#this is very much inspired by that one record player that is in the house and that it looks exactly like mine
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Run, bek, run!
#d-raw#rats smp#rats smp fanart#ratssmp#ratssmp fanart#bekyamon#bekyamon fanart#this is very much inspired by that one record player that is in the house and that it looks exactly like mine
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Cookies as Payment
Inspired by:
i'd be lying if i said
you make me speechless
the truth is you make my
tongue so weak it forgets
what language to speak in
- by rupi kaur (milk and honey - page 61)
Word Count: 1.5k
Pairing: neighbour!joel x reader
Tags: no outbreak, fluff, baking, kissing, first kiss (with Joel), just wanna rip my heart out kind of fluff.
part two: eyes on me darlin’
Notes
little thank you to @janaispunk for tagging me in the pinterest moodboard game and therefore making me sit on pinterest for an hour looking at cookies to bake and then write this.
Thinking of making this a small series. Just small scenes losely based around rupi kaur poety as I read through their books.
You didn’t expect it. Truth be told, you’re positive he didn’t plan it either. There’s so much you didn’t expect to happen between you and your neighbour, and knowing how soft his lips are was definitely not on your bingo card.
The house smells divine, a tantalising blend of vanilla and chocolate filling the air, the sweet scent mixing with the smooth jazz playing from the record player. The atmosphere is cosy and welcoming, blending all the perfect ingredients for an afternoon with Joel as he works outside on another one of your projects.
He walks through the kitchen door, his nose leading him to you while you pull the slightly browned cookies from the oven. Your back is to him as you place the tray on the counter to continue cooking as they cool.
“They smell amazing.” Joel hums as he reaches over you for one.
“They’re not ready yet, they’re still cooking as they cool.” You swat his hand away with the oven mitt, scolding him for almost touching them.
“But they smell too good.”
You softly shove him as his hand reaches for the cookies again. You turn to face him then, arms crossed over your chest as you lean against the counter. His wired headphones dangle over his shoulders, blending into his plain white tee, his jacket discarded in the early afternoon from the Texas heat.
“I could smell ‘em from all the way outside, got me droolin’ out there.” He huffs a soft laugh as he brings his hands up in false defence, moving back from the cookies. “I’ve been tellin’ ya to start sellin’ them, make a fortune.” He points at you then before pushing himself to sit on the unused side of the counter.
You open your mouth to say something but shrug instead, your hands focusing on the small fabric strands at your sleeves. He’s mentioned this a few times, every time he tries something you cook he ends up showering you with compliments. It’s sweet, how much he likes your baking and cooking and you have considered selling what you make but the idea terrifies you. Having someone pay for what you make, you’d rather just gift them to friends and family.
The first time you cooked for him, he almost begged you to help him cook for Sarah’s birthday the following week. You didn’t believe him when he told you he was a terrible cook. He ended up cooking for you that night to prove you wrong and after he made you spaghetti, you thought it would be better if he just stuck to prepping while you did the rest of the work for Sarah’s birthday dinner. You didn’t think someone could mess up spaghetti that badly, you were proven very wrong.
It’s been a few months since you moved in next door to Joel and it took him no longer than a week to start offering help in renovating. Took two weeks before he started coming over without the excuse of helping out and just wanting to hang out.
It’s been nice, the constant company that doesn’t feel like you’re suffocating your own social battery. It’s the easy, effortless conversations that instead fill your social battery instead of draining it like others tend to do. There have been nights where nothing is said for hours, each just bathing in each other's company as you each do your own little hobbies, not demanding attention.
There’s been times where you’re so stuck in your book you forget Joel is sitting across the room, tools in his hands as he carves away at another design. It’s not until he walks over to show you that you get the fright of your life, forgetting that you’re not alone.
You fall into another easy conversation as Joel impatiently waits for the cookies to be ready. He updates you on the bench he’s building for your patio, and you get lost in how passionate he becomes when he talks about his job. His hands start moving the more he talks, the corner of his mouth twitching as he explains how he overcame something when it wasn’t quite working the way he wanted it to.
You could listen to him for hours. You have listened to him for hours.
You offered to pay him of course, but he said a batch of cookies was more than enough payment.
You make him coffee as he talks, already knowing how he likes it due to the amount of times he’s ended up over at your house in the mornings while his daughter Sarah had a house full of teenage girls over. He’d stumble over half awake and plant his face on the counter as he waits for the coffee to brew, his hair a mess and clothes crumbled. Hard to sleep when they stay up all night fuckin’ laughin and playing games. As much as he complains about it, you know he loves that his daughter ended up with a nice group of friends, even if they keep him up all night.
