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youremyheaven · 2 months

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Moon Dominance & Manipulation pt 2

TW: murder, rape, genocide, violence, assault, death etc etc

Here's part 1

In part 1, I spoke about the manipulative nature of Moon dominant people, in this post I will be exploring it further and providing more examples.

I think its interesting that the Moon dominant nakshatras, namely, Rohini, Hasta & Shravana are Manushya gana (Rohini) and Deva gana (Hasta & Shravana). It is very telling because even though these natives say and do terrible things, they enjoy squeaky-clean reputations and people usually perceive them as angels. If they were Rakshasa gana people would see through their bs more quickly.

Ariana Grande- Hasta Moon conjunct Jupiter

Ariana has said and done numerous problematic things over the years, from cheating scandals, blackfishing, donutgate, being extremely rude and arrogant, changing races every few years, to cringe ass over-sexualised lyrics, to being a homewrecker, Ariana is super duper messy YET she enjoys public and media support and is seen as America's sweetheart. Other people have lost their careers for less but Ari gets away with absolutely everything. She publicly admitted that Pete was her rebound guy (she was engaged to him) which is such a shitty thing to do to someone?? Like imagine if the genders were reversed lol

Ariana is a solid example of always seeming like the innocent person even though she's the messy one. Even with her latest album, its pretty obvious who cheated on who but she's been subtle enough with her music to make it seem like her ex cheated on her (she made him sign an NDA upon divorce which in itself is SOOO sketchy like what is she afraid of him revealing????) to imply things like that when you've put the other person in a position where they literally cannot speak for themselves is peak Moon dominant manipulation. She then posted a half assed story on IG asking fans to stop attacking "people in her life",,, its so apparent that she incited the whole thing in a super calculated manner and once she got what she wanted, she tries to pretend to be the good guy whose fans did all the terrible stuff🙄

Selena Gomez, Pushya Stellium, Mercury in Ashlesha atmakaraka (they both lie in Cancer which is Moon ruled)

I wouldn't have included rashi rulership but Selena is an exception. She's the queen of playing the victim and is second only to Meghan Markle. Selena sets her fans on different hate trains every other week. She's very wary of showing support to social causes. She worked with Woody Allen. She treated her best friend & kidney donor like shit, was a terrible gf to Justin Bieber, treated Demi like shit during a really tough period of Demi's life, can't sing at all yet, produced a whole TV show (13RW) that is extremely triggering for people with mental health issues and was advised by MANY to change things but she just didn't??? honestly, if you watch her documentary you can see how she's the most self-absorbed narcissistic person, every single thing has to be about her all the time.

Despite all this, Selena is almost universally loved.

Amy Dunne from Gone Girl is THE best example of a Moon-dominant person and the extent to which they'll go to ruin your life. Amy Dunne was played by Rosamund Pike who has Shravana Sun conjunct Mars

Amy had such a squeaky clean image that it was impossible to convince anybody that she was the sociopath who tried to fake her own death.

Leonardo DiCaprio- Hasta Moon

Leo is a creepy middle aged man who only dates women under 25, lives for the yacht life and spends his free time partying and doing drugs, all of which is fine but these are things that other Hollywood men come under fire for ALL the time, yet Leo is pretty much everyone's favourite, he's the environmentalist humanitarian even tho he's private jetting to his private island to party with models, even tho he's received flak in the last couple of years for dating women much younger than him, its still more of a running gag than anything serious. He hasn't suffered because of it in any way. His reputation is still intact.

John Lennon- Hasta Sun, Shravana Moon

John was a wife beating, child beating, abusive to multiple women, made fun of people with disabilities, pretended to be an anti establishment hippie even though he accepted an MBE from the Queen of England (he returned it years later in protest) and yet he is remembered as a counterculture icon and one of the most talented musicians ever. He was a violent abusive man who preached peace. Although he was a philanderer himself, he was obsessively jealous and possessive towards the women he became involved with. Lennon was an extremely wealthy man who lived a rich lifestyle, but he said that we should "imagine" a world with no possessions or greed. In short, he was a hypocrite. Yet he is still remembered fondly unlike sooo many other figures in history.

Amal Clooney, Shravana Sun conjunct Venus

speaking of hypocrisy, here's Mrs Clooney, the human rights lawyer who wears $34,000 worth of clothes while championing the poor. She attends gala and balls wearing clothes worth thousands of dollars to "raise money for charity" whilst being married to a man who has a net worth of $500 million. Like I'm sure he could just write a cheque?? The Clooneys throw a lot of charity balls/dinners/parties etc as well and its so funny to me because its obvious they're doing it to keep a certain image before the media, whilst also getting all glammed up and having fun, without doing anything tangible to actually help anybody. imagine your job is to represent refugees, unfairly imprisoned heads of state and advise the UN and you also split time between 5 different mansions all over USA and Europe in private jets lol yet Amal enjoys a good reputation for being a girlboss

Gwyneth Paltrow- Rohini Moon

Lady Goop is a nepo baby and has a net worth of $200 million yet she feels the need to make money off of people by selling bullshit wellness products like $55 sex oils, $400 meditation mats, mouth tape, vibrators, theraguns, vitamins, health supplements and god knows what else?? She's one of the many westerners who sell commercial spiritual nonsense to the masses but coming from someone as rich as she is?? like maa'm?? she promotes so much alternate medicine bullshit on her podcast as well, there is obviously real actually helpful alternate herbal treatments/medicine etc etc BUT that's not her focus she talks about getting rectal ozone therapy (not kidding) and shoving garlic in her ears to clear her chakras and spreads misinformation. there are plenty of people in america who can't access health care, imagine how you're endangering them by suggesting that rose quartz and mouth tapes and candles will cure you. She promotes a eating disordered diet as a "healthy one". all in all, she's sketchy but people just make fun of her and don't see her as someone manipulating innocent people into buying super expensive "alternate medicine" from Goop.

Helena Blavatsky- Hasta Moon & Venus

Helena is the co-founder of the Theosophical Society and was an international leader figure in the Theosophical community. She basically helped promote eastern spirituality and philosophy in the West except that she's lied about pretty much her whole life, so its hard to confirm literally anything about her. She died in 1891 so at the time when she was alive there was no way for others to prove whether or not she was lying, they just had to take her word for it. She lied about training with sages in Tibet and lied about her mystical experiences, plagiarised ancient eastern texts to write about her "spiritual discoveries" etc There's plenty of proof that she was nothing but a charlatan yet I find it interesting how she still has a devoted following and even in her lifetime enjoyed a good reputation as a mystic medium lmao

Ranbir Kapoor, Hasta Sun & Mercury, Shravana Moon & Rohini Rising

Ranbir gets a lot of hate as of late but for the most part he has enjoyed a really good reputation despite being a shitty person.

Jeane Dixon- Rohini rising

She was a psychic and astrologer who predicted the JFK assassination.

John Allen Paulos, a mathematician at Temple University, explored the tendency of Dixon and her fans to promote her few correct predictions while ignoring the larger number of incorrect predictions, naming this habit "the Jeane Dixon effect."

Many of Dixon's predictions proved erroneous, such as her claims that a dispute over the islands of Quemoy and Matsu would trigger the start of World War III in 1958, that American labor leader Walter Reuther would run for president of the United States in the 1964 presidential election, that the second child of Canadian Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau and his young wife Margaret would be a girl (it was a boy), and that the Soviets would be the first to put men on the Moon. (excerpt from her wiki)

basically she had no real powers but managed to convince others she did, her clients included Ronald and Nancy Reagan lol

Jordan Peterson, Hasta Moon , Rohini Mercury & Shravana Ketu

He is a good example of the worst type of Moon dominant man. He has said among other things:

That class conflict is a natural and eternal struggle for existence that no political or economic revolution could ameliorate. The individual must develop an aggressive, alpha-male attitude in order to climb the social ladder. Peterson is kind of obsessed with power (all Moon dominants are lol) acc to him only a strong will, exercising itself against a contingent and meaningless world — and against the weak — can one ever hope to flourish.

Jordan Peterson endorses the idea that some men are purposely denied sex by women and that conventionally attractive men are 'taking all the sex' from other 'deserving' men. As a result, he suggests that by assigning women to men and pressuring them to 'settle' and have sex with isolated men, they wouldn't be so "angry at God" and commit acts of mass violence and murder. This, as well as criticizing birth control and saying that women would be happier if they just "allow themselves to be transformed by nature into mothers," is dangerous rhetoric that reinforces patriarchal violence against women.

He's a manipulative asshole who propagates his sexist harmful chauvinistic views as pseudoscience or psychology ew

Freud- Rohini Moon, Hasta Mars

i couldn't make a post about Moon dominance and manipulation without mentioning the godfather of promoting his fucked up worldviews as science, Mr Sigmund Freud aka the most successful Moon manipulator who has caused permanent lasting damage to society

Sigmund believed that homosexuality in men is neurotic but not particularly problematic. Lesbianism, however, he considered a gateway to mental illness.

This (according to Sigmund) is because only men have moral sense. We all evolve from apes, so no human is born with it. But boys acquire morality through the castration complex—the fear that their fathers will emasculate them for their misbehavior.

Having nothing obvious to neuter, girls and women are essentially amoral, lying and conniving to get what they want. Girls must be guided through civilized life by a father, and a woman by a husband. And because they choose not to marry, lesbians remain loose cannons, fundamentally untrustworthy and unstable.

His daughter Anna was his closest intellectual and emotional companion. Yet she was a lesbian.

Freud taught that lesbianism is always the fault of the father and is curable by psychoanalysis.

Freud cautioned followers that analysis is an erotic relationship. Analyst and patient together must scrutinize the amorous feelings that flow between them. This being the case, by rules he asked his followers to honor, Freud could not attempt to cure his own daughter’s lesbianism.

he also overgeneralized a lot of his “findings” such as the oedipus complex to apply to all people, which was harmful in the early stages of the formation of psychology. today most of his theories are disproven and widely considered problematic. Freud was obsessed with sex and made everything about sex (Moon men are sex addicts and every Moon man I've mentioned so far has a weird relationship with women)

he is credited with being the first psychologist to actually listen to women's problems but when he did listen to them, and many of them told them of their SA experiences, he changed the narrative to "women want to screw their daddies so they have these dreams/fantasies of sexual encounters in childhood" (the Electra/Oedipus Complex) to sell his books. He LIED basically, he manipulated the truth into something disgusting.

Freud is credited with making psychology a legitimate field and for it gaining attention worldwide but he literally manipulated, lie, overgeneralised and in general spewed a lot of toxic nonsense in order to get attention, like Gwyneth with Goop or Helena with Theosophy.

Sobhita Dhulipala- Rohini stellium

Sobhita like most others bought a brand new face for herself yet masquerades under the "im not like other girls, i read" nonsense, she talks about acting, art and self love like she's some committed thespian when girlie cannot act to save her life. she says she does not work out just cleans her house and does chores to stay fit :) bc she's not like other shallow actresses, she does her own chores :) compared to most other people on this list she's harmless but I find her super pick me and pretentious

Moon dominant people are very good at picking up on lies, and understanding human behaviour because they're liars themselves lol, it takes one to know one.

Azealia Banks- Rohini Sun

she's truly unhinged af and a very vile person but some of the people she's called out are also terrible people and tbh her insults are so poetic lmfao

dont get me wrong i think she's a terrible person but there is some truth to some of the things she says which is what i meant by how Moon dominant people understand human behaviour. also Moon dominant people are HATERS dont expect them to say anything nice about anyone lol

I had a friend who would deliberately compliment every other girl we were friends with (Rita is sooo pretty, Lily is so stunning etc etc) but would never say ANYTHING nice about me EVER and when others complimented me she'd act like she didn't hear it or something lmao (it was wild) and one day I straight up asked how come you never say anything nice to me and she said "oh I didn't know you needed compliments from me, I thought you got enough validation from others, I didn't know you were desperate for more" 😭😭😭😭LIKE GIRL WHATTT, honestly making these posts and exposing the dark nasty side of Moon dominant people is helping me heal from all the toxic abuse I endured at the hands of this shitty girl and some others ughhhh that's the reason why these posts have more personal anecdotes than any other post i've made lol

Oprah Winfrey, Shravana Sun & Venus

Her show was pure exploitation of peoples problems and also gave a platform to the equally exploitative Dr. Oz, the king of fake science, and Dr, Phil, the king of fake psychology.

It's a well known fact that she's friends with Harvey Weinstein & Jeffery Epstein despite being a "supporter" of the Me Too movement. Not to mention, she gave a platform to the phony Michael Jackson accusers from Leaving Neverland (do the research, they're liars) while turning a blind eye to the actual sexual predators of Hollywood, like Weinstein.

Her style of journalism seems to favour the shock value of a breaking news scandal rather than actually seeking the truth.

Several celebrities have come forward to talk about how poorly they were treated on the show. Oprah loves to relish in the misery of other ppl and ALWAYS makes others deeply uncomfortable with the straightup rude and hurtful questions she asks them.

Ellen DeGeneres, Shravana Sun & Venus

the fact that two of the most sociopathic TV hosts to ever grace television has identical placements is so telling. Ellen has been exposed in the last couple of years for being a terrible person to work with and treating her guests like shit. What I find even more interesting is the fact that the person who sort of initially exposed Ellen for being a manipulative liar is Dakota Johnson who has Hasta Sun & Mars, when I tell you that Moon dominant people deeply understand human behaviour and the psychology behind people acting the way they do, this is what I mean, it takes a Moon dominant to understand the manipulation of another one.

Kristen Bell, Hasta Moon

she probably has one of the most toxic marriages ever and yet speaks of it so glowingly and always talks about "how much work" it is to stay married like girl💀💀maybe exit the marriage then?? she has such a sweetheart image but she has admitted that she gives her children non-alcoholic beer, locks them in their room at night, makes them shower with her to "save water", talks to them about their father's addiction and their sex life??

"We make funny videos but we also go to couple's therapy because we disagree on 99.9 percent of issues," she said at the time. "There are days when I'm completely sick of him, and there are days when he is completely sick of me. But we've chosen to love one another and to be a team. We've learned how to communicate and argue in a really healthy, respectful way."- Kristen said this about her marriage like girlie nothing about it sounds healthy, if its this much work then it probably isn't love lol

Kate Winslet, Hasta Sun, Moon & Rising

Winslet has worked with predators like Woody Allen, Harvey Weinstein & Roman Polanski and after Me Too, she shifted her narrative as public opinion regarding these men, whose crimes and accusations have been well documented for decades, has thoroughly shifted to the point where associating with them is no longer good for her and would like to join the right side of history. She & Leo have partied on Jeffrey Epstein's private island as well and she's one the many signatories who signed a petition to free Roman Polanski ewww

This is one example of how image conscious Moon dominant people are, she has no moral compass and had no issue working with all these predators for decades but once it became apparent that she wouldn't benefit from associating with them anymore she's suddenly all "omg terrible men i wish id known better" lol what a liar

She also played a sociopathic Nazi in the movie The Reader

Josephine Baker, Rohini Sun

Josephine Baker was a dancer known for her banana skirt dancing. Later in life, she adopted 12 children from different ethnicities and spent the rest of her life raising them. She is remembered as an icon and for her activism but her children have come out to describe how abusive she was to them.

During her participation in the civil rights movement, Baker began to adopt children, forming a family which she often referred to as "The Rainbow Tribe". Baker wanted to prove that "children of different ethnicities and religions could still be brothers." She often took the children with her cross-country, and when they were at Château des Milandes, she arranged tours so visitors could walk the grounds and see how natural and happy the children were in "The Rainbow Tribe". Her estate featured hotels, a farm, rides, and the children singing and dancing for the audience. She charged an admission fee to visitors who entered and partook in the activities, which included watching the children play.

She created dramatic backstories for them, picking them with clear intent in mind: at one point, she wanted and planned to adopt a Jewish baby, but she settled for a French one. She also raised them in different religions in order to further her model for the world, taking two children from Algeria and raising one child as a Muslim and raising the other child as a Catholic. One member of the Tribe, Jean-Claude Baker, said: "She wanted a doll".

Baker forced Jarry to leave the château and live with his adoptive father, Jo Bouillon, in Argentina, at the age of 15, after discovering that he was gay. Moïse died of cancer in 1999, and Noël was diagnosed with schizophrenia and is in a psychiatric hospital as of 2009. Jean-Claude Baker, the unofficial addition to the Rainbow Tribe, committed suicide in 2015, aged 71.

Angelina Jolie, Rohini Sun

Jolie was clearly inspired by Josephine Baker. she adopted children from different ethnicities and even bought a Chateau in France to raise them in (just like Baker did). For many years Jolie received a lot of flak for her unconventional parenting, like frequently travelling, homeschooling all her kids and not giving them a bedtime or any kind of stable daily routine. I can't comment on it too much because there's not that much about their personal life on the internet but what I do find very interesting is how Jolie has always used the paparazzi to push a certain image and stay relevant. We know that paps only come when you call them, even Beyonce never gets papped, so its very much possible to live a lowkey life. Angelina gets papped absolutely all the time for the last 20yrs, it was especially bizarre because it was obvious that she was trying to shed the "homewrecker image" by always being photographed with her kids doing mom things and its a bit problematic to think that she's using her children as pap fodder to push an agenda. Again, I think Brad is an abusive person but he often spoke back in the day about his desire to keep the children out of the public eye but Angie had to shed her weird punk goth who kissed her brother and was addicted to bad men and drugs image so she tried to present herself as the kind humanitarian and loving mother, I'm not saying that she isn't those things, except that girlie will make sure the paps are around to photograph her doing these things like she called the paps to her daughter's first day of college bro likeeee

Here's a very old article about how smart she is at crafting her image. Again this is not in and of itself a bad thing but it's kind of bizarre to realise how image conscious people can be and how something that seems so "real" and "natural" is actually a well calculated move on their part.

