and it’s enough to make your heart pound. 
“You really didn’t have to do all that.” you murmur with a warm smile as Danny shuts the door. He lets out a big breath, his shoulders relaxing a little.
“It’s really nothing. I’m happy to help.” He goes on speaking but you’re distracted as you look over his shoulder, seeing your best friend and photographer over at her car, talking to a guy who’s within awfully close proximity. You can’t see his face, but he’s in a red beanie and a sweater. You have a feeling your plans to hang out after the show tonight are about to go to the wayside as you watch them talk and bump elbows. 
“It’s freezing out here. I’m gonna… head inside?” you say, a questioning lilt to your voice. You don’t directly ask him to come with you, but you assume he’s going to. 
“Yeah, let’s get you another drink. I lost track of it when you put it down on one of the amps.” he says, leading you back inside with a hand on the small of your back. 
You immediately feel nervous as you walk back through the door and a few pairs of eyes find you with Danny trailing almost too close behind. You worry they’ll think the worst, which you can’t imagine would be good for your possibly blossoming career, but he’s been charming and helpful thus far and it wouldn’t be fair to write him off. 
“I’m gonna find the bathroom. Don’t go anywhere, alright?” he says, leaning in close to say the words in your ear, making sure they’re heard despite the next band starting to warm up. You nod and he walks off while you search the kitchen for something to drink.
You crack open a can of beer and sip the foam that starts to bubble up. As you’re doing so, a petite dark haired girl approaches you. She seems young, her skin a striking olive shade. You swallow the foam in your mouth and lift your head.
“Hey...” she says, looking over her shoulder, then back at you.
“Hi!” you return, wiping your mouth. You go to speak again, intending to ask if she liked the show, but she cuts you off. She steps a little closer, since it’s incredibly loud.
“I just wanted to give you a heads up. About Danny?”
You retract a little, surprised that she thinks you need a warning. Had the two of you come across as having that much chemistry? You nod and lean forward again for her to continue.
“I’d just be careful with him if I were you. He really doesn’t have the best reputation, or a shred of respect for women. Don’t let him fool you.”
You scoff a laugh, a little annoyed and insulted that this girl thinks you don’t have good judgment or can’t fend for yourself. 
“Oh, great! Thanks for the tip!” you quip, watching her eyes cut just a touch, as you feel a hand brush across your lower back. 
“Tori…” his voice is smooth, as he takes his place next to you. “Can’t say I didn’t expect to see you here.” he pauses, dropping his hand from your back to step a little closer.  “You’re always just kind of… here, aren’t you?” He sips from his fresh drink as he waits for her response.
“Actually, Daniel, I was just leaving.” she replies, tossing her hair over her shoulder pretending to be unaffected. 
“Ouch, the government name…” he feigns hurt, pressing a hand to his chest.
“Well, thanks for coming out!” you say, an air of faux enthusiasm in your voice. She rolls her eyes subtly as she walks away, and you smile turning to face Danny who is wearing his own cheeky grin. 
“So, what were you two talking about?” he asks, peering over the edge of his beer can.
“Oh, she was just… complimenting the set, nothing really.” you lie, biting your lips together.
“Who, Tori? She probably hasn’t even stepped foot into the basement! She’s here for one thing and one thing only and it’s not the music, I can assure you.” he says with a huff of annoyance.
“Oh, can you? Assure me?” you smirk playfully. 
“No! Well, I mean, god. Okay yes, I can. But also, that’s not why I’m here, and it wasn’t that night either. Okay?” he stammers over his words, you’ve caught him in the act and you can tell this doesn't happen often. 
“I’m just messing with you.” you say, watching a blonde girl pat him on his back as she walks behind him. “Hi Danny…” her syrupy sweet voice says. 
 He turns to her to say hello before quickly turning back to you. “Sorry bout that.” he says, refocusing on your conversation, stepping a bit closer. 
Just as you go to speak, you hear someone call his name from across the room, grabbing his attention yet again. He lifts a hand and waves two fingers back at the girl, before lowering it back down and into his pocket.
You raise your eyebrows in question, and he lets his face grow a little softer. 
“I can let you get back to the party, I don’t want to keep you–”
“No, listen, you wanna…You wanna go somewhere else? Not here? A bar or something?” he asks, sincerity lining his voice. 
“I thought they were full of schmucks…” you quip. 
“They are…Never said I wasn’t one…” he smiles back with the raise of his brow.
“What’s wrong? You worried the ghosts of girlfriends’ past are gonna ruin your chances, here?” you quip, offering him a tiny wink.
“So you’re saying I do have a chance…” his eyes are shining in the dim house lights, a few stray curls falling from beneath his baby blue trucker hat. He bites his lip nervously waiting for your response and you can feel the butterflies swirling in your stomach from just his gaze alone.
“Mmm, I haven’t decided yet.” you answer, taking a pull from your beer.
“So let me take you for a drink, then. You can decide after if I’m really as bad as they say.” 
“Aren’t you even a little bit concerned about people talking? People have seen us together all night, and I’m sure half of Tori’s social circle knows at this point, and have found me on Instagram already.” you smirk. 
“No, fuck all those rumors. They are completely out of hand. People get mad when you cut them off. If they can’t talk to you, they’re gonna talk about you. It’s all they have. I don’t let it get to me, I know it’s not true.” he answers, and you feel a little surprised to hear something so noble come from him. 
You tap your finger to your chin pretending to decide, but you already know you’re going. You just don’t want him to know that yet.
“Where?” you question. 
“Somewhere in East? I know a few quieter places.” he answers, really trying his best, you can tell.
“Hmm… You’ll drive me home after?” you ask. 
“Of course. Just say yes, just one drink.” he pauses. “I’ll be on my best behavior.” he says, patting his hand over his heart.
You suck your teeth and pivot on the heel of your boot. “Alright, one…” 
He smiles, and you're positive that had he shown that perfect smile from the get go, you’d have been a goner from the jump. 
“Only because I live over there…” you smile. 
“Oh, no other reason?” he grins, sending you a wink. 
He places his hand on your back again, causing a shiver to run up your spine. You feel good walking out with him, despite the glares you can feel from across the room. He leads you through the crowd, heading towards the door but before you can reach it, a girl jumps out in front of you commanding your attention. You can tell she is drunk by the haziness of her eyes and the blush of her cheeks. Well, that and the drink sloshing out of her red solo cup. 
“I'm sooooo sorry t’bother you…” her words are slurring together and you know this is probably not the first time Danny has had to deal with this. 
“No no, no bother, what’s up? How are you?” he asks, his demeanor suddenly shifting. 
“I just– I have to tell you how much I love your music, it like literally changed my life…I’m like your biggest fan ever.” she slurs, falling over onto her starstruck friend. 
“That’s awesome, thank you so much for listening, we really appreciate you guys.” he answers. 
“Can we take a picture with you?” she asks, pulling her phone from her back pocket. You can tell he doesn’t want to, but he would never tell them that.
“Yeah, yeah no problem, hold on let me just–”
Before he can step closer to her, she is holding the phone up as she moves back, crashing into him and sending her drink flying. Danny is doused in the sticky liquid, what you think is probably vodka and Coke.
His pullover is soaked through, and you watch his jaw clench with anger. He stays calm, however, consoling the very embarrassed fan as if nothing ever happened. “It’s all good, no worries at all. Happens all the time. But hey, we were heading out, great to meet you.”
He quickly ushers you through the crowd, letting out a few mumbles of anger as you walk towards his car. 
“That really happen all the time?” you smirk, watching him smile as he shakes his head. 
“It’s usually not that messy. Literally and figuratively.” He says, clearly in a bit of a huff. He pulls out his keys and unlocks the Jeep that you know is his once the lights flash. You head to the passenger side and hop in, happy to be safe from the wind. You see him standing outside the door for a second, tapping his phone screen before holding it up to his ear. 
“Where’d you get off to?” He asks, his voice muffled. He opens the door, sliding into the driver’s seat as he listens to whoever is on the other line.
“I’m fine, yeah, just checking in. Didn’t know you left. You bag that chick you were chatting with?” He starts the car quickly once he realizes you’re cold, his hands messing with the dials and turning on the heat for you. You give him a little smirk at the locker room talk you’re sitting in on right now and hope he doesn’t say a word about you. He smirks as he goes to speak once more.
“Hell no. Neither is Jake. You’re stuck with Josh and his girl. So, have fun with that.” Danny says, getting adjusted and buckling his seatbelt. He laughs at whoever is on the other end of the phone and the sound of his laugh brings a little warmth to your otherwise freezing body. 
“Yeah, yeah. You too. See ya.” He hangs up and tosses his phone into the center console. When he’s done, he lifts his hand to push some hair behind his ear and there’s audible proof of how sticky it is. 
“Hang on,” he starts, shifting sideways to look at you as you buckle your seatbelt. “Can we actually stop at my place and have a drink first? I just… I need to change and maybe rinse this shit out of the ends of my hair.” He seems pretty annoyed and you feel for him, so you can’t help but nod. 
“Totally fine.” You smile in an attempt to quell a little bit of his anger bubbling up under the surface. 
He aggressively shifts into drive and all but peels out of the spot he’s parked in, probably leaving tracks in the grass of whoever’s house this is without a care. You smirk as he leans forward to look around the bend of the road before he pulls out and picks up a significant amount of speed. 
The song playing picks up where it must have left off when he arrived, and you think you recognize the familiar sound of the Foo Fighters. He turns it up a little as he starts to sing along, softly and maybe even subconsciously as he concentrates on the road. He’s a bit of a reckless driver, and you find your hand reaching for the handle on the door subtly. 
The chorus comes in and he drums along on the steering wheel as you approach some main roads, slowing down just a little. 
“Give me some rope, I'm coming loose, I’m pulling for you now…”
You smile as he seems to let go of whatever anger was brimming and his charming smile comes back as his enthusiasm grows. Eventually, after a particularly loud, “YEOW!” towards the end of the song, you have to let out a laugh. He glances over at you once he hears it, his eyes flickering between you and the road for a moment before he bites his tongue between his teeth in a playful way that makes your stomach flip. The song ends and another one starts, this one softer, a sweet melodic undercurrent as he drives. Danny taps his fingers softly against the wheel along with the melody like he’s listened to it a few times. 
