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carewyncromwell · 1 year

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“Are we too far apart? Two worlds among the stars? You’re gonna take a piece of my heart if you leave... So it’s two separate ways, Or am I too late to say, I wanna fight for what we got? ‘Cause I believe in family...in family...”

~“Family” by TobyMac

x~x~x~x

I gotta say, I didn’t think I’d become so attached to Carewyn’s youngest cousin Tristan when I decided to write for him in that one drabble I did, but...yeah, here he ended up as a young adult with Carewyn in my sketchbook! Go figure! XD

But yeah, this is Tristan Cromwell, age 18, and dressed to the Goth Victorian nines. Yes, that is his aesthetic -- he would’ve 150% been that Tim Burton-obsessed weirdo kid, if he’d been raised in the Muggle World. I see this being him reaching out to his now-nearly-30-year-old cousin Carewyn at the Ministry of Magic, specifically talking at that one fountain in the center Atrium, which has gone through some changes since its pre-Wizarding-War days and especially since the Wizarding War itself. As you can see, Tristan’s grown up a lot since he appears in that drabble -- a bit personality-wise, yes, but definitely physically. Tristan ends up being the tallest and lankiest of all the Cromwells at 5′11″, making him both an inch taller than his father and the same height as his deceased grandfather, Charles. It also means he towers over Carewyn, the smallest Cromwell at 5′3″.

Despite his and Carewyn’s differences, though, Tristan as a young adult really becomes all the more motivated to fix the rift in his broken family. (I’m not joking, while working on this, I must have played Scott Shattuck’s cover of Waiting on a Miracle a good twenty times, imagining it as a theme for adult!Tristan.) As Blaise’s only son and heir, he’s presumed to be the one who’ll have to take on the mantle of leadership for the Clan, even while the youngest of the Cromwell cousins, so Tristan feels an obligation to do what his father has been unable to and bring Carewyn, Jacob, and Lane back into the fold. One lesson Tristan does internalize that Blaise never does, however, is that love is about sacrifice, not just possessive control...a lesson bolstered by his interactions with his favorite "bastard cousin,” Carewyn. I could even see Tristan seeking out Carewyn’s help with getting a position at the Ministry as an adult, since his father’s influence is far less than Charles’s was back in the day and Tristan’s lack of real-world experience, connections, and social skills hampers him in his job search.

“I’m a Cromwell! I’m not supposed to have to struggle to get the respect owed me.”

Fortunately for however proud and entitled Tristan is thanks to Blaise’s toxic influence, he also is painfully aware of his duty to his family and is determined to be the best Head he can be...even if it required him taking a desk job he’d be miserable at.

“Wouldn’t I, what, prefer to do something else? Obviously. I’ve been locked up inside nearly my whole life -- you don’t think I don’t wish every day I could just pack my bags and go running off into the sunset on some whirlwind adventure, the way your brother does? Hell, reckon even your precious Quidditch player’s able to do that sometimes, with how much travel he must get up to...

“...But...I can’t. Not when it’d break Father’s heart. Not when the whole Clan needs leadership, and just about all of them presume it has to be me. It’s not like it could be anyone else, really. Elmer’s not the leadership sort, and Arsen and Kain...they can’t even score a promotion with the Hitwizards, let alone take charge of the Clan. And Heather, Dahlia, and Iris, feh -- the Manor would probably get burned to the ground in a week if they called the shots.

“I was raised to do this, by my father. I have to do this, the way he has -- but I can’t do it his way. Not just because the Cromwell name’s been tarnished and Father can’t help me get ahead the way Grandfather did for him, but because...well...”

“...You’re not your father.”

“...Yes. And...if anything is going to get better, with our family...if I’m ever going to make things right...I can’t be like him, either. No matter how much I love him and no matter how much I want to make him proud...if I’m going to make that dream come true, I have to do things my way.

“So just...put in a good word for me, will you? Maybe Father’s word doesn’t have weight here at the Ministry, but yours does. You’re the Ministry’s Star Prosecutor, after all. Even if I do have to be stuck indoors all day, well, at least it’ll be a different ‘indoors.’ And I know Father will be pleased, if I ended up in your Department. Sure he’ll see it as the perfect excuse to try to lure you back home...”

Tristan’s lips were curled up in an amused, mischievous smirk, when he said this: one that made him more closely resemble that thirteen-year-old boy Carewyn had seen back at the Cromwell Manor during the War.

As one can expect, Carewyn didn’t flaunt her influence around to get Tristan a job the way he wanted...but, feeling some compassion for her cousin, she did line up several promising Ministry internship opportunities for him -- one with the Department of International Magical Cooperation, one in the Department of Magical Games and Sports’s office closer to Quidditch League Headquarters, one at St. Mungo’s sponsored by the Accidental Magical Reversal Squad, and even three for the Department of the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. None of those opportunities, however, were in Wizarding Law.

Sorry, Tristan -- but I think you’ve had more than enough of being stuck indoors.

After much deliberation, Tristan selected one of the internships for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, specifically the one that required him to work with the Dragon Research and Restraint Bureau, exploring more humane methods of transport for the creatures across Muggle-occupied areas. Tristan’s extensive knowledge of magical creature anatomy ended up being very helpful in this task -- though the best part of the experience, by far, ended up being when he was able to finally see a real-life Welsh Green for the first time. After only ever knowing such creatures as models and drawings in books, Tristan almost couldn’t breathe when he was able to actually reach out and touch one, with his own hands.

Blaise would probably be more than a little disconcerted about his son ending up so close to such a dangerous creature -- but in that moment, Tristan couldn’t keep the huge grin off his face as he ran a hand gently along the dragon’s comb, rubbing his wet eyes on his sleeve. He’d never been so happy in all his life.

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #my art #tristan cromwell #carewyn cromwell #my writing #blaise cromwell #jacob cromwell #orion amari #yes for the record carewyn's become legal partners with orion at this point #blaise hates orion's guts LMAO #he thinks carewyn deserves better than 'some orphaned broom jockey'#tristan acts condescending too because he's seen the whole situation through his father's filtered perspective #but he at least is a bit more conscious of the fact that orion's a famous quidditch star #arsen and kain both love quidditch like their mum did XDDD #iris also may or may not have swooned over some of the sexier quidditch stars out there a few times #when she didn't think the adults could hear >)#dahlia's type is more 'scholar' and heather's type is more 'action hero'#but yeah anyway tangent aside tristan's actually a bit more okay with carewyn dating orion because hey he's famous #that's cool #even if yeah winnie isn't even getting married and having a 'real' family that weirdo *impish grin*#hey tristan is blaise's son what are you gonna do #at least he's more just immature naive and proud rather than an emotionally toxic gaslighter #tristan has actually thought a few times that carewyn would be a good leader of the Clan #but he knows she wouldn't be able to bring them together -- there's just too much baggage there #if he's going to be head of the Clan though tristan would want carewyn's support #he wants both her and his father's advice on this journey he's taking and he's hoping to walk a path between them #time will tell how well that will go #this pic is set in 2002 for the record -- tristan is 18 and carewyn is 29

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newsofthenight · 4 months

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Stunning Model Rises to DJ Stardom

A former top model, whose knowledge of music could best be described as ‘nothing’, has leveraged her looks and enlisted the help of a nerdy sidekick to catapult herself into the limelight as a famous DJ. Meet Bella Bassdrop, the mesmerizing beauty who’s taken the DJ world by storm despite openly admitting she has no idea how to make music. Bella’s secret weapon? A weird, and wholly unpopular…

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#beauty #dance #dance music #disc jockey #dj #hot #model #music #nerd #star #stardom #techno

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beginningspod · 10 months

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It's time for Beginnings, the podcast where writer and performer Andy Beckerman talks to the comedians, writers, filmmakers and musicians he admires about their earliest creative experiences and the numerous ways in which a creative life can unfold.

On today's episode, I talk to musician and composer Rob Mazurek. Originally from Jersey City, Rob started playing trumpet and cornet in high school after his family moved to Naperville, Illinois. He first learned the foundations of improvised music while studying jazz theory and practice with David Bloom at the Bloom School of Jazz in Chicago, and then became a mainstay of Chicago jazz in the 1980s. In 1994, Rob formed the Chicago Underground Collective with guitarist Jeff Parker and a cast of revolving players, which in turn birthed Isotope 217, both groups releasing albums on the seminal label Thrill Jockey. In the decades since then, Rob founded the Exploding Star Orchestra, has earned numerous commissions and awards, and in general has created more music and art than a short bio can properly elucidate. Earlier this spring, Rob's most recent work for Exploding Star Orchestra, Lightning Dreamers, was released on International Anthem, and like everything else Rob creates, it's wonderful!

I'm on Twitter here and you can get the show with:

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#beginnings #rob mazurek #jazz #chicago #chicago underground collective #isotope 217 #thrill jockey #exploding star orchestra #international anthem

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cetriarts · 2 years

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OMNIPRESENT

MC COOK-E goes from solo to band.

She's the lead MC and BreakDancer of the group, Ghost (Blue/bottom) is the DJ, ChibiLuv (yellow/top right) is the Singer, and XiA (white/top left) is their Manager.

NOTE: The Neko MC: Cook-E represents my love for Hip-Hop and that love has expanded throughout her band...but they do more than just preform. 😉

NOTE 2: They are in the process of being redrawn, marketed version will look cleaner and have better anatomy (no I don't mean slimming).

Thought I'd give you something colorful for a change (been a while). 😁

OmniPresent™ by ©etriArts™

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moonage-gaydream · 3 months

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Idea for how Pepper and Venus met. Since Venus is a popular and famous DJ, she tends to travel a lot. The event she was booked for was in Kansas City, only three hours from her home of St. Louis. Pepper was asked to be security for the event so she keeps her Violet Ring on her just in case.

When Venus arrives, she immediately clocks the ring on Pepper's finger and goes "Me too!"