You pour his coffee and he takes it as he mentions he’s almost finished outside. He’s rambling now and you’re half listening as you place a few cookies on a plate. His eyes light up and he shuts up as you turn back around with the cookies. This time you don’t swat his hand away as he takes one.
His eyes close as he takes a bite and you smile, knowing that you made him happy. “So fuckin good.” he mumbles with a mouth full.
You’re standing in front of him when he opens his eyes, and you can’t seem to read his face as you smile up at him. His eyes seep into you and it lingers on your skin as his eyes flicker down to your lips. The room goes quiet besides the music in the background.
And then he puts his coffee down along with the cookie, his hands reaching for the sleeves of your dress. Your heart is in your throat by the time he pulls you between his thighs, one hand on your wrist while the other rests at the back of your neck.
Your smile is gone, eyes wide as his own burn into yours. Then his hand on your neck ever so slowly pulls you in, giving you time to move away. You don’t.
The first press of his lips on yours steals the air from your lungs and leaves you completely breathless, completely entranced by the sensation of his touch. Your muscles loosen, your mind clears, and any sense of tension in your body disappears. You feel like putty in his hands, every ounce of your trust and affection poured into this single moment. He could do anything he wishes, and you would simply allow it.
His lips are soft and comforting, the stubble a welcomed contrast as they move over yours again and again. There's a sweet and sensual feeling in the air, the connection between you both being amplified with every kiss.
His hand trails up the back of your neck and into your hair, his fingers lacing themselves through the strands and pulling a deep sigh from you. The tender, intimate touch is causing you to melt, your body and mind slowly responding to his touch. The feel of his hand in your hair is both soothing and stimulating, drawing out a shiver from you.
He pulls away all too soon, leaving you wanting more. He holds you close, his warm breath fanning over your face as he looks into your eyes. You can see the smile slowly settling on his face as he sees your gaze, the longer he looks down at you the more his smile seems to grow.
“I think you taste better.” He confesses in a whisper, his hand leaves your wrist and settles at the small of your back.
You try to speak, but the words keep failing to escape your lips. You want to say so much, but there are so many thoughts and feelings racing through your mind that you can't translate them into words. It makes your tongue tired as it struggles to say how you feel, as if your feelings have completely filled your brain and left it with nothing left to speak.
At your lack of response, Joel's smile widens and his lips move down to kiss you once again, this time with even more tenderness and affection. The touch of his lips on yours is soft and gentle, sending an intoxicating sense of joy and comfort that sweeps through you. As his lips move over yours, brushing over them in a sweet and sensual way, you can feel yourself falling further into his arms.
And you think that maybe, you like the taste of your cookies better on his lips as he kisses you. The lingering flavours of vanilla and chocolate seem to blend perfectly with his mouth, as if designed to perfectly complement each other.
#pedro pascal#joel miller#the last of us#joel tlou#joel fanfic#tlou#tlou joel#tlou fanfiction#joel x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader
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Not while I’m around (Alessia Russo x reader)
Not While I’m Around (Alessia Russo x reader)
A/N: Here’s a little fic inspired by last nights game.
Through the fake smiles and lies of excitement you could see the nerves slowly consuming Alessia.
The first sign of nerves came when you had stayed over as her new house and woke up to find her looking at some of her old United gear. She played it off by saying she woke up feeling nostalgic and that the upcoming fixture hadn’t even come to mind. It was a lie, you and her knew it.
Then each training session came with questions about her former team. How to stop them? What are there weak spots? It almost felt treacherous for the blonde to share her thoughts.
“We’re almost there” Alessia says as she looks out the window.
The two of you were sat next to each other on the coach and up until now very little had been said since your departure from St Albans.
“Alessia” you say her name but her gaze remains on the view outside the window “Less, look at me”
She does as you ask and those blue eyes stare back at you. As beautiful as they may be you can just about see the anxiousness behind them.
“I can’t. I need to stay focused”
There’s no disagreement. You grab her hand, intertwine her fingers with your own and place them on your lap. Words wasn’t the only way to reassure someone.
You wished that Alessia had been wrong with her worry about returning to Leigh Sports Village but she wasn’t. It seemed the fans were hellbent on making her feel miserable. Every time she touched the ball they booed and every time she missed a shot or got tackled they cheered.
“It’s so disrespectful” you say at a drinks break.
“I know. Look at her” Lia points to Alessia who, whilst listening to Jonas’ instructions, was scanning the crowd hoping to see any form of hope that not every fan hated her.
There wasn’t a lot you could to do about the fans. You hated how loud they were and you could see how much it was affecting Alessia even though she was playing a brilliant game.