You know the distance never made a difference to me…
It’s getting brighter as he drives, heading past the restaurants and bars lining the streets of Nashville, crowds and lines and not a single parking spot to be found. 
I swam a lake of fire, I’d have walked across the floor of any sea… 
You listen, not feeling the need to make any conversation, taking these little insights into his taste in music and running with them, putting the pieces together. You find these tidbits more valuable than if he were to outright start talking about himself directly to you. 
As you steal glances at him, you look around his car too. There are a few rubber ducks on the dashboard. One is a leprechaun, another is solid blue. There’s a bigger one that’s white with cherries. There’s one you think is Frankenstein, but you can’t quite tell. 
He has some chapstick in the center console under his phone, a stick of Palmer’s cocoa butter lip balm. He has a friendship bracelet tied to the wrist closest to you, and the opposite has a thin gold bracelet and a smart watch of some sort. His jeans have a little faded indent that shows where he usually keeps his phone.
He flips on his blinker and pulls onto a side street, driving slower now through the suburban streets. As he pulls into his driveway, he turns the music down a little, looking at you while he shifts into park. 
He reaches for his phone, then the chapstick. He puts some on quickly and then offers it to you, holding on to the cap. You accept, swiping on a little before wordlessly handing it back. He secures the cap and then speaks. 
“Shall we?” 
You open the car door and jump out, fixing your clothes briefly before closing it behind you. He wraps a warm arm around you as he leads the way down the pathway to the front door of his house. 
“God, it’s fucking freezing.” He says, eventually taking his arm back so he can use both hands to put the key in and turn the knob.
As you wait for him to unlock his front door you can smell the sticky sweetness radiating from his clothes, mixing with the masculine scent of his cologne. He smells warm and clean and you want to bury your face into him to escape the cold. The wind is whipping your hair around, and cutting through the fabric of your corset top, sending shivers through your body. He pushes the door open and you’re instantly met with the heat of his home, bathed in warm amber lighting. 
He flips a few light switches and plugs his keys into a Marshall key rack, before kicking his shoes off and locking the door. He takes off his hat, and peels off his liquor covered pull over, giving you the smallest glimpse of the dark hair peeking from the top of his jeans. He tosses it onto his kitchen counter and it's then you see the thick black bands inked across his bicep. His t-shirt is tight across his chest, adorned with birds and a sunset motif, as he reaches for his hat, placing it back on top of his dark curls letting out a sigh of relief before looking at you. 
“So, drinks. What do you um– What would you like? I think I can make most anything.” he says, walking over to a small wooden bar cart against the wall. You unzip your boots and leave them at his front door, happy to finally have them off after all this time.
“Anything?” you ask, leaning your hip into his kitchen counter. “How confident are you in your mixology skills?”
He gives you a smug grin, “I’d say I’m pretty confident. I’ve been known to pour up a drink or two. No complaints so far.”
“Can you make a Martini? A good one?” you ask, pushing off the counter and walking over towards him. 
“Vodka or Gin?” he asks, sliding both of the bottles from their respective places. “Wait, are you a dirty girl?”
You send him a self righteous smile and lean against the cabinet next to him. “What do you think?”
“Okay. So, Gin it is.” he says, twisting the lid from the bottle. 
“Lucky guess.” you answer, watching him walk to the fridge to retrieve a jar of olives. He grabs a cocktail shaker and a few ice cubes on his way back to the bar cart, setting the items down to begin the process. You watch intently as he adds the Gin and Vermouth to the shaker, adding a healthy splash of olive brine to the silver cup. He places the lid on top of the shaker and starts to shake the mixture together over the ice. His arms flex as he does so, and you can’t seem to take your eyes off of him and his perfectly tanned complexion. 
After a few seconds he stops, pulling the frosty lid off and straining the mixture into two waiting martini glasses. He works precariously to skewer a few olives through toothpicks, dropping them into the glasses and extending the first one out to you. 
You take a sip from the cold glass, tasting the saltiness on your tongue. 
“Well, dirty enough for you?” he asks, sipping from his own.
“Mmhm. Just right.” you murmur. 
He leads you over to his couch, a firm black leather number with a few throw pillows and a blanket or two strewn about. You both sit, sipping at your drinks as he reaches over to grab a remote, turning on a stereo system that's clearly wired through the whole house. 
“Any preference?” he asks, pulling out his phone.
“Surprise me.” 
Music starts to play through the house, something much softer than you expected based on what he’d played in the car. You definitely didn’t take him for a folk rock kind of guy, but the more you think about it, he’s been full of surprises all night. 
You can feel your chest growing warm as the gin works its way into your bloodstream. His cheeks are a little more pink than they were, and since the removal of his jacket you notice his arms are a little flushed too. 
You look around his living room, noticing pictures on the wall of what you can only assume are his bandmates and he in various cities and countries. A few framed albums hang on the wall along with some artwork for color. However, the entire back wall of his living room is lined with guitars. 
“You play guitar…” the words slip out of your mouth before you can stop them. 
“Yeah, yeah. I do. Was my first instrument, though now I’m a drummer. Guitar was really my first love. What about you? How long you been playing?” he asks. 
“Oh, since I was eleven. Got one for Christmas and my parents got me some lessons. Just kinda clicked you know?” you answer, “Which uh– which one is your favorite?” you ask, gesturing your glass towards the guitars hanging. 
“Oooh, probably– Um, probably the yellow one, far left. I find myself reaching for it the most. Good little thing, lots of power if you know how to wield it.” he answers, sipping from his glass. 
You nod and look back at him, “So you love guitar but you’re the drummer?” you ask. 
“Yeah, I know, sounds backwards but, my brother, Jake, he’s…He’s way better than I’ll ever be. I fit on drums, you know? It works for us. Obviously.” he laughs, a dimple peeking out on his cheek. 
“Yeah, yeah I understand I almost played bass in my band.” you quip, tossing back the rest of your drink. You pull the toothpick of olives from the glass and pop one into your mouth.
“Are these blue cheese olives?” you ask. 
“They are, yeah. I like them in a Martini.” he answers confidently. 
“They’re really good. I love olives.” you reply, setting your glass on the coffee table. 
“So, you had your one drink. It’s the moment of truth…”
“Hmm… Might need another to make a really good solid decision, you know?” you say playfully, resting your head on the couch cushion and letting your eyes flick up to meet his. 
“I think I could do that…” he says, snatching your glass from the table and returning to the bar cart. 
“You know, you guys sounded really good up there. I was into it. I’m glad we got there when we did.” he says, shaking the silver shaker. 
“We?” you ask, wondering who he left at the show.
“Oh, yeah. I came with my buddy Sam. The one on the phone earlier. He’s the bass player in our band.” he says, pouring up the drinks. 
“I see, so you left him there...” you joke. 
“You heard for yourself he seemed preoccupied…” he laughs, and he’s right, he definitely sounded busy. 
“So you two are like, best friends outside of the band?” you ask, accepting the glass from his hand as he rejoins you on the couch, a little closer this time. He grabs a thick blue blanket from the back of the couch and tosses it to you with a gentle smile as he answers your question. 
“Yeah, I mean we were best friends before the band ever really existed. Just kind of solidified our friendship. Been quite a few years of craziness together.”
“And the others…They’re all brothers, right? Or is that just a rumor?” you ask.
“Yeah, all brothers, twins and then Sam who is a couple years younger. My age.” he says, sipping from his glass with a loud exhale. 
“Is that…weird?” you ask, a little hesitantly. 
“Not at all. I’m practically their brother too. Known ‘em my whole life. Wouldn’t be able to do this crazy on the go life with anyone but them, I think.” he says, letting his walls down just enough to let you peek in. 
“How many months out of the year do you guys tour?”
“Shit, a lot. We’re gone more than we’re home these days. Probably eight or nine I’d say. Either in the US, Europe, Mexico… Fuckin’ everywhere now. It’s crazy.” he says, staring off into the distance, his eyes locked on the small flame flickering in his electric fireplace.
“So you guys are pretty famous then...Touring that long… Even have random girls spilling their drinks on you at parties just for a single photo…” you wink. 
“Oh, do I detect a hint of jealousy from Miss Y/N?” he asks. 
“No, I’m not jealous… I mean, I’m the one sitting on your couch drinking Martini’s aren’t I?”
He laughs and shakes his head, tipping his drink to his lips. “I had to work for it, but… you sure are, sweetheart.”
“Did you think I wasn’t gonna say yes to drinks?” you ask, your eyes locking in on him as the alcohol swirls through your system. You can tell he’s feeling it too, letting himself become a little more flirty. 
“Wasn’t sure, was kinda touch and go there for a minute. I hoped you would agree. Could hardly take my eyes off of you all night. Saw you and… Yeah, I just had to talk to you.”
“You use that line on all the girls?” you ask, sipping the last of the frosty drink. 
“No, guys too, I don’t play favorites.” he smirks, biting the olive off of his toothpick with a wink. 
Fuck…
You smile and nod, biting your lip between your teeth as you feel color rush to your cheeks. 
“How does it feel?” he asks, his eyes trained on your lips, watching as you release it. 
“What?” you breathe.
He swallows harshly, “Nothin’...Nevermind.” he says, shaking the thoughts from his mind. “Well, drink two…Have you made up your mind yet? Am I as bad as they say? Are you dying to get out of here?” he asks, running his tongue over his bottom lip. He’s inched a little closer to you and you can feel the warmth radiating off of his body. 
“What if I say yes?” you ask, leaning forward just a touch.
He repositions himself, taking your glass and placing it with his on the table. He moves a little closer, mirroring your body as he rests his head on his hand on the back of the couch. 
“Well, then I’ll get us some water, get my head on straight, and take you home. Is that what you want?” he asks, his dark eyes boring into yours as he tilts his chin down.