Yesss I love this! At first, Pepper's like "huh?" But then she notices Venus saw her Star Sapphire ring and was like "Oh, you mean you're a Sapphire too? Awesome! Ah, it's so good to see another Star Sapphire!" And they hit it off from there 🥰

#venus parks #pepper jackson #star sapphire #star sapphire dc #disc jockey #security #kansas city missouri #st. louis missouri

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snailygoon · 9 months

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Break my heart, Break your heart

My star spangled boy. Aka earth’s most miserable jockey, Johnny Joestar. He’s my favorite and makes me feel emotions I can’t quite articulate. Insanity, probably, but I don’t know for sure (also, shoutout to @iamyrena who said Johnny should wear a headscarf/bandanna. No one has ever been more correct)

#my art #sbr #steel ball run #jjba #jjba part seven #johnny joestar #jojos bizzare adventure #jojo fanart #artists on tumblr

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mistsofavalon13 · 2 years

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the parallels between how poc are treated and how animals are treated in nope (2022) was perfect. one of the first scenes in the movie is when oj is on set for a commercial, and i was immediately as uncomfortable as he was. when he introduces himself to the white actress, she looks scared of him because his name is oj. she sees a black man with that name and can’t hide her inner thoughts. then the pa guy is confused as to where the “older one” is, clearly giving the message that he doesn’t trust oj to be a competent person. the pa sees him as an untrained boy, and doesn’t listen when oj tried to tell him not to look in the horse’s eyes. then when em explains the story of the first moving picture, we see that the black jockey and the horse aren’t even on the same level. people talk about the horse, but they don’t know anything about the man riding it.

then, there’s jupe and the gordy the chimp. jupe was a child star in a western comedy, and the poster itself gave me the wrong feeling. jupe and the unnamed black child actor he starred with were so clearly being used as a spectacle. it made me think of blazing saddles, how the idea of a black sheriff is absurd and funny. however, blazing saddles uses that as commentary and as a way to send a message, while in nope, we see that jupe was the victim of a film industry that tokenized him. then, with the chimpanzee, we see that same tokenization. a sitcom of a white family that includes an asian child and a chimp. it’s clear that both are meant to be equally funny; an asian kid is just as absurd as a chimp in human clothes and a birthday hat.

then, when we see him try to use the alien to create the same spectacle he was a part of in his youth, he realizes far too late that he’s made a mistake. that you can’t rely on an animal. his wife makes a comment about how working with trained animals is unpredictable, and we see in his eyes that he knows what’s about to happen. he put his trust in the behavior of a wild animal and now he’s paying the price and feeling the same fear he felt as a child.

#this movie was insane and i have so many feelings about it!!!!!!!#nope #nope 2022

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yygaming · 2 years

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The Hong Kong Jockey Club Gaming

The Hong Kong Jockey Club Gaming encourages responsible gaming. We offer a one-stop shop for instructional films, materials, and other resources.

The Hong Kong Jockey Club is the government's only approved operator to provide horse racing and football betting services, as well as to administer the Mark Six lottery on its behalf.

The Club supports ethical gaming practises and works with the authorities to eliminate illegal gambling. While meeting public demand for gambling, the Club plans to reinvest winnings in community development and charitable causes. In doing so, it also aids the government in preventing illegal gambling, so limiting potential harm to both individuals and communities.

Because of its unusual not-for-profit business model, the Club's income is ploughed back into the community through charity donations, betting fees, and taxes, emphasizing its aim of giving back to society. It is worth noting that, aside from the government, the Club is Hong Kong's largest single community benefactor and taxpayer. The Club is also one of the city's largest employers.

#The Hong Kong Jockey Club Gaming #SJM #Sic Bo #Slot Machine #Star Entertainment #SB Entertainment

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kenziesimsblog · 6 months

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SIMS 3 HIGH SCHOOL STEROTYPE LEGACY

hi guys! I decided to make my very own legacy for sims 3! I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!

some traits are repeated because they fit!

GEN 1-EMO

you never really fit in when you lived in your small town so as soon as you became a young adult you moved to the bustling city where you began a new alternative band.

traits - over-emotional, loner, virtuous, shy, and night owl

lifetime wish-rock star

career- music

requirements

must fall in love with another emo. -must name kids after alternative band members / singers, albums or songs.

must have fun colored hair. -must have piercing (s)

dye hair at least 3 times during each life stage

must complete lifetime wish.

master guitar skill

start a band. -must be close to bandmates

perform every or most gig you get. -reach level 5 celeb status

GEN 2-POPULAR

you are the exact opposite of your parent but hey when you're the kid of a famous band member you're bound to be popular.

traits- diva, irresistible, social butterfly, party animal, and flirty

lifetime wish- super popular..

career-any

requirements must have 2 best friends. choose either being a mean popular or a nice one. throw tons of parties be in at least 3 relationships before finding the one. marry the nerdiest person. master the charisma skill. don't lose any friends. chat with friends at least once week have at least 1 boy and 1 girl

GEN 3-NERD

your parent always taught you to be yourself and to show how smart you are!

traits - genius, bookworm, socially awkward, eccentric, and loser

lifetime wish- perfect student

career- scientist requirements always have an "A" in school go to university. earn your degree with a perfect GPA. earn a scholarship. be a strict parent. if kid has lower than a yell at them meet your partner in university. make kids have daily chores. make kids have curfew of 7. master logic skill master inventor skill

GEN 4- THE CLASS CLOWN

your parent was super strict and you vowed to never be like them

traits good sense of humor, rebellious, easily impressed, inappropriate,and friendly.

lifetime wish- distinguished director.

career- director

requirements have a bad relationship with your parents. have a "D" in school. always pull pranks on school and home become a director for comedies (pretend) master street art skill have at least 1 girl steal partner from someone else

GEN 5- HORSE GIRL

horses, horses, horses that's all you talk about traits - equestrian, loves the outdoors, ambitious, athletic ,and lucky

lifetime wish- the jockey

career- none all your time is spent with horses

requirements have a horse as a child. must be female. have at least 2 horses ride them every day. marry a cowboy/cowgirl. enter racing. live in a farmhouse. master riding skill have 1 kid that you have a bad relationship with.

GEN 6-BULLY

your mom only paid attention to her horses and not you resulting in a bully

traits- evil, mean spirited , grumpy, brooding, and coward

lifetime wish- ceo of mega corporation

career - business requirements be hated by everyone. have one "friend" that is a sidekick. get pregnant or impregnate a one-night stand. have baby in your household. co parent with one night stand even though you hate it. marry one night stand at middle/end of adult life. have one more child/ or multiples before you reach elder status. at least perform two mean actions a day

GEN 7- GAMER

your parents didnt care what you did they spent to much time hating each other so what better way to distract your self then video games

traits- couch potato, computer whiz, heavy sleeper, night owl and loner

lifetime wish- blog artist

career - video game developer

requirements attend university to master nerd social group. drop out when maxed nerd group. marry college sweetheart. cheat on college sweetheart with person you met online. have one kid with college sweetheart.

have more with new partner play video games every day. run a blog about games. master logic skill

GEN 8- THEATER KID

you spent all of your childhood watching plays dreaming one day it would be you

traits- star quality, natural born performer , hopeless romantic , dramatic, and ambitious

lifetime wish- superstar actor.

career- actor

requirements name kids after real life actors woohoo 5 celebs. complete lifetime wish. get pregnant by 3 different celebs. have at least 3 kids have a bad reputation. ruin your reputation at least once. never get married. spoil your kids.

GEN 9- JOCK

you lived in a booming town with a big gym where you spent most of your time

traits- handy, athletic, vegetarian, green thumb, and daredevil

lifetime wish- become a superstar athlete.

career- athletic

requirements master lifetime wish. be a vegetarian. have a garden of healthy vegetables. workout everyday max gardening skill max handy skill max athletic skill meet partner at gym. have a big family (4 kids)

GEN 10-ARTSY

traits- artistic, avant garde, adventurous, perfectionist, virtuoso

lifetime wish-master of arts

career- self employed artist

requirements master guitar skill master painting skill travel to different countries for inspiration meet partner in another country. perform for tips. sell paintings. at least always have one animal in house house is very colorful. do photography on the side. master lifetime wish. go out with family every holiday.

be sure to tag me in posts if you decide to play!

#sims 3 blog #ts3cc #sims 3 gameplay #sims 3 screenshots #simblr #sims 3 #ts3 #sims 3 cc #sims 3 legacy #sims 3 lepacy challenge #sims 3 legacy challenge #ts3 challenge #sims 3 challenge #ts3 challenges #sims 3 challenges

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billthedrake · 5 months

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NIGHT SHIFT

It was twilight more than actual dawn, but as I heard the sound of the metal clink in Dad's uniform belt, I roused in my bed and saw his beefy build standing by my dresser. Carefully, he removed his service weapon and placed it next to my baseball card collection and my trophies, then did the same with his utility belt.

My eyes took a second to adjust, but I could start to make out his handsome features. Roman nose, round cheeks, thinning hair kept military buzzed.

"Heya kiddo," he whispered when he finally saw me watching, sitting up in bed. Already he was unbuttoning and untucking his uniform shirt, the kevlar vest making his barrel chest even more pronounced beneath.

"Hey Dad," I said. I tried to be quiet, too, but my voice was groggy and my greeting came out louder than I intended.

Not that I probably needed to worry. It's crazy and would be impossible to explain to any outsider. But this was an open secret in our family. Mom knew, my little brothers knew and even if no one talked about it, there was a strange acceptance. Maybe because my parents fought less now. Maybe because I was the star baseball player who was pretty much tapped to get a top pick in the upcoming draft, straight out of high school. I was definitely the Golden Boy. I wouldn't say I was spoiled, because I worked my ass off for my success, but I got a lot of special treatment.

It was a ritual I was getting used to, the way Dad neatly hung up his uniform, putting it in my closet, next to my Sunday best blue blazer and pressed khakis. He wore Jockey style briefs that clung to his meaty ass and heavy genitals. My morning wood was reliable but even if it wasn't I'd have gotten rock hard just watching him.

Finally Dad turned toward the bed with a relaxed smile, taking two steps to approach, then hooked his thumbs in the elastic and slid off his underwear. My father wasn't erect yet, but his dong was getting firmer as he lifted up the bed sheet and crawled in next to me.