It was just before half time when a line is well and truly crossed. Hayley Ladd goes in for a tackle on Alessia. It wasn’t necessary and it was a tough one.
“Do you need the medics?” You crouch down next to your girlfriend. Once she shakes your head you are straight in Ladd’s face shouting and pushing her. Kim is the one that drags you away before you do something you’ll regret.
At half time strategies are discussed but you can’t take your eyes of Alessia who sits on the opposite side of the room. She walks back out to the pitch with Stina, unaware that Jonas keeps you behind.
“I can’t have you losing your head out there. I know you want to protect her but they will target her now to get to you. I can’t have one of my best players getting sent off”
“I will be on by best behaviour” Jonas walks just in front of you but stops when he hears you talking again “Unless they hurt her then good luck trying to stop me”
“Hey blondie” you shout as you take your position.
Alessia turns around.
“How about we get you a goal so they have something to complain about?”
You look to Kim then to Lia who both nod their head. The team wanted a win but having Alessia score against her former team would be icing on the cake.
“I’ll try”
And try she did. Alessia made the next 15 minutes hell for the defenders in red. It was fun to watch but not as much as getting involved in it yourself. You decide to push forward a bit more and before you know it you are one on one with Mary. The goal is almost guaranteed to happen given your track record with these situations but then you see Alessia making a run to the left of you and you know you won’t be the one on the scoresheet. It was an easy goal, a tap in but Alessia make it look graceful.
She didn’t celebrate her goal, of course she didn’t. You did though and so did the rest of the team. Alessia ran towards the away fans but you made the extra effort to turn to the home fans and hold you hand up to your ear. It was the quietest they had been all game and you loved it.
After the goal things got a lot more physical with the United players clearly frustrated. Katie and Caitlin come on and within minutes they both get booked. You look towards Jonas as if asking why they can do it and you can’t.
Alessia goes down a couple of times and after helping her up each time you look towards your coach.
The next tackle is the one that makes you snap.
It’s Ella. Of all people to take Alessia out it is her best friend that does so. United had a corner that doesn’t work. Amanda is able to clear the ball to Alessia who is charging towards Mary.
“What the hell was that!” You get in her face but don’t touch her.
“C’mon Y/N you know how I get sometimes” Ella jokingly says referring to her games with England.
“You think this is funny. Look at her” you point to where Alessia is still on the ground “I don’t care if you’re her best friend. She is my girlfriend and I will protect her. Tell your team to back off or I will take matters into my own hands”
When Ella doesn’t get carded Jonas gets involved and ends up getting carded himself.
“Now?” You say as you run to the sideline. Two of your team mates had been carded, now him and your coach wasn’t a hypocrite.
“Fine but only one”
That’s all you needed to hear. You hated that you needed it but you now had permission to protect her in whichever way you seemed fit. Much to your surprise you were able to be a little bit aggressive with a few United players before a powerful body check against Malard gets you the carded. It was worth it though because she went after your girl. From that moment they seemed to back off. The players who hadn’t yet had a run in with you wanted to be spared your wrath.
When the full time whistle is blown, the game ends with Arsenal securing all three points. You refused to shake hands with anyone who wronged your girlfriend.
“Ella wants to come and apologise. Be nice” Alessia’s arms snake around your waist from behind.
“Did she apologise to you?” You turn and kiss her cheek discreetly.
“She did but she thinks you’re mad at her. I told her she’s been ridiculous”
“I am mad at her. Strike that, I’m furious. She hurt you Alessia”
“I’m ok. It’s ok” she loved how protective you were of her but she also didn’t want any tension between you and her best friend.
“No, it’s not. Not while I’m around. While I’m here, while you are my girlfriend, I won’t stand by and let anyone hurt you. Now I’m going to shower before I get pulled for media”
You leave the pitch but before you do so you see Ella watching you nervously so you go over to her and tell her that the two of you are fine and that you were only protecting your girl.
Once showered and changed the team leave the stadium to head to the coach that will take them home. Of course there are fans waiting outside the stadium, most of which you meet before getting on the coach. Ever the gentlewoman you let Alessia on the coach first but she stops on the steps as she hears the fans chanting.
“TRAITOR. TRAITOR. TRAITOR”
The blonde turns around to look at the fans, the people she once called family, standing outside the stadium she once called home. You see the look of devastation on her face and it makes your own expression turn cold.
“Y/N don’t” she grabs your hand but not tight enough.
You stood up for her on the field and now you plan on doing the same in front on the fans.
“How can you say that!” You approach the crowd who grows silence. So much so that you could hear a pin drop.