“And if I say no?” you answer. 
“If you say no, then I…Make us another drink and we can keep talking and…see what happens…” he says, his voice trailing off, hoping you will take that option, and there’s no doubt in your mind which option you’re going to pick.
“What were you thinking about a minute ago? …Tell me.” you say, pulling your legs up and tucking them under you. 
He rubs his hand over his chin, nodding his head in agreement. “Your lips.”
“What about them?” you ask, feeling your heart start to pound.
“I don’t know, they’re just pretty. Wanted to know how it felt… watching you bite them.” he admits. He grins, unabashed. “Your turn…What’re you thinking about?” he asks. 
“I’m thinking…another drink.” He grins when he realizes you’ve made your decision. 
“I’ll make you another drink… But only if you tell me what you and Tori were actually talking about.” he counters as he stands, grabbing both of your glasses. As he walks away, you snicker softly. 
“Why do I feel like you already know?” you ask, standing to follow him to the kitchen island. He shrugs, his broad shoulders flexing a little in a way that catches your eye. You walk by him, exploring his kitchen. 
“I’m certain I was the subject, but something tells me her interpretation of what happened between her and I has become a bold departure from the truth…” he muses in a smooth voice as he pours. 
“It was a warning really…” you begin, standing in front of his refrigerator. There’s one pizza menu, a mostly unused magnetic notepad, and some photos. “She was letting me know that you’re very charming and convincing, but underneath it all, you apparently have zero respect for women.” 
He chuckles as he gently places the olive skewers in your drinks, unbothered by the retelling of Tori’s dramatic warning. You look at the photos on his fridge, realizing that most of them are of his family. They look pretty wholesome. 
“Tori and I ended badly because I felt that she was a bit too… immature, emotionally. She puts a lot of stock into social media and status and things like that, which just isn’t how I am. My life is on display enough already.” He says truthfully, pushing your drink towards you. 
“You have a sister?” You ask, looking over your shoulder, then back to their Old Navy catalog-esque family photos. 
“I do, yeah. She's my best friend… much to Sam’s dismay.” He says, sipping from his own glass and retreating to the couch. 
“That’s sweet…You two seem really close.” you say as you turn to grab your drink, following him as he takes a seat. 
“I’m not all bad.” 
He looks up at you, a devilish smirk on his lips. He tugs the brim of his hat a little, as if he wants to see you better. Taking a big gulp of your drink, you remove the olives and hold the toothpick between two fingers. 
“C’mere,” he murmurs, shifting his hips a little so his thighs are spread wide on the couch and patting his thigh. You flush from the combination of his eyes on you and the alcohol hitting your system. You put your glass down, figuring you’ve had enough, and delicately straddle him where he sits. Watching as he takes a sip of his own drink, you let out a little huff.
“Oh, I didn’t get to eat my olives.” you say, a little disappointed, turning to reach for your drink. 
“Here.” Danny’s voice is suddenly delicate as he speaks. You look back into his eyes and he’s got his own toothpick between his fingers. “Open.”
You open your mouth tentatively, then bite down on the bottom olive once it’s in far enough. He pulls the toothpick away and you chew gingerly, your smile a little coy. 
“S’good?” He asks, his voice still soft. You nod your head. “I feel like olives are hit or miss for a lot of people.”
“I love a good salty treat…” you say with a shrug, which earns you a boisterous chuckle from him. 
“You were a tough nut to crack but… you’re pretty fun.” He says, watching as you take a sip of his drink to wash the olive down since you can’t reach your own. You smile, your eyes slightly narrowed, wordlessly confirming that yeah, you’re fun when you want to be. 
As if he sees you’ve gotten a little bit of a big head over it, he decides to trip you up. He leans back and puts his drink on the end table before he speaks. 
“Why don’t you come a little closer and give me a kiss? I know you’ve been thinking about it.”
You lick your lips, a little nervous. He’s telling you to make the first move.
“Let me just get my pen…” you say, looking around. 
“What?” He looks genuinely confused. 
“Oh, for the NDA. Right?” 
As soon as you deliver the punchline, he’s pulling you in for a hungry kiss so fast you barely get a laugh out. His massive hand is on the back of your neck to keep you in place while the other has a grip on your forearm, again, keeping you in place. You moan softly in surprise but let yourself lean into him, steadying yourself on his chest with your free hand. You feel how damp his shirt still is from the drink he had poured on him. 
His lips are perfectly soft, reminding you of the chapstick he so graciously shared with you in the car. You tug softly on the grip he has in your forearm and he releases it, allowing you to push up for a breath of air. 
He, however, doesn’t seem to need any. He quickly buries his face in your neck, his mouth latching onto your throat, his tongue pulling the delicate skin between his teeth before he bites down with a bit of force. You can’t help the way your hips roll forward, your mouth releasing a sound you don’t even recognize. 
“Yeah?” He says, his smirk audible. 
“…Yeah.” 
He does it again and again, moving down your neck towards your clavicle, then the fullest part of each of your tits, leaving red bites and splotches as he goes. You’re breathless by the time he looks back up at you, his lips swollen and his eyes a little wild. He grins, his perfect, sharp teeth flashing in the dim light of his living room. 
You capture him in another kiss, this time lacing your fingers in his hair, carefully making sure not to pull at any of his perfect curls. You feel a little bit of the stickiness from the spill earlier and pull your hand away gently as hair gets stuck to your fingers. He breaks the kiss, taking a few shallow breaths as you watch the way his chest rises and falls. 
“…I’m a fuckin’ mess. What do you say to helping me wash this out of my hair?” He mumbles, his eyes looking over you in a way that implies he knows you’re going to say yes. 
“Oh, yeah. It looks like a two person job. I’m happy to help.”  You giggle softly before he pecks you on the lips. You lift from his lap, feeling your balance waver slightly as you get your footing. He’s on his feet quickly, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind to steady you. 
“Think you’ll make it up the stairs?” He jokes, his voice soft, his lips against the shell of your ear. You laugh as he squeezes tight around you, leaning your head against his.
“You do make a strong drink… but I’ll be okay.” 
He kisses your cheek, sending you forward with a quick smack on your ass. 
You ascend the stairs, Danny following close behind. You can feel his eyes on you as you reach the top, and turning over your shoulder only confirms it. He looks up and meets your eyes, giving you a guilty smile.
He puts a gentle, possessive hand on the back of your neck as he guides you into his bedroom. It’s dark until he flips on the lights, the switch controlling two lamps on either side of his bed. He doesn’t stop there, though, continuing to guide you towards the bathroom.
Once inside, you’re met with a sparkling clean bathroom, an impressive shower that’s about as big as your bedroom, and a dual basin sink. He turns you around for another kiss, this time sucking your bottom lip into his mouth, his teeth biting softly into the skin. When he hears the whimper it conjures from deep in your chest, he does it again with more enthusiasm before breaking the kiss and leaving you wanting more. 
He steps into the large open concept shower, flicking the handle to start the water. There's chill bumps spreading across his skin from the coldness of the water and the tile beneath his feet. He walks back out as you lean against the bathroom wall, watching him as he pulls his shirt over his head, revealing a fairly chiseled physique. His skin is pretty tan for February but you chalk it up to traveling and don’t think much of it. 
He presses the button on a portable speaker hanging from a towel hook behind you, powering it on. He slides his phone from his pants pocket and turns on the same music that was playing downstairs, before tossing his phone onto the counter and stepping over to a closet to grab another towel. He hangs it on the hook next to his and you wish that the sight didn’t make your cheeks grow warm. 
Steam starts to rise from the streams of water in the shower, and as you remember just how cold it is outside, you shiver wanting nothing more than to be standing under the scalding hot water. He breaks your trance by stepping in front of you, sliding his hand around your neck and pulling you in for a kiss. He pulls your bottom lip away from your teeth as he pulls away from you, releasing it with a grin. He runs his warm hands over your arms, feeling the chill bumps that have taken up residency. 
“You cold, sweetheart? You wanna get warmed up?” he asks, sliding them back up to your shoulders. His fingers hook into the the straps of your top, pulling them down over your shoulders to rest gently on your arms. 
“Yeah, got any ideas?” you answer playfully, toying with the button on his jeans. You free the button from the hole, and slide his zipper down before pulling them away. 
“A few right off the top of my head. Why don’t you take this off for me…” he says, sliding his finger down the center of your top. You reach for the zipper on the side, slowly pulling it down until the fabric breaks free. You let it fall to the tile floor, leaving you in just your black jeans. His eyes dart down to your chest and he sucks in a deep breath before letting his eyes meet yours. They are darker, deeper, and completely blown out with lust. 
He lets his knuckles just barely graze over your skin as they travel up your stomach and over your sternum, sliding across your collarbone and down around the fullness of your tits. His thumb just lightly grazes over your nipple, feeling the pebbled flesh beneath his finger tip.  
Your eyes flick to his lips, full and pouty as his fingers trace over your skin. You let your hands wrap around his torso as you press your lips to his, feeling his hands grip into your chest, with a firm squeeze. A whimper leaves your mouth and you can feel the smile on his lips. 
“These too?” he says, sliding his hand to the button on your jeans. 
“Mmhm…” you hum, letting him pop the button. You shimmy out of the tight black pants, just your thong between you and his hands now. 
“Red…How festive.” he snarks, sucking hard into your neck again. You roll your eyes but he can’t see, still it makes you feel better.
You slide your fingers into the front of his open jeans, silently asking him to join you. He pulls his pink lips away from your skin and kicks his jeans off, pausing and looking at you for a moment before sliding his dark colored boxers over his hips and down to the floor. Your eyes don’t leave his, but from your peripheral you can see that he is fully hard, and hanging heavily between the two of you. 
You swallow thickly, and he seems to notice, letting a smug grin spread across his face as he licks his lips. 
“Still a bit uneven, hm?” he says, hooking his fingers into the sides of your thong, and sinking to his knees before sliding them over your hips. When they hit the floor you step out of them, kicking them to the side. You feel his hands slide up the front of your legs, circling around to rest at the back of your thighs as a deep hum leaves his chest. 