"Sorry to wake you, Nolan," he said as he scooted up against me, his strong hands latching on to my sides. "But you do feel nice, buddy...."

"You too, Dad," I said. My dick pressed into the softness of his belly. My father wasn't overweight but he had some love handles on his otherwise hard, regulation-fit body. I loved every bit of him and the way he felt next to me. My hands were matching his move, running along the hard lats and over his meaty ass cheeks.

"This is what I look forward to after a hard shift," he said.

"Tough night?" I asked.

"Yah," he said. Dad didn't talk about the stress of his job in detail, but I liked that he could confide in me. When I was a kid he'd always hide that part of his life from me.

Our lips met. Softly at first but I nudged his mouth with my tongue, and Dad opened up to accept it. He moaned into my mouth as he pawed me more greedily, his hands' urgency a contrast to our restrained kiss.

My own hands were feeling him up excitedly, eventually one moving down to cup his crotch. My dad was rock hard now.

"HMMM," he hissed as we broke the kiss. "You got me hard, buddy."

"I can tell," I said. The daylight was a little brighter in the room now, and I could make out my father's masculine, soulful face up closer. His body felt warm and the scent of him filled my nostrils. My fingers caressed his rigid prick, which jerked in my hand some. "What are you in the mood for, sir?"

With me and Dad it was 50/50. Not only the sex acts we did but who guided how we would mate. After a big game or when we got some extended dad-son time, I generally got to pick. But when Dad was coming off of a night shift, I liked to indulge him.

"Hard to choose," he said. His hand was now moving to feel up my son bone.

"I know what you mean," I said.

He gave a slight, serious smile. It was weird that I was waking up but Dad was tired but fully awake, having been up for a good sixteen or seventeen hours. "I guess I'm trying to say, I want both... you know, flip."

We actually hadn't done that. If I hadn't watched my share of porn, I might not even know what that term meant. But the second he said it, the idea sounded perfect.

Dad must have read the approval on my face because already he was reaching over me, toward the lube I had out on the night stand. This was another thing I no longer bothered to hide. Over the course of the last nine months, we'd gone from only fooling around outside of the house to only doing it when we knew we were alone to.... this. I heard the squirt of the liquid in Dad's palm as I felt up his soft furry torso. Then Dad pumped out more for good measure.

I grinned at him as he now reached between my legs. I had a good jock's body, strong and athletic but over the last few months I'd really gotten more into lifting and my body had responded well. Dad told me he was in love with all of me, not just my muscles, but I still enjoyed the confidence my new build had given me. And Dad's eyes seemed more appreciative.

The fingers felt silky and warm as he fingered me open.

I could hear footsteps in the hall. People were starting to wake up. Dad paused a second and arched his eyebrow. The first time this had happened we were terrified of being discovered. Now my father pulled his big mitt back, wiping some of the excess lube onto my hard prick before slicking up his own.

"Lift your legs, Nolan," he instructed. No longer whispering but talking at full voice.

I was so excited to do so, pulling my legs back in the air, only to have my state trooper father guide them to a resting place on his shoulder. I pulled the extra pillow and Dad did the rest to help me lift my hips to place it beneath me. The angle was perfect, and I clenched my core once I felt Dad's wet meaty prick nudge my folds.

We used to have to go real slow through this part. Dad took my cherry right after my 18th birthday, and for months entry felt cherry-tight. But the last month, we'd both hit a groove. I was still tight, as was my father, but he was able to work himself inside me without too much difficulty.

He was doing it now, his eyes on me, excited to be inside his son once more.

"I love your cock, Dad," I hissed.

He nodded. I didn't know if that was a nod to say he knew how much I loved his dick or a nod to indicate he loved my ass equally. Probably both. "You know, kiddo... you're gonna have to tell me if this is ever too much."

I shook my head no. "You always know how to fuck me, Dad. Always have."

He grunted. "I don't mean physically, Nolan. I mean the other stuff. Everything else."

The words made my cock thrwap on my belly. If Dad hadn't suggested the flip fuck, I would have been stroking my tool already. "Not to take away from the sex, sir... but the other stuff is the best part."

That got a big smile from him. He thrust in, completely, all the way. "That it is, buddy." Then another thrust. The emotional talk had keyed me up to take this, to want this.

"Fuck me, sir. Fuck your boy."

Dad's nostrils flared as he threw more strength into his fuck, still slow but very firm. "Oh kiddo..."

The only thing that spoiled an otherwise perfect moment was the nagging realization I'd be moving within two months. Out of my childhood home, away from Mom and my little brothers. Away from Dad. "You get so worked up after a long night," I observed, now running my hands along his furry chest. It was true, but my words were meant to egg him on, too.

"Cause I think about you all fucking shift, Nolan... you and your hot fucking ass."

His hips were faster now, his whole body moving in a steady athletic pump. It was exquisite. I didn't even mind having my legs pushed back as he leaned in some. "You and your amazing baseball jock body," he added.

"I'm gonna get bigger," I hissed.

Dad's body jerked to a stop, and I thought for a second he was cumming. But he bit lip and slowly slid out of me, pulling my ankles off his meaty delts and letting my legs down. His prick was super slick, from his frothy precum as much as from the lube, and I watched how it was immobile like a tire iron as he scooted up and straddled my waist.

Already he was half twisting, half leaning back to grip my slick cock and guide it into place.

"There," he hissed as he made contact. A second later he was already sitting down on me.

"Oh fuck, Dad," I grunted. "You feel so incredible."

Dad had a determined look as he made himself relax so he could work more of my dick into him. After about thirty seconds, though he'd worked his way down most of me. He paused, then started riding his hips up and down. "Your daddy's so horny, Nolan," he grunted. The bed was squeaking and our voices were louder. There's no way somebody wasn't hearing us fuck.

"Me too, sir," I growled, my hands gripping his hard, hairy thighs. Imagining fucking him in his uniform one shift. We'd done that once, and the memory still got me going.

"You're always horny, stud. Daddy's sex-addict boy."

"You know it," I said, now thrusting up into him as much as he was riding me. It all felt too good. "I don't know if I can last long... if you wanna flip some more."

"Let it go, son. Let that cum go right up my fucking ass."

It did. The orgasm was pretty intense so I had a good feeling Dad's guts were getting pretty sauced.

"Hell yeah," he hissed, riding me and milking me with his state trooper ass. He wasn't making a move to jerk off but instead leaned all the way back onto my crotch to ensure my dick and my load were buried as deep as possible inside him. He held there just a second then slowly rose off.

He leaned in to kiss me hungrily, then just as impetuously pulled back, nudging my legs up. "Pretty please, Nolan," he asked.

I wanted to give him this. The release, and the pleasure to match what he'd just given me. He knew it was going to be intense for me, so he didn't hold back. Sliding back inside my ass, he pumped me gently a couple of times, then just started moving faster to get off. I had a pretty good idea of the button to push.

"This is incest, Dad," I hissed. I didn't drop the word much, in part because it was so powerful.

"Shit," Dad hissed with an urgency that let me know it was working. He was almost cumming.

"Real incest," I repeated. "Deep incest."

Dad was whimpering now, in full orgasm, his face scrunching up and his body jerking as he pumped a bunch of his fatherly sperm into me.

He was a little sweaty and a lot tired when he dismounted. "That was incredible, Nolan," he said, reaching down to ruffle my hair and give me a more relaxed kiss. "Thanks."

I grinned. "Keeps getting better, huh?"

Dad looked back at me with a dreamy expression, his body now lying beside mine, his hands on my waist. "Somehow... yeah, it does."

I felt him up too. "I should probably get ready for school," I said, regret in my voice.

"Definitely," Dad said. "Another kiss."

We didn't rush this one, but I finally got the will power to pull back. "All right," I said.

"I'll text you later," he said. His voice definitely sleepy now. I watched him pull the covers up over his burly, hairy body and turn away from the light of the bedroom window.

I slid out of bed and reached over to pull the blinds down. I slid on some sweats and padded out of the room, shutting the door softly behind me.

#drakestories

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notdysfunk · 7 months

Text

So about Left 4 Freddy!

I wanna talk about each of the infected, because we had /everyone/ modded.

l4d2 cast is Sun, Moon, Roxy, Freddy. l4d cast is Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, Foxy Jimmy Gibs Jr. is Golden Freddy

All 'normal infected' are Various Staffbots Hunter is Sun/Moon also Jockey is BB Spitter is Mangle Smoker is Ennard Boomer is Mascot Mimic Charger is Withered Bonnie Tank is Monty Witch is Vanny INFO DUMP AND IMAGES BELOW THE BREAK!!!!!!!

The original cast, Freddy, Chica, Bonnie, and Foxy; I ALSO headcanon these 4 to be the Midnight Riders(RENAMED TO The Midnight Motorists)(lol) So the Midnight Motorists are the original cast, and the L4F2 cast look up to them, which makes meeting them in The Passing so much sweeter. However, the only one of the four who doesn't make it to The Passing is Foxy, this is because he was the most withered of the main four, and just didnt make it. (his modded char is deceased) As for the infected, they're all staffbots because honestly it's just funny. The AU /maybe/ has normal humans? Staffbots can work too. Tank is Monty, however these Montys are from OTHER pizzaplexes. ON that note, Hunters are too. Hunters during the day are Sun, and during the night they are Moon. These are NOT our sun and moon- but S/Ms from other plexs. However, this makes it hard for Sun and Moon to kill these infected- since they resemble so much of them. Jockey as BB is so funny guys u dont understand HAHA Mangle, Ennard, Mascot Mimic, Withered Bonnie are all just random so dont think abt it too much HAHA Vanny being Witch is genuinely so cool!! If I can get a clip some time, I'll post it! She wonders around while crying; growling and even attacking when the crew gets too close. Most often during playing, Roxy was the one to set Vanny off and be attacked. So it's not a headcanon that Vanny as the witch has a tendency to target Roxy. Sun and Moon are most likely to be hit by Chargers(Withered Bonnies), because their lanky, towering figure does, in fact, make it hard to dodge them quickly. Freddy is most likely to get hooked by Smokers(Ennards) for some reason.