Angelina also played the sociopath Lisa Rowe in the movie Girl, Interrupted. people often associate this character with her Revati Moon but i assure you this is all on her Rohini Sun

Russell Peters - Hasta Sun

Russell is really good at studying people, accents, mannerisms etc which is what makes him a really good comedian but he's also fckn rude and disgusting from time to time.

Honestly Moon dominant men always spew the most vile shit, they talk about people especially women in THE most disgusting way. actual psychopaths ew especially the cocky self assured way in which they say all this bullshit???

Errol Morris- Shravana Sun

he is a documentary filmmaker whose work focuses on the epistemology of the subject, he's obsessed with human nature and trying to understand why people do what they do, all of his docus focus on vvv unusual people, death row prisoners, defence secretary instrumental in the vietnam war, insurance frauds, a man who designs death machines, pet cemeteries etc Morris focuses on people who are questionable to say the least, he tries to humanize people perceived as evil or bad (Moon dominant af lol bc who else would be interested in the motives of bad ppl??)

This preoccupation with human nature is deeply tied to the nature of Lunar people. They have a need to understand "motivations" and what drives people to do what they do. There is an innate tendency to pathologize or pick apart behaviour. This isn't inherently a bad thing but it is something I have noticed among Lunar people.

James Randi- Rohini rising

He was a magician and skeptic who spent his life exposing other people and their paranormal and pseudoscientific claims.

Moon dominant people are skeptical of everything and the least likely to believe in anything, they're always looking for the truth because they deeply understand human ugliness and believe everybody else is like that (they see themselves reflected in others, which is to say that if they're capable of it, then so must others).

Roman Polanski- Hasta Rising

pedophile and child rapist Polanski has directed movies like Rosemary's Baby, Chinatown, The Palace, The Pianist etc,, all of his movies have heavy elements of deceit, lies, manipulation etc all of his characters are looking for the truth.

Claire had mentioned in her video about wealth as to how Rohini (Venus is domiciled in Taurus) (Moon exalts in Rohini) creates contentment and this leads to stagnation because dissatisfaction is what creates growth. If someone is content where they are they decay. I think this can be broadly applied to all 3 Moon naks because they have no other motives, nothing to dry them so they start rotting on the inside and doing terrible, horrible, evil things. Venus and Moon embodies the ugliness of humanity.

Josef Mengele- Hasta Moon

He was a Nazi doctor who conducted abhorrent and deadly medical experiments on the prisoners at Auschwitz and administered the gas to gas chambers. He was nicknamed "Angel of Death"

Lenin- Shravana Moon

if you're familiar with the history of the soviet union you will know that Lenin wasnt exactly a sweetheart

Heinrich Himmler-Hasta Sun, Shravana Rising and Ketu in Rohini

he was a prominent Nazi leader who is "credited" with "designing the Holocaust"

Edward Teller- Rohini Moon

This is the guy who betrayed Oppenheimer and is called "the father of the hydrogen bomb". he later expressed guilt over his involvement in the dropping of atom bombs over hiroshima and nagasaki

Henry Kissinger - Rohini Sun & mercury

he was a warmongering asshole who i hope is rotting in hell. he's one of the worst human beings to have ever existed due to the sheer scale and capacity of crimes he enabled and the millions of people who died as a result. i have extensively talked about how Moon dominant people lack empathy, they literally do not care about others, they are selfish to the point where its actually disgusting and pathetic and this guy is one of the worst examples

During the 1968 presidential election he was in the Johnson administration but wanted to get in good with Nixon. So he leaked information about peace talks with North Vietnam to Nixon. They then went on to use this information to sabotage the peace talks and in turn the election.

He committed treason to extend the Vietnam War, ultimately by seven years. That alone makes him a rare breed of terrible. But it’s also damning because it shows how he ultimately believe in anything other than that he deserves to be close to power. He was willing to play games with millions of human lives over a job. And he would have been in the Humphrey administration if Nixon lost, so it was just a job he wanted more. He didn’t care about fighting communism, the rule of law, patriotism, anything. His death toll alone puts him on a short list of the worst people to ever live, but most of the people on there did what they did for an ideology.

He’s also been described as “the Forrest Gump of war crimes.” He just shows up for no good reason in the history of so many atrocities. Often he ordered them, but he also installed dictators who would carry out genocides. There’s worse people in history, but none who have been involved in so many separate crimes.

just read anything about this vile shitty man and you will understand the kind of cruelty and apathy Moon dominant people are capable of.

moon dominant people are "good" with political & military strategy because they dont care about anybody's well being except their own lol

one time i spoke to a Moon dominant guy and he said that there's no such thing as altruism or selflessness and that everybody behaves in their self interest, i found that very cynical and disturbing and he said even people who do charity or appear to be kind are only doing it because they want others to see them that way and that really says more about the nature of Moon dominant people than anything else. he also said he loved attention of any kind and would do anything to trigger people just so they'd react and give him attention lol basically he admitted to having sociopathic tendencies. He was Rohini Moon. imagine being so morally bankrupt and soulless that you cant believe there's goodness in this world or that people are good with no agenda lol I feel bad for people who have to live life being that bitter, imagine rotting on the inside like that

Herman Kahn- Hasta Moon

He was a military strategist and developed the nuclear strategy of USA during the cold war. which is to say his entire job revolved around manipulation. He is quoted as saying:

"At the minimum, an adequate deterrent for the United States must provide an objective basis for a Soviet calculation that would persuade them that, no matter how skillful or ingenious they were, an attack on the United States would lead to a very high risk if not certainty of large-scale destruction to Soviet civil society and military forces." 💀💀💀(avg moon dominant man be like)

In Kahn’s book, the Doomsday Machine is an example of the sort of deterrent that appeals to the military mind but that is dangerously destabilizing. Since nations are not suicidal, its only use is to threaten.

ok thats it for now besties whewww

i am not claiming that all moon dominant people are terrible people so if you have these placements dont take it to heart. i do however think that the dark side of the moon dominant native is truly terrifying. all i wanted to do was shed light on that.

#astrology notes #astrology observations #sidereal astrology #nakshatras #astrology #vedic astro notes #astro notes #astro observations #vedic astrology #astroblr #jyotish #rohini #hasta #shravana #moon

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leah-lover · 1 month

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Good chaos. Mary earps x pundit reader.

Mary spoils her relationship with reader on air.

Ever since you were a kid you loved talking. You started doing it from a very young age.

you found your comfort in having conversations. Whether it was about the weather, a movie, gossip, or deep concepts you thrived. When you got older you discovered theater, and fell in love with the stage. Cameras and audiences never frightened you.

Heading into college you chose media as a degree and you were expelled at it which landed you a job in the best company in British television, the BBC. of course your beauty helped in the process but they assured that they cared more about your thoughts and talent of capturing attention and holding meaningful conversation. You started your career by doing interviews on red carpets, and hosting a few talk shows. Your audience grew quickly and you found yourself a household name for half a year, which was unheard of.

After a few years you grew tired of the facknes od the Hollywood scene but you still loved your job so you decided to change the scenery and go to sports. The change was radical and brought about many questions from your fans. But they stuck by you. You brought a new following to the sport you chose which was women’s football.

Women’s football was on the rise and you saw an opportunity to change the field.

The WSL felt like the home you needed. The fans of the sport, the atmosphere and the message it transpired was very much up your alley. The thing that helped you feel more at home was the queerness of the game, and the acceptance of the people, something you have been longing for.

It has now been 8 years since you joined BBC sports. Like many predicted you had a huge following across all the platfomùs, you have won awards and presented many to other people.

Everybody loved to be interviewed by you.

Tonight was a special night, it was the last leg of the Olympic qualifying. You as usual were a part of the team that covered the Lionesses games.

The game was nothing short of exhilarating, after a tough 120 minutes the Egland girls made it to the olympics. Screams and cheers erupted as wembley. The most notable person people were cheering for was Mary Earps , the exceptional goalkeepers or as you have her in your contacts by, lovely girlfriend.

Mary was protective, she wanted to keep your relationship a secret to protect your career and you as a person.

You were beyond proud of her, and she was proud of herself too which you described in the sideline interview you did with her.

“ So Mary, that was a stunning performance by you , player of the match, tell me what you think.?” i asked

“ I think the girls did a wonderful job, cheering the midfield for distributing good balls, the forwards did a fantastic job finishing, and obviously my defender who battled with me today. '' she replied shouting.

“ Well I am most excited for this years’ Olympic games. The competition is very heated. What are your thoughts about that?”

“ i am looking forward to playing in the olympics, aiming for gold, and having you there as my good luck omen.”

“ wheel I will make sure to be there all the way.”

Before leaving she gave you a kiss on the cheek and her hand lingered a little too long on your ass.

While Mary left to do press conference duties and leave for your home in Manchester, you stayed in London doing some post production work and you undecided to go party with your team after.

The night was fun, you took a 4 Am flight after and opened your front door around 9 am. It was Mary and your off day so she decided to sleep in.

“ Good morning my love.” you said kissing her temple, and passing your fingers along her face softly. Without hesitation she picked you up and threw you in the bed next to her. Giggling you kisses her softly again, and again, and again.

“ So proud of you baby. I love you so much.”

“ I missed you. I wanted to celebrate with you yesterday. I miss your beautiful body so much.”

“ and my ass.Speaking of my ass, I need to check mùy phone.”

You moved from Mary’s group which earned you a groan. you then put your phone in the charger and set it on.

Your phone almost exploded when you opened it. Your notifications were crazy. You Clicked on the first one which was tweet

“ holy shit Mary is for the girls, holy shit she is an ass girl.” under the tweet was snap pon the moment mary kissed you with her hand on your ass.

“ holy fuck Mary, i think we have been exposed.” you say to here.

You both looked at the tweets for a little bit. All of the ones you saw were positive and surprising.

“ Well you have a very good ass baby.” she said. You smack her hand as a response.

“It was time for people to know that you and your ass are mine now get back into bed so that you can reward me for yesterday.” she added.

“ I have to tweet This first.” you said

“ proud of my goalkeeper. Proud of my girlfriend.” you wrote.

“ Now let the chaos begin while I create chaos between your legs,” you say to Mary.

#woso fanfics #woso #woso imagine #woso community #mary earps #mary earps x reader #mary earps imagine #pundit reader

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daydream-cement · 9 months

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At The Drive-In (NSFW)

Miranda Hilmarson x Reader

Miranda's plans to make her girlfriend's first time special.

Author's Note: I have no clue what compelled me to write this.

Miranda felt wrong for it, but after nearly a year of dating you, she was tired of waiting to have sex. The wait to have sex was mostly the blonde’s doing as it was her own way of showing you that she was there for you and you only.

Kisses were lingering long enough to initiate long bouts of making-out on the constable’s couch. Make-out sessions that the blonde was positive she could feel you grinding against her thigh as the intensity of the kisses increased. Miranda craved your touch to the point she had been daydreaming of this date for weeks.

The drive-in theater had been pointed out by you on a previous date and the constable had been looking at the movie showings for weeks to find something neither of you would want to actually watch. Miranda had been planning for it to be a bit of a romantic excursion, seeing as the Hollywood version of a drive-in usually meant making out.

---

Miranda had been holding this question in the back of her mind for nearly 15 minutes. The movie only serving as background noise to her thoughts. It felt brazen and inappropriate to ask, but she hoped it suggested the desire she had for you. “Would you like to sit in the back with me?”

“In the back?” Your response was automatic from an initial confusion as it would be harder to see the movie from the back. As you considered the question, you realized Miranda was more interested in spending some quality time with you rather than watching the movie.

“Yeah.” Miranda felt like she could be sick, but there was no way she could initiate intimacy if she wasn’t willing to ask for it.

There was a brief pause from you as you considered all of the pent up desire you felt for Miranda and the potential there was for you to finally release it all. “Oh... Yes, please.”

It felt incredibly embarrassing for the constable as she opened her car door and circled back into the back seat. She felt her ears burning and she clenched her fists a few times to chase away the feeling of them starting to shake. You followed suit and slid into the other side of the backseat, your own heart beating like a scared rabbit.

The air was thick with desire, masking itself as unbearable awkwardness.

You shifted closer together, but there was a timidness to you that caused Miranda to swallow her nerves and take the lead. The constable’s tone was gentle and loving and her hands tentative as she waited for permission before taking any liberties.

“Would you like to sit in my lap?” Miranda asked, her hands drifting gently over your thighs.

“Mhmm..” You hummed, crawling your way towards the blonde as the constable placed both of her hands on your sides. She brought you to rest in her lap, straddling her thighs.

In spite of her better instincts, Miranda allowed her hands to shift, stopping at the cusp of your ass. Her fingers swiped back and forth, enjoying the texture of your jeans against the pads of her fingers. You sucked in a breath, not expecting this level of manhandling from Miranda and shocked at how much you loved it.

“You’re very beautiful…” Miranda mumbled as the grip of her hands tightened and she pulled you against her, putting her mouth level at your neck and collarbone. Only if your damned turtleneck weren’t in the way. The constable’s hands trailed over your ass and up her back, her fingers slipping under your sweater and pausing, “Is this okay?”

“Yes.” You squeaked, the speedy pacing being a dramatic change from the blonde’s usual behavior.

“How about this?” Miranda asked as her hands moved higher, beginning to expose your midriff.

“Y-yes.” You stuttered, your arms beginning to lift away from the blonde’s shoulders to provide her with permission to remove your sweater.

The awareness that you being more undressed than she hit the blonde suddenly. The constable stopped, retracting her hands back to her own shirt, lifting it up over her head. She revealed a simple black bra to you.

You settled her hips down against the blonde’s thighs and leaned forward, pressing your lips to the blonde’s. The constable tossed her shirt to the side and began lifting your sweater once more. There was no need for the blonde to ask if her motions were okay as you broke your kiss to help lift the sweater up over your head.

You felt as if there was a faint glow to your chest that only burned brighter when the blonde’s mouth made contact with your neck. Between tastes and kisses, Miranda continued muttering how beautiful she found you to be. Your head was spinning, never had you experienced a sensation that felt as good as this. In order to ground yourself, you gripped the blonde’s shoulders, whimpering as you felt the blonde’s shoulder muscles bulge under your fingertips.

The constable felt insatiable as her lips drifted across your skin. Sinking to the swell of your breast, the blonde pressed a kiss to both of the mounds before gazing back up at you. “Is this okay? Do you want me to keep going or to slow down?”

“Keep… keep going, please.” You whined, your lips dipping back down to capture the blonde’s once more.

The kissing intensified as tongues swept against one another. Miranda went as far as softly chewing on your bottom lip causing you to shudder as a bolt of lightning coursed through your body. Arousal began pooling between your legs, instinct propelling you to push your hips down against Miranda’s thigh.

Miranda’s right hand kept splayed on your back while her left drifted around to the button of your pants. She was panting hard, the kisses taking her breath away, “Do… do you… want to, uh… take your pants off?”

You nodded frantically, pulling away before pressing a few more desperate kisses to Miranda’s lips. The suddenness of the kisses made the constable laugh, and the laughs only seemed to continue at the clumsiness as you attempted to maneuver the backseat as you removed your pants. Your own giggles mixed with the blonde’s as you moved around one another, Miranda focused on keeping you from hitting your head or falling off the back seat.

Through the darkness of the car, Miranda groaned at the faint sight of your underwear. The urges from deep inside the constable got the best of her, her strong hands holding you tight as she guided you to lay back against the cushion of the back seat. Wordlessly, the blonde took a more uncomfortable position with one knee pressing to the floor of the car as her other wedged itself between your legs.

In spite of her forceful movements, the blonde’s words were as gentle and caring as ever. “Is this okay? I’d love to touch you if you would let me.”

You whimpered in response, twisting your body as your hips searched for Miranda’s leg to grind against once more.

“I’m sorry, baby, but I need you to say it… I need you to tell me what you want.” Miranda couldn’t believe the way her voice turned sultry and apparently neither could you, seeing as you sucked in a breath at the command.

“I want you to touch me, please.” You begged, your voice hoarse as your mouth went completely dry. Since when was Miranda so dominating? And why on Earth was it so arousing?

Miranda wasn’t interested in teasing you, your inexperience brought a vulnerability that the constable wasn’t looking to exploit. Rather she slowly trailed a hand down your stomach, pausing at the waistband of your underwear to tuck her fingers under the elastic. Before fully pushing her hand in your underwear, she looked up at your face, studying the way your brow furrowed and lips shifted into a pout from your frustration.

“I love you.” Miranda cooed, tears pooling in her eyes as a sudden wave of nostalgia hit her. Never had she waited this long because she had loved someone so dearly. The constable couldn’t ask for a more perfect person to call her own and she found it to be an utter privilege to be given the opportunity to pleasure you.

“I love you, honey. Now, please…” You were beginning to feel impatient, your hips bucking against Miranda’s hand, pushing it deeper into your underwear. You hadn’t realized the semi-emotional moment from the constable, but the neediness of you brought the blonde back to the moment.

Following your soft trimmed bush, Miranda’s fingers found your slick heat and whimpered at how wet you were. The blonde’s fingers brushed over your clit causing you to suck in a breath. The constable decided to fully focus on your clit, knowing now was not the time for penetrative sex.