His lips connect with your hip bone, kissing and sucking at the skin until a deep purple mark is left behind. You can feel yourself practically dripping with want for him, and you know if you two don’t get into the shower quickly, he will be your undoing without even properly touching you. 
He stands, grabbing your hand and pulling you into his large stone tiled shower, a freestanding tub just to the side. The second the water hits your skin you let out an audible groan, the goosebumps quickly disappearing. 
“Yeah? Not too hot?” he asks, pulling you under the spray. 
“Not hot enough…” you quip, raising an eyebrow. 
“Any hotter and we’ll descend into hell, babe.” he laughs, twisting the handle a bit further. 
As he steps under the spray to wet his hair you take the time to look at him. The subtle contours of his body, the way his muscles ripple as he moves, the stretch of his tattoo as he rakes his hands through his curls. Your eyes flick to his groin, taking in the sheer size of him, and of course you’re caught in the act. 
“S’not polite to stare…” he smirks. “You wanna hand me that body wash right there?” he asks, nodding his head to a shelf of products. You grab the amber colored bottle, ready to hand it to him but instead squirting the masculine smelling shower gel into your own palm. 
You rub it between both of your hands before pressing them both to his abs, starting to slide the soapy bubbles across his skin. “This okay?” you ask, locking eyes with him. 
“Fuck yeah, baby.” 
You continue sliding your hands around his body, traveling up and around his broad shoulders before sliding back down his slender frame. He presses his tongue into his cheek every time your hands slide a little further down, and after a few teasing attempts you let your hand circle around his fully hardened cock. 
He swallows heavily as you slide your soapy fist up and down his shaft, your eyes never leaving his. 
“Yeah baby, just like that, feels so good. C’mere…” he pleads, pulling your face to his and pressing his lips to yours. His tongue swipes against your lips before pressing into your mouth, your tongues playing a game of cat and mouse as your hand continues to work him. He groans as he pulls away from you, letting the water wash over him and rinse away the suds. You press a kiss to his chest, sucking the skin into your teeth to leave a mark of your own, but he stops you, pulling you away with a smirk. 
“No, no, no…Can’t this time, gotta wear a sheer shirt in three days. Gonna have to mark somewhere you can’t see.”  he says, tilting your chin up with his thumb. 
You purse your lips together before raising a brow. You sink down to your knees, feeling him brush your wet hair away from your face. You grip his cock in your fist once again as he leans against the cold tile behind him, his hand coming to rest in your hair. 
You lean forward, pressing a wet kiss to the tip of his dick, locking eyes with him before letting him slide past your lips and into your mouth. His jaw clenches as you stroke him, letting your tongue slide up and down the underside of his cock as the water pours down around the two of you. You slide your hand up his thigh, cupping his balls in your free hand as you take him as far down as you can. You swallow around him, and his hips jerk forward, a groan leaving his chest. 
You blink up at him, and seeing that he’s enjoying this is making you all the more aroused. His eyes flutter closed and you whine around him, causing his eyes to fly back open. 
“Oh, you want me to watch you, baby?” he asks, his hand gripping into your wet hair. You blink at him as the wet sounds of your mouth echo in the large shower. 
He clicks his tongue, “Of course you want me to watch you. I saw you on the stage tonight…Everyone fawning over you. Feels good doesn’t it, sweetheart? Having everyone’s eyes on you? It’s addicting huh, baby?” he pauses, jerking his hips forward, earning him a gag from your throat. “Fuck… It gets better you know… Bigger crowds, more people, more pressure. People fucking dying to meet you everywhere you go. My eyes are on you now baby. You’ve got my full attention.”
He fucks into your mouth again, a grunt leaving his chest as his words falter. Water is dripping from the ends of his hair down onto your face as his eyes stay locked on yours. “You looked so fuckin’ hot on the stage tonight, but you’re so goddamn pretty right here just for me.”
He slides his hand from your hair and cups your jaw, letting his thumb and fingers press into the hollows of your cheeks. You’re positive he can feel his cock sliding against his fingers as he moves in your mouth, and you feel like you might cum from this alone. 
“Fuck…” he groans, pulling himself from your mouth and quickly grabbing your hand to pull you up from your sore knees. 
“But I wanted–”
“Don’t worry baby, you’re gonna get exactly what you want…” he says, pulling you under the spray to warm you body for just seconds before spinning you around to face away from him. He pulls you tightly to his chest, his hard cock resting just beneath your ass. His right hand slides around to your front, his fingers sliding between your folds, feeling the wetness collected there. 
“You sweet little thing, you like sucking my cock?” he asks, swirling two fingers over your clit. “Answer me.” he says, before sinking his teeth into your shoulder. You jump at the contact and you feel a rush of wetness sweep over you. 
“Yes…” you breathe, unable to form a coherent sentence. You want him to do it again. You want it harder. 
“You did so good, might let you do it again…” he says, sliding his middle finger inside of you. 
“Oh goddamn, you’re so tight…” he groans, adding another finger as his palm works over top of your clit. 
“Danny…” you breathe, feeling your nerves come alive. 
“Yeah? You want more?” he asks, your heavy breathing echoing in the shower. 
“Bite me… Again…” you beg, “Please…”
“Oh, so sweet with your tight pussy and your manners.” he taunts.
His lips brush against the juncture of your neck and shoulder, pressing a hot, open mouthed kiss to the skin, letting his tongue swipe over it before sinking his teeth into you again. 
“Oh, fuck…” you cry out, clenching around his fingers as his tongue laps against the fresh bite mark. 
“Yeah? You like that? Want me to mark you all up, claim you as mine?” he asks, “Your pussy says yes, but what does that sweet mouth say?”
“Again…” you beg.
A hum leaves his chest, “Step forward, put your hands on the edge of the tub for me, gorgeous.” he says, pulling his fingers from you, and smacking your ass with his wet hand. 
You grip your hands into the white porcelain, feeling him step up behind you, admiring the red handprint he left behind seconds ago. You feel his hands grip into your ass, rubbing over the round flesh before sinking to his knees behind you. You feel his breath hot against your core, a shiver of anticipation settling deep within your bones. 
His hands grip into the meat of your thighs before his mouth connects with your core, his hot tongue lapping at your entrance. The sounds echoing off the walls are lewd, but the euphoria washing over your body is all consuming. His tongue flicks over your clit and you find yourself arching your back to grant him easier access. His hand travels up the inside of your thigh, his thumb finding your clit and flicking across it as his tongue toys with your opening. You groan into the empty tub below you, your knees growing weaker with every movement of his tongue. 
“Danny…” you plead, knowing your orgasm is approaching. 
The wet sounds of his tongue on your pussy are growing louder, and with a particularly loud suck you find yourself screaming his name. He hums against you as your legs start to shake, feeling his lips pull away from you and move to the inside of your thigh, he presses a kiss to the sensitive skin, before again sinking his teeth into you. 
Lighting strikes through your body, and you know your release is within reach. He runs his tongue up the inside of your thigh, pressing a kiss to the tender bite before returning his mouth to your core. 
“Danny…Danny please… please…” you beg.
You feel him smile against you, “You sound like my fans, baby…You don’t have to beg…” he pauses, sucking your clit into his mouth.
He brings both of his hands to your ass, squeezing the skin as he lets his teeth gently graze your clit, sending you straight over the edge. A string of indiscernible curses leave your mouth, strung together beautifully with his name woven inbetween. 
He holds you against the tub, not letting your body crash to the ground as it so badly wants to do. He works you through your release, his tongue slowing as he feels you start to come down. 
“Guess I know how it feels to be on the receiving end of a rockstar cumming on your face…” he jokes, running his nose up your spine as he stands behind you. 
You huff out a laugh, still trying to catch your breath. “Yeah?” you pause, “And which end do you prefer…”
“This one.” he says, delivering a harsh smack to your ass cheek. You yelp in surprise, and feel another rush of wetness to your core. 
He kisses your shoulder again, breathing in deeply as he fists his cock behind you. “Wanna fuck you, baby…”
“Last chance for that NDA…” you joke, quickly feeling him press you back down onto the ledge of the bathtub, the head of his cock brushing at your entrance. He presses into you, sliding in quickly from the wetness accumulated. 
Your once playful demeanor has rapidly changed gears at the fullness you feel inside you. You tighten around him as you feel his groin pressed to your ass, the coarse pubic hair at his base brushing against your opening. 
His hand rests on your shoulder as you feel him start to pull out just long enough to slam back into you. 
“Oh, fuck…” he breathes, the tightness of your pussy suddenly a little too much for him. He slides his hand down your back, both hands now gripping into your hips as he moves in and out of you, setting a fairly quick pace. 
Your tits bounce against your chest as your hands grip into the tub, whines floating from your lips as his cock crashes into your cervix. You gasp each time, and you think that's what's spurring him on, but by this point he knows that you may possess a few masochistic tendencies.
“Goddamn you’re so gorgeous, perfect fuckin’ body, perfect tight pussy…” he grunts, the hot water still streaming down over the two of you. 
“Tell me what you want.” he demands, “Want you to cum on my cock.”
“Harder. More…” you plead, the sound of your wet bodies slapping together, inching you both closer. 
He leans over you, his hands sliding up your back to rest on your arms. You feel his lips trail up your spine, kissing into the soft skin at the juncture of your neck. “Yeah, you want more?” he growls against you, biting into your skin harder than he has. 
You feel his perfect teeth sink into you, the harsh sting sizzling through you like fire. He groans into your neck with his lips still attached to you and you feel a rush of warmth trickle down your skin. A drop of crimson red blood drips onto the tile below you, quickly washing down the drain.  
A whine leaves your chest, the pressure in your groin building as his tongue laps over the broken skin, hot and wet. His hips snap into you a little harder and a little tighter, and it’s evident to you that maybe he has a few kinks of his own. 