--- Other random dialogue thingz!! --- In the beginning of The Dark Carnival, after getting Jimmy's car in The Passing; Sun says that he'd like a minute alone with the car, as he really enjoyed being able to drive the stock car. Roxanne comments "I understand..." Quickly before going quiet. I like to think this is because Roxy used to be a racer. She understands the connection to a car- as silly as it is. Oftentimes, Coach called Rochelle "Ro" in dialogue. So they call Roxy "Ro" in L4F au as well. -Roxy nicknames: Ro (From all), Miss (Sun), Ma'am (Sun/Moon) -Sun nicknames: Boy (Freddy), Youngin (Also Freddy), Hon/Honey(Ro), Goober (Moon), Killer (Moon) -Moon nicknames: Moondrop (Freddy), Stars (Ro), -Freddy nicknames: Sir (Sun), Fred (All), Mr. Pizza (Moon) Sun and Moon's relationship is pretty goofy. Typically peaceful banter betweeen the two ensues! Example of their modded character's dialogues LOL:

--- Moon is jokingly flirtatious, he's coping... dont @ him ok He's also a total man baby during the sewer area. Sun is a complete goober, rambling and bantering with the crew. For some reason he's also a hopeless romantic towards roxy but like it's also just him being kinda dumb Freddy has taken on a very fatherly role calling to the others so much as "youngin". He also often gives a screaming ovation after making it through an area successfully. Roxy is pretty cocky towards the infected, saying stuff like "I'll give that bitch a reason to cry." In regards to the witch. However, she's sweet and refers to many in her team so much as "sweetheart" or "hon".

Okay /end rant i promie

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minastras · 1 year

Text

mr. vice president // yeonjun

Choi Yeonjun was an ace, and everyone knew it. He was a star athlete, top student, creative genius, school vice-president, and prom royalty. The only person who even came close to his level was you.

at a glance: gender neutral reader, rivals to lovers, high school au, fluff, angst, ft. soobin, beomgyu, aespa's karina and winter

words: 7.3k

warnings: shit tonnes of swearing, brief mention of sports-enforced dieting (not weight related)

——————————

You liked being the best, and you were good at it.

Your list of titles and achievements was long for your age: President of the student council, most promising player on the basketball team, and top performer in every exam season. In any metric you could name, you were always in either first or second place.

The person you had jockeyed for first with for the last four years was none other than Choi Yeonjun, the golden boy, the unstoppable force to your immovable object.

He was the most promising player on the football team. As your Vice-President, you two were the highest-ranking student leaders in the school. Perfectly and equally matched in academics, you both constantly oscillated between the two top spots on the yearly grade rankings. You could’ve been a high school power couple had it not been for one thing: you hated each other’s guts.

Your rivalry was well known throughout the school, although most people saw it as just a mildly petty competition. No one would ever expect such capable, talented, and hardworking students to indulge in that sort of immature behaviour. The only people who knew the true extent of your animosity were your kids.

You and Yeonjun called the other student council members your kids, and they in turn called you both their parents. On the administrative side Yeonjun had under him Soobin, the general secretary, and Beomgyu, the treasurer. On the operations side you led Jimin, head of logistics, and Minjeong, communications and liaison officer. Of course, you two had also fought over who would take admin and who would take operations (the kids voted in the end). Sometimes when you and Yeonjun were acting up too much, one of them, usually Soobin, would say, “Not in front of the kids!”

But as co-leaders of the student body, your school’s star athletes, and joint cohort-toppers, you had a lot in common with each other. Maybe that’s why you disliked him so much: he reminded you of yourself.

——————————

You and Yeonjun were indeed busy bees. Your school days started earlier than everyone else’s, because you were in charge of the morning announcements and had to get ready before assembly. During breaks when the others got to relax or nap or eat you had disciplinary duties, not that either of you ever actually disciplined anyone (snitches get stitches, even for the golden kids). You also finished school later than most; being in the Excellere class for gifted students meant extra, harder, and longer lessons. After Excellere, you both had sports practice two to three times a week. If it was competition season like it was then, you had practice every day. In between commitments you were always stuck in meetings with him and the rest of the student council, or with him and the school principal.

Since school was just about all you did, that meant you were with Yeonjun for nearly every waking moment of your life, barring weekends. And sometimes not even that. You spent far too many of your precious weekend hours with him, either on Zoom calls or representing your school at external events.

“Good morning, Pres,” Yeonjun greeted that morning, punching your arm as he waltzed into the front office like he did every day. He always called you Pres. Never your name, just Pres. You hated it, and you’d told him as much more than once. That only made him do it more. He pointed at the hot pink post-it note on the announcement book. “What’s this?”

“The Spring Festival ticket sales announcement. Jimin finished setting up the website last night,” you told him. “Minjeong says we can start making the announcement every week, and she’ll put it on the school socials after assembly today.”

“Why can’t you do it?” he asked.

You folded your arms. “Because it’s not my job. She’s our communications officer.”

“What is your job, then? You seem pretty free to me,” he said.

“You’re one to talk. Are you still bitter about losing to me, Mr. Vice President?” you taunted, pointing to his student council badge. It was silver and read ‘student leader’, like all the other members’ badges, while yours was gold and read ‘president’.

“We all know I’m equal in rank to you. The President/Vice President distinction is just a formality,” he retorted, but you knew he had been disproportionately upset by the badge thing when you were both sworn in.

“A formality you gave up being football captain for, and still lost,” you teased. It was childish, but you stuck out your tongue at him anyway. He seemed to bring that out in you.

Student council Presidents were not allowed to hold a second leadership position, so he had turned down the captain role offered to him because he had expected to be appointed President. It was either him or you, that much had never been in question, but he’d gotten cocky. You remembered him being absolutely gutted about losing the presidency to you, not least because he hated the boy who ended up captain. You, however, didn’t really care about your position on your team as long as you got to play. You did, though, care about beating Choi Yeonjun.

“I’m still the best player on my team,” he countered, defensive and equally childish.

“So am I, genius.”

“I am a genius, aren’t I, Pres? That's why I came first in our latest Excellere ranking.”

You were just about to answer when the principal entered the office. It was almost time for assembly to start. As petty as you both were, you knew better than to fight in front of faculty. Yeonjun, having gotten the last laugh, glanced over at you and winked obnoxiously. You’d get a chance to get back at him later.

——————————

Whenever Yeonjun winked or smirked or rolled his eyes at you, you were reminded of the infuriating fact that he was, undoubtedly, extremely good-looking. He was the golden boy, after all, and it was only fitting for that status to extend to his appearance too. Tall and fit, with gorgeous eyes and the stutter-inducing confidence of someone who knew they were attractive. Other students sometimes greeted you both as you walked around the school (neither of you were that popular in the traditional sense of the word, but you were well known to say the least) and he could often make them swoon with just a smile.

But he didn’t date. In fact, as far as you knew, he’d never dated at all, nor even spoke about it. He was too busy for love, something that no doubt caused heartbreak throughout the whole school.

You were the same: you had no shortage of suitors but no interest in frivolous relationships that would only distract you from your duties. Your immature rivalry with each other was just about the only non-important thing either of you allowed yourselves to partake in. You had places to be, battles to win, things to achieve.

That was a mantra you found yourself repeating in your head more and more these days. You were starting to wonder what was even the point of pushing yourself this hard. Maybe you were burnt out.

Yeonjun nudged you with a smirk when he noticed you nodding off. “Tired?”

“I’m fine,” you said, resolute, sitting up straighter and squaring your shoulders. As much as he got on your nerves, he was also the closest thing to a friend you had in Excellere. You sat together in nearly every class.

He snorted, amused. “Are you sure, Pres? Because class is over,” he said, pointing to the clock at the front of the classroom. Sure enough, the teacher and all of the other students were gone. It was just you and him.

You pushed him to hide your embarrassment. “Whatever. Move, I need to get to practice,” you said, grabbing your bag.

He pushed you back, hard enough to knock you back down into your seat so he could get up first. “Me too, sleepyhead. You’re not special,” he mocked, swinging his own bag victoriously over his shoulder with a triumphant smirk.

“I never said I was. Unlike you, I don’t have an inferiority complex,” you retorted, standing back up and rushing out of the classroom. You were not the type of person to fall asleep in class, and you sure as hell weren’t going to stick around to give him the chance to remind you of that.

——————————

By the time practice ended, you could barely keep your eyes open. It was past 10pm now, and you sat at the bus stop in your basketball uniform, knees pressed to your chest. Your teammates had all gone home, but since you always missed physical training due to Excellere, you had to stay behind and complete your three kilometre run after practice.

“Hey.”

You cracked one eye open to see Yeonjun standing in front of you, hands on his hips, peering down at you curiously. You immediately sat up straight, blinking a couple of times as if that would erase your tiredness. “Why are you here?” you asked.

“It’s a public bus stop, and I’m a free man,” he said, pushing you aside so he could sit down next to you.

“Yeah, exactly. It’s a public bus stop, and there’s plenty of room elsewhere,” you scowled, pointing to the abundance of empty space on the bench aside from the spot right beside you. He winked in answer. “I mean why are you getting the bus? I thought your mom usually picks you up.”

He shrugged, balling up his navy blue football jersey and holding it out to you. “She’s busy tonight.” You stared at the jersey in confusion. He scoffed and shoved it into your arms. “Is your brain broken? Put it on.”

“No, gross. It smells like your sweat,” you said.

“Ungrateful bastard. I can see you shivering.”

You shoved it right back to him. “You wear it then, if it’s so cold.”

“Fine.” He yanked it back and put it on, even though you could tell he hadn’t yet cooled down from his practice. His chest was still rising and falling faster than usual, the veins on his arms were still sticking out, and there were still beads of sweat on his forehead plastering his hair to his skin. Idiot. “Do you always take the bus home alone? What about your teammates?” he asked, looking around. It was dark, and he’d never taken the bus at this time of the night.