At the new sensation of Miranda teasing your bundle of nerves, you dropped her head against the blonde’s sternum and tried to stifle the moans that inched their way from your body. You mewled and clung to the blonde, your hips beginning to roll against the constable’s hand for more.

“Mir… Mir... Oh, Mir...” You called over and over as you unraveled in Miranda’s arms.

“I love the way you sound… I’ve been waiting for this. You are so perfect…” Miranda couldn’t get enough of the feeling of your wetness against her fingers. As she circled your clit, her mind drifted to how good you probably tasted, how beautiful you would look sprawled out on her bedsheets.

The sounds of your squeaks and whines filled the car, pushing the blonde to add pressure and work her fingers quicker. There was no possible way you could hold out any longer, your inexperience and anticipation bringing you an orgasm quicker than expected.

You pushed her face into Miranda’s chest, muffling your moan as the orgasm coursed through your body. Your hips bucked against the blonde’s fingers, both searching for stimulation and shifting away from it.

“Oh, baby…” The constable moaned at the sound and feeling of your orgasm, and withdrew her fingers from your underwear, not wanting to push the boundaries of overstimulation quite yet.

You soon began your own assault on the blonde’s neck and shoulders, hands squeezing at the constable’s shoulders and biceps, silently praising Miranda for her regular workout schedule. The fading elation of the orgasm you had experienced still had you on cloud nine and unable to hear Miranda trying to get her attention. “Oh, sweetie… The credits… The movie is over.”

You pulled your face away, eyes searching for the movie screen. “Oh…”

“Do you wanna stay at mine tonight?” The blonde breathed, sitting up in the backseat and pulling you up with her.

“Yes, please. I’d like to return the favor.”

—

On the front step of Miranda’s home, you were losing patience, your hands slipping around Miranda’s waist grasping for her belt buckle. The blonde chuckled and teased by pushing her ass back into you, her hands working diligently to unlock the front door. She opened the door and propped it open with her knee and manhandled you into her arms, lifting you so you could wrap your legs around Miranda’s waist.

“The couch or the bedroom?” Miranda purred, a strong hand cupping your ass while the other maneuvered in the door.

Your breath quivered at the return of Miranda’s brazenness. If this was the blonde’s intimate and sexual side, you were ready for more. The constable was always so gentle and sweet, almost to a fault. This physically dominating side could be something you could get used to.

“Bedroom…” You huffed, hands on the blonde’s neck as your thumbs stroked the constable’s jaw.

Swiftly, Miranda took you back to her bedroom, maintaining her hold on you as she crawled into bed. The blonde laid you on the bed and sat up to admire you beneath her. A mixture of nerves and excitement churned in the constable’s stomach as the thought of exploring your body in a comfortable place came to mind.

Miranda pulled her shirt from her body, followed by her bra, tossing both to the side to reveal herself to the woman she loved so much. You allowed her eyes to slowly drift over Miranda’s rosy nipples, mouth watering at the thought of taking one in your mouth. The blonde’s overzealousness hadn’t given you the opportunity to properly enjoy her body as the constable began tugging your shirt upwards.

In a flash, you grasped the blonde’s wrist, preventing her from seeing your body in the light. There was something so nerve wracking and painfully vulnerable about exposing yourself to her outside the confines of her darkened car.

Miranda took your hesitancy as a sign of her own rushing of the physical relationship. “I’m sorry… Do you want to stop?”

“No, it’s just…” Your hands tightened around the hem of your sweater, the anxiety of Miranda not liking your form was overpowering.

“I understand if you don’t want me to see, but I’d feel so privileged to see you… to touch you…”

As always, the blonde’s words were incredibly genuine and loving, so much so that you couldn’t help but trust her. You moved her hands away from the sweater and lifted them above your head, giving the constable permission to undress you. You squeezed her eyes shut, unable to bear what negativite reaction the blonde might have when she realized you weren't as perfect as she thought.

Miranda moved slowly, her hands loving the softness of your skin. With some shifting from you, the blonde was able to lift the fabric up over your head, followed by you removing your bra, exposing your body fully. Miranda couldn’t help it when her breath caught, overwhelmed by how beautiful you were.

“I knew you were beautiful… but… oh my god…”

Shock and awe.

That’s what Miranda felt about your beautiful form.

Your hands now covered her face, fearful of Miranda’s face betraying her loving tone. What you couldn’t see was the blonde on the brink of tears, overwhelmed with the divine presence of your exposed form. She blinked away the tears, “God, you… You’re so, so beautiful…”

Rather than trying to convince you of your beauty with more words, the constable took to showing you how beautiful she found you to be. She started at your bellybutton and slowly worked her way up, occasionally poking her tongue from her lips and licking your sweet flesh. She made her way to your sternum and continued her worship, lips finding every mark and scar available.

As her mouth worked diligently to kiss every square inch of your body, Miranda’s hands kneaded at your breasts, delighted with how perfectly they fit in the blonde’s hands.

The tenseness brought on by your nerves slowly dissipated as it was evident your body wasn’t deterring Miranda anytime soon. After a short while, you relaxed into the bed and allowed herself to enjoy the constable’s touch. Your skin felt as if it had a glow wherever Miranda’s touched you, bringing a smile to your face. The same slow process of gaining consent followed by body worship occurred after Miranda’s drifted her attention down to your jeans. This time you felt much more prepared to give herself fully to the constable.

Hours could have passed, neither of you had a concept of how much time had passed, but you both felt buzzed from the intensity. Your breathing was labored as your body ached for another release and Miranda was desperate for a single orgasm. Both of you were needy in the way that you needed to be rapt in one another’s embrace.

“Maybe we could- Would you like to try something?” Miranda asked, her mind finding a solution to her little dilemma.

“Okay.”

Minutes later, Miranda had retrieved a vibrator from her bedside drawer and maneuvered your legs to intersect with Miranda’s, making you look like you were about to scissor. Miranda held the vibrator between your cunts with one hand, and brought the other around your back to keep you close. Uour hands held the blonde’s thighs in a vice grip, the jolting of the vibe against your clit driving you wild. You turned your gaze up to Miranda and were mesmerized by the way the constable was unraveling before you. The blonde’s eyes were squeezed shut and her chest was heaving, causing her breasts to rise and fall in the most wonderful way.

You dipped her head to meet the constable’s breast, humming when the taste of her skin was tangy with sweat. Her nipple was so perfectly textured and shaped that you sucked it slow, releasing it with a popping noise before putting it back in your mouth.

All of it was too much for Miranda, between you moaning around her nipple and your perfect body pressed up against her own, the constable found it impossible to last. She quivered and shook from her orgasm, drawing you in close as she came. You fought hard to come afterwards, your hips bucking and writhing against the vibrator.

You came with a loud groan, your hips falling away from Miranda’s to allow herself reprieve.

Flicking the vibrator into the off position, Miranda discarded the sex toy onto the bedside table, turned off the lights with the remote, and settled into bed next to you. Miranda’s frame curled around your smaller one, your limbs quickly becoming intertwined.

“Thank you.” Miranda mumbled, her hand softly tracing circles into your stomach.

You hushed the constable, your body twisting towards Miranda’s so that you could snuggle in close (hopefully so that you could fall asleep hugging the blonde). “There is no need for that. You are the most wonderful partner I could ask for. I’m happy we could share this experience together.”

“I love you...”

“I love you.”

#gwendoline christie #gwen christie #miranda hilmarson smut #miranda hilmarson x reader #miranda hilmarson #top of the lake #smut #oneshot

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sitp-recs · 4 months

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My AO3 Wrapped: 16 Drarry Recs

This year I’ve embraced a change of pace and read way less than I intended to. This made me feel a bit disconnected from fandom but also allowed me to put this list together in record time so let’s not complain too much 😂 this is shorter and lacking my usual commentary but I didn’t want to break the tradition of sharing my fave reads of the year! Be it for their creativity or peak romance, these 16 amazing fics made my heart beat faster and got me even more in love with Drarry. I’ve read most of them in the first half of the year and it was interesting to see so many fics over 40k, as my usual sweet spot is 10k - 20k. I love the mix of tropes featured here and am very excited to rec authors I’m reading for the first time. ps: I haven’t included any Erised fics since the fest is still ongoing.

Thank you dear creators for sharing so many brilliant works with us this year! 2023 wasn’t my best year fandom-wise, but life has been so generous in other areas that I can’t help but feel humbled today. I wish everyone a lovely start to the new year! As always, please mind the tags and take some time to shower these authors with the appreciation they deserve. Oh, and stay tuned for a rare pair list sometime soon ;)

🍆 Snug by @moonflower-rose (E, 6k)

8th year | touch-starved Harry | soft cock kink

Potter can't keep his hands off himself. Draco can't look away.

🧩 Muscle Memory by @corvuscrowned (E, 8k)

curse breaking | partners to lovers | memory magic

There's something just beneath the surface, just at the periphery of Harry's mind. They've been here before — they've done this before. If only he could remember it.

👹 draco malfoy's substitute murder service by @oknowkiss (E, 10k)

odd jobs | D/s undertones | open ending

When Harry joins the Curse Breakers shortly after his twenty-fifth birthday, he’s surprised to find himself assigned to the Department of Creatures, Cryptids, and Associated Calamities.

🏰 the earth from a distance by spqr (E, 15k)

time travel | Wizarding history | only one bed

“Well,” Harry said gamely, once they’d managed to find the Leaky Cauldron – still under construction but mercifully open for business – and he’d turned up a few knuts from his pockets, enough to get them a room for the night, “it could be worse.”

🎚️ O Come, All Ye Faithful by toomuchplor (E, 20k)

vicar Draco | established relationship | Church of England

Aunt Petunia died, that was what began everything. Or rather, Aunt Petunia was dying. In the act of dying. In which Draco finds faith in the church, and Harry finds faith in Draco.

🎄 Waking Up Slow by @sweet-s0rr0w and @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm (E, 22k)

shop owner Draco | summer romance | light angst

'Twas the night before Christmas, although it’s July / Draco’s a shopkeeper, no-one knows why / There’s hiking and witch caves, freak snowfalls and more / Bad Christmas jumpers, nosy neighbours galore / Narcissa’s here too, but… something’s amiss / And what’s in those chocolates that’s making them kiss?

🚬 Sun Thief by @floydig and BlackRose532 (E, 28k)

slice of life | fast sexual burn | dark humour

It’s 2005, and Draco Malfoy says, “Fuck the Ministry,” Harry works as a handyman in muggle London, and Draco should really stop pissing off the Squib gangs.

🍷 Winner Takes It All by @skeptiquewrites (E, 41k)

break up make up | down & out Draco | hurt/comfort

As with all his friends’ wagers, it starts small. Fifty Galleons for one kiss from Harry Potter is easily done.

🏖️ LA, Who Am I To Love You? by @epitomereally (E, 42k)

Draco in the Muggle World | pining Harry | recreational drug use

Harry’s summer in LA is not going as expected. Pansy Parkinson keeps inviting him to parties in the Hollywood Hills and harassing him to finally go to the physical therapist, Blaise Zabini keeps slipping new strains of his company’s magical weed into Harry’s pockets in hopes of an endorsement, and Draco Malfoy keeps having sex with everyone but Harry.

🫃Shine On, You Crazy Diamond by @lagerloutfic (E, 42k)

fwb to lovers | gay awakening (Harry) | mpreg (Draco)

Harry has probably always wanted Draco, it just took him a few years to figure that out. A story about the joy of discovering exactly who you are and how easy it can be once you do.

🚣‍♀️ Our Objective Remains Unchanged by @citrusses (E, 46k)

rowing AU | enemies to lovers | university setting

Harry Potter, returning member of the Oxford University Boat Club, has two goals for the spring of 2005: beat Cambridge, and beat Draco Malfoy. Perhaps not in that order.

🧶 Polar Night/Midnight Sun by toomuchplor (E, 54k)

cabin fic | wintery vibes | only one bed

Harry travels to arctic Norway on the trail of dragon egg poachers, only to find he's been assigned to work alongside the only NorMagPol Auror north of sixty: one Draco Malfoy.

🎩 Nights With You by @the-sinking-ship (E, 58k)

holiday fic | fake relationship | mutual pining

Draco is mortified when moments prior to departing for the most anticipated destination wedding of the year, he is cruelly dumped. But when he learns that Harry Potter has, at long last, split with his horrible boyfriend, Draco is certain his luck has changed.

👮🏻‍♂️Rookie Moves by peu_a_peu (E, 75k)

auror partners | slow burn | humour

Aurors Potter and Malfoy crack the case.

🖼️ where all the veins meet by @saxamophone (E, 146k)

sad bois | Grimmauld Place | found family | 8th year

It's the summer of 1998. The battle is over, and Voldemort is dead, but Harry still has more questions than answers. Who is he without a piece of Voldemort's soul in his head? What is he supposed to do now?

📼 Always Already by @aibidil (E, 170k)

time travel | forced proximity | mutual pining

Harry and Draco are perfectly fine, separately minding their business in 2004, when the Unspeakables conscript them into service... in the First War against Voldemort.

#ao3 wrapped 2023 #drarry #Sitp faves

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sevenpoyo · 9 months

Text

some brooklyn slang ik for all the ppl who wanna write for miles and kilometers‼️

feel free to add more idk everything but i i am originally from there and visit a lot this stuff i hear a lot and if you wanna add slang to ur writing this is a good place to start, not all of these brooklyn or ny exclusive but that’s where a lot of american slang starts and u prolly heard some of it b4. imma list it ne ways

don’t use like 8 of these in one sentence bc it will sound weird and i can’t really cover ny puerto rican slang or any puerto rican slang really bc my grandad is a bum so if you know some add it

the city is manhattan, not the other 4 burroughs, just manhattan, cus that’s where everything’s at

to cut ass is to roast tf out of someone , to get your ass cut is get tf roasted out of you

wyling/wilding is being outta pocket, something being absurd or crazy

yeah nah means no and nah yeah means yeah idk why they gotta make it complicated just look at the second word

good looks is like good looking out

it’s bout to be winter and i’m bout to see mad christmas fics and shit but do y’all know the proper way to describe cold ny winters?

if it’s cold as hell, it’s brick outside, not regular cold, ny winter is like nipples so hard i see em thru the bra cold

ex; “how it’s so brick outside i walk to the store wit my hair wet and it deadass got icicles in it” “yeah it’s fr brick outside today” “i’m not walkin wit u in this brick ass weather for a bacon egg and cheese?” (actual convo between my sister and me last winter break)

fronting seem kinda easy to me but is like acting or pretending i can’t explain it with out an example

“why you fronting like you wouldn’t die if they text you asking u to go out with them” “you can stop fronting like you like cars it cool if you don’t” “don’t sit there fronting like u don’t wanna dance wit me”

being tight over something is just being upset or annoyed

rj is so smart they said “We say tight bc you kinda huddle close to yourself when you tense/stressed or angry” i had no idea i just be saying it i aint know it had a reason💀 it make sm sense now.

“who got you tight like that this early in the morning?” “my momma came home tight yesterday for no reason, she threw a boot at me!” “i’m so tight this damn shift change has me working all closers this week”

jack is like claiming someone or something

i talk old as hell idk what the youths be jacking nowadays

cop is basically to get, used to be mostly 4 drugs back in the day my dad said (he don’t know why im asking him this)

“just copped me some retro 3’s” “bout to cop me a few percs in a minute”

speaking of a minute, mostly for my non americans bc that’s who get confused the most when i say this one. depending on the context this can mean a actual minute, a short time or a real long

“i’ll be back in a minute” is short “i ain’t seen y’all in a minute” is long. idk how to explain the difference besides context

bop is a good song, pretty easy but i see ppl on tiktok use it wrong

bangs/banger goes hard is kinda like bob for music but i be using it for anything fr

“this push pop is banging yo”

mad can be used normal like angry but it also means a lot or really kinda like hella ig? i usually uses hella when i would say mad so ppl can understand me easier up here

dumb also mean very in the same way

ex; “my english teacher give out mad homework for no reason.” “she be giving me mad shit over the smallest stuff” “i just had some mad good wings so i’m cooling rn” “this shit is mad spicy u sure you want some?” ''This shit got me dumb tight'' “you don’t need no jacket it’s dumb hot out here”

smacked is like high as fuck idk how to elaborate ur just high

lit is drunk

“Yuuuur!'' A signal, a greeting usually used to catch the attention of someone or something very fun greeting and very hated by schools, it’s weird anywhere outside of ny kinda at least to me.

being hollywood means u get a little fame and think ur all that or just that u got a little fame and they’re jokingly hating

ex; “i saw u on the news the other day, “the prowlers return” u must be real proud of yourself huh hollywood?” “and here comes hollywood wit his trending tiktoks”

real talk is when ur about confess something or say something serious in a not real serious setting or convo

“real talk we play a lot but i love you, my life would be boring with out you around” “real talk i’d never do that to you foreal”

go together is like go out kinda, y’all kinda match behavior cus y’all a couple, this one need a sentence 2 i think. (THIS ONE IS OLD AS HELL ONLY USE IT IF UR TRYING TO RIZZ MOMMA RIO)

“he want ur number? he don’t know we we go together or sum?” “why she wanna act like we go together, ion even know her?” “don’t we go together?”

i can’t even explain it with a sentence y’all just gotta figure this one out 💀

A bodega/deli is a convenience store ik most know this from the movie but some ppl think it’s all stores or all spanish stores when it’s just a corner store

the owners of the deli closest to my granddad house is muslim. and so we keep track of all muslim holidays when he’s closed

an ock is the bodega man, miles knows the man’s name at the deli we see him visit, but at any other store he’d call the guy ock

dipping on someone is changing ur mind last minute, usually canceling plans

ex “we was supposed to go get outfits together but they dipped on me last minute”

staticky is like wanting to fight or still being pissed after a fight

static is beef or on sight energy

you good can really be anything but imma list ones i can think of

it can mean like are you ok? or don’t worry about it, or how are you, or stop, or do you got a issue? or do you want an issue? it’s all in the tone of how it’s said fr

'Word of my moms/dads I saw/ did/did not *insert topic*'' Honest term, no lying present in statement i feel like (my cousins be putting anything on they momma fr risking shit on her for no reason)

'hold it down'' handle buisness / take care of someone or something. can also be in refrence to criminal who handles ''buisness''

NOW EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU TO @rashadisback BC HE CARRIED ME ON THIS‼️

i hope this helps any writers that don’t live here!