“She left us” one girl says.
“All lot of players did. Tell me, if some miracle happens and you face Barcelona would you welcome Ona back this way. Would you boo her every time she touched the ball?”
You took the silence as your answer.
“That’s what I thought. That girl, who you are hellbent on making miserable, has been dreading this game. Her leaving you was one of the hardest decisions she has ever made and I know this because she would call me in tears and all she kept saying was she didn’t was to turn her back the fans. She gave her all for this club and is one of the main reasons why you had the success you did last season. Show her some respect!”
Phones were recording you but you couldn’t care less. You were a protector, everyone knew this.
“Let’s go home” you say once you reach Alessia who is still standing on the bottom step of the coach when you return to her.
It’s about an hour into the journey and Alessia is fast asleep in your arms. It was a draining day both mentally and physically for her and you couldn’t wait to take her home. Whether that would be yours or hers was yet to be determined.
“I’ve never seen you like that before” Lia says from across the table.
“I can’t let anyone hurt her Lia”
“You love her don’t you?” She asks and even though you hesitate to respond, you do know the answer and have done for a while now.
You and Alessia would be celebrating your 1 year anniversary in a couple of months but you knew you loved her the night of the euros or more so the morning after when the blonde woke up in your bed.
“I do. I love her more than I thought possible”
“I love you too Tesoro” Alessia mumbles. She looks up at you still half asleep but with a smile on her face.
#alessia Russo x reader#alessia Russo one shot#alessia russo imagine#woso imagine#woso one shot#woso x reader#awfc x reader#awfc one shot#awfc imagine#engwnt x reader#engwnt one shot#engwnt imagine
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the way house of leaves has been revived for a cult following is so funny. it's completely backwards! it was a music industry book. the singer poe, who made waves with her debut for having a few tracks produced by j dilla and then if i remember correctly doing a 500+ show tour, essentially tanked her career to promote the book (written by her brother)
not like on purpose but it was supposed to be a paired project and there was a remix with a book excerpt read by mark (the kyrie bmw sex scene) and like, i don't know, a tie-in website -- but then her label got sold or merged or acquired and the project was eventually cancelled after languishing in limbo for a few years. there's also an aspect of this where like, a texas oil executive posed as a friend of her late father (possibly true) in order to manipulate legal proceedings (?) to ultimately own her writing and recording copyrights post-acquisition (dubious allegation, which also relies on her having signed away both types of copyright to her label in the first place, arguably a larger problem spanning the whole industry, even today, still coming up in legal proceedings from kesha and taylor swift and so on)
anyway the album (haunted) and the book were both inspired by the same event (death of their father, tad danielewsky -- as an aside, a professor of theater at brigham young university). the album features samples from a box of cassette tape recordings of his voice. and also some fake samples from a couple of guys pretending to be tad danielewski with an obviously ridiculous accent and a couple of kids pretending to be her as a kid. and it takes place inside the house. the growl is there and everything i swear
it really was one of the top tier 90s concept albums (it was released in 2000 actually) but it is usually FAR too much to handle for casual listening and a lot of it comes across difficult for being so sincere and so unfocused (it is a love letter to her dead father where one of the songs is a list of places she's gotten fucked, because, uh, this is a conversation she wanted to have with him. shrug). and yet it's hard not to take it as it is because it's so consistently well produced
so i know nobody's computer comes with a cd player anymore but to read the book without listening to the paired album implicitly packed in the back of the book jacket is kind of like missing the whole point. there's a whole second act of rashomon you guys are missing. and a third act hello the etsy teleplays. ANYWAY the point i wanted to make is that there are a couple of things about the album sticking to the roof of my mouth as being somehow prescient. there's a distorted "why (are you) so serious" sample that would have come across VERY differently post-joker, but there's also "tell me something dangerous and true," a far more interesting variation on the theme currently circulating. and i'm speaking to an empty room here because it's only the celibate 60% of this website who is reading the book because it allows them a patina of literary validity and several nested unreliable narrators to distance themselves from the sex scenes, but haunted is very authentically, directly and exclusively written in first person and to be honest it fucks too hard for you guys. i'm sorry
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one of my favorite things is dream’s otherworldliness being reinforced by hob absolutely unknowingly doing something random and innocuous that amounts to an Expression of Feelings, or something that’s part of what dream would consider a courtship ritual or an act of dedication to him; and dream calling him out on it; and hob being like, Oh, that’s not what i meant per se, but i’m 1000% on board and you are glorious and unknowable and don’t mind if i do
(building an entire inn aside...)