“They finish before me. I have to make up my PT because of Excellere. Don’t you?” you asked. He nodded. It seemed like you both were always the first students to arrive at school and the last students to leave. You took your phone out to check the bus timings. “Which bus are you waiting for?” you asked. Yours was coming in a minute.

“I don’t know,” he said, stubbornly pretending like he wasn't overheating in his jersey.

“You don’t know? Have you never taken a bus before?” you mocked. “Well, I suppose that’s what happens when you’re chauffeured around everywhere.”

“Fuck off, Pres. Of course I have,” he countered, defensive. “I take 47 home sometimes.”

“47 doesn’t run this late. You’ll have to take mine and get off two stops after me,” you said, not really sure why you were helping him. He had Google Maps and thumbs, after all.

Right as you said that, that very bus arrived. You flagged it down and rushed on board, not bothering to check if he was following you. He was, and he again sat down next to you in the back of the empty bus with a satisfied grin.

You sighed and looked out the window as the bus started to move. “Can’t you sit somewhere else?”

“No, I cannot,” he said, pulling up the sleeves of his jersey instead of just taking it off like he clearly wanted to do.

“You’ll catch a cold if you keep wearing that and sweating in it,” you told him. The bus was freezing.

“That’s not how colds work,” he shot back, immediately pulling his sleeves back down. “For someone who bangs on constantly about how good they are at biology you’d think you’d know that colds are caused by pathogens.”

You took your headphones out of your bag and plugged them in. “Fine, then. Stew in your grubby discomfort.”

He said something else, but you pretended not to hear him, continuing to look out the window. The rest of the bus ride went by in silence, until:

“Hey,” he said again for the second time that night, knocking his knee against yours. You ignored him. He yanked your headphones out of your ears in retaliation.

“Ow!”

“What’s the matter with you today? Why were you falling asleep in class?” he asked, holding your headphones high above his head, out of your reach. During a momentary flash of self-awareness it occurred to you that you were both far too old to be acting like kindergarteners. You couldn’t imagine what the principal would think if she knew this was how her two star students behaved in private.

You narrowed your eyes at him, preparing to be made fun of, and stood up briefly to snatch them back. “Why do you care?”

“I want to know if you’re sick so I can avoid you,” he replied.

“No, I’m on a caffeine ban,” you answered, somewhat reluctantly. He raised a questioning eyebrow. “Our coach puts us on diets before competition season to make sure we don’t get sick. No caffeine, no sweet drinks, no fried food.”

He laughed, completely unsympathetic. “And you still lost last year?”

“We came in second at nationals,” you retorted, “while I seem to recall your team didn’t even make it to regionals.”

“At least we get to eat whatever we want,” he said, knowing it was a weak comeback even before he said it. Last year was a bad season for the football team; they lost to a school they should’ve easily been able to beat and didn’t even get the chance to compete regionally. You had teased him mercilessly for it ever since, just barely stopping short of bringing your national silver trophy to school and putting it on his desk. Or carrying it into a meeting with him and using it as a drinking cup.

You reached over and pushed the stop button on the handrail behind him. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear you over the deafening sound of all of my medals clattering together. Move. It’s my stop.”

Annoyingly, he didn’t move, forcing you to climb over him to get out and off the bus. He flipped you off as the bus drove away, and you flipped him off right back.

——————————

Two days before your basketball championship, you’d finally admitted to yourself that you were not doing well. All the practices, student council meetings, and weekly Excellere rankings were starting to get to you. Your school days were fifteen hours long, your nights and weekends lost to studying or catching up on the meetings you and Yeonjun missed while in class or at practice. Which was frustrating, because it wasn’t like you hadn't gotten through these things before. You didn't know what was wrong with you this time.

“What’s with all that stuff?” Minjeong asked, watching you force a towel and a bag of toiletries into your locker and slam the door closed before they fell out.

“Yeonjun and I are staying late today to go over the work you guys did this week, so I need to shower here after practice,” you said. “We’ve missed way too many meetings.”

“Yeah, because you’re both busy. His championships are tomorrow and yours are the day after. Can’t it wait?” Jimin said.

You shook your head. “No, you guys are already doing work that’s meant to be ours.” You paused for a second for comedic effect. “Besides, I hope he’s tired after tonight so he loses tomorrow.” They both laughed.

“As expected of the golden kids,” Minjeong said, giving you a hi-five. Yeah. As expected of the golden kids.

——————————

It was 11pm, and you and Yeonjun were sitting beside each other in an empty classroom going over the minutes from the last three student council meetings. His hair was wet from his shower and he hadn’t bothered to get dressed fully, with too many buttons undone, an untucked shirt, and his tie nowhere in sight. You stopped taking notes.

“Can you please put your uniform on properly?” you asked.

He snatched your pen and notebook away from you to add in something you’d been fighting over for the last ten minutes. “Why do you have yours on like that, with everything all done up and tucked in? There’s literally no one else here.”

“You look unbecoming,” you said.

“I’m comfortable. You should try it. You can’t convince me you like wearing your tie and buttoning your shirt all the way up like that,” he said, pointing the pen at your collar. When he was done writing, he looked up at you in satisfaction and smirked, arrogant. “Or am I distracting you?”

You would never admit it, but he was right. On both counts. He was distracting you. “Is Soobin okay? He’s been doing a lot lately,” you asked, ignoring him, looking over your notes again. If there was anything that could get you and Yeonjun to stop bickering for even a second, it was talking about the other council members.

“I think he’s a little tired. Once we’re both done with our competitions we can start pulling our weight more,” he said, humming thoughtfully, as if you both weren’t already doing as much as you could. “But you’re right, the kids have been working hard. We’re not being the best leaders right now.”

“Yeah, we’re not,” you sighed, thinking about how you’d seen Jimin online past midnight a few days ago. You should be doing more.

Yeonjun kicked you in the shin under the table, ignoring your hiss of pain. “You know who’s not okay? You. You’re fucking out of it these days.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m fine,” you scowled. “You’re the only person who thinks that.”

He rolled his eyes at your pride. “Yeah, but that’s because I know you better than anyone.” You scoffed at that, but he continued, “Seriously, Pres, who else gets you like I do?”

“Who are you, Sigmund Freud? Stop psychoanalysing me,” you said, glancing over your notes one last time, checking to make sure you had covered every point in the meeting minutes.

“So you think I’m smart?”

“No, I think you want to fuck your mom.”

He relented after that, a type of mercy he didn’t afford you very often. You wondered, then, if you really were as not okay as he was claiming. How had he been the only one to pick up on it? No, you were fine. You were fine. There was nothing to pick up on.

The two of you worked in near-total silence for the next couple of hours. That was a pretty standard affair, once you’d both exhausted your barbs and witty comebacks and didn’t have anything else to say to each other anymore. What wasn’t normal, though, was that you weren’t even being bitchy to each other in the comments of your shared Google Doc as you wrote your emcee script. The thought of Choi Yeonjun, of all people, noticing- you were fine.

“We still need to finalise the event schedule for review by tonight,” he reminded you, breaking the silence. You’d completely forgotten about that, and you never forgot anything.

“I’ll do it. You have your match tomorrow,” you volunteered.

“How charitable of you, Pres,” he said, giving you snark instead of gratitude. You didn’t have it in you to retort, although if the kids were around you probably would have. He raised an eyebrow. “What, no comeback?”

Checking your watch, you mumbled, “It’s past 1am. Let’s just finish this script and go home.”

He looked closely at you. You were being weird, he was sure of it now. He could see the resignation in your eyes, the only sign you’d shown in the four years he’d known you that maybe you weren’t quite as untouchable as you appeared.

“Hey, seriously, what’s wrong with you? I can’t have you breaking now and leaving all the work to me,” he asked, sounding sincerely worried about you for the first time in his life. He had never thought of you as someone who needed to be worried about.

“I’m fine,” you insisted through gritted teeth, “I just-”

You glanced up at him, which was a mistake. The moment you saw concern (of all emotions) on his face, you cracked. You hadn’t cried in front of another person since you were eight years old and broke your leg in a car accident, but now there were tears in your eyes threatening to spill over. Immediately you blinked them away, hoping he would just let it go. Unfortunately for you, however, he had other plans. He laughed and put his arm around your shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

“Comforting you, dumbass.”

You shrugged his arm off of you, clearing your throat in a futile attempt to ease the knot you felt forming at the base of your neck. “I don’t feel comforted.”

He scowled, leaned back in his seat, and crossed his arms. “Well, then, talk to me.” His tone was so solemn and authoritative that it made you comply immediately.

“People keep asking me for things and expecting me to be able to do everything and saying that I’m capable of anything but I’m a fraud. I don’t know what I’m doing and I’m so tired and I just want it to stop.” At some point during your outburst you’d started to cry, though you weren’t sure when, because his arm was back around your shoulder and he was palming away the tears on your face with his free hand. He hooked one foot around the leg of your chair and pulled it closer to him.

“You’re not a fraud,” he said under his breath, his eyes staring straight into yours and his hand warm against your cheek. You didn’t know why he was being so kind to you, and, more confusingly, you didn’t know if you wanted him to be. Which was mortifying.

Through the sheer power of your embarrassment, you willed yourself to stop crying. “I’m fine. You can let go of me now,” you told him, looking away.

“Right.” He seemed to snap back to normalcy at the same time as you, moving back and dropping his hands. You both got back to work like a switch had been flipped, aggressively avoiding each other’s gazes.

——————————

It was nearly 2am by the time the script was finished.

“You shouldn’t stay up to do the event schedule. We’ll just tell the school we need more time,” Yeonjun told you as you both started packing up. His words, for once, were void of arrogance or mockery. It made you anxious in a way that was entirely foreign to you.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you grumbled, turning away. You hated having to ask for more time, to not deliver something you were meant to deliver.

He grinned. “You mean like this?”

Before you’d had the chance to insult him or tell him to knock it off, he took you by the shoulders and stared right at you, his face just inches from yours.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you asked, but your nervousness slipped through in your voice. He smirked, having heard it too.