#42 miles morales x reader #miles morales x reader #atsv x reader #across the spiderverse #atsv

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haesunflower · 1 year

Text

the way he loves | sung hanbin

genre: a little angst, mostly fluff, comfort

pairing: reader (gn) x sung hanbin

about/tags: hanbin has no time for himself and is exhausted. though reader is worried about him, hanbin fears reader will leave him (1.1k words)

hanbin is overworked and spread too thin, yujin matthew and hao are mentioned, sleepy boy hanbin, he's doing his best for everyone 100%, y/n is just worried for him

“You need to stop doing that to yourself, Hanbin”

Hanbin looks up at you, confused. His eyebrows slightly knit together and he tilts his head to the side, as if questioning what exactly you mean.

To be fair, you did bring it up out of the blue. You couldn’t help it though, he just looks so exhausted. Without any makeup, you can clearly see his dark undereyes, and his skin has gotten so much paler. His eyes are slightly red too, you presume from rubbing it to stay awake. Albeit the obviousness of sleep deprivation, he still showed up to your date today.

You can tell he’s trying so hard for you. With that, you let out a deep sigh – hand extending across the table to get ahold of his.

“I’m worried for you Hanbin-ah, I think you’re overworking yourself”

Taking your hand, he softly smiles at you. He brings the back of your hand to his lips, kissing it gently before saying “Thank you for worrying about me, love. But I’m okay.”

The vibrancy of his smile, while still plastered on his face, isn’t really there. But Hanbin changed the topic, and you let it go. You listened to him as he told you about the new choreography they’ve been learning and how they’re flying to Japan soon. He tells you that he’s been practicing his Japanese to communicate with fans more.

Hanbin has always been the kind of person to always put other people before himself. It’s the way he loves. He’s never been the type to be burdened to help another person, it just comes so innately with him. Truthfully, it’s why you fell in love with him in the first place. To be loved by the most selfless person on the planet is something you were grateful for everyday.

Little by little, you start to understand how Hanbin got himself to this position. When they moved in at the dorms, he spent his nights helping Yujin with his homework after practice. You learned from Hao that Hanbin has been helping him with his Korean as well. On top of that, Hanbin has still been showing up to school, attending classes left and right. Yesterday, when he visited his mom at the café, he even picked up a few shifts in the kitchen for a part-timer that didn’t show up that day. And right now, he was carving out time for you when he could be resting.

You spend the next few days distancing yourself a little so that he has more time to himself. You don’t communicate this with him, because you know he’ll continue to insist that everything is fine.

When you don’t respond to his texts with your usual energy, or stop making plans with him on the weekends, Hanbin genuinely starts to think he’s losing you. He feels like he’s grasping at straws when he invites you to come over at the dorm to watch a movie with him. He’s scared you’ll say no.

But you agreed mainly because you miss him, and you felt kinda guilty for icing him out like that. You rationalized that you would both just be at arm's length from a bed or a couch anyway. So when you arrive at the dorm for your movie date and find him peacefully asleep on his bed, you let him sleep. You patted his head, and tucked his blanket tighter against his body before turning off the lights in his room.

When Hanbin wakes up, he thinks he messed up.

He looks around the room and wonders how he got there. Checking the time, it’s been 4 hours since he’s invited you over. He frustratingly puts his face in his hands, hating himself for falling asleep.

He hears voices coming from the living room. Slowly following the sound, he finds both you and Matthew laughing at some Hollywood romcom he hasn’t seen before. There’s popcorn and beer laid out on the floor where you're both seated, and an array of pillows and blankets.

It looks like they’ve been at it for hours, Hanbin thinks to himself. It’s Matthew that notices him standing there first.

“Oh hyung, you’re awake!”

Even though he says it excitingly, Hanbin can’t help but take it as a dig. You’re smiling at Hanbin and gesturing to him to sit down next to you, but he doesn’t notice. He’s too in over his head, thinking that he fucked up and thus easily replaceable.

He needs water to clear his head. So he doesn’t respond and just walks to the kitchen. Confused, you get up to follow him.

Hanbin is opening the fridge when you wrap your arms around his waist, head resting in the middle of his back. He stands there and feels your embrace, placing his hands atop of yours as he lets out a deep sigh. Fridge door long forgotten, he says sorry first.

“Sorry I fell asleep love, I didn’t mean to”. He sounds defeated. His head is hanging low, and he doesn’t turn around to face you, fearing your reaction. You simply hug him tighter and press a small kiss on his back, making sure he feels loved.

“I didn’t wanna wake you, don’t beat yourself up over it”

Arms still holding him, you crane your neck to the side to see his face. He’s looking down at the floor and biting his lip, as if punishing himself. You use your left hand to force him to look at you instead.

His eyes are searching yours, as if trying to read you. He looks anxious, as if his next words were crucial.

“Don’t leave me, Y/N”

His voice cracks at the slightest, and your heart breaks. Your eyes soften and you run your hand through the back of his head, gently stroking against his scalp.

“I’m not leaving you silly, I love you too much”

He just gently nods repeatedly, relieved to hear you say that. This time, he engulfs you quickly into his arms, head resting atop yours. You can hear his heartbeat as you rest your ear to his chest. When it slows down, you ask him what he wants to eat for dinner.

You look up at him and he presses a chaste kiss to your nose. It tickles and you can’t help but smile widely at him. His arms are still resting at your waist when he responds.

“Anything you want, love.”

Even in moments like these, he simply yields to what you want. You nod at his response and decide to order his favorite food. You’ll have to have another conversation with him about prioritizing himself for once, but right now, you gladly do it for him.

He cups his hands on either side of your jaw and brings you to a kiss. Only then, he finally smiles.

A/N: This one is more fluffy and longer than I thought it would be. Thank you to the person who requested!

૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

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twyftwyt · 6 months

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part 2 to this little imagine that I posted earlier today (since you guys seemed to like it very much)

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings: smut 18+ (a little at the end), angst

Authors note: so this started as a little imagine I wrote in my drafts a few days ago and I got so many positive comments to expand it, so you know, i gotta give it you, it’s only fair; let me know if you’d like me to continue this story as I have quite a few ideas for it

…you have more pieces of me than the desert has sand

and i have less pieces of you than I can hold in my hand…

By the time we reached my house my tears had dried and I’d calmed myself down as much as I could. Noah stayed silent the whole drive home and it crushed me a little that he didn’t fight back on what I said earlier. Silence was agreement, in my eyes. And he seemed to be on the same page with what I said.

He parked the car in front of my house and turned off the engine. The low hum coming from the speakers fell silent and the air felt even thicker now. Neither one of us knew what to say or do next and I didn’t want to leave like that. But I wasn’t going to be the first to speak either. I was too scared to look at him, as well. I knew that the moment I looked at him, I’d cave and try to hug him. Or say something to make this whole situation better. But the truth was that it was better left this way. We needed time. I needed time.

“Can I walk you to the front door?”

I wanted to say “yes”, believe me, I did. But it was not gonna be like the usual times, where he’d walk me to the door, kiss and hug me, sometimes even try to come in, and I’d let him. I knew this time was gonna be tough and heavy. And so I decided to politely decline.

“I can walk myself to my house, Noah. It’s fine.”

I knew that came out a bit harsher than I wanted it to be, but I didn’t have the capacity to be nicer. I was hurting and I had all the right reasons for my emotional state right now. My eyes were red and puffy, my lips - swollen, my heart felt heavy in my chest.

“Don’t be this way, please. It is shit enough as it is. Just let me walk you.”

“Why? You can wait in the car until I close the door”

“Get out of my car then.”

I didn’t expect that kind of an answer and so I finally looked up at him. Same blank expression, right hand firm on the steering wheel. Did he really just tell me to get out of his car?!

“You know, I wanted to be nice to you. End this night on a more positive note. But since I see you’ve managed to bring your attitude with your goodnight’s, have it your way. Asshole.”

My tears were bubbling up again and I didn’t wait long enough for him to see them streaming down my face. I took my keys in my hand and got off the passenger seat, slamming the door. By the time I reached the patio my vision was blurry and my hands were shaking. I managed to put the key in the hole and didn’t look twice before slamming the door to my house as well. He could go to hell for all I care about.

I can’t properly remember how I managed to take a shower and tidy up my room before I got into bed, all I knew was almost six months of building something with someone just went to shit. And I should’ve known from the start. I should’ve seen the signs, I should’ve taken my friends’ advices when they told me numerous times to not deal with a man like him. I should’ve listened. I should’ve left when he said he doesn’t know what a healthy relationship feels and looks like. I should’ve left when he stayed silent for all of our arguments. I should’ve left when he said he wasn’t ready. But of course, I’ve always been known to go against my instincts. Like I did the first time I met him.

I got invited to a friend of a friend’s party at the Hollywood Hills, a place I wasn’t very fond of and up until the last moment, I decided not to attend. And if you ask me now, why I changed my mind all of a sudden, I won’t be able to come up with and adequate answer. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to explain everything that happened that night.

It was a nice pool house, looking over the hills, all white and minimalistic and the music was booming all around. There were people everywhere and liquor, lots and lots of liquor. I wasn’t used to going to parties. At least not anymore. I preferred having my peace of mind at home, with a movie or working on something. And so when I arrived at said party, I wished I could teleport anywhere but here. That’s up until I met him. Noah.

Noah, Noah, Noah.

The first time I laid my eyes on him he was leaning against a wall, holding a bottle of beer in one hand and a phone in the other. I found it amusing that he was wearing sunglasses inside but I kinda understood why. I’d wear a pair too if it made me look less approachable. He was looking at the screen of his phone, scrolling away his life. He was wearing all black. Black “The Witch” shirt that immediately caught my attention. Black sweats and what looked like skull slides with white socks. In all honesty, he looked ridiculous for a party. I must have stared at him for too long, cause he picked his head up from his phone and looked my way. I quickly moved my glance from him and focused on a girl trying to get into the pool, but soon enough I felt the air move around me and the smell of a strong perfume enveloped me.

“That’s a cute pajama.”

I tuned to face the man who called my boho pants “pajama”, ready to call him out, but quickly froze when I was met with the piercing eyes of the man I had just spent 10 minutes staring at.

“And that’s a bold first thing to say to anyone.”

“Not as bold as your fashion statement.”

Cheeky.

“Says the man wearing skull slides and sunglasses indoors.”

He laughed at me and raised his beer up to my face.

“Cheers to that.”

We locked eyes and I felt my knees getting weak.

I checked my phone one last time before I put it on DND and placed on my nightstand. I don’t know why I was expecting a text from him, some sort of explanation, reassurance that everything’s gonna be fine and this was just a stupid spat. I don’t know why I wanted to believe this is not over. I don’t know how I managed to trust him so fast and to get hurt just as fast. I grabbed my phone one last time to check for messages again and my heart sunk once the screen lit up.

“I’ve been sitting in front of your house for almost 2 hours now, trying to figure out what the hell just happened between us. All I know is, I don’t wanna go home tonight. Not like this. I need you.”

The speed at which I went for the stairs almost got me killed. The moment I opened my front door and saw him leaning on the hood of his car made my knees go weak the same way it did when I first saw him. Our eyes locked and I could swear that by the time he reached my patio, he was basically running. His body slammed so hard into mine that it made me trip over my legs and almost knocked me over. His hands were around my waist, his wet lips all over my face and I could feel his dick pressed against my belly.

“Noah..”

Was all I managed to moan in his mouth, while digging my fingers in his hair.

“Let me..” he looked me up and down hungrily and gripped my ass “..inside.”

I was done for.

#noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens cult #fic

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tgmsunmontue · 3 months

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More than movie magic... 1/?

Hangster AU. Explicit. Jake is a Hollywood actor and Bradley is a stunt coordinator. Jake's about to make a few self-discoveries.

“Jake, we can’t permit you to actually jump off the train. That’s why you have a stunt double and we have a stunt coordinator.”

“But it’s the whole point, to get to do the fun stuff.”

“Fun stuff, yes. Dangerous stuff? No.”

Jake rolls his eyes.

“Who makes the call between dangerous and fun?”

“Our stunt coordinator. He’s tasked with deciding when to use the stunt double, and how the stunts will work best.”

“So he’s a wet blanket.”

“Safety blanket.”

“Just what I always wanted.”

He folds his arms and leans back in his chair, it’s probably some old guy, Jake can sweettalk him, convince him to let Jake have some fun and at least try some things.

… … …

Bradley walks the perimeter of the set, familiarizes himself with the layout of the emergency exits, the overhangs and the storage areas. He knows others call him paranoid, but he’s also never had anyone get more than a graze when he’s been in charge and it’s a statistic and record he’s proud of. He knows there are people now who won’t work with anyone else but him, he’s become sought after within the industry. He wants to keep people safe, even the ones that are taking all the risks.

He doesn’t need the Director and Producer trailing after him, warning him about how Jake Seresin has already been making noises about wanting to do the stunts himself. Bradley won’t let that be happening, mainly because Seresin hasn’t been trained in how to be a stunt person, and his crew have. There’s a reason why they don’t get hurt and it’s because they all work at it. Maybe if he had more time and had been able to work with him, but now, as filming is starting?

No way in hell.

… … …

Jake doesn’t know who the guy is that the Director and Producer are both talking to, walking around the wide edge of the set. The guy moves softly, almost gliding across the ground, long legs and Jake feels his mouth go dry. Fuck he wants those around his waist. Should probably keep that under wraps until he at least knows who he is; which is going to happen soon considering they’re headed his way.

“Jake, meet Bradley Bradshaw, team lead for stunt coordination. Bradley, this is Jake Seresin.”

“Hi.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jake says, and the guy’s almost indifference about meeting him is a nice change, but also god, he’s a couple inches taller than Jake but he can’t think of anything other than bending him in half.

Yeah.

He’s going to need to get laid because this is going to be a problem. He can’t walk around lusting after the stunt guy.

… … …

He feels better a couple of days later, less wound up after calling up one of his acquaintances and arranging a mutually beneficial session of pressure relief. He doesn’t often need to resort to calling someone, his sex drive is usually pretty low when he’s not in an actual relationship, but something had sparked it into a flame that needed putting out. He’s back to nothing and he feels normal again as he walks to the set from his trailer. He’s meant to be working with Bradley today, run through some of the stunts.

Bradley has a team of people, he’s busy working with them, some making huge jumps between two buildings, tumbling and then jumping up, looking like they’re made of rubber, almost bouncing off the ground. He can see Bradley laughing and joking with them, and they’re obviously a close-knit team and he wonders what that would be like, to work with the same people day-in and day-out. He gets that, but there’s always an end-date of when filming stops and he might never see some of the people again.

“Jake. Hi. I’m going to need to run you through some exercises, figure out what I’m working with in terms of suitability for different scenes…”

“These muscles just aren’t for show, I can handle whatever you throw at me.”

The look he gets in response is so unimpressed Jake almost feels ashamed, but then feels a flare of anger.

“You’re not a trained acrobat, while you definitely have muscle mass, it’s not always the right type for what will look good on screen. Trust me, you’ll look good in the movie. And during the press afterwards you won’t be wearing a cast or bruises…”

“I’d make a cast look good…”

“Not on my watch you don’t.”

He sounds deathly serious and all ideas of ever being able to sweettalk him fly out of his head.

… … …

“Can I just not fall into the safety net?”

“No, you’re wearing a wire, that safety net is worn in places. I wouldn’t let my own team up there without a harness on.”

“Fine.”

“You’re welcome.”

… … …

“You can jump from this plate, to this one, to this one. They’re all going to move, not enough to topple you off, but enough that’ll feel unsteady underfoot. You need to trust your landing.”

“Am I going to be doing this from a height?”

“I don’t know, do you consider five inches a height?”

Jake pulls a face.

… … …

“I want –”

“No.”

“You didn’t even listen to what I was going to ask!” Jake exclaims.

“I don’t need to. I’ve already assessed the scene and you’re not doing it.”

… … …

Jake isn’t meant to be on set today, they’re filming some filler scenes, he’s meant to be doing some promo work but it’s already been rescheduled. He’d left his kindle in his trailer, and yes he could have asked his assistant to collect it, but he’d wanted something to do. A task with a clear completion that he could mentally tick off as done. He doesn’t get stopped, walks straight through and there’s definitely stuff happening, but it’s with other actors, crowd scenes and then there…

There is Bradley. Shirtless, wearing low-hanging jeans which allow Jake to see every shift of muscle under his skin. He’s got scars, Jake wants to run his fingers over them, feel the different texture of skin, see how many there might be on other parts of his body.