You feel a rivulet of blood trickling down your back, his hand coming up to spread it across your wet skin for only him to see, that is until his hand grips into the white porcelain next to yours. His hand is tinted red, and as he pulls it away to grip back into your hips, it’s a smear of bloody fingerprints that's left behind.
“Fuck…I’m– Hold on to the tub, don’t let go.” he says, spreading his stance a little wider behind you, but bringing one foot up to the edge of the tub for leverage. He drives his hips into you harder, a groan leaving his chest with each pointed thrust. “Baby…” you whine, only thoughts of him floating through your mind. 
“Yeah…Come on…” he grunts, his hair dripping onto your back. 
“I’m–”
“Yeah, give it to me. Cum for me so fuckin’ sweet and pretty, god I love it…” he says through gritted teeth. 
“Danny–” you warn, fluttering against him. 
“Yeah right, there, oh fuck…” he whines, as you clench around him.
A loud cry leaves your mouth, his cock still working against your g-spot as you fall apart around him. You feel like you're floating around the room in a thousand pieces, falling back down perfectly into place as he moves inside of you. 
“Danny…” you breathe. 
“So fuckin’ beautiful, gonna cum, baby… You want that? You want my cum?” he asks, his hips starting to stutter.
“Please, yes… My mouth… In my mouth, I want you…” you plead. 
“In your mouth…Fuck…” he says, still pumping into you. “I want your pussy so fucking bad baby, but god you’re so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” he pauses, “Fuck it, get on your knees.” he says, pulling out of you, and continuing to rapidly stroke his glistening, wet cock. 
You drop to your knees again, ready to take what you were promised earlier. You pull him into your mouth, your eyes rolling back in your head as you fill your throat full of him. 
“Mother fucker…” he groans, snapping his hips into you. His hand reaches down palming at your tits, rolling your nipple between his fingers. You whine against his cock, and that pushes him to his finish. He swiftly pulls himself from your mouth, pumping his fist over his cock as you peer up at him with your mouth open, and your tongue presented to him. 
“You want my cum, fuck… Take it… Fuckin’ take it.” he grunts, his hot release shooting into your mouth, landing on your tongue. It drips from your lips, rolling down your chin in bitter salty streams, and as he stares at you with a heaving chest you know that both of you need more of each other. Your mouth is full, his hot cum dripping down your chest as he releases his cock from his hand. 
He cups your chin, rubbing his thumb over your cheek with a smirk, before letting it drift into your open mouth, nodding at you to close your lips around it. You close your swollen lips and swallow down his cum with a flutter of your eye lids. It's warm as it slides down your throat, the taste of him unique, causing you to hum. Your tongue toys with his thumb and he pulls it from your lips with a pop. 
He drags his thumb up your throat and over your chin, collecting the drip that had fallen, before returning his thumb to your lips, and smearing it across the puffy pink skin. You lick your lips in response, and you watch as he crouches down in front of you, meeting you at eye level. 
He presses his lips to yours, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth, tasting the remnant of himself on your skin. His hand settles on the side of your neck, pulling you in a little closer and deepening the kiss before pulling away. 
He stares at you with a satisfied smile, and you’re sure you’re looking just as blissed out as he is. 
“Stay here, tonight.” he breathes, rubbing his thumb over your throat. 
“You sure?” you ask, placing your hand on his wrist. 
“I’ll wash your hair and we can order a pizza?” he smiles, trying to sweeten the deal, as if you’ll say no. 
“With pineapple? Or is that a deal breaker…” you counter. 
He smiles his perfect smile and kisses your forehead, helping you stand and escorting you back to the streaming hot water. 
After an ironic heart shaped pizza, with pineapple, a glass of red wine and a few laughs, you find yourself being ushered back upstairs with the swat of his hand. He leads you into his bedroom before disappearing back into his bathroom, his queen size bed perfectly made with fluffy beige sheets and feather pillows, and you want nothing more than to melt into them. He was kind enough to lend you a t-shirt and a pair of sweats after your shower, but as you make your way towards the bed you find yourself wanting to slip out of the clothes all together. You kick off the sweats and are left in just his t-shirt and a pair of his boxers.
He emerges from the bathroom, his curls disheveled around his face without any product to keep them together. “I uh, I don’t know if you want this… I dug around in my cabinet and found this from the last time I went to the dentist, but it’s new, and I am honestly shocked I found it, but it’s all yours if you want it.” he stammers, offering you a toothbrush. 
You take it from his hands, pulling it from the cardboard packaging as you follow him into the bathroom. He places himself in front of the sink, grabbing his black electric toothbrush, and the tube of toothpaste. He wets his toothbrush, and unscrews the lid, ready to squirt the paste onto his brush, but stopping and turning to you first. You hold out the toothbrush and let him squeeze a line of toothpaste onto the bristles, giving him a smile before he turns back to his own. 
You stare at yourself in the mirror as you brush your teeth, reading the letters ‘CME’ on the gray t-shirt, and smiling because you’ve always wanted to go there. You catch his eyes in the mirror, watching him brush his own teeth, wiggling his eyebrows at you as he stands in just his black sweatpants. Your eyes flick down to the V of his waist and you find yourself brushing a little harder as you recall the events of the evening. 
He smiles around his foamy toothbrush, likely having the same thoughts, before turning the water on to spit into the sink. You do the same, rinsing your mouth with water and placing the brush on the counter.
“Do you want me to toss this in the morning or…” you ask. 
“Oh, no, you can uh… You can just use it next time I guess. I can keep it here or something.”
“What makes you think there’ll be a next time?” you snark, raising your eyebrows in challenge. Your eyes suddenly catch sight of the bloody handprint left on his pristine white tub, and your breath catches in your throat. 
“Should I call my lawyer back? I already had him working on that NDA.” he says through a laugh, turning off the bathroom light and smacking your ass as you cross the threshold into his bedroom. 
He pulls down the comforter, letting you slide into the ice cold sheets before sliding in after you. You shiver a little, but not for long. He snakes his arm beneath you, wrapping it around your shoulder, and pulling you to lay half way on top of him. He twists his legs with yours, and you can feel his semi hard dick hiding just beneath his sweats. You raise an eyebrow at him, and he laughs. 
“I’m not sorry, who knew you would be so fucking cute brushing your teeth in my t-shirt?” You roll your eyes and lay your head down, the amber glow of his lamp illuminating the room.
“I mean it, though. I’d like to do this again.” His voice is almost boyish as he looks over at you from his side of the bed. You grin, nodding in agreement as your heavy eyelids make your blinks long and slow.
He grabs his phone from the nightstand, and turns down the brightness. As he unlocks his phone you see the background is a photo of his mom, his sister, and himself, on a beach somewhere. 
“They don’t live here…” you ask, but it’s not a question. You already know the answer.
“No.” he answers, his voice solemn. “They’re in Michigan.”
“You miss them.”
“Yeah, but I’ll see them soon. I think they’re gonna come down for a show. Just been too long this time. Gonna take my dad golfing, I think.” he says, opening his texts, and though you're trying not to look, you can’t help but notice that his inbox that you assumed would be full of unsaved numbers and girls names, isn’t. In fact there’s hardly any. 
He clicks on an unread message, laughing as he reads it. 
Jake
7:05pm: You still coming over later?
Jake
8:11pm: You prick how the fuck do you have plans, we aren’t even supposed to be here
Jake
9:17pm: Nevermind 😎
“How many friends did you ditch tonight?” you laugh. 
“Ehhhh, listen… Jake– He– I would have been stuck there until 3 in the morning if I went, I much prefer how my night turned out.” he giggles, sending back a skull emoji.
He opens the next thread and sighs, clearing his throat and rubbing his fist into his eye as he responds. 
Sista ✨
9:34pm: Happy Valentine’s Day, miss you! Love you & see you soon!
Danny
1:04am: Happy Valentine’s day, love you 💐
You feel your heart warm a little at the message, and you realize that maybe these girls that warned you, really didn’t know him like they thought they did. Sure he has a bit of an ego, maybe he’s a little cocky, but you kinda like it. He gives you a run for your money, and apart from the insanely hot sex earlier, he’s been a perfect gentleman. Kinda the best of both worlds if you think about it.
He locks his phone and tosses it on his nightstand, rolling over to his side and pulling you into his chest. You can smell the body wash you washed him with earlier still lingering on his skin, and as you breathe in the smell of him, and feel the warmth of his body against yours, he wraps his arms around you kissing your shoulder atop the deep red mark that his perfect teeth left. 
When the morning comes, you’re woken up by the natural light in Danny’s bedroom and a dull throbbing in your head. He’s rolled over, facing away from you as he sleeps peacefully on his clean, white sheets. 
Reaching for your phone, you suppress a groan at the soreness that radiates through your body. It's late morning and you have a few texts waiting for you already. The first is from your best friend, who you’re assuming went home with the guy she met. There’s an attachment and from the preview you see it’s a film strip, so you assume it’s a sneak preview of the photos she took of you at the show.
When you open the picture, you quickly realize you’re wrong. There are a few strips laid on the table, the first of which are a few provocative photos of her in a bralette and then wrapped in a scarf of some sort. The strip underneath has pictures of people you don’t recognize at first, but as you zoom in on the third frame, you see… Danny? Then, a text comes through asking if he was the guy you were hanging around with the night before.
Danny starts to stir in bed next to you, stretching and rolling over. He seems relieved when he lays eyes on you and sees you’re still there. You roll a little closer to him on your side, holding up the zoomed-in photo.
“Is this you?”
He lifts his head a little, craning his neck and squinting his eyes to get a better look. 
“Uh, yeah. Where’d you get that?” His voice is hoarse and sleepy, and you wonder if he’s feeling as rough as you are after the night you shared. You can’t help but smile as you look harder at the photo.
“I think my best friend spent the night with yours?” you say, pinching the screen and zooming out. There isn’t anything too lewd on the photos she sent you, but when he sees them, he puts the pieces together too.
“Oh, shit. How’d that happen?” He asks, putting his arm behind his head and laying back. You see the underside of his tattoo that wraps all the way around his bicep, your eyes drawn to the muscles you can see shifting under his skin.