“Don’t let this go to your head, Pres,” he began, “but I really want to kiss you.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore your quickening heartbeat. “Yeah, whatever. You think I’m hideous. We’re gonna miss the last bus-”

His lips were on yours without your brain having even had the time to process what he’d said. One of his hands shifted down to your waist while the other moved to your jaw, tilting your chin up slightly. Your own hands instinctively came to rest on his chest, and you found yourself kissing him back without thinking. You could feel his heart hammering through his shirt. He was the first to pull away.

Frozen, you could do nothing but stare at him, with your eyes wide and lips still slightly parted. “What-”

“I had to do it. At least once,” Yeonjun whispered, not moving at all either. He was searching your expression for signs of something, you didn’t know what, but when he didn’t find it he let you go. Neither of you said a single word to each other during the entire hour-long bus ride home.

——————————

What a dickhead. How could Yeonjun go from kissing you to ‘idk about pres’ that seamlessly? He had been so kind, so sweet to you that day. You purged that thought from your head as quickly as it had come.

“There’s our president!” Beomgyu cheered as he let you into the meeting room, and the others broke into applause.

“Congrats on winning your finals yesterday!” Jimin added, still clapping.

You closed the door behind you. “Thank you! Sorry for being late,” you said. “I promise I will not miss a single meeting now that my comps are over.”

When Yeojun eventually showed up, he barely looked at you. You didn’t really know why that upset you as much as it did, or what you had been expecting. Once you all started working, however, you quickly fell back into a familiar rhythm along with the other council members.

“Where’s the chit from the popcorn machine vendor?” you asked Beomgyu, sifting through the stack of papers on the desk.

Beomgyu looked up from the printer that he and Jimin were trying (and failing) to get to work right. It was currently spitting out black and white pages that looked like they had been printed in Hell on a Tamagotchi by Satan himself. “What chit?”

“The nacho store we were going to get cancelled on us last weekend, so I asked Yeonjun to get a popcorn guy instead,” you explained. Fucking Yeonjun. You turned to him. “Did you forget to call him back? It’s been four days.”

He thought for a bit then shrugged, relishing your annoyance. “I guess so. Whoops.”

“Call him now, before he backs out,” you instructed, turning your attention back to the papers.

“Haven’t you ever heard of saying ‘please’ and ‘thank you’?”

You didn’t even bother to look up. “Haven’t you ever heard of doing your fucking job?”

He threw the pen he was holding on the floor in response. The other council members exchanged furtive glances.

“Come on, guys. Not in front of the kids,” Soobin sighed, ever the mediator, picking up the pen. You wanted to tell him he didn’t need to clean up after a child, but that would just make things worse. You continued working.

“What’s going on with you two? You’re even worse than usual,” Minjeong said.

At that, you and Yeonjun locked eyes from across the room. He scoffed and looked away immediately. You watched him closely, but you couldn’t read him at all. You were quickly realising that, despite being mirrors of each other and spending almost all of your time together, you barely knew him.

“It seems our Pres is touchy today,” he teased. “They’re a little stressed out.”

You pinned the papers you were holding together with a paperclip and filed them away. “Watch it, Yeonjun,” you warned.

He ignored your glaring at him, your eyes telling him to stop, continuing, “Despite all appearances, they’re not as golden as they so desperately want everyone to think. They even had a little breakdown before their competition.”

Before anyone else could react, you passed the file in your hands over to Beomgyu (what you were doing was technically his job, anyway) and left. The room fell deathly silent.

——————————

Strangely, Yeonjun followed you into the corridor, feeling a weird compulsion to do so. His feet moved under him without him realising. Running after you and shouting your name, he easily caught up with you in just a few long strides. He grabbed your wrist and pulled you back, forcing you to turn around.

“Let me go.” You shook his hand off of you, unable to stop the tears from welling up in your eyes. This was humiliating.

He laughed lightly, unfazed. “What’s your fucking deal? We’ve said way worse things to each other before,” he said. He had a point. And you did have some sort of tacit agreement with him that nothing was off-limits. Maybe you’d been too naive in thinking that that night was different. That it had meant something.

“Fuck off! I need to go fix your fucking mistake,” you shouted, turning back around. Your voice was trembling.

“Pres, relax,” he teased, taking you by the shoulders and spinning you around before you’d even had the chance to take a single step away from him. He leant down to emphasise the height difference between you two, something he did often that infuriated you to no end, pleased by how easily he could rile you up. “Don’t you know throwing tantrums is counter-productive?”

“I hate you, Choi Yeonjun,” you said coldly, biting the inside of your cheek to try and stop your tears. When all he did was laugh, you pushed him away. Against your wishes, a sob broke its way through your pressed lips and you lost it. You balled your hands up into fists and pounded on his chest repeatedly to get him to let go of you; it was like hitting a brick wall and you both knew it. “I hate you! IhateyouIhateyouIhateyou.”

He stopped. “Are you crying?” You crying once the other day was out-of-character enough, let alone twice in such a short span of time. He was pretty sure he’d never even seen you show the smallest sliver of vulnerability before this week.

“Yes, I’m fucking crying, asshole. I’m glad your snail of a brain finally caught up.” You hit his chest again, so weak you barely disturbed a single fibre on his school blazer.

Any sympathies he might have been forming for you earlier dissipated in an instant. He easily grabbed both of your wrists with one hand to stop you, glowering at you, his jaw clenched. “You should’ve known I would tell the kids. Everything between us is fair game, isn’t it, Pres? Why did you even tell me any of that if you wanted it to be a secret?” he snapped.

All the vitriol in your voice evaporated. When you next spoke, you sounded like a child, scared and upset and betrayed. He had never heard you sound anything like that; it was jarring to the both of you. “Because I thought you would understand.”

There it was. The revelation. Perhaps that was what your entire years-long rivalry with this dick of a man boiled down to: a secret hope that he was struggling as much as you, and a frustration that it didn’t seem like he was. You hadn’t even understood that was what it was until you said it.

He sobered in an instant, his eyes softening in the realisation that he’d gone too far. “Pres,” he said quietly, like he was calling a wounded animal. The guilt in his voice was probably as close to an outright admission of wrongdoing as he would ever get with you. “I didn’t know you were-”

“Whatever, dickwad,” you mumbled, deflated, pulling your hands out of his grasp. “I have to call the vendor before he pulls out of this deal. We don’t have a lot of time.”

“Pres, I didn’t know,” he repeated, more urgently this time, still not an apology, following you as you walked away from him.

You stopped in your tracks and turned back around, your voice now calm and measured, holding up a hand to stop him from continuing. “I will be civil to you for the next week so we can see this event through, but I’m done with-” you gestured vaguely between the both of you. “I’m done with whatever this is. Bye, Yeonjun.”

This time, he didn’t chase after you.

——————————

Why was Yeonjun bringing up the day you both stayed until 2am? The day he kissed you? He made it sound like an average day, as if it had meant nothing to him, but something had clearly changed between you two since then.

He was walking on eggshells around you, trying to crack jokes, and engage you in conversations where he didn’t pick on you. You hated it. It made you feel weak. But you were the only one to pick up on it, which was the upside to every single student council member being up to their eyeballs in stress. None of them really noticed his strange behaviour. Or yours.

The festival kicked off smoothly — so smoothly, in fact, that it took Yeonjun and the rest of the council a whole half hour to realise you were missing. After you and Yeonjun finished your joint emcee duties, they hadn’t needed to call you or report to you for anything.

“Hey, have you seen the pres?” Jimin asked, Minjeong following closely behind her. “We’ve been looking for them everywhere.”

“Nope,” Beomgyu said.

Soobin shook his head. “Me neither.”

Everyone turned to Yeonjun in unison. “I’ll go look for them,” he said, already leaning over to grab his jacket hanging off the back of the chair next to him.

“You can’t leave us too! You’re our second-in-command,” Minjeong pointed out.

“Yeah, whatever. You’re in charge now,” he declared absent-mindedly, not really listening to her, one foot already out the door.

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Yeonjun sprinted straight to the bus stop, ignoring the stares of the other students as he ran right through the festival booths. He got there just in time to see your bus pulling away, letting out a long string of curses that made the elderly man sitting on the bench glare at him. He was usually careful about his behaviour in public, especially when he was in uniform like he was then, but he didn’t care anymore.

Your taunts last week were partly true; he didn’t really know how to take buses, and he really was sort of driven everywhere by his parents. So it took him far longer than it should have to figure out how else to get to your house (he stood there staring at the bus chart for long enough that three different people offered to help him). Even the aforementioned elderly man took pity on him, but not before tsking disapprovingly at his student leader badge and calling him foul-mouthed.

He ran ten minutes from the bus stop he ended up alighting at to your house and reached your front porch without even knowing why he was there at all, but he pounded on your door anyway. You came to the window, peeked out from behind the curtain, and left.

“I can see you, Pres. Open the door,” he called out, out of breath. When you complied, he didn’t even give you the chance to speak. “Why are you here?”

You looked him up and down, deciding to be annoying. You usually did when it came to him. “This is my house. Why are you here?”

“You know what I meant, dipshit.” How charming.

You let him in and poured him a glass of ice water. It was weird seeing Yeonjun sitting in your living room, like a forced merger of two spheres of your life that you kept separate as much as you could. His school blazer was hanging off the end of the sofa.

“It’s hot,” he said defensively when he saw you looking at it. It wasn’t; he was just sweating from running from the bus stop to your house. He took the glass from you and set it down on the coffee table without using the coaster you’d so nicely placed right in front of him, making you see red. “Four ice cubes? Are you telling me to die?”

“As if you have a superstitious bone in your body, Choi Yeonjun. Is this how you act as a guest in other people’s houses too?” you asked, sitting down beside him.

He loosened his tie and popped the first two buttons of his dress shirt open. “No, just yours.”

“Sure, please make yourself at home,” you said sarcastically. “What do you want?”

“I came to apologise. You disappeared and we all freaked out. God, I can’t believe I’m worried about you-”

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Are you sure you know what an apology is?”

“Shut up. I mean-” he groaned in frustration and ran his hands through his hair, something he often did when he got annoyed. “You’re being so difficult!”

“Says the guy complaining about the number of ice cubes I put in his water!”