Huh.

That little flame is back.

He’s lean, but still decently covered in muscle that he clearly uses for his job, rather than Jake’s which is there to make him look good. He steps back a little, not trying to hide exactly, but not wanting to draw attention to himself either.

There’s a line of bottles, the fancy glass water bottles, with metal caps, about ten of them, spaced about two feet apart along a ledge made from benches. It’s out of the way but for some reason there’s the little orange cones demarking an active space. As he watches Bradley enters the space, uncoiling a long length of something and Jake realizes it’s a whip. Jake knows how to use a whip, he grew up on a ranch as a kid before he was scouted. This though… this looks more than just using a whip.

Bradley knocks the first bottle over and from where he’s watching he can only faintly hear him swear. Wonders what the purpose is if it isn’t to knock them over. Then the second bottle is knocked over and he watches as Bradley cricks his neck, sets his shoulders and shifts his stance a little and then… Then he cracks the whip and the cap of the third bottle goes flying off and hears the fucking finally that Bradley yells, but he’s stuck watching as Bradley then proceeds to uncap a further six bottles, knocking the second to last one over.

Oh shit.

He wasn’t trying to knock them over, he was opening them.

And he got it seven times out of the ten.

Holy shit.

He’s unbearably hard in his pants, doesn’t understand why watching a guy use a whip has gotten him this hard. Doesn’t change the fact that he’s hard though so he goes to his trailer, locks the door behind him and frantically jerks himself off.

Well.

That’s new.

… … …

PART TWO

#Hangster #Sereshaw #more than movie magic #Top Gun Maverick

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mysterious-moonstruck-musings · 4 months

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WIP Wednesday Thursday

Happy Thursday y'all! It's been a while since I gave an update on the Dancing with the Stars Dieter fic, Closed Position.

As mentioned before, I do not plan to fully dive into this fic and start posting until Destiny & Deliverance has been completed. However, there is only one chapter and the epilogue left (I'm not ready). Since, it's not that far off...I have started working on my outline for dancing Dieter. More below the cut. 👇

I have it planned out fairly well, so I am sharing my chapter list with you today. This could change slightly when I start digging in, but this is the format I'm going with:

Prologue

Introductions

Week 1 - Foxtrot

Week 2 - Cha Cha

Week 3 - Jive

Week 4 - Rumba

Week 5 - Argentine Tango

Week 6 - Paso Doble

Week 7 - Jazz

Week 8 - Viennese Waltz

Week 9 - Quickstep

Week 10 - Samba

Week 11 - Finale

Epilogue

I've been doing a ton of homework on the show, so I plan to incorporate a lot of crazy behind the scenes stuff that actually happens and makes for an entertaining plot. Anyone down for a weekly spray tan? No? Dieter isn't a fan either.

This fic will not be anywhere near as angsty as D & D. However, some tough topics are mentioned, mostly relating to Kat's (OFC) asshole ex who will be very present as another professional dancer on the show. Then of course, Dieter's issues with drugs and alcohol are discussed too. He will be sober in this fic, but early on in his journey. Still very much our loveable, hot mess trash panda though.

I would like to do a lot more extras with this fic. I plan to share some inspiration videos for each chapter so you will have a visual of the dances. I think it will help you understand what ultimately causes Dieter and Kat to fall for each other. If nothing else, the visuals are just hot AF.

There will be a lot of Latin dances, just because we have to show off Dieter's loose hips. You know there are going to be jokes about that. I feel like it's a good excuse to take Dieter's button allergy up a few notches too. 😏 Here is a sexy little Rumba video to get us started. This dance may or may not be the one that gets them in trouble...🤐

youtube

Series Summary: Dieter Bravo was looking to change his bad boy image and clean up his act after hitting rock bottom. His team hoped that having him join the nationally televised family friendly dance competition would be a good first step, if they can keep him out of trouble.

Katarina Stamos expected her last season as a professional dance partner to one of Hollywood’s biggest stars to go the same as it had for the past nine seasons. That all changed when she was partnered with the infamous Dieter Bravo.

Dieter and Katarina are reluctantly thrown into their partnership and must learn to work together to succeed in the competition. In the process they form a deeper connection beyond the dance floor that neither anticipated.

If you would like to be added to my taglist for this fic, feel free to comment below or shoot me a message and I will get you added.

Tagging all my usuals. If this isn't a fic you would like to be tagged on, let me know and I will remove you. 😉

@rhoorl @chaoticfestninja @survivingandenduring @partyofone3413 @wannab-urs @cakipy-blog @titlee78 @poodlebae @guelyury @missladym1981 @maried01 @alokaerza @samiamproductions @misstokyo7love @themonadiaries-blog @madnessofadaydreamer @darkheartgatita @avastrasposts @weho2kcmo @harriedandharassed @tkchaos @girlofchaos @yghuibt @musings-of-a-rose @secretelephanttattoo @maggiemayhemnj @legendary-pink-dot @linzels-blog @morallyinept @undercoverpena @sin-djarin @trulybetty @goodwithcheese @jazzloveslatte @timpletance @myloveistoolittle @annieispunk @bitchwitch1981 @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @for-a-longlongtime @hisandsnakes @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat @copperhalfcent

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic #dancing dieter #closed position teaser #closed position series #Youtube

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hopelesslyromanticgay · 10 months

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An Americano, Please? Part 2

Word Count: 757 A/N: italicized text within quotation marks means that the person speaking is using Romanian instead of English

Y/N's POV:

I haven't seen Jenna for five days, so she was probably just a tourist. It's not uncommon for a tourist to pop by the shop asking for a coffee but not being able to speak Romanian, so I have no idea why I'm so sad that she's not coming back.

I thought the idea of a "hallway crush," (someone you've interacted with once or twice for a short or professional amount of time, but are attracted to nonetheless), only lasted through high school. I guess I was wrong.

Friday morning, the shop is quiet because of how early it is. I shovel some coffee beans into the grinder. Despite the annoyingly loud noise it makes, I find it an oddly satisfying process.

I yawn, getting out of bed at four thirty for a five AM shift is nobody's idea of a good start to a day.

Once the coffee's all ground up, I put some in the drip coffee brewer and the rest next to the espresso machine.

In the back, I can smell my coworkers taking today's baked goods out of the oven.

"Hey, L/N, want a cinnamon bun? It's a little 'burnt', so we can't sell it," my coworker and friend Nessa asks. Every Friday is the same, Nessa and I are two of the only people around the shop this early, so we'll sneak a pastry and say it was burnt if anyone asks.

"Sure, Thanks!" I reply, taking the warm pastry from her. Taking a bite, a smile creeps across my face, "did you guys change the recipe? This is even better than last week's!"

"Yeah, boss asked if we could add a few more spices to the dough," she explains, "I'm a pretty big fan of the new recipe if I do say so myself."

It's not long before the cafe starts to smell like cinnamon and coffee, a perfectly inviting scent in the gloomy fall weather.

Five twenty and it's time to open up the shop. Of course, no one actually arrives until six, usually. Nevertheless the owner says being open early is best for business.

As I wait for the first customers to arrive, I zone out. There's not much to do except for sitting alone with my thoughts.

I'm so lost in thought that I'm thoroughly shocked when I hear the bell on the door ring, indicating that someone has entered the shop. I look up to see who it is. Then it dawns on me. She's a little paler than last time, but it's still her.

"Jenna?" I ask incredulously, I thought for sure she was gone.

"You remember me?" she raises an eyebrow.

"I remember most people who can't speak Romanian," I lie.

"Sure," she giggles.

"What can I get for ya today?" I ask.

"You know, I think I'll take your joke from the other day seriously," she replies with a faint smirk, "I'll have an Americano with oat milk please."

"Alright, an Americano for the American," I laugh, mixing the drink, "so, what brings you to Romania?"

"Could you please repeat that?" she asks, "sorry, I've been having trouble focusing lately."

"Well, you're clearly not a tourist, because most tourists don't stick around for more than three days. So I'm just wondering, what brings you to Romania?" I repeat.

"Oh, uh, I'm filming a TV show," she explains.

"You act?" I ask. I don't know why I'm surprised. She certainly has the looks and charisma for Hollywood.

"Yeah," she smiles, "this is definitely one of the bigger things I've done though."

"Congrats on that! What are you filming? Are you allowed to tell people?"

"It's a show about the Addams family," she tells me.

"Oh I love that franchise!" I exclaim, "Are you playing one of the family members?"

"Yeah, I'm Wednesday, which is both exciting and nerve wracking."

Okay, so I'm literally talking to a celebrity.

"Woah... That- that sounds like an awesome job," I smile, "good for you. So you'll be in the area for a while?"

"What's it to you?" she smirks flirtatiously, "you wanna take me out on a date or something?" I feel a blush start to creep it's way to my cheeks.

"That depends, you gonna be in town for a while?"

"At least six more months."

"In that case, how about I show you around town sometime?"

"I'd like that," she smiles. As much as I would love to keep up this banter, there's too many people in the store now.

I hand her the receipt, my number neatly scribbled down on the blank side, "reach out when you're available," I wink.

She heads out and I watch as she leaves.

On with the day. Only four hours left of this shift.

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chasedbyatlantic · 3 months

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opening night, joel miller

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summary: IN WHICH — the famous joel miller, who happens to be your husband, decides to have some fun with you on the opening night of his tour.

warnings: no outbreak!joel, famous!joel, current day!joel, using characters for other roles, female!reader, established relationship, dom!joel, anxious(ish)!joel, total fluff, hints to smut, lots of swearing, super cute joel moments, ellie making a grand appearance (as per usual). lmk if i missed anything!

wordcount: 4.7k

a/n: i had to cook with this one chat. no but i had a dream abt this and was like, omg???? i hope you love it as much as i do. AND THANK U SM FOR THE NOTES AND FOLLOWS ILY. remember to reblog, comment, like, and follow for more! xoxo

—

Joel Miller was as famous as they came. Within the last twenty years, he had been one of the most known artists (or you liked to call it, 'cowboys') in the world- most known for his country music and lifestyle. His debut album "Havana and Heartbreak" was released in the early ninetys, and had gone Diamond in the music industry. He won tons of awards (and still does) for his music, such as a grammy award for best album the year he released his debut album, a few AMAs, and a couple PCAs. The most important thing he had won, though, was you.

Joel had met you in a bar in the early 2000s, as he was at his complete high in fame. It started with him buying you a couple of drinks and a few hookups, but eventually turned into you two tying the knot in 2004. You had gone from a quiet, kept-to-yourself, suburbs girl to a centre-of-attention, hollywood, city girl. You weren't a fan of being in the spotlight, but you made sacrifices to be together with your husband outside, in public.

A few years into your marriage, Joel had (somehow) convinced you to be his manager in the industry. You were extremely hesitant at the start, this had meant you had to leave your daytime job and be in charge of so much, the burden was heavy but you definitely didn't want to disappoint him. You had agreed, and it was the second best decision you made in your life (the first marrying him, of course). Now, if anyone has anything to do with Joel, they have to come to you about it first.

Every couple of years, Joel dropped a new album. Times like this were so stressful for you, you had so much planning to do for him. Studio sessions, producer meetups, promos, you name it. Joel was the (pretty, at that) face of his business, and you were the brains. He knew this, so he would try anything and everything to get you to have breaks from the stress whenever he could. From sex in the studio bathrooms, to short trips to the Bahamas, he would treat his girl however she wanted.

Although, that had stopped about a month ago. You had stopped it, despite Joel's pleads not to. All he wanted was for you to be happy and stress-free, but you couldn't control it (unfortunately). Joel's newest album, "Rendezvous on the Riverbanks", had been released. This had meant a tour was upcoming- well, it was upcoming; tonight was the opening night. So much time and effort had gone into this tour, it had just completely drained you.

It had been around ten in the morning now, and you were already at the stadium where Joel was to perform tonight. He had wanted to open in his hometown of Arlington, Texas, and it ended up working itself out. Thankfully, the Dallas Cowboys were playing an away game the night Joel wanted, so you were successfully able to book it for him. You were standing backstage with a headset on, talking to someone apart of the lights team. Joel was standing in the middle of the stage, strumming his guitar to himself, almost silently.

"Alright, uh- dim four, but raise seven by about half." You rose your eyes from your clipboard to look at Joel on stage. The lights changed and he was now illuminated perfectly. A small 'perfect' escaped your lips as you pushed one side of the headset off your ears. "We're gonna keep this lighting, Joel." You called out to him.

He had turned his head over, almost snapping out of a trance. "Fine with me, baby." He had replied with a small smile upon his face. You couldn't help but mimic the smile. Even if Joel was blinded by the light, he would agree with you and say it was fine. If you were happy, so was he. As much as you had wanted to stand here all day and admire your beautiful man, many things had to get done before tonight.

For the next hour or so, you had played around with the microphone. Joel had absolutely hated the microphone attached to his earpiece, so he opted to use a good ol' fashion microphone and stand. One of the microphone tech's, Riley (you thought her name was), was helping fix Joel's microphone. "Just a little lower, darlin'." He had told the girl, standing with his back slouched.

You still stood from the sidelines, headset and board now down and off to the side. "You're slouched, Joel. Stand up!" You (jokingly) scolded him. A small laugh had escaped his lips as he flicks his hand at you, standing up completely straight. Now, Riley was properly able to adjust his stand to the correct length. Once she did this, he stepped forward and muttered a 'one, two, three, check' into the microphone. He and Riley had glanced over to you, getting your final opinion on it. "Sounds great to me, definitely the right height."

Riley's job was done, so this caused her to exit the stage to the opposite side of you. This had left just you and Joel out now (and of course the tens of others of workers scattered around the building). You had walked out to where your husband stood, leaving every piece of equipment you had out to the side for a moment. He had turned to face you just before you pulled him in for a kiss, followed by a tight hug.

"I’m proud o' ya'." Joel had muttered to you, barely loud enough for you to hear. He had stroked the back of your head as your head was tucked into the crook of his neck. "When all o' this is done, we'll take a long trip to wherever ya' wanna go." He had reminded you, still stroking your head.

You had brought your head up for a minute, bringing your hand to cup his right cheek. You met his bright eyes, he was yearning for you. "Anywhere you wanna go, I'll follow you." This had sent Joel smashing his lips to yours, practically off in his pants from just hearing you say that. His free hand had snaked its way around your waist to keep you in place. You did not back away, in fact, you brought your tongue eagerly to the entrance of Joel's mouth. He fought back for dominance, but before either one of you won, your name was being called on the speaker system. This caused a sigh from you, as you had (sadly) pulled back from your husband's lips.

"We can never get a moment of fuckin' silence, can we?" You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear as you shake your head and tsk. This earned a chuckle to escape from Joel’s lips, “Later we will, don’t ya’ worry, sweetheart.”

You brought your lips to his cheek in a quick fashion, pecking the soft skin before turning to walk away. As always, Joel had rose his hand and slapped the bottom of your ass as you walked away. If it were in any other circumstance, you would get pissed at Joel and would've told him to act professional. But, right now, who were you to mind? All you wanted was your husband's hands on you one last time right now, and he just granted that wish.

A golf cart had already been down the steps and waiting for you. You had quickly gotten your clipboard and headset before wasting no more time and getting onto the back, allowing the driver to move. You had found out that the opening act, Abby and the Outlaws, had arrived. Since Joel wasn't able to leave his set prep just yet, you had to go and greet the guests.

After a few minutes, the golf cart had rolled up and stopped in front of the suites. You got out of the back and panned the driver a small 'thank you' before knocking on the second door. You clutched your clipboard in hand, the headset finding its way back to around your neck. After longer than you had hoped, the door had finally opened after what felt like hours. A smile rose to your face a bit quicker than anticipated, with your hand pushed out for a handshake. "Abby and the Outlaws?"

The tall man smiled and nodded his head, "God'damn right we are." He brought his rough hand into yours, shaking it up and down two or three times. He had called the rest of his group over, a tall and blonde girl followed by an even taller and brunette man. The person who had opened the door introduced himself as Owen, the girl as Abby (if it weren't quite obvious), and the brunette by Manny.

"It's great to meet you guys, your music is great!" You had shaken each of their hands, of course still beaming from this encounter (it wasn't fake like before, these people seemed genuine). "I'm sure someone has already gone over everything- this isn't everyone's first rodeo I'm assuming?" You eyed around at the three, the blonde sitting on a nearby chair.

"It definitely ain't." Manny had told you, which had earned a nod from your end. "Figured as much-" You paused, reaching into your back pocket."-Here. This is a map of the entire place, we've reserved you this area for you from three upwards until six. Everything'o yours is already set up, ya' just gotta show up." A small laugh had escaped your lips after pointing to the map. They followed suit with a small chuckle, understanding what you had said.

"Got it. We'll head up in a bit- thank you." The woman, Abby, had stated. With one last smile, and a 'radio me if there's any issues' comment, you were off again. They seemed to have settled right in, plus, people would be coming to assist them shortly, so you were pleased everything was under control. Now, it was time to go find your husband once again.

You had called him about three times before he had answered. Usually, you wouldn't do that because you knew he was busy, but you had to find him. You had answered with many quickened apologizes, but he hadn't minded (he loved to hear your voice, even on the phone). You two chatted for a minute or two before deciding on a place to meet. As soon as you hung up you heard the faint music (you were far away from the open arena) pick up again and finish whatever song the man had been playing.