“She was the photographer last night. In more ways than one, I guess.” you snicker, looking at the frames again. 
“If I would have known it was like that, I’d have taken some photos of my own…” he says, his morning voice making your stomach flip. He sees the way color rushes to your cheeks and he grins, rolling on top of you and sliding his hands up under the t-shirt you’re borrowing. You hum as he peppers your face with kisses, pulling the duvet over the two of you, in no rush to get your day started. 
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ocprompts · 1 month
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I got a couple of prompts inspired by my own OC, Steff!
How is your OC's eyesight?
How old was your OC when they had their first crush?
Can your OC sing?
Is your OC good at lying?
Does your OC give good hugs?
Has your OC ever punched someone?
Does your OC like fast food?
How does your OC stomach horror movies?
What is your OC's astrology sign?
What winter holiday does your OC celebrate?
Does your OC have any habits?
How good is your OC at charades?
What does your OC wear to bed?
What's the best gift your OC has ever received?
Has your OC ever had to stay home sick?
thank you! they're all in the queue !
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kiestrokes · 7 months
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I have no idea how many asks I've sent you this week 🤣 Sunny and I have talked about Pretty in Pink before but now I'm asking you.
Between BTS, SKZ, ATZ, who would be in each clique in Pretty in Pink? Bonus if you cast the main characters.
Ok so I find the clique structure less definitive in PiP, it’s mostly Rich vs Poor. So I’ll give you a little casting.
Pretty In Pink: Duckie - Hongjoong, please HJ sing Try a Little Tenderness to me 🤗 (arguably also Taehyung) Andie - Felix (Jimin for Taehyung though) Iona - Yeosang Jenna - Minho Simon - Mingi Blane - Jimin (Yoongi for Jimin and Tae versions) Steff - Jungkook 🫣 Benny - Hyunjin (sorry bby) Kate - Hobi (sorry bby #2)
Bonus!
Sixteen Candles: (my sleep deprived brain went here first) The Nerds my stray kids 😅 these anime loving dorks.
The Loaners ATEEZ! they're that wild mix of nerd, choir boys, skaters and artists.
The Preps Gotta be Bangtan...they're the "popular boys" who are misunderstood.
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terastalungrad · 6 months
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BB20: Wednesday 18 October
Pressure's on, gang - gonna try and catch up on Big Brother so I can watch the eviction live tonight!
Nominations! Good, I'm glad they're Wednesday rather than Thursday. A little more time before the Friday eviction.
Two nominations each this time, as is traditional. Last week, they only nominated one each. I quite like this idea. Gives a sense of escalation.
Olivia improvises a nomination song.
Jordan: You have a beautiful singing voice. A shame I have to hear it so loudly.
Jenkin nominates Henry. Jenkin finds him lazy and selfish, which he puts down to their different upbringings. Class divide! Welshman vs Tory. I am on Jenkin's side of course.
Jenkin thinks Zak tries to be friends with everyone and finds this false. Kerry said much the same thing yesterday, so here's another idea spreading memetically through the house.
Tom nominates Hallie! You leave her alone, boy. He doesn't think she's being her True Self, another popular meme phrase this year.
Tom nominates Jordan, for not pulling his weight "in this experience". I like it when they call it an experience. Although my favourite is when they call it a process as if it's the Apprentice.
Hallie nominates Zak for holding back on his opinions, a very classic Big Brother problem to have. We don't like tact in this show.
Hallie nominates Trish, who's been difficult to other housemates, and Hallie suspects Trish will treat her the same way as the group reduces in size.
Henry nominates Zak for being fake and masculine. He nominates Paul for being lowbrow.
In the living room, Hallie spies with her little eye something beginning with C. "Cocks!" Paul guesses.
Tumblr favourite Yinrun nominates Kerry because her kindness towards Yinrun seems superficial. She nominates Noky for celebrating her achievements rather than herself as a person.
It's an amazingly even spread so far. Zak has three nominations, and then seven other housemates have exactly one each.
Noky nominates Henry and Jordan for not contributing much to chores.
Chanelle nominates Zak and Trish for selfishness around food.
Paul nominates Trish for bringing up controversial topics of conversation, and Jordan for not doing chores.
Matty nominates Olivia for being loud, and Kerry for having tantrums.
Kerry nominates Zak for stirring trouble, and Matty for being annoying to her.
Olivia nominates Matty for slyly eating more than his fair share of food, and Henry for barely doing any chores.
Trish nominates Kerry for exaggerating her negative responses to tasks, and Paul for low emotional intelligence.
Jordan nominates Paul for his lowbrow humour and pranks, and Noky for making a big fuss and causing drama during the camping task.
Zak nominates Hallie for making a fuss to try and get what she wants, and Olivia for being rude and disrespectful.
Dylan nominates Matty and Henry for not doing their bit in terms of chores.
In summary!
Zak and Henry face eviction with 6 and 4 nominations respectively.
The voting was so close that, shockingly, every single housemate had the power to change the final result if they'd voted differently. Jordan, Kerry, Matty, Paul and Trish all received 3 nominations. Any could face eviction with one extra vote - and if Henry had received one vote fewer, they'd all be up.
Chanelle, Dylan, Jenkin, Tom and Yinrun received no nominations. Three big Steff faves here (the three non-English ones natch). Good result.
Stressful eviction this week though! I really like Zak, but he's become deeply unpopular in the house. I'd rather keep him than Henry, but I suspect viewers will save Henry since they enjoy his roleplay marriage to Jordan.
And ooh, look at me rooting for the handsome straight boi over the queer man. That's what happens when you support the Tories and the Royals. You lose my support.
"When you try to be everyone's friends, you actually make more enemies than you do friends." Kerry's anti-Zak sentiment has spread to Olivia now, look!
Henry's worried he'll be up. (He will be up.) Zak, Trish and Yinrun tell him he's great. They like him.
Whoever goes, it's a loss to the house. Zak and Henry both have very close friends.
Now, listen. I know Zak and Henry have become real people to us, but I really don't want the posh white Tory to beat the socialist immigrant.
Yinrun cries when she finds out who's up. :( She doesn't want to lose Henry.
Henry's sad, but doesn't want to cause a scene. Trish says he should feel free to make a scene.
"They've already nominated you. What are they going to do? Nominate you again?"
Yes, Trish! That is something they can do!
Olivia improvises a post-announcement song. Her improvised songs are all rubbish and I love them.
Trish is worried that Jordan isn't coping with Henry facing eviction. She thinks Jordan's putting on a front.
But ... Jordan will be fine, won't he?! He's not about attachment. Everyone else brought in one photo of family, and Jordan brought a photo of a nice plaza.
ARGH, ITV, I'm all for slightly longer episodes of this show, but can you please tell your schedulers so my Virgin box records the whole thing please??
Anyway, I planned ahead and recorded the next programme, so on we go.
Jordan and Matty have a lovely chat. I ship this a lot more than Jordan/Henry.
"I've made it this far in the process," says Zak. The process!! He said the thing!
Henry says he's found it better to vocalise his concerns. He advises Jordan do the same thing. Jordan is mortified. He's not holding anything in! Everyone thinks he's putting on a brave face, but he's doing nothing of the sort. He really isn't bothered. He'd prefer Henry not to go, and doesn't like Henry being upset. But he's not emotional.
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buzzzfly · 2 years
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Burna Boy Net Worth in 2022, Age, Height, Wife, Songs
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The talented and wealthy singer Burna Boy is one of Nigeria's and Africa's most successful and wealthy artists. His talents include rapping, singing, and dancing. Burna is estimated to have a net worth of $20 million. Find out more about his bio, age, marital status, girlfriend, career, albums, and cars. Burna Boy Quick Biography Celebrated Name Burna BoyReal nameDamini Ebunoluwa OguluCountryNigeriaBirthday2 July,1991Age32 yearsHeight6 feet 1 inchWeight84 kgMarital StatusSingleFatherMotherSamuel OguluBose Ogulu ProfessionSinger, songwriter, rapper, dancerBurna Boy Net Worth $20 million Family Burna Damini Ogulu, a real-life boy from Port Harcourt, was born in Nigeria. He was raised by his father, who ran a welding business, and his mother, who translate. His mother, Bose Ogulu, would later become his manager. Born and raised in southern Nigeria, Ogulu began making beats with Fruity Loops. Before moving to London for further education, he attended Corona Secondary School in Agbara (Ogun State). The next step was to study Media Communication and Culture at Oxford Brookes University, followed by Media Technology at the University of Sussex. Career A year after releasing the lead single from his debut studio album L.I.F.E. (2013), he gained prominence. A deal between Burna Boy and Bad Habit/Atlantic Records in the United States and Warner Music Group worldwide was completed in 2017. His unique dancing style, which was featured in the video version of the song, has propelled him to stardom on the album L.I.F.E. 40,000 copies of the song were sold within minutes, and the marketing rights were later sold to UBA Pacific for an impressive ten million naira. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3ZzDOygmE_I His third album, "Outside," was also a success, debuting at number three on Billboard's Reggae Albums Chart and winning him the 2018 Nigerian Entertainment Award for Album of the Year. He made his major-label debut with Outside, his third studio album. Apple Music Up Next named him an artist for 2019 and he won Best International Act at the 2019 BET Awards. In July 2019, He released his fourth studio album, African Giant. At the 62nd Annual Grammy Awards, it was nominated for Best World Music Album and won Album of the Year at the 2019 All Africa Music Awards. Burna Boy was featured by some international artists to show his ability and talent; he is not a local champion. "Lion King," in which many African singers such as Wizkid appear, as well as the song "Sunshine Riptide" by Fall Out Boy. Cars Collection Carmarthen. ng lists Burna Boy's collection of vehicles as follows: A Range Rover autobiography, a Ferrari 458 Italia, a Rolls-Royce Dawn Convertible, a Bentley Continental GT, a G Wagon, and a Mercedes-Benz S-Class. Albums - Burn Notice - Burn Identity - Redemption - Steel and Copper - L.I.F.E - African Giant - Twice as tall - Redemption - Outside - On Space Girlfriend Stefflon Don is a Jamaican-British rapper and singer. Burna Boy hadn't been in a long-term relationship with her, but he did have a brief relationship with her. Burna Boy Wife Burna and Stefflon appeared to be doing well, and they were discussing marriage until it was revealed that Burna had been seeing Instagram model Jo Pearl for quite some time( Burna started dating UK singer Steff around the same time.) Jo Pearl wrote on Instagram two years ago that she had been in a relationship with Burna Boy. The couple was together in 2018, and she believed they were still together despite his trip to Nigeria. Her claims were made around the time when he started dating Stefflon Don. Burna Boy Social Accounts and Followers InstagramSee Profile11.8 MillionTwitterSee Profile7.7 MillionYou TubeBurna Boy3.31 Million Burna Boy Net Worth Burna Boy net worth is $20 million as of 2022, making him Africa's richest musician. It's no wonder that Burna Boy is one of the world's best musicians. Also, check out: Chief Keef Net Worth in 2022 FAQs What is Burna Boy's first song? Burna Boy emerged as one of Nigeria's hottest stars early in the 2010s with his fusion of dancehall, reggae, Afro-beat, and pop. "Like to Party," his 2012 single produced by LeriQ, proved to be his breakout track and led to his debut LP, L.I.F.E, a year later. Which tribe is Burna Boy? Burna Boy is Igbo by tribe Which language is Burna Boy? English, Yoruba, and Igbo are the languages of Burna Boy. How tall is Burna Boy? He is 6 feet 1 inch tall. Read the full article
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ricmlm · 2 years
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If I'm allowed... this is a song and a poem. A song made from a poem. There are no colors in songs and poems.