“For fuck’s sake,” he sighed, putting his head in his hands. “Hang on. Let me start over.”

The living room was completely silent apart from the sound of his heavy breathing. You were about to say something about it — a star athlete being so winded from a short run was pretty entertaining to you — but you decided not to. Your phone dinged. It was Beomgyu telling you the popcorn vendor had shown up late, drunk, and thrown up in the popcorn machine, followed by three increasingly ridiculous reaction images from Megamind. Maybe you shouldn’t have hired a popcorn vendor after all.

“What’s so funny?”

You flashed him your phone screen. “Beomgyu sent me something.”

Yeonjun didn’t even look at it, despite being the one who’d asked in the first place. “I like you,” he declared.

“Are you having a heat stroke?” you asked, disinterested, typing out a quick reply.

He knocked your phone out of your hand in a huff. “Stop fucking texting Beomgyu.”

Your phone clattered to the floor. “Hey!”

“You are such an irritating person.” He dramatically (as always) got up from the sofa to kneel on the floor in front of you, looking up at you with an indecipherable emotion in his eyes. “I like you, Pres. I have for a while now, but I only realised it the other night. I got scared and I lashed out, but that doesn’t make what I said okay. I betrayed your trust and I’m sorry.”

Your head started spinning, and your heart leapt up into your throat. I like you. Your jaw would’ve dropped open had it not been for every muscle in your body going rigid at once. He casually sat back down next to you, picked up his glass, and took a sip. As if he hadn’t just delivered you the single biggest shock of your life. You could barely get his name out of your mouth.

“Yeonjun, I-”

“Look, you don’t have to say anything. I just needed to tell you because it was driving me crazy. You drive me crazy, actually-”

You grabbed his tie, pulled him towards you, and kissed him. If he was surprised by your boldness he didn’t show it, his hands easily finding their way to your waist as he kissed you back. His lips were cold from the ice water.

“Thank you for the apology. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

He broke the kiss, laughing breathily. “I can’t think straight when you’re kissing me. I didn’t hear anything you said.”

You flicked him lightly on the forehead, unable to stop yourself from smiling. “I said thank you for apologising. I appreciate it. But I’m still mad at you.”

“I know,” he said. Right at that moment, both of your phones went off at the same time. “We should get back to school.”

He stood up, casually took your hand, and started walking. You didn’t pull away.

——————————

Although you did it often, being in school this late at night with no one else around never quite stopped feeling other-worldly. Your body was tired, but your mind was still awake and buzzing and alive.

“I’m sorry I made you miss the festival,” you said as you finished making your rounds through the school to check each room one last time, switch off the mains, and lock the doors.

“You didn’t make me do anything.” Yeonjun took your hand in his again and gave it a comforting squeeze, before adding, “Don’t be so full of yourself.”

The words were familiar, but his tone and the warmth in your cheeks were not. Choi Yeonjun of all people was making you act shy and blushy. Revolting.

“The golden boy of the school just confessed to me a few hours ago. How could I not be full of myself?” You stopped walking and turned to face him. “I like you,” you mocked, an over-dramatic caricature of his voice.

Yeonjun groaned and hid his face in his hands. “God, I can’t believe I actually said that. Like a character in a Netflix original.” You laughed, wondering if you’d ever laughed with him, not at him, before.

He’d called his mom earlier and told her not to pick him up — he wanted to take the bus with you, even though it would take him twice as long to get home. Leaving the school, you both turned to look back down the empty corridor.

“I guess this is the end of our late nights,” he mused. Your competitions were both over and there were no more events to organise for the year. All that remained were your final exams.

“Until our Valentine’s Day celebrations,” you reminded him. “Jimin wants to start planning that next week.”

He retorted immediately, “I don’t.” As the lights of the corridor started to turn themselves off (they were on automatic timers, which you found very annoying), he leant down, cupped your face gingerly in his hands, and kissed you twice.

“I want to do this.”

——————————

thanks for reading <3

-minastras

#tomorrow x together #yeonjun #choi yeonjun #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun soft hours #yeonjun imagines #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt x reader #txt soft hours

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hooked-on-elvis · 4 months

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ELVIS' DEBUT ON TV — 📺 [CBS] The Dorsey Brothers 'Stage Show'

Elvis with Tommy and Jimmy Dorsey at CBS Studio 50, New York, March 17, 1956 [that would be Elvis' 5th appearance on their TV show, out of 6 total.].

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By December 1955 Elvis had still not made an appearance on national television. His manager Colonel Tom Parker negotiated a deal through Steve Yates with CBS's "Stage Show" for four appearances on the show in January 1956 at $1,250 each and an option for two more at $1,500 each.

On the January 28, 1956, Elvis was broadcast for the nation for the very first time, performing "Shake, Rattle and Roll", "Flip, Flop and Fly" and "I Got a Woman".

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[ABOVE: the January 28th 1956 FULL PERFORMANCE]

On Elvis' first appearance on American television, Bill Randle, one of the most influential disc jockeys of the time, was the man who actually presented Elvis Presley to the nation. He said:

"We'd like at this time to introduce to you a young fellow, who like many performers, Johnnie Ray among them, come up out of nowhere to be overnight very big stars. This young fellow we met for the first time while making a movie short*. We think tonight that he's going to make television history for you. We'd like you to meet him now - Elvis Presley. And here he is!" — Bill Randle, Disc Jockey, the man presenting Elvis Presley to America for the first time. January 28, 1956.

After this, things would never be the same, specially the society. Such a good beginning for a year, that special day in a January month! ♥

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🎞️THE SHORT-FILM THAT NEVER SAW THE LIGHT OF DAY (for the general public... at least until now...)

The movie short Bill Randle referred to during his introduction to Elvis was "The Pied Piper Of Cleveland - A Day In The Life Of A Famous Disc Jockey" a short film made by Universal pictures about Bill Randle himself. Filmed on October 20th, 1955, at a concert in Brooklyn High School, Cleveland, it featured the stars Bill Haley & The Comets, The Four Lads, Pat Boone, plus the addition of a little-known Elvis Presley.

The original forty-eight-minute film was supposed to be cut down to a twenty-minute "short" for national distribution, but never made it that far. We're in 2024... 69 years went by since this shortcut was produced but the movie remains unreleased.

There is some dispute over whether or not this film actually exists, although it's said it was shown publicly, albeit only once in Cleveland, and excerpts were also aired on a Cleveland television station in 1956. Marshall Lytle, bass player for Bill Haley's Comets, corroborates the existence of the film in his memoir, "Still Rockin' Around the Clock", but he makes the unsubstantiated claim that Colonel Tom Parker, Presley's manager, bought the film and destroyed the existing copies. According to historians, tho, DJ Bill Randle, before his death in 2004, sold the rights to the film to PolyGram (it has been reported that Universal Studios has the negatives of the film in its vaults).

Much uncertainty about this short film, but can you imagine this film being release in Elvis' birthday centenary celebration? We watched, and listened, on Elvis' 89th birthday a few days earlier this year, to them playing during his birthday celebration at Graceland the original "That's All Right" record as it was cut at Sun Records studio in 1954, so who knows? There's always rare things surfacing here and there, so... we better keep our hopes this Bill Randle's 1955 movie, with some new 'baby Elvis' footage, will be release any day now [such as we know there's 'Elvis On Tour' and 'Elvis: That's the Way It Is' never seen before footage coming our way, as confirmed by the "Elvis" 2022 biopic's film director, Baz Luhrmann — finally! We hope it will be released soon].

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But enough daydreaming... Back to Elvis' 1st television appearances.

After the premiere on America's television on January 28th, 1956, Elvis would do five more appearances on 'The Dorsey Brothers Stage Show" for the next eight weeks. Those would take place on February 4, February 11, February 18, March 17 and March 24th, 1956.

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February 4th, 1956 | "Baby Let's Play House" and "Tutti Frutti"

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February 11th, 1956 | "Blue Suede Shoes" and "Heartbreak Hotel" *

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* This is a special arrangement for 'Heartbreak Hotel', so good! Jazzy, dramatic, really rarity. I loved this! ♥

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February 18th, 1956 | "Tutti Frutti" and "I Was The One"

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March 17th, 1956 | "Blue Suede Shoes" and "Heartbreak Hotel" *

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* This is the usual arrangement for the "Heartbreak Hotel" song. On February 11th, 1956, Elvis performed this same song onstage of 'The Dorsey Brothers Show' but it sounded something more… dramatic (I guess it matched the lyrics after all, but I love the usual arrangement better yet).

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And the last one... the 6th appearance on 'Dorsey Brothers Stage Show':

March 24th, 1956 | "Money Honey" and "Heartbreak Hotel" | [FULL PERFORMANCE]

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We can see how on those first TV shows Elvis still looks quite shy. Although he moves the usual lot, he doesn't flirt with his audience as much as he would on the upcoming TV appearances (and throughout his life, actually). It's funny how he grew comfortable with being in front of the cameras so fast tho. As his photographer Wiliam Speer said, "I guess you must really like being photographed."

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Elvis with Tommy and Jimmy Dorsey at CBS Studio 50 in New York, on March 17, 1956. That would be Elvis' 5th appearance on their TV show. 'The Dorsey Brothers Stage Show' (CBS) was the place Elvis debut in his TV appearances, on January 28th 1956. He would appear on the show for 6 times total, from January to March 1956. ♥

Performing on the 'Dorsey Brothers Stage Show' at the CBS Studio 50, New York City, on March 24th, 1956. His 6th and final appearance on the show.

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EDIT: THE BLUE MOON BOYS

I hate it when I forget to mention such important, trivial, facts — and this shouldn't be footnote info and I feel guilty it is now but I forgot mentioning — The Blue Moon Boys. I love them so much! I watch those footage looking at them as much as I look at Elvis.