It took you around ten minutes to trail to the complete other side of the arena in a quick fashion. You were extremely out of breath when you had arrived, this hadn't to have been attractive you thought to yourself. After the weaving in and out of hallways, you had finally landed on the door your husband stood behind of. There was a man you hadn't recognized standing in front, definitely security from the venue- of some sort.

You passed him a small smile, an 'excuse me.' leaving your mouth as you tried to swerve past him. He followed your swerve, shaking his head. "Nobody's allowed in, manager's rules." He had stated to you, which just made you stare blankly at him. You were Joel's manager. You brought your hand up, showing the guard your (extremely) flashy engagement and wedding bands. "I'd like to see my husband, is that such a big deal?"

His face had dropped as he realized who you were. This had only caused you to laugh, it was almost ridiculous. The boy had almost fallen over as he moved to the side. "Sorry, Mrs. Miller." He looked down in shame as you just patted your shoulders, moving past him and into the room. Your husband turned over, a coors in hand. He smiled once he realized who was standing in front of him. You could only smile back as you approached the man you had loved. He brought you into his embrace with an immediate arm over your shoulders, and a peck to the forehead.

"You're good to leave, Tommy." He had stated, to his personal body guard- and his brother. Yes, that was right. Tommy Miller, Joel's younger brother, was Joel Miller's bodyguard. Tommy was always rough, and getting into trouble when the two were young. When Joel had rose to fame, he figured why not give his brother the chance to rough someone up every once and awhile- while getting paid to do so.

Tommy had nodded his head, a small 'hello' to you as he slipped our of the room and waited outside for Joel. "Took ya' a while to make your way up here, darlin'." Joel had said as he maneuvered the two of you over to the extremely uncomfortable couch in the corner of the room. As he sat first, he brought you over his lap. "Hey, I can only run so fast- and it doesn't help when you've lost your all entrance pass." You slightly chuckle as you wrap your arms around his neck. "We'll get ya' another before tonight, don'tcha worry."

Joel's hands had moved from your waist, slowly up your shirt. His lips were now latched onto your neck, which caused a small moan to escape your lips. "Not in here, baby." You had brought your hands up to his hair, your hands running through. Joel had only hummed in response, not really caring if anyone had heard the two of you. Everyone knew you were his- but, maybe they needed a reminder.

Remember earlier, it was said that Joel Miller would do anything and everything for you to lower your stress levels- including having sex with you wherever the two of you were? Well, this was one of those cases. He wanted everyone to know who you were - You were Mrs. Miller.

It was a while later, about an hour until Joel had to go on stage. Right now, fans were going absolutely feral for Abby and the Outlaws. You and Joel were waiting backstage together, having a few drinks. Being with you had helped Joel a great deal, he was able to let loose and stay calm before he went on stage. Even though he had been doing this for years and years, the anxious vibes were radiating off of the man for the last while.

You had changed into a nice, black minidress from your basic tee and jeans. You liked getting dressed up for the occasion once in a while. Unlike Joel, who always seemed to be in his nice pair of jeans and a flannel (his signature look), you didn't mind it at all. Joel sure as hell didn't mind you getting dressed up every once in a while, he wanted you to wear short dresses more often- but it was just too uncomfortable for you, unfortunately.

Out of the small silence you two had maintained for a while (the only "words" were Joel's hands resting on top of your thigh), it was completely broken when a loud voice came echoing through the walls. You knew who this was. Before the name could even pop up in your head, the door had bursted open "Joel!"

The familiar brunette head had launched forward at him, this completely took him back and he rose from his seat- just in time to catch her. "Hey, kid." He had only laughed, ruffling her hair. It feels like too long since you've seen Ellie. Life must be hard as a sixteen year old, and your dad an international superstar, you had thought to yourself.

"Hey, Elles." You had beamed at the girl, pulling her into a tight hug once she was done with Joel. Even though the two of you weren't related, you were extremely close (well, when she had decided not to be a moody teenager). You and Joel had decided to take Ellie in when one of your family friend's had passed away, as a newborn. You had adopted Ellie not long after, and had considered her your own daughter.

The three of you had sat down and talked for a while, Ellie going into detail about the book she was creating for her finals project- some joke book of sorts, as per usual. Time had flown when you were spending time with the people you loved. Before you knew it, people were coming up to collect your husband.

"Aw, fuck! Just another five minutes- I'm sure these lovely Texans won't mind, Joel'ly boy-" Joel shook his head, helping you up from the seat. "There's a seat front row reserved for ya', now be a good girl'n go sit." He had told Ellie so casually. All she did was groan, letting a 'fine' escape her lips and exiting the room before any of the rest of you (she knew she wouldn't get far if she fought Joel on this). It was almost like Ellie was complaining on sitting front row at a sold out venue, with eighty thousand other people dying for the seats she got given to her.

You had tsked, followed with a quick laugh. Joel placed one of his hands on the bottom of your back, guiding you out of the room. His hand removed from your back once you were in a nice and big hallway, linking his fingers between yours. You could feel the nervous energy from him more than he thought.

"This ain't your first rodeo, baby. You'll knock their cowboy hats off." You made the remark to Joel, the two of you were getting closer and closer to the crowd of people. He could only squeeze your hand and give you a peck on the forehead. He knew everything would be fine, but the thought was always in the back of his head. "I'll be fine, sweetheart. You, on the other hand- ya'gotta worry 'bout not throwin' yourself all on me out there."

There was the man you recognized, the prideful and charismatic cowboy. "I'll hold myself back until you're done, I suppose." You made the small remark, pulling his arm as you sped up. "The time's cutting close- we're walking too slow." Your arm was almost painfully yanked back (he didn't mean to, Joel was too in the moment right now). "Show ain't startin' without me, now is it?"

You had turned to face your man, your Joel. The paparazzi pictures didn't do him justice, he was so much hotter in person. Your eyes had went from scattering to everything around, to focusing on the big, brown eyes in front of you. You had inched your face just a tad bit closer, enough for Joel to hear the hitch in your breath when you spoke to him. "It ain't."

He could only smirk at your words, wanting to do so much more but there was no time. His hand found its way to the back of your neck as he pulled you into a kiss. You, of course, complied, leaning in and fighting for dominance (just like earlier). This came to an end when you heard Joel's name being called from somewhere behind the two of you - his face fell from in front of yours. "We'll finish this after, yeah?"

You could only nod, a small smile rising to your face. You didn't have to worry about it not happening, Joel would make any and every time slot available for you. Your hands were still connected with one another, so you had continued to walk with Joel as he approached the stage. You two had went into a makeshift cover, so nobody would see him approaching (they would go even more feral).

As the lights in the stadium started to dim, indicating he was about to step out on stage, the crowd went insane. Your hand left his, and moved to cup his cheek. He was staring out into the crowd, but you brought his focus down to you. "Go kill 'em, cowboy."

Joel's expression went from unsure, to confident in a blink of an eye. He had nodded his head, "Ya' got it, princess." Joel's guitar tech, Dina (you think it was), had brought his guitar over. You barely played any instrument, but god this guitar was gorgeous. Joel had scored a nice deal with Fender a year or two ago and made a nice custom guitar with his collab. Joel had slung the guitar strap over his shoulder, strumming the strings to make sure everything was in tune (it was, that's why Dina was here, this was just a superstition he had).

The man in front of you had turned around, facing the stage. He was as ready as he could ever be- so were you. Everyone apart of the Joel Miller team around you seemed to be having a heart attack, just because of the stress and everything leading up to this moment, though. You could hear, clear as day, an inhale and exhale from Joel's mouth, before he walked out on that stage.

Everyone around had went silent, except the crowd. It was even louder than before, which you didn't think was possible. Soon enough, you heard (barely, through the crowd) Joel's voice throughout the stadium. He had started with the first song on his setlist, 'Wyoming' - a definite personal favourite. You were so proud of him, and hoped he knew. He put so much, if not more, work into this than anyone else had, so he deserved to have the best time. Your cowboy deserved the world and more.

It was near the end of the show, the setlist of forty-something songs had gone by quick. Everyone (especially you, with a few drinks in your system) had let loose, and were having a great time. Joel was definitely having the most fun, almost completely sober too. He finished strumming his guitar to the second last song, before the crowd erupted into cheers and claps. Honestly, other than venues like this, you had never seen so much country folk. If there was one thing country folk could agree on, it was music.

"Alright, now. Before the las' song o' the night-" Joel was cut off by a bunch of disappointed people booing (the only time booing was understandable). He had laughed, swatting his hand around. "I know, I know. But, before it all comes t'an end, I gotta introduce someone to y'all." Gasps and excited screams were heard from all around.

Joel had turned his head to search for you beside the stage, his eyes panning everyone- until he met your gaze. It was hard to determine if it were you for a split second, just because the lights out in the open were extremely blinding. "Now, some'o y'all might just know 'bout this, might just know who this is," He brought his hand up, signalling for you to come out.

You only shook your head, you couldn't believe he was doing this. "Hey, uh-" you turned to some random crew member around, "-can you hold my drink? Thanks." Before a response was given, you handed it over and moved your way over to the stage entrance. You could only brace yourself for what was about to happen to you. "Come on out, little lady."

The lights were very blinding, he was so right. You had also went temporarily deaf from everyone screaming their hearts out at you. You didn't realize you were such a hot commodity around these places. If the screams weren't loud from when you walked out, they sure as hell were loud when Joel pulled you into a kiss. It was actually insane- you couldn't believe it. Your mind was racing, both from the anxiety and the thrill.

You turned now, to face the crowd. Joel's arm fell around your shoulder as you grabbed the microphone stand and adjusted it to your height. "So many beautiful faces 'round this crowd." There were a few girls dead centre in the front who were screaming and crying, waving up to you. Your heart completely melted, you wished you could just jump down and embrace them.

"Now," Joel had started as the crowd hushed, dropping his head to be able to reach the top of the microphone, "Ain't nobody go gawkin' at her, ya' can't have her." This caused an in-sync laugh to escape both yours and Joel's lips. He had found his way to the necklace dangling just above your chest, playing with it between his thumb and index finger (from the arm that was wrapped around your neck).

"Jokes aside, now, this little lady's gonna help with the closer." The nickname, you swore it did something to you. You had brought your head up, mouth right beside Joel's ear. "Ya' know I can't play for the life of me, Joel." He could only smirk at this comment, he was nowhere near trying to embarass you with this- he only wanted you to live it up, just like he was.

Joel ignored your comment and brought his head down to the mic once again, "She said she cannot wait to play!" This was in fact not what you had said, so this earned a slap on Joel's chest from you. He had removed his arm from around you, now standing straight on. He took his guitar off from around him, and slid the strap over your head. You couldn't help but smile at Joel, despite the fake-angry look you tried to maintain.

"Ya' got the rhythm'n chords down, don't worry." Joel had reminded you, his love language most definitely being words of affirmation. Before he had started to adjust the strap so the guitar sit perfectly on you, you slid the hair elastic he had always kept for you off of his wrist, and started to tie your hair back and out of your face. A few people who were close up noticed this, and blew a few whistles over to the two of you.

"I'll count us in, 'kay?" He hummed, and you nodded. Your eyes slid up the neck of the guitar as you stepped up with Joel, beside the microphone now. Joel's 'Cowboy' was the closing song, definitely the fan favourite from all his music throughout the years. You knew this song like the back of your hand, even without practice, you'd be fine.

Whenever he had counted himself in, it was three foot taps. He knew that you knew this. The entire stadium was silent, waiting to hear the last song choice.

One. Your eyes quickly fell down to the man's boots. His Black Jack Caiman Crocodile heels tapped the wooden floor. Joel's hands started to creep up the stand, his grip tightening once it hit the microphone.

Two. Your fingers from your right hand fell over the corresponding spots to be able to play the song. Your left hand found its way down to the middle of the guitar, ready to strum away.

Three. Joel inhaled, you inhaled, you both exhaled in sync. It was now or never, in front of eighty thousand people, streamed for the entire world to hear.

Luckily it wasn't just you playing, the backtrack was also able to be heard in unity with you playing and Joel singing. You were far too concentrated at multitasking (with the chords and the strumming) to hear Joel singing, or the crowd cheering for you, or even your own thoughts. But, before you knew it, you strummed your last beat.

An exhale left your lips rather quickly, as if you were holding it in the entire time. You just looked to Joel, and he looked back at you. Both of you had drowned out the sounds of screaming coming from every single nook and cranny of the arena from around you.

You wanted nothing more then to spend your nights just like this, with Joel, with your cowboy - and in everything he had loved, you were in the centre of it. He didn't want it any other way, he wanted to spend every breathing moment of his life with you, even if it was in front of the entire world to see. You were his partner in crime, you were his cowgirl.

—

opening night, scowl

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cemeterything · 1 year

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So, I really like body horror and horror in general, but I’m also physically and mentally disabled, and I tend to notice a lotta ableist/eugenicist folk flocking to the horror genre. Do you notice that too? Or am I just like, paranoid?

Also, do you have any suggestions for horror movies (especially body horror ones) that AREN’T oozing with Hollywood flavoured ableism? Would really appreciate it bc I’ve been getting so dispassionate about the genre lately thanks to certain kinds of fans.

i don't think you're paranoid, there are definitely people who engage with horror in ways that can have ableist implications and be very upsetting if you actually experience those reactions to your own conditions in real life, because for you it's not just fiction, it's your lived experience. the line between horror and ableism (and other forms of bigotry, like homophobia, transphobia, racism, etc.) can be a very fine one, and it's important for people who enjoy horror to be self aware and willing to listen. and at the same time, there are disabled people (and queer people, and people of color, and people from all kinds of marginalized groups) who find comfort and empowerment in horror and reclaim and make use of it to express their lived experiences. a lot of horror fans are disabled. i'm one of them, you're one of them, and i know there are more than a few on this site and in the world at large, enough to form communities. i'm friends with some of them. it's a complex issue.

the way i see it, you can't control your instinctive reactions to seeing something you're not used to or expecting, which horror often uses to its advantage to shock a response out of you, sometimes with ableist implications. you can, however, become more comfortable through exposure and learn to think critically about and control how you respond outwardly, especially if you're prepared to have those experiences, which in choosing to engage with horror you probably are unless you're being tricked or forced into it. so if you're a horror fan and want to avoid (or minimize) being ableist, take care not to let portrayals of mental and physical disabilities in fiction create misconceptions of what those conditions are actually like in real life. it's horror; it's not usually intended to be an accurate or flattering depiction (and even horror that DOES portray disabilities respectfully will still likely reflect experiences specific to the creator that aren't entirely accurate to actually living with them, because nobody's experiences are completely universal, and it's fiction). use it as an opportunity to learn more. do research, or talk to people if you have anyone willing to share their experiences with you. unpack your fear and sit with it and examine it. try to understand it so you can control it instead of letting it control you. thought crimes aren't real and don't harm anyone, but how you outwardly express yourself is something you can change and improve if you become aware of any issues. horror can help dig up those issues and get you to confront and consider them, and that's worth making use of.

that last part is directed more at horror fans who aren't disabled, but i included it because i hope it might be helpful in making you feel more comfortable and secure that there are ways to engage with horror without being ableist about it, and people who do so. unfortunately i don't have any recommendations because i think that horror is very personal and my ideas of what does or doesn't make good horror might be completely different from yours, so i'm unsure i could provide you with what you're looking for. i hope this was helpful to hear, though.

#horror #ableism

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allthingsfangirl101 · 3 months

Text

The Good Samaritan – Joe Keery

Joe's POV

Walking through downtown Hollywood, I couldn't get rid of this feeling in my gut. I've felt like my life was a little too predictable the past few months. Nothing new happened. I'd wake up, go to work, run through my scenes, head home, and do nothing. I felt like I was missing something, but I couldn't figure it out.

I walked into my favorite coffee shop, smiled and waved to my fans as I headed to the counter. I ordered my usual and sat at a table by the window. I spent twenty minutes slowly drinking my coffee.

I was just about to leave, but something outside caught my eye. At the corner of the street, a beautiful woman was waiting for the light to change. She was scrolling through her phone as she nodded to the music playing through her headphones. Something about her made it so I couldn't look away.

She was the kind of girl who could easily make my life heaven or destroy my heart. And, honestly, I was fine with either. I silently prayed for the light to stay red.

I sat up straighter, my stomach clenching when I saw a guy approach her. My grip on my coffee mug tightened as I watched their interaction. It was clear that he was into her. It was even clearer that she was not into him.

The longer he tried to talk to her, the more I got out of my seat. When it looked like he was starting to get angry, I officially got out of my seat and left the coffee shop.

"Look," the girl was saying as I walked out of the shop, "I'm honored but I'm not the type of girl who goes out with the random guy I meet on the street."

"Come on, baby," he tried to say in a sexy voice but it came off creepy. My stomach dropped when the girl took a step away from this guy.

"Is everything alright over here?" I asked, forcing myself into their conversation.

"We're fine," the guy said through a clenched jaw.

"Are you okay?" I asked the girl, completely ignoring the guy.

"I'm fine," she said softly. I turned toward the stranger, instantly glaring.

"She clearly isn't interested in you," I said as calmly as I could. "You can go now."

The guy scoffed in response. "This doesn't concern you, man."

"When a guy is harassing a woman, it is the concern of a bystander who sees how uncomfortable she is." I glanced over at the girl to see her smiling softly at me. "Are you comfortable?" I asked the woman.

She looked between me and the stranger. I watched as she opened and closed her mouth, struggling to admit it. I sent her a smile before glaring at the guy.

"Why don't you go find some girl that wants your attention," I warned.

"This doesn't concern you," the guy snapped. "If I want to talk to this chick, I will."