Writing Fighting Words In November 1861, a woman named Julia Ward Howe and her husband visited Washington, D.C. While there, Howe, a published poet, heard Union troops belting out a well-known marching song called “John Brown’s Body,” after the famous abolitionist, John Brown. A preacher standing with Howe encouraged her to write new lyrics to the tune. “I replied that I had often wished to do so,” Howe later wrote. I… awoke the next morning in the gray of the early dawn, and to my astonishment found that the wished-for lines were arranging themselves in my brain. I lay quite still until the last verse had completed itself in my thoughts, then hastily arose, saying to myself, I shall lose this if I don’t write it down immediately. I… began to scrawl the lines almost without looking…. Having completed this, I lay down again and fell asleep, but not before feeling that something of importance had happened to me.” That “something of importance” proved to be the words to the “Battle Hymn of the Republic.” In February 1862, she sold her poem to the Atlantic Monthly, a well-known magazine, for five dollars. The new song spread quickly through the Union armies and was adopted by Union supporters who wanted to teach the southern rebels a lesson. (Oddly, it had been a southerner named William Steffe who had written the original music.) Howe’s version was packed with Biblical imagery and phrasing. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord: He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword: His truth is marching on. (Chorus) Glory, glory, hallelujah! Glory, glory, hallelujah! Glory, glory hallelujah! His truth is marching on. Howe took dead aim at slavery in her lyrics. She and her husband were strong anti-slavery activists, called abolitionists. Included in one verse of the hymn were the words “let us die to make men free”—to fight to end slavery, in other words. Howe’s new words also angered southerners. Not only did the song sing for an end to slavery, this “hymn”—a holy, church song—claimed that God was on the North’s side. The Poet: Julia Ward Howe (1819-1910) Julia Ward HoweDespite pressures of the time to provide for her husband and home in very traditional ways, Julia Ward Howe was quite socially active in circles that included other authors such as Charles Margaret Fuller, Charles Sumner, Ralph Waldo Emerson, and Charles Dickens. A lyrical poet and prolific author in her own right, Howe is best remembered for her new words to the “Battle Hymn of the Republic.” She was active in prison reform, the fight to end slavery, and the fight to win equal rights for women. Julia Ward Howe’s efforts for social justice continued after the war. In 1870, she campaigned for a Mother’s Day for Peace, a precursor of Mother’s Day. She also pushed for women’s suffrage—the right for women to vote.
OFFICIALLY - IN THE LIBRARY OF THE CONGRESS🇺🇸
[Additional History: The song first gained popularity around Charleston, South Carolina, where it was sung as a Methodist Camp Meeting song, particularly in churches belonging to free Blacks. By contrast, it was also used early on as a marching song on army posts. The song gathered new verses following the insurrection at Harper's Ferry, led by John Brown and carried out by a cadre of nineteen men on October 16, 1859. Brown's actions, trial and subsequent execution made him a martyr to Abolitionists and African-Americans and prompted some people to add the following lines to Steffe's by then popular song.
Some have also theorized that the new verses were written about an inept Army sergeant named John Brown, thus giving the lyrics a kind of humorous double entendre. By the time of the Civil War "John Brown's Body" had become a very popular marching song with Union Army regiments, particularly among the Colored troops. The Twelfth Massachusetts Regiment, in particular, has been credited with spreading the song's fame on their march to the South, where Confederate soldiers then inverted the meaning of their words and sang, "John Brown's a-hanging on a sour apple tree." The war's rivalry continued to be carried on in music as the northerners then sang in turn, "They will hang Jeff Davis to a sour apple tree." But it was when Julia Ward Howe visited Washington, DC in 1861 that the tune properly came to be called "The Battle Hymn of the Republic." Howe and her husband, both of whom were active abolitionists, experienced first-hand a skirmish between Confederate and Union troops in nearby Virginia, and heard the troops go into battle singing "John Brown's Body." That evening, November 18, 1861, Ward was inspired to write a poem that better fit the music. It began "Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord." Her poem, which was published in the Atlantic Monthly in February 1862 soon became the song known as "The Battle Hymn of the Republic."]
TO ALL OF THOSE WHO LOST THEIR LIVES IN BATTLE
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I was wondering if you’d be willing to share some more Phil Stories™? The combination of the tale and your story telling turns it to gold dust, I laughed out loud at both accounts. If you’d like not to share more, or don’t have the energy, I fully understand though! Thank you for sharing those two!
Well, here's a couple of small ones to tide you over if you like!
The Scotch Egg Incident
The Scotch Egg Incident happened when he was trying to be vegan. Unusually for Phil, he was actually quite methodical about the whole switching-diet-thing - it began with veggie Mondays, which became veggie Monday-Wednesday, and then veggie weekdays, and then the whole week but with Occasional Pepperamis, and then Actual Veggie when he replaced his Pepperamis with what Phil calls "walking cheese" i.e. cheese that may be eaten as a snack whilst walking. He transitioned to veganism in a similar way.
(Quick side note about the walking cheese, with may also help to explain some of this. He recently rang my husband with a walking cheese question.
Phil: So, do they make mozzarella with nicer water? Because I drink it but it's always disgusting.
Steff: ...sorry, Phil, did you just say you've been drinking mozzarella brine?
Phil: Yeah like it's a snack and a drink at the same time so it's great walking cheese but it tastes horrible :(
Steff: STOP DRINKING MOZZARELLA BRINE
We have transitioned him to Babybels.)
Anyway, he came to our house one day with a Scotch egg, and we were like... Phil have you given up veganism?
"No?" says Phil, slightly confused, and then looks at his Scotch egg in dawning horror. "Oh my god, is it not vegan?"
"No Phil," says Steff, patiently. "It's an egg wrapped in sausage meat."
"Oh my god!" says Phil. "I thought it was breadcrumbs!"
"Phil," says I. "It's also an egg."
So that was the day I, an omnivore, had to explain to Phil why he didn't believe in eating eggs.
(He finished the egg. Unrelatedly, he's not a vegan anymore.)
2. Phil in the World of Work
So he had a few jobs over the pandemic. As I mentioned in the first Phil story, he's currently in a call centre, and I found out the other day that he doesn't actually know how to put customers on hold, so when he doesn't like someone he sings his own hold music at them.
"No one's ever called me out on it," he told Steff earnestly, which I'm sure is true because how the fuck would you??! Like, you call the company to complain about your internet or whatever, and the guy on the other end listens to your angry diatribe and then goes 'Okay, let me put you on hold a second while I find your account' and then suddenly starts singing Never Gonna Give You Up down the phone - what the fuck do you even say to that??? Phil.
But, before the call centre, he worked in a factory in the Valleys that manufactures car parts, and he lost that job because too high a percentage of his car parts were failing their quality checks for having "An unacceptable level of human blood" in them
WHAT A SENTENCE I KNOW
Turns out Phil, being a very clumsy man who should not have been allowed to operate machinery, had cut himself while working over the conveyor belt, and decided it was probably fine, and so just kept working. His supervisor had to call him into the office like "NEVER in ALL MY 25 YEARS of working in car manufacture have I EVER SEEN SUCH A THING. There was blood ON the exhaust. THERE WAS BLOOD IN THE EXHAUST. WHY WAS THERE SO MUCH BLOOD PHIL."
He also took the wallet of a racist coworker there and sealed it in a plastic bag and hid it in the bottom of a water filled barrel and then gave the guy a series of "riddles and clues" to find it except Phil's idea of clues are really more vibes-based than logic-based, so it took hours and every time the racist guy was like PHIL GIVE ME BACK MY WALLET and Phil kept going "It's an Easter egg hunt! Happy Easter! You're so lucky!"
(He did get the wallet back. Phil did not keep the job.)
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itneedsmoregays · 1 month
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Treat my friend better or else...
Buster: You know, Meena, I've noticed Darius is being a lot less... "extra" during your rehearsals than when you met him a few days ago.
Steff: And he's actually calling you by your name instead of "Gina".
Meena: Yeah, I feel more comfortable now. I just don't know how it happened.
Ash: Oh, that's 'cause I pulled him aside and talked things over with him calmly.
Steff: (notices Darius glancing at Ash nervously while rubbing his behind) ...You jabbed him with one of your quills, didn't you?
Ash: I jabbed him with one of my quills.
Meena: ASH!
Ash: No thanks are necessary.