Like, I love Bill Black's energy onstage! I love him hollering, vibing to their sound, as loud as Elvis (on occasion). I love how he seem to love chewing gum (Bill is chewing gum in some of those footage), because it makes me look at the Blue Moon Boys and Elvis as a unit, real close friend who look alike, just how it should be. We know although EP for obvious reasons can't chew gum while singing, he loooooved gum and kept this - should I say "habit?" - throughout his life. It's sounding silly what I'm saying, I know, but I think this Elvis habit in fact date from back when he was rocking onstage with Bill, Scotty and DJ Fontana and it makes my heart warm how close and similar they seem to be, as friends, real friends. Bill is actually said to be the one cheering the crowds onstage when they first begun performing, when Elvis was still learning how to be the great leading man he became. When EP was still learning how to act onstage, how to manipulate the audience, creating the mad passionate reactions he learned to create whenever he wanted, Bill was the one heating things up, joking with the audience, cheering, hollering. Bill is amazing! His energy is intoxicating, and we can see it clearly on those first TV appearances performances. ♥

I also love how hot Scotty Moore looks! I kinda laughed thinking 'Oh my goodness' ... So this thing about rock and roll bands always having hot vocalists and hot guitar players as a rule, it looks like it all started from the 50s with EP and Scotty! (really, at least the singer and guitar player in most rock bands are hot AF, am I lying? *lol*). I have a thing for Scotty... When he smiles at times on those footage, I'm like: 🤤🥹🥴🫠 And I also love how he's elegant but at the same time menacing looking holding and playing his guitar like the guitar hero he was. Really, if you haven't yet, do yourself a favor and read Scotty's book "THAT'S ALL RIGHT, ELVIS: The Untold Story of Elvis' First Guitarist and Manager, Scotty Moore", by Scotty as told to James Dickerson (1997). Scotty's life story is fascinating and as interesting as Elvis'. ♥

And last, but never least, I love how together, calm and concentrated DJ Fontana looks. Ok, unfortunately being the drummer has it's disadvantages. We can't see DJ Fontana as much as we see the other boys onstage, but I listen to the songs until the very last minute and it's amazing how the music always has the closing, the important and dramatic ending, done by DJ's talented hands. I love that guy. ♥

Elvis Presley and The Blue Moon Boys were the best rock and rollers! I love their energy together. As much as I adore 70s Elvis onstage, the TCB Band, the Sweets Inspirations and all, if I only had one performance of Elvis' I could attend, just one to choose, I would go for - undoubtedly - the 50s ones, when those guys, The Blue Moon Boys and Elvis, were playing together.

That's Rock and Roll royalty. ✨👑 ♥

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There you go. All the videos together so you can watch of them easily. ♥

#elvis for the first time on America television #imagine seeing this baby for the first time out of the blue and then watching him skyrocketing in less than a year...#and then testify as he only grew bigger and bigger and even when he's no longer walking in earth how people still love him #man how I wanted be an old lady just because i would have lived and breathed Elvis Presley 🥹#all i can do is imagine #elvis the king #elvis #elvis presley #the blue moon boys #bill black #scotty moore #DJ fontana #Youtube #elvis fans #elvis fandom #elvis history #50s elvis #tv history #tv shows

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robinofinashiro · 6 months

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prompt: “you want me to show them who you belong to, don't you? put you in your place?"

characters/fandom: johnny joestar x reader

request status/note: sorry im having a SUPER hyperfixation over my cowboy husband

pronouns used: she/her and afab!

you were standing by your horse, ready to come out with your horse to the music that was playing. you were sporting your most iconic outfit, one that many knew about.

you were a pretty well known jockey, especially around the Kentucky area. you had your start right alongside with Johnny Joestar. Kentucky's best jockey really up until his accident. you took a lot of your inspiration from the blond haired boy and although he never knew about it, it wasn't really a secret to those around you.

being a jockey, that also meant that you had to participate in showcases. those were generally saved for when a big race was coming up and the one on the table was the Kentucky Derby. the big one as everyone called it.

you were in the running to the winner for the women's race and you felt on top of the world as everyone chattering around you was just as excited as you were about it.

"from her home state of ( insert here)," you didn't wait for your name to be called as you instantly kicked your horse off and ran around the track, smiling to the crowd as you waved your baby blue hat to them.

with being a horse prodigy and a current jockey, you knew it wasn't very hard to be able to do tricks with your horse. making sure that you consulted all of your friends and trainers to make sure that the horse wasn't getting hurt in the process, you managed to slightly stand up on her, blowing kisses to the crowd again.

not too far away from where you standing now with your horse was Gyro and Johnny. Gyro couldn't help but chuckle at how confident you were with the crowd. he knew how you really were. you weren't as confident or outgoing in person as you were in front of the crowd.

you were a shy one. someone who tended to keep to herself unless your were spoken too. Gyro being a 3x time Kentucky Derby winner and in the jockey game a lot longer than you were, he heard the real whispers around your name. you were smitten with his best friend.

Johnny Joestar. the star of the Joestar family was itching to get back on the race track.

it didn't help that Johnny was also just as attracted to you but the two of you hardly ever chatted with each other. it was like a game of cat and mouse but neither of you wanted to take the bait.

as you put your horse back to her stable to eat and get well rested after the showcase, you went to the bathroom to reapply makeup and freshen up. you knew that as soon as you stepped back out, you'd have to do a plethora of interviews.

you fixed the baby blue next scarf and dusted off your newly put on skirt. you were also sporting a vest with nothing underneath it. you generally liked to keep your image clean for any younger fans but you figured with the world practically praising you, you could get away with a little bit of skimpiness.

as soon as you stepped out onto the scene, a few reporters went towards you asking for an interview. you agreed to a few, wanting to just get over with it and make your way to the saloon not too far from the race track.

every now and again you noticed Gyro staring at you. you wanted to know what he wanted but with Johnny standing right next to him, you felt a bit intimidated.

once you finished your interviews, you were grabbing your chapstick from the inside of your boot and applying it when Gyro walked over. you gave him a knowing look, wondering what bullshit he was about to tell you. that was the only perk of being friends with Gyro was that the two of you treated each other like siblings.

"yes, what do you need Zeppeli," you asked, standing against a wooden pole. he chuckled, "the baby blue and subtle stars on your boots? you're not fooling anyone darling. it has Johnny written all over it." you laughed, rolling your eyes, "I didn't know Johnny owned baby blue and stars."

Gyro shook his head in annoyance.

"its just funny that the two things that the Joestar boy is famous for is exactly what you're wearing," you wanted to fight back but you knew there was no chance when Gyro had caught you, "I just thought that the outfit was cute and my designer agreed."

Gyro agreed, "oh believe me, you are a cute little thing and if it wasn't for Johnny, I'd totally go after you but there's a reason why he's glaring down at me right now," you slightly turned yourself around to see Johnny tapping his crutches with annoyance.

the skirt that reached up to your mid thigh was blowing against the wind as you started to feel the chills that the Kentucky night was bringing.

"i'm going to be at Shooters tonight with the rest of these fuckers. you and Johnny should come along," you said as you walked off

Gyro hummed in amusement as he watched you kick the dirt and go towards the hundred year old saloon that became infamous for horse jockeys. he knew Johnny was going to be there regardless but maybe a little bit of alcohol would help the two of you loosen up.

as soon as they arrive, they spotted you with your close friends, sitting as a booth with mugs of beer. you were still wearing your outfit from earlier but now it looked like you rode up the skirt a bit more and opened a few buttons from your vest.

Johnny and Gyro stayed towards the bar, talking amongst the friends that they had there when they noticed you were already on the dance floor, dancing with a friend of yours.

"Johnny, look," he whispered as he gave his friend a nudge. Johnny looked up and as soon as his eyes landed on yours. you were using your hat as a fan as you tried to make yourself look as sober as possible.

the three of you were now several mugs of beer into the night and you were more open to talking to whoever was around you. Gyro made his way to a girl that was dancing with you as he flashed her his grills and grabbed her hand. she instantly acknowledged what he was insinuating and started dancing against him.

you were moving to the music, minding your own, when you felt someone behind you. not giving a care in the world, you started dancing against them, smiling to the music.

Gyro shot Johnny a look of acknowledgement as he knew that if neither of you were sober, this would not be the situation that would be playing out.

as you turned around to drink some more of your beer, you noticed those bright eyes that belonged to none other than Johnny himself. your eyes widened as you instantly tried to remember when he appeared behind you but you had been dancing long enough that you just figured you were dancing with different people.

just as the song changed, the small bit of confidence you had left, you managed to sit Johnny down on a chair and started dancing on top of him. your closest friend, Abby, and Gyro, stared at each other as they realized what was going on.

Johnny was lax against the chair, sipping on his beer as your legs were wrapped around his waist lazily, "don't think you'll mind if i steal this from you?" you asked lazily as you grabbed his beanie from his head, tossing your own hat in the sea of people. he chuckled as he watched you fix his hat on your head.

"not at all," he chuckled against your neck, "it's like you want me to show them who you belong to, don't you? put you in your place?" Johnny hadn't had this kind of confidence in what felt like years. before his accident, during his days as that cocky jockey from the famous Joestar family, he would've said it like it was nothing but now? it was even surprising to him.

"maybe I do. maybe that's the whole reason why I'm here dressed in a very Johnny Joestar outfit," you murmured back, your lips now against his, "ever think that's why I showed up like this today?" Johnny's hands found your thighs as he rubbed them slowly.

"maybe I'll give everyone a show, just to showcase that you really are mine," he replied as stood up and balanced himself against his crutches and pointing out that now very large hickey on your neck. you rolled your eyes as you realized that the hickey he left you was nothing compared to how you left his lips. battered and bruised for the lack of a better word.

"i think you're on the right track, ( your name ), i think it's time we do show everyone that you were always mine."

and that Johnny did. the following morning, you had woken up to being tangled in Johnny's arms as Gyro and Abby were sending you the newlines that you were "befriending" Johnny Joestar at the famous jockey salooon.

you knew that befriending was far from the truth as the marks on both of your bodies told a completely different story and it didn't take an idiot to see that as the next race you were competing in, you were wearing Johnny's most famous beanie and the lipstick he always adorned.

#anime #anime imagines #anime imagine #johnny joestar x you #johnny joestar x reade #johnny joestar x reader #johnny joestar imagine #jjba part 7 #jjba imagine #jjba x reader #jojos bizarre adventure

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