"This chick doesn't seem like she wants your attention." I cringed just calling her that. I cleared my throat and added, "Walk away before I make you."

"Make me?" The guy laughed. "And what are you going to do if I don't leave this sexy chick. . . "

I heard her gasp as I punched the guy. He instantly fell to the ground as I shook out my hand.

"I said she isn't interested," I said under my breath as I forced myself to calm down. "Now, walk away before I get angrier."

I stood my ground until the asshole walked away holding his nose. The second he was gone, I quickly turned toward the girl.

"Are you alright?" I asked, changing my tone as I took a hesitant step toward her.

"I'm fine," she said shakily. "Thank you."

"Of course," I said. As the adrenaline wore off, the nerves surfaced.

"You didn't have to do that," she said, her voice still soft.

"I couldn't just stand by as the guy harassed you," I shrugged. I cleared my throat, not sure what else to say but knowing I didn't want the conversation to end. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine," she repeated. "Really. I'm. . ."

We both gasped when it started to rain. Without thinking, I grabbed her hand and led her into the coffee shop. I turned toward her, my heart jumping into my throat when I saw her smiling and laughing.

"Let me buy you a coffee or something," I offered. "I'm Joe."

"I'm Y/N, and you really don't have to do that," she said, a blush forming on her face.

It suddenly hit me that she may think I was acting like the guy outside. I cleared my throat and tried to get rid of the lump that thought created.

"I didn't mean to. . . I was just trying. . . I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she said, sweetly. She thought about it for a second before adding, "By the way, I didn't get the same feeling from you that I got from that guy."

"What do you mean?" I couldn't help but ask.

"That guy was a creep," Y/N said with a small laugh. "But you? I wouldn't mind getting hit on by you."

"Really?" I cleared my throat at how pathetic that sounded. I wiped my suddenly clammy hands on my pants.

"Really," she smirked at me, causing my clammy hands to get clammier. "Why don't you buy me that coffee you offered earlier and we can get to know each other while you hit on me and I hit on you back?"

I stood there stunned as she walked up to the counter. When she got there, she turned around and smirked at me. I cleared my throat and quickly walked over to her.

"What can I get started for you two?" The girl behind the cash register asked.

Y/N glanced at me, but I gestured for her to go ahead and order. As she did, my mind went crazy. I couldn't believe that I was doing this. She ordered her drink and I ordered mine. We walked to a table, an awkward tension between us.

"Thanks again," Y/N said, breaking the silence. "For stopping that guy. He just wouldn't leave me alone. I can't believe you stepped in like that."

Before I could respond, our order was called. I sent her a soft smile before getting up and going to the counter. I grabbed our drinks and went back to the table. I handed her's to her before sitting down.

"About earlier," I continued our previous conversation. "It really wasn't a big deal. I saw the guy harassing you and intervened."

"It was a big deal," she said, still smiling at me. "Thank you, Joe."

"No problem," I said, unable to stop my smile.

We spent the rest of the rainy afternoon drinking our coffees and talking about our lives. An hour later, Y/N's phone started ringing.

"I'm sorry," she sighed before excusing herself. I couldn't help but watch her walk away. For some reason, I couldn't take my eyes off of her. I forced myself to when she looked at me. I kept my eyes off her as she walked back to the table.

"Everything okay?" I asked as she sat down.

"Yeah," she said, clearing her throat. "Sorry. It's work."

"Do you need to go?" I asked, my stomach dropping.

"It was easily handled over the phone." She paused before adding, "Besides, I didn't want to cut this short."

"We could continue it," I blurted out.

"What did you have in mind?"

"Maybe we could go to dinner tonight?" I asked. "As an official date."

"Official?" She teased. "Then what was this?

"A pre-date?"

I felt weird when Y/N laughed. "Like a warm-up?" She chuckled.

"I was thinking more of a meet-and-greet."

"Well, this has been a wonderful meet-and-greet," she laughed. "I look forward to our official date."

"6 o'clock work for you?" I asked.

"That's perfect."

#joe keery #joe keery x reader #joe keery imagines #stranger things #free guy #joe #keery #fanfic #Joe Keery #joe keery POV

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pricelessemotion · 1 year

Text

Starstruck and Metal | E.M.

Summary: [4.3k] you meet eddie for the first time. it doesn't go quite like you expected.

Pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!music journalist!reader

Warnings: none!

Notes: huge thank u to my bestie chuck for beta reading 🫶 also if you solve the crossword hint i love u

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InStereo magazine was not The Rolling Stones, but it was a start. The modest music magazine had a humble following, enough to earn some hums of recognition whenever someone made the mistake of asking what you did for a living. Most days, it’s great. You relish in the joy of working in a field some people only dream of entering. The leap from column writer to main article was a large one, but you insisted that you were ready. Your first assignment as a music journalist and of course you got stuck with Eddie fucking Munson.

Any self-respecting music journalist, anyone with some skin in the game would have laughed in the face of their editor. But instead, you smiled. You nodded enthusiastically, mimicking the bobblehead that has since been removed from your desk. When you decided to become a music journalist, you wanted to write about people who were changing the field. Instead, you were being tasked with writing some puff piece being used to save a wannabe rock star’s reputation. God forbid you gain the reputation of being a difficult woman–in a male-dominated industry no less–by turning down such a great opportunity.

Even if that opportunity included spending a day with Eddie fucking Munson.

You paid out of pocket for the cassette of Corroded Coffin’s debut album that was currently underscoring your drive to West Hollywood. You refused to meet the frontman without having listened to their music beforehand. They were good. A little rough around the edges, but it was to be expected. Outside of the occasional headlines, you hadn’t heard much about Eddie or his band. Corroded Coffin was making ripples, not waves. Of course, no one really cared about the music when they could be reading about who and what their lead vocalist was doing.

Still, you find yourself parking outside of a humble ranch-style home in a neighborhood full of similar housing that likely cost a fortune to live in. The modest proceeds from Corroded Coffin’s tour have obviously paid off, considering that nice area and affordable don’t usually exist in the same sentence when talking about LA housing. The June sun is beating down on the empty street, and you’re thankful that you decided to wear a T-shirt and jeans. You tell yourself that the sweat collecting on your brow is from the heat and not nerves.

Double-checking that you have the right address, you slam the door shut on your sedan and take a deep breath. The air feels cleaner here, less smoggy. You’re not sure if it’s because of the altitude or the tax bracket of the people who live here. Probably both. You reach into your purse and feel around for what you already know is inside. Pen. Notepad. Tape recorder. The holy trinity for a music journalist.

There were very few topics that Eddie wasn’t willing to talk about. You guess that when you’ve had your insides strewn across the pavement for everyone to see, you don’t bother trying to uphold any semblance of mystique. Beginning the daunting trek toward your assignment, you remind yourself of two things:

1) Don’t ask about his father

2) Don’t ask about what happened in Hawkins, Indiana in 1986

The first rule seemed simple enough. As far as the public was concerned, Eddie Munson came to Hawkins at the age of 12 to live with his Uncle Wayne like how a fully formed Venus sprang up from sea foam. He wasn’t and then he was. End of story. The fact that Eddie’s management went out of the way to make sure his father wasn’t brought up only made you more curious.

The second rule was a little harder to accept. Anyone who knew anything about Eddie Munson wanted to know about 1986. Despite the fact that his highly publicized murder charges and subsequent exoneration are part of what caused Corroded Coffin to skyrocket to fame, he’s remained very tight-lipped about the whole situation. He plays off every question about it in interviews with a smirk and a sly comment. Just charming enough to get away without answering. Just vague enough to keep people guessing. Maybe his publicist wasn’t such a waste after all.

Eddie Munson opens the door a few moments after you ring the bell. Using a ringed hand to shield his eyes from the midday sun, he squints at you. A pair of sweatpants hang low on his hips. He has a severe case of bedhead despite the fact that the time on your watch indicates that it’s nearly two in the afternoon. The confusion that draws his brows together also indicates that he has absolutely no idea who you are. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you state your name and purpose before realization graces his features.

“It’s you! Shit, yeah! You’re here for the– the thing!” He tosses a careless look over both of his shoulders before widening the opening. “Come on in.”

Eddie closes the door behind you and rushes down the hallway in order to put some real clothes on, leaving you standing in the empty living room. The inside is surprisingly clean for someone who’s gained the reputation of being a hot mess. It smells like cigarettes, weed, and lemon pledge. The lemon scent is strongest as if someone was trying–and failing–to use it to cover up the previous two. A record player is tucked into a corner, the vinyl still spinning. A line of electric guitars is propped up against the back wall, each of them no doubt costing more than your monthly rent. One of the stands is noticeably empty and you glance to your left to see a beat-up acoustic resting on the couch. On the coffee table, there are piles and piles of scrap sheets of paper. For most of them, the handwriting is too illegible to read or it’s been crossed out. Eddie seems to write lyrics like he lives his life: fast and all over the place.

Stepping closer, something along the upper corner catches your eye. Slyly lifting up a pile of paper, being sure not to disturb the configuration, you find that your suspicions are correct. Eddie received the same copy of Sub Rosa as you did. Obviously, it didn’t go over well. He’s used a pen to black out his eyes. Much to your amusement, you see he’s also drawn horns and a tail. The hand that’s flipping off the camera is illustrated to be holding a pitchfork.

That’s not the full extent of Eddie’s doodling, though. On the bottom right-hand corner of the magazine, there’s a smaller picture of him standing next to a certain brown-eyed beauty. You’re quick to note that he’s drawn a crude halo and angel wings on his long-legged companion. They’ve been scribbled out as an afterthought, making the halo look more like a crown of thorns.

So, you think to yourself, he’s a little immature. You can work with immaturity. Immaturity means that he won’t be as guarded as some of the other celebrities your coworkers have had the misery of meeting. In fact, from what little you know about Eddie, you wonder if he even has any guard at all. He did leave you alone here with stacks of potential songs for his band’s next album. If you were a better journalist and a worse person, you would probably take the time to decipher his chicken scratch and see if you could glean any insights into his creative process. But you don’t. Instead, you release the stack of papers and wait.

For a moment, you don’t know what to do with yourself. You’ve never been inside of a famous person’s house before. You’re not sure if you should sit down and make yourself comfortable or if Eddie has something else planned for the two of you to do. The specifics of your assignment were intentionally vague, most likely to accommodate Eddie’s spontaneity.

Venturing further into the living room, you come to stand in front of a shelf. Brushing your fingers across the collection of vinyl, you tilt your head to read the names along the spines. There are the usual suspects–Dio, Metallica, and Judas Priest–but what surprises you is that, in the midst of all the metal and hard rock, there’s an array of old-school country music. At the end of the lineup is the most surprising one of them all; Sentimentally Yours by Patsy Cline. It’s exceedingly worn, cracks and creases litter the empty sleeve. If you were a betting woman, you would say that the record is currently on the player across the room.

A muffled crash followed by a string of curse words breaks you out of your reverie. Eddie opens the bedroom door with the finesse of someone who is obviously used to being the center of attention. He’s traded his sweatpants and tank top for a pair of ripped black jeans and a v-neck. It felt reassuring to know that you hadn’t underdressed for the occasion.

It also gives you a moment to drink in the blinding light that was Eddie Munson. He’s leaner in person. Though he always looked lithe in every photograph you saw of him, his frame seemed more imposing and large. Maybe all the stars just look that way when they’re so high above you.

He was taller, too. The boots on his feet surely aided in that, given that the soles were at least an inch thick. Still, you didn’t anticipate how much you would have to tilt your head up just to look him in the eyes.

There, standing in Eddie Munson’s rented living room, you realize something; You’re absolutely starstruck.

Although you had turned up your nose at the prospect of interviewing him and regarded his reputation with the same disdain you reserved for bad drivers and shitty landlords, you were still a person after all.

With all of the stars around, it’s easy to think of Los Angeles as the center of the universe. But you are not a star or anything even close to it. You’re some space debris, hopelessly floating and waiting for something bigger to come around and influence you with its gravitational pull.

Eddie is a heavenly body. You can’t help being pulled into his orbit.

“So, I see you’ve found my collection.” His voice is still rough with sleep. The sound makes you weak in the knees.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to snoop.” You mumble, tucking Patsy Cline back into the shelf. “You’ve got some really good stuff here.”

“Don’t worry about it. Actually, that reminds me, I have something for you.” He swiftly turns and stalks back towards what seems to be his bedroom, motioning for you to follow him.

The blood rushes out of your cheeks. The terms of your interview suggested that you would have a lot of access, but this was different. This was up close and personal. Your feet seem to have a mind of their own because while you’re still wrapped up in the fact that you’re gonna see Eddie Munson’s bedroom, you’re already following him down the hallway and through the open door.

It’s about as messy as you would expect. The furniture is all pale wood and earth tones, fitting the mid-century modern stylings of the rest of the house. You suspect that Eddie took the time to clean up a little while you were rifling through the stacks of paper. The bed is haphazardly made. There’s an ashtray on his bedside table, filled with the remains of a few cigarettes.

“I’m not supposed to smoke inside. Shh.” He brings his index finger to his mouth, pink lips barely brushing the skull ring he’s wearing. “Don’t tell anyone.”

You let out an airy laugh. Being reprimanded for smoking inside is the least of Eddie’s worries and you both know it.

Eddie’s nimble fingers skim the top of the dresser, brushing aside even more sheets of scrap paper. A couple of guitar picks plummet to the floor, but he pays no mind.

“I heard that metal isn’t usually your thing.” He remarks, still sifting through the clutter.

That much is true. While you dabbled in a little bit of everything, not only as part of your job but also as part of your interest in music, metal wasn’t usually the genre you gravitated towards. In fact, the most metal album that you had listened to recently was written and produced by the man standing in front of you.

“It’s not, but I’m open to everything.”

“Aha! Here it is.” Eddie holds up the cassette like it’s the key to the universe. Handing it to you, you can see that the writing on the sides is reminiscent of what you saw in the living room, though slightly neater. You’re familiar with some of the bands listed, but the songs don’t ring a bell. “I thought I would broaden your musical horizons.”

You gawk at him. For someone whose job is about words, you can’t find any. He took the time to make you a mixtape?

“Track five is a personal favorite.” Eddie says, leaning towards you and tapping the tracklist, obviously unshaken by your inability to form a coherent thought.

“Thanks. I’ll give it a listen.” You manage to choke out, tucking the cassette into the front pocket of your purse.

Looking around the room, you see that there’s a battered copy of The Lord of the Rings on his bedside table. The corners are frayed, and you’re certain that you could accidentally tear the cover off of the paperback if you’re not careful. Cautiously, you trace the spine with your finger, waiting for Eddie to say something. To tell you that it’s the one thing that’s off limits. But he doesn’t. He just stands there, watching you. Opening it, you can see Property of Eddie A. Munson written underneath the title in a childish scrawl.

“You like books? I mean–you’re a writer, so of course you like books–I mean, have you read that one?” Eddie is visibly flustered, the words coming out of his mouth at an alarming rate. It almost makes up for the way he rendered you speechless moments ago.

“I’m more of a Dune girl myself. But, I love The Lord of the Rings. My dad used to read it to me before bed every night.”

“Yeah?” A small smile tugs at his lips before he practically whispers his next words. “Mine too.”

A flash of something you can’t quite decipher crosses Eddie’s face.

“Right! Where are my manners? Would you like something to drink?” He shuffles out of the room like his life depends on it. You’re still reeling at the fact that he brought up his dad unprompted. Keeping a brisk pace, you put the book down and follow him into the kitchen.

“We have…” He trails off, opening the door to the refrigerator. “Nothing.”

He shuts the refrigerator and dashes to the table by the front door. He mumbles to himself before grabbing a few things, shrugging on a jacket, and finally turning to face you again. A pair of sunglasses covers the half of his face that isn’t plastered with a mischievous grin. From the tips of his fingers hangs a set of car keys.

“You hungry?”

–

You should’ve known that Eddie Munson would try to kill you within 20 minutes of meeting him. Lifting up the garage door, he reveals that the car keys were in fact, not car keys but keys to a motorcycle. The vehicle in question is an absolutely stunning deathtrap. It shines so beautifully that you can see your terrified face in the warped reflection.

Putting his helmet on, Eddie straddles the bike and looks at you.

“C’mon.” Eddie smiles wolfishly, tilting the spare helmet towards you. “I’m a safe driver. Promise.”

You’re still standing frozen. His wolfish grin melts into something more patient.

“Hey, if you don’t want to take the motorcycle, just say the word. I’m not gonna make you do anything you don’t wanna do.”

Despite the sincerity in his voice, you can’t help but take the words as a challenge.

“No, it’s fine. I’m fine.” You profess, though the shake in your voice is evident. Grabbing the helmet out of his hands, you ignore the way your face heats up when your fingers brush.

Eddie takes gross advantage of California’s lane-splitting laws, leaving you clinging to his leather-draped torso for dear life. Outside from the occasional shout of assurance that you can’t understand, the ride is quiet but for the roar of the bike and the wind in your ears. You’re vacillating between being absolutely terrified of crashing and secretly relieved at the fact that you didn’t have to make small talk on the drive from his place to wherever he was taking you.

You were very close to liking Eddie Munson. Now, you were sure that he was sent as some kind of karmic punishment.

“Parking in L.A. is always a pain. That’s why I love this baby,” He gingerly pats the handles as he kicks the parking brake down. “She can fit basically anywhere.”