Buster: You can't just injure fellow cast members!
Ash: (folds her arms proudly) I will not apologise for defending my friend's honour.
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ilovpcy-remade · 6 years
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the only romantic gesture im capable of is sending youtube links to people 
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fashionpaperch · 4 years
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Sing meinen Song – Das Schweizer Tauschkonzert 🎷
TV24 startet die erste Staffel «Sing meinen Song – Das Schweizer Tauschkonzert». Mit einem durchschnittlichen Marktanteil von 11.3% und mit 17.4% in der Spitze platziert sich TV24 am Freitagabend auf Platz 1 der privaten TV-Sender. 👍Jetzt den ganzen Artikel auf Fashionpaper lesen: https://www.fashionpaper.ch/music-kino/sing-meinen-song-das-schweizer-tauschkonzert/
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batgirlsay · 2 years
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Expressions of Love, Kindness, and Encouragement
A Zenyuki Valentine’s Playlist (for Weeks 1 and 2 by @zenyuki-festival-2021​)
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I tried a lot of different strategies for this month’s playlists… eventually rediscovering Dave’s Midnight Television and old Mae stuff after his latest livestream so the one long playlist became three smaller playlists (with a classic long Mae song at the end of each). (The three playlists also ended up being chronological again: from beginnings to present time together to reminiscing.)  This one focuses on the themes for Weeks 1 and 2, mostly words of affirmation through confessions of love as analogies and acts of service through chivalry.
Begin Again (Taylor’s Version)- Taylor Swift Something So Sweet- Midnight Television (from Dave Elkins of Mae) State of Grace (Taylor’s Version)- Taylor Swift Sense You Make- Steff and the Articles Really Something- Aaron Sprinkle Bloom- Mae
Summary lyrics are cited after the cut (and I may post a few separate lyric mash-up posts for each playlist):
Begin Again (Taylor’s Version)- Taylor Swift
I walk to you You pull my chair out and help me in And you don't know how nice that is, but I do And you throw your head back laughing like a little kid Thinking all love ever does is break and burn and end But on a Wеdnesday in a café, I watched it begin again
Something So Sweet- Midnight Television (from Dave Elkins of Mae)
I’ve been buzzing on your love Just like a honeybee I don’t know how you do it Something so sweet now I’m used to it You’re my garden in the park Every flower a beautiful remark So much color all the day long 
State of Grace (Taylor’s Version)- Taylor Swift
And I never saw you coming And I'll never be the same You come around and the armor falls
Pierce the room like a cannonball Now all we know is don’t let go Mosaic broken hearts
But this love is brave and wild This is a state of grace This is the worthwhile fight These are the hands of fate
Sense You Make- Steff and the Articles
How much sense you make to me Like the wind blew you so perfectly Like you have the only key You fell into the song that I was singing all the time
Really Something- Aaron Sprinkle
Some days I actually forget That this is really something One smile from you and that is it
Bloom- Mae
Riding on my wave these sails are open I've been rolling on a wind that's never been mine And all that night I'm floating With the other ships
I remember when we came together we were just a beacon for the lonely Yeah, when I've lost my way I walked around it Yeah, but the bloom of hope it keeps repairing We watched the sun set fire to the sky that day We warmed up to so many things we never could have made And it comes to this
I'll search for you and find you These questions are just answers on the other side of clarity Oh, hearts may break to make more room Yeah, but love will find a way to bloom
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captkota · 3 years
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Should I post Steff singing, Blue pulling her around the room or her gaming and blowing at her hair? She’s so cute.
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infectedpaul · 2 years
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watching this review makes me wanna redraw when i drew steff and dexter singing take a hint
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sillyfeathers · 4 years
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Drunken Giggles (Fosters x Reader)
Drunken Giggles Characters: Lena, Steff, Callie, Mariana Foster & reader (all platonic) Summary: Dealing with two drunk sisters and two annoyed mums isn’t always easy, but you’re starting to realise it’s not so bad. Warnings: fluff, slight profanity, implied underage drinking Words: 1199
A/N: I’ve only just started watching the Fosters (as in I’m halfway through the first season) but I REALLY wanted to write a fic for them, and inspiration struck! I wasn’t originally going to post it, but I thought I might as well :) <3
You creaked the door open, wincing as Callie and Mariana mimicked the noise. You shushed them, hearing Stef and Lena moving around the kitchen just through the wall. Your foster sisters couldn’t care less about your concerns, stumbling inside and pointing at your worried expression with huge grins.
“Shut up, you two,” you whispered, grabbing them both by the arms and walking as quickly as you could to the stairs.
“Okay, get up, get up.” You carefully manoeuvred them in front of you, and in some sort of miracle, you were able to get them safely up the stairs and into their room without Lena or Stef noticing.
You let out the breath you’d been holding, sitting down on the bed while the girls danced sloppily around the room, Mariana singing a made-up tune under her breath.
“That’s enough, guys, if Stef and Lena catch us they’re gonna kill me,” you said pointedly, throwing a pillow at Mariana. She giggled as it bounced off her head, sauntering over to you. You groaned, lying down and throwing your arms over your face.
“We’ll be fine, Y/N,” Mariana slurred, walking two fingers over your stomach. You jerked, pushing her hand away. 
“Go to sleep!”
“No!” Callie whined, collapsing next to you. She grumpily started to poke at your side, and you couldn’t stop the giggle that slipped past your lips, slapping at her hands.
“Quit it!”
“But it’s funny,” Mariana giggled, her hands joining Callie’s. Desperate giggles poured out as they progressed from poking to full on tickling, their clumsy fingers dancing across your stomach and sides.
“Stohohop!” you squeaked, trying to keep your voice down as the two continued their torment. But they were having far too much fun, and so they ignored you, Mariana now tickling your stomach with both hands while Callie spidered up your sides and under your arms. Helpless, giggly laughter overcame you, as you tried and failed to squirm away from their determined hands.
Your snorts and squeals were infectious, and soon they’d thrown their drunk selves over you and were giggling just as much as you were, their fingers curling underneath themselves and gleefully tickling any part of you they could reach.
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“Honey, did the girls get home?” Stef glanced towards the closed bedroom door, behind from which she could hear muffled squeaks and scuffles.
“I don’t think so, why?” Lena emerged from the bathroom, tilting her head at her wife.
Stef narrowed her eyes. “I wouldn’t be so sure.” She gestured out into the hallway, and the two women walked quietly up to the room, knocking twice before entering.
They just about stopped in their tracks, as whatever they were expecting to see, it certainly wasn’t this.
You, Callie and Mariana were sprawled out on the bed, their uncoordinated fingers wreaking havoc on your ticklish self. Your head was thrown back, soft giggles bubbling from your lips, sent into mild hysteria by the gentle tickles.
For a second, Lena and Stef savoured the sight of their three girls caught in a carefree moment of happiness. But then they remembered that they did have to be moms, and so, after exchanging a content look, Stef cleared her throat.
Immediately, Mariana and Callie sprung back, leaving you to curl up in a giggling ball. Lena bit back a smile, tapping you on the shoulder.
“Y/N, could you give us a minute?” she asked. You tried to stop your residual laughter, your face burning as you nodded and quickly exited the room.
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Considering both other girls were drunk, Lena and Stef didn’t waste too much time trying to reprimand them. By the time they were finished, however, you had had time to calm yourself down and begin worrying about what was going to happen to you.
“Y/N?” Stef’s quiet voice from down the hall made you start, and you got to your feet, not knowing where to look.
“The girls are going to sleep now, let's go into our room,” Lena suggested, and you just nodded, following them in. 
You stood awkwardly as the door shut, shifting from one foot to the other. Noticing your discomfort, Lena patted the duvet between her and Stef, and you sat down, playing with your fingers.
“I’m sorry,” you said, after not even a second’s pause. “It was dumb, and I should’ve looked after them more – I’m really sorry.”
There was a light chuckle, and you felt an arm around your shoulders.
“It’s not your responsibility to look after them, Y/N. They’re old enough to know what’s right and what’s wrong. That’s all on them.” Lena squeezed your hand as she spoke.
“We just wish you’d called us,” Stef chimed in. “No matter what’s going on, good or bad, you can always call us and we’ll always help. We might not be happy about it, but we love you all. And we’ll help you.” 
For the first time, you looked up at your foster moms, a small smile on your lips.
“Am I grounded?” you asked.
“No, I don’t think so,” Stef replied. “Mariana and Callie are, absolutely, but I don’t think your situation warrants the same punishment.”
You paused. “So...extra chores, then?”
“No, Y/N,” Lena laughed, and you felt her hand slide down your back to your waist. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was about to happen, and you tried to pull away, biting back a grin. “Wahait – wait, no.”
“Oh yes.” Lena smiled as she spoke, giving your side a squeeze. You began to blush again, shaking your head and trying to squirm away from the two. You felt Stef fluttering her fingers around your ears and neck, and you broke, dissolving into giggles.
“Shihihit –” you mumbled, weakly batting at the hands coming at you from seemingly every angle. You heard the two let out mock gasps, and it was met with one of your own as you felt Lena’s nails tickling gently at your sides.
“You know the rule about cursing in this house, don’t you?” Stef teased, squeezing the back of your neck. You were giggling far too much to respond, and when you felt a pair of hands spidering up your ribs, you crumbled, slumping against your tormentors in defeat.
“We were going to let you off without punishment, considering it wasn’t really your fault,” Stef began, squeezing rapidly at your knee.
“But we thought it necessary to give at least some incentive,” Lena finished, her fingers now scribbling between your ribs. You could only reply with a helpless whine of laughter, struggling against your foster moms as they tickled you to pieces, gladly showing off their years of experience.
They kept you like that for a few more minutes – trapped between them, giggling and squirming, at the mercy of their delicate, ruthless tickles – until they decided to let you go, instead pulling you into a ‘mom sandwich’, as they called it.
“If those two can remember anything from tonight in the morning, you’re going to be in for it,” Stef chuckled into your ear. You cringed a little at the thought, but deep down...maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.
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