You hum in agreement, mostly just happy to have made it to your destination in one piece. While Eddie hops off the bike with ease, you have a little more trouble. Swinging your leg over, your toe catches on the fuel tank, causing you to stumble and nearly fall to the ground. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see that Eddie is biting back a smile. He offers a calloused hand out to you. You brush it away out of embarrassment, planting both feet firmly on the ground and taking in your surroundings.

You had expected Eddie to take you to one of L.A.’s finer dining venues. Somewhere with fancy mood lighting and clientele with pockets so deep that they don’t even bother to put the prices on the menu. His management was footing the bill, after all.

The building that sits before you is none of those things. The diner is old and slightly dilapidated. Graffiti mars the stucco that hasn’t already crumbled away. The neon sign that says Zazie’s! blinks drowsily, more of an eyesore than eye-catching.

Eddie opens the door for you. As the bell above it jingles, you’re hit with a rush of conditioned air and canned nostalgia. The walls are covered in artifacts from a bygone era of poodle skirts and letterman jackets. A lonely jukebox sits in the corner, playing a soft hum to a Billie Holiday song you have long forgotten the name of.

A plump woman sits behind the counter doing the crossword in the newspaper. Likely, the same one you were doing that morning. A thoughtful look is etched into her soft features, and you wonder if she’s also stuck on 57-down: Idle during the heist. The ten-letter space confounded you so much that you were almost late. Luckily, it doesn’t seem like Eddie is the type of person to care too much about punctuality. At the sound of the bell, she looks up, squints, and smiles.

“Is that you, Toto?” The glasses that sit on the tip of her nose are attached to a chain around her neck. She lets them fall to her chest, her voice bright and amiable.

“You know it is, Dorothy!” Eddie gushed, an award-winning smile back on his face.

They fall into easy conversation, making it obvious that he’s a regular here. You keep glancing at him trying to find hints of ingenuity but there are none. Eddie regards the woman with the warmth and respect that you would expect from a boy scout, not a rockstar.

Sliding into a booth, Dorothy hands you both a menu and leaves to make a fresh pot of coffee.

“You have to try the french toast, it’s divine.” Eddie barely steals a look at the laminated folder before folding it back up and putting it down on the table.

“I’ve never really been a french toast person. I don’t know if I wanna risk it.”

Eddie gives you a pointed look, sunglasses slipping down the slope of his nose. “You rode a motorcycle. How much more risky is a plate of french toast?”

“Maybe that was all the risk-taking I had in me for one day.” You force yourself to shrug noncommittally. You don’t know why breakfast food is the hill you’ve chosen to die on, but you’re going down swinging.

“Well, you already trusted me with your life.” Eddie takes the sunglasses off and tucks his fist under his chin, forcing you to look into his deep brown eyes. “Think you can trust me with this?”

Suddenly, all of the fight in you disappears. There’s that sincerity in his voice again. You realize then that the best and worst thing about Eddie Munson is how genuine he always sounds.

“Yeah, I do.”

The smile on his face is so bright that you feel compelled to look away. Eddie orders for both of you. It’s enough food to feed a small army, but it seems that Dorothy is used to it because she leaves the table with a wink and says if y’all need anything just holler!

“Do you mind?” You say, pulling out the notepad and pen from your purse.

Eddie freezes for a fraction of a second. It’s almost imperceptible. Almost. In the small amount of time you’ve known him, it has become abundantly clear that Eddie wears his heart on his sleeve. Recovering quickly, he gives you the go-ahead and smiles. For the first time today, his grin doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“So,” You begin, clicking the button on your ballpoint. “I have to ask. Toto?”

Eddie barks out a laugh. He goes on a whole spiel about how he was having a terrible day and walked into the diner feeling homesick and hungry. When he first came to L.A. he felt like Dorothy stepping into the technicolor world of Oz. Once the novelty wore off, he found himself missing when the world used to be so black and white. Upon telling the wise waitress, aptly named Dorothy, she lovingly told him, Toto, I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore. The nickname stuck ever since.

The story almost sounds rehearsed. A perfect sound bite that shows how you can take the boy out of the Midwest, but you can’t take the Midwest out of the boy. And yet, you feel inclined to believe him. Eddie just seems to have that effect on people.

The food finally arrives and you’re amazed to find that Eddie’s eyes are not bigger than his stomach. He talks about music and his band in between bites of pancakes and hashbrowns, both of them drowned in an inch of syrup. He speaks of his friends back in Indiana with a certain fondness, but you can’t help but notice how avoids naming his hometown. He also never refers to Hawkins as back home, instead saying where I’m from.

Conversation between the two of you flows as easily as the never-ending coffee from Dorothy’s pot. It’s almost too easy to forget that this is an interview. Remembering yourself, you take a moment to ask Eddie one of the harder-hitting questions you have in your back pocket.

“What about Evelyn Chau?”

Eddie winces. The open book that was sitting before you shuts tight with a resilient slam. The mouthful of pancakes and syrup seems to turn to sludge as his chewing slows. Despite having no regard for table manners earlier, he points at his lips and holds up a finger to indicate that he needs a minute to swallow.

After taking a sip of coffee and wiping his mouth with a paper napkin, he slouches in his seat and crosses his arms defensively.

“What about Evelyn Chau?” He repeats your question back to you but with an unmistakable air of forced nonchalance.

You want to crumble under his pointed gaze, but you don’t. You steel yourself with the reminder that asking uncomfortable questions is part of your job description. Besides, it would raise many more alarms if you didn’t ask about the raven-haired model spotted painting the town with him than if you did.

“Everyone wants to know if you’re together.”

“Everyone.” He exaggerates the word, using his index finger to trace the lip of his coffee cup. “Does that include you?”

The smirk on his face indicates that he’s either messing with you or flirting with you. Maybe both.

“Well,” you demure. “are you?”

“Evie is just a friend.” Eddie’s still perfectly composed, but the familiarity with which he says her nickname betrays him. His face twitches when he catches his slip-up. “A really close friend.”

It’s already too late. He couldn’t convince you that she was just a friend if he tried. A flash of a crossed-out halo and crooked angel wings comes to mind.

You’re about to ask him another question, but Dorothy and her impeccable timing interrupts the moment by placing the check on the table. Eddie throws down a few bills from an old leather wallet, while you’re trying to figure out how you can spin a two-hour diner date into an entire article.

Eddie stretches as he stands up, the hem of his black v-neck raises to expose a tattoo on his right hip that snakes down further than you’re supposed to look. On the other side, you catch a muddled array of purple and red scar tissue. Averting your eyes, you look up and are met with a stony gaze. He caught you staring.

“What do you say we get outta here?”

Because you’re a very stupid, stupid woman, you agree.

likes are appreciated, comments and reblogs are cherished ♥️

taglist: @twisted-wonderland-of-wren

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #mimi wrote ✍️#can i ask you a question?

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hooked-on-elvis · 1 month

Text

ONE NIGHT WITH YOU OF SIN ❤️‍🔥

50s Elvis can't sing something like this!

Well, this is something I just found out. That's why I love listening to Elvis' songs and researching on them. We always can learn interesting things that took place during the recording sessions, which makes EP's songs much, much precious.

I was listening to "Elvis: From the Vaults 50's" album, released as part of the 60-CD set "Elvis Presley: The Album Collection" (2016) — I love the "Elvis: From the Vaults" trilogy to death, by the way — when I crossed something very interesting.

The song "One Night (With You)", that Elvis performed with such passion during the '68 Comeback Special, was recorded by him in the 50s and originally had a slightly different lyrics.

The most known version, the "light" or "family friendly" (per say) version of the chorus of this one song goes like this:

"One night with you is what I'm now praying for."

youtube

The "explicit" version tho, as originally written by Dave Bartholomew and that came to be a R&B hit for Smiley Lewis in 1956, the version of the song Elvis recorded in 1957, actually sounds like this:

"One night of sin is what I'm now paying for."

youtube

I mean, the lyrics is clearly about sex in either words, but why the change in the words actually happened really intrigued me. I, as usually, looked for answers in one of my favorite books, and that's what I'm gonna share with you now.

So, Elvis was recording songs for the '57 Loving You movie soundtrack when the song was recorded. "One Night" was meant to be featured in this soundtrack album but it wasn't. The track went through a long way before it was put out there for Elvis' audience. To give you an idea, Elvis released the Loving You soundtrack album (June 20, 1957), recorded the songs that were featured in the Jailhouse Rock movie (there wasn't an official soundtrack album out for this movie), released one Christmas album ("Elvis' Christmas Album" - October 15, 1957) and the King Creole soundtrack album too (September 19, 1958), all of this before "One Night (With You)" could be finally released in October 1958, moment he was already officially "Private Presley", serving the US Army while stationed in Germany. But... what happened? Why this song wasn't featured in the Loving You movie and its soundtrack album released in 1957? Why the lyrics changed?

LET'S DIG INTO IT:

SOUNDTRACK RECORDINGS FOR PARAMOUNT’S LOVING YOU - JANUARY 15–18, 21–22 (PARAMOUNT SCORING STAGE) AND FEBRUARY 14, 1957 (RADIO RECORDERS, HOLLYWOOD) (...) When Hal Wallis asked for a few more songs for the movie, Elvis and the boys spent some time rehearsing cover versions of Fats Domino’s current hit "Blueberry Hill" and Smiley Lewis’s "One Night (Of Sin)," written by Domino’s musical partner Dave Bartholomew and credited in part to Bartholomew’s wife.

LISTEN TO SMILEY LEWIS’S "ONE NIGHT (OF SIN)":

youtube

So, Elvis first covered this song, and it was recorded in studio, as originally written but the official song he performed had a new lyrics. Let's understand why he recorded the song again before putting it out there for us to listen to.

STUDIO SESSIONS FOR RCA JANUARY 19, 1957: RADIO RECORDERS, HOLLYWOOD (...) Both the Colonel and RCA had serious reservations about the words of the song, but Elvis liked it so much that they appealed to Hill & Range to negotiate with the song’s copyright holder, Lew Chudd of Imperial Records, for permission to rewrite the lyrics.

STUDIO SESSIONS FOR RCA FEBRUARY 23–24, 1957: RADIO RECORDERS, HOLLYWOOD (...) Meanwhile the new, bowdlerized lyrics for the Dave Bartholomew song had been produced as requested; "One night of sin is what I’m now paying for" became "One night with you is what I'm now praying for," and the deal they'd prayed and paid for freed them to pencil the song in for the Loving You album. In the end, the rewrite was a fortunate stroke. The discerning listener might have missed the more direct lyrics of the original, but Elvis's performance on the new version made up for it: Freed from worry about the song itself, he was all intensity and command. "One Night" was so good, in fact, that it was eventually dropped from the soundtrack and picked as a single with "I Beg Of You" for some indeterminate future date.

So, yes, the song needed the change in the lyrics because of its content. It was too sexual, too explicit for Elvis' audience, mainly composed by teenagers. Elvis apparently wasn't bother by this. He liked the song anyway, even with the new lyrics. He liked the idea of releasing this song but although "One Night", as recorded by Elvis in 1957, was considered a fine material for a new single, Elvis was such a perfectionist he used to redo many of his recordings before he considered they were proper to be released. He was the man picking his own singles, so they always needed his approval before they were out. He wanted work some more in "One Night" because he was not satisfied with the result, but other songs came in the way.

One work after the other, there wasn't time to redo this track recording before Elvis became a soldier in 1958. When "One Night" was finally released it was against Elvis' will. It was not about the new lyrics tho, he just thought the song could sound much better than it was. Even so, the RCA and Colonel Parker, his manager, had to make choices without his consent once his main focus was in being a soldier, between 1958-1960. Elvis used to work "by demand", that means if there was a movie to be filmed, soundtrack recording sessions were made specifically for it, if there was a new Elvis album planned to be released, then recording sessions were scheduled specifically for the new album. They didn't use to work on recording sessions to "save" tracks to be future released. Very few songs used to surplus from each recording session and that only happened when some of the tracks originally planned to be featured in one specific release weren't considered good enough, concerning the quality of the material, or due to contractual deals that weren't still set by the time that specific LP (or EP) needed to be released. When Elvis was officially inducted in the US Army, in March 1960, there wasn't enough material for 2 years of future releases and this caused a lack in songs for the RCA and Colonel Parker to work with considering they needed a certain amount of new tracks to fill an album. For 1958 and 1959, there was a certain lack in new recording material to be out but they needed to keep Elvis' name in the spotlights since there was still a huge demand for him and they couldn't miss the chance to make money just because the US Army would keep their golden boy busy to work in his records for the next couple of years, besides Colonel had promised Elvis (and of course it was his interest as well) that when he came back from the Army he would still have a career to linger on. They chose to release "One Night "as a single, the way it was recorded in 1957, even if Elvis himself didn't agree with this. It was needed.

THE RELEASE (1958):

As you can notice, plans change. The same way "One Night" wasn't featured in the originally planned "Loving You" album in 1957, when the song was released as a single the opposite track wasn't "I Beg of You" as planned previously, instead they picked "I Got Stung" as the A-side.

1958–59: GOETHESTRASSE A new single had to be chosen, and both Sholes and the Colonel were still pulling for "One Night" over Elvis’s objections; the publishing company had made a deal for part of the royalties, but the deal depended upon the song’s release as a single and couldn’t be extended past October 31, 1958. The Colonel felt it would be foolish not to take advantage of the deal, and at last he persuaded Elvis to agree. With "I Got Stung" from the June session as the B-side, the new single caused an immediate sensation. DJs clearly preferred the A-side, but both cuts shot up the charts right away, eventually reaching number four and number eight, respectively. Split airplay may well have been what stopped "One Night" from going to number one on the charts, but the single sold several hundred thousand copies more than the last two releases, even matching "Don’t"/"I Beg Of You."

Excerpts: "Elvis Presley: A Life in Music" by Ernst Jorgensen. Foreword by Peter Guralnick (1998)

Singles "One Night" (B-SIDE) and "I Got Stung" (A-SIDE) -- Released October 21, 1958 -- Recorded on February 23, 1957.

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AFTERWARDS:

As far as I know (and I say this because I am still studying Elvis' career and many things can come to my knowledge in the future), ever since released, Elvis performed the song as it was officially out, leaving "One Night (Of Sin)" to be heard only as a posthumous released track, after 1983 as it came out featuring the album "Elvis: A Legendary Performer (Vol 4)".

"One Night Of Sin" and "One Night" were featured together in the 2006 Follow That Dream (FTD) label re-issue of the "Loving You" soundtrack album. On the previous year (2005) FTD re-issue of the same album, there was only "One Night Of Sin" in the album, as it was supposed to be if the lyrics hadn't changed and the song had came out in the album it was meant to be in.

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LET'S DISCUSS IT:

First of all, I totally understand Colonel Parker's fears over the lyrics. "One Night (Of Sin)" would have been a risky song for Elvis in the 50s to perform/release and, the way I see it, the change in the lyrics came as a way of not giving munition to conservative people to "cancel" Elvis, to cause an even bigger fuss on his already pretty "stained" image as a "troublemaker", a "rock and roller rebel", an "imoral young man who's such a bad influence on the America's youth". Let's face it, have a conservative parent heard their kids listening to "One night of sin is what I'm paying for" there would have been "Loving You" LPs being burned in trashes all over the US, a lot more of badmouthing Elvis' name scenes with older folks using this song as an example of Presley's kind of "antics" and "imoral behavior", and maybe even the Loving You movie could have been forbidden if the song was performed in it, suffering boycott fired up by church leaders and all.

I wonder if that song was in fact in the movie tho. The Loving You movie is very, very "family friendly", all cute and sweet. I can't even imagine Deke Rivers singing "One Night Of Sin" onstage, since we know Elvis performed songs using not only his voice but his whole body. I mean, of course he performed "One Night (With You)" with the usual sex appeal inherent of him but the original lyrics would add much more sensuality into the performance, no doubt. I wish I could've watch him performing this son,g with its original lyrics, in the 50s... it would be something else, I tell ya. But it would also be quite scandalous for his image back then. Even so, I can't quite understand how that song was never performed by him the way he recorded at first, "One Night of Sin", during the '68 Comeback Special - or any other Elvis performance. He had no more reasons to try to play the "cool and nice southern religious boy" anymore by then, so why Elvis didn't sing this song the way it was originally recorded? I guess, concerning the '68 TV Special, this time it was a matter of being in television - you know... the sponsorship for the show would probably not agree with such "explicit" lyrics considering it was supposed to be a Christmas TV special, again, family oriented. Maybe he never performed the song with its original lyrics because nobody heard him sing it before since it was only released for the public after Elvis died. Such a shame.

As far as I know, Elvis never performed One Night Of Sin live but it would have been VERY, EXTREMELY suitable for late 60s/70s Elvis. I personally would give almost anything to watch him singing this song in the 70s, really but I guess it is what it is. The timing wasn't what good when this track came to him — or it actually was because, if you think about it, now we have two versions of that song sang by Elvis. What could be better than one Elvis song than two (and hundreds more)?

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You can listen to "One Night (Of Sin)" by Elvis Presley on:

"Elvis: A Legendary Performer" Vol 4. (1983)

"The King of Rock��n’Roll – The Complete 50’s Masters" (1992)

"Loving You" (2005) – FTD (re-issue)

"Loving You" (2006) – FTD (re-issue)

"Elvis: From the Vaults 50's" (2016)

#elvis presley #elvis history #elvis music #50s elvis #one night #1958 #loving you #elvis movies #elvis films #1957 #50s music #elvis the king #elvis fans #elvis fandom #elvis #Youtube

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