just small things, like hob, under a ton of stress at work, decides to throw his distaste for cliche to the winds and singlemindedly apply himself to self-care; he starts growing his own chamomile in his little kitchen garden and develops a sort of elaborate and slightly hedonistic nighttime wind-down ritual which he’s rather proud of—no electronics two hours before bed, classical playing softly on the record player, chamomile tea and honey, lavender pillow spray, time set aside for at least a few lines of poetry before bed, maybe a nice relaxing bath—the whole nine. and if while he’s doing all these things he spares a thought for his friend morpheus, who could really use some being spoiled with fine things, hob thinks, well, who can blame him?
this entire time dream is quietly watching hob do these things, like, hob gadling, my darling; for me???swoon... have the boon of extra restful sleep and fancy, lovely dreams
dream shows up at their next meeting (nothing like centennial now; it’s once a month, because friends do meet up once a month at the pub to talk and laugh and look at each other and tangle their ankles beneath the table... right?) and he’s like, “your attentions have not gone unnoticed, hob gadling,” all warm and affectionate
hob—who, mind you, is living his best life, herb garden thriving, handsomer than ever, not an ounce of tension in his shoulders, lectures divinely inspired by extra-great rest, bookshelf of poetry anthologies overflowing because he’s been reading so much, none the wiser to the favor of one (1) lord of dreams upon him—is utterly nonplussed, like, “my... my attentions?”
hob, ever grounded, ever practical, is thinking, oh my god, i tried playing footsie with him one too many times, and he had to go and notice, didn’t he, and i’m fucked—
dream is like, “your offerings? your rituals?” and poor hob, who is allergic to the occult, and would never knowingly do a ritual in his life; his eyebrows are just... climbing... so dream, thinking his poor human is nervous about rejection, adds, “i assure you, they are most welcome”
cue dream having to explain to hob that he’s basically accidentally made an altar out of his entire house and has been petitioning him with herbs and essential oils and words read with intention and ritual baths and Pointed Thoughts??? and all of it has been, you know, Very Well Received
hob is like, oh my god, let’s not get started on the Thoughts i have about you
dream is all, “and in return, i have given you my favor”
and hob is like, well, shit, i’m into it
and then they fuck in the bath, of course
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Inspired by Daniel’s silly EA advert… hope someone enjoys!
It’s been a good day. A lot of the drivers hate this stuff, putting on the tap shoes for the sponsors and asking how high, but Daniel- He kinda likes it.
It’s something he’s good at, turning up to a set and being silly, making people laugh and being told good job Daniel. That’s great, perfect. The words give his chest the kind of buoyancy that has him feeling he could float the whole way home.
They’re a reminder that soon enough, he’ll be back in Melbourne where everyone will say his name with the same tenderness the director has given him, but this time wanting the best for him, instead of from him.
“Amazing job today Daniel,” Robert says again now, clapping a warm hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “I think that last part was enough just in the one take. You’re a natural.”
The pleased smile on Daniel’s face spreads easily.
“Cool,” is all he says though, “happy to help, I- Actually mate, I was hoping you’d let me have a little something in return.”
—
“Maxy!” Daniel calls, wrestling with both the front door and the giant box. “Where are you, baby?”
Their house in LA is big, his words bouncing off the walls of the grand entrance hall. Usually, it’s full of friends, sometimes family, but this week for once it’s just the two of them.
“Sofa!” Max shouts back, voice croaky like maybe he’d been napping. He’s probably not left the same spot Daniel left him in this morning. “How was the shoot, was it nice?”
Dumping his keys on the hallway table, Daniel follows the sound of Max’s voice. As suspected, he’s still stretched out across the cushions, belly up like Jimmy when he’s sunbathing in the balcony back home. His hand is shoved down the front of his shorts, but only idly. Daniel can see he’s not hard.
Still, for a moment his gaze gets caught there, before shifting back to Max’s face, his curious expression as he takes in the giant box Daniel is holding.
Right.
“I got you something,” Daniel says, setting it down on the coffee table. He opens it and begins to dig around. “A lot of merch swag and shit, but- Tah dah!”
He pulls out the game, proudly showing Max the box that has his own face on the cover. F1 2024.
“Oh,” Max says, and his smile is as sweet at the two happy pink splotches that begin to warm up his cheeks. “Thank you, Daniel.”
He sits up then, taking the game from Daniel’s hands and holds it like it’s something very special.
It’s not much of a gift really, because Max could get a copy for himself whenever he wanted. His people could call EA, or if he was feeling particularly desperate he could offer to do an ad of his own, but- He wouldn’t.
The only things he’s ever to gone out of his way to get are his championships and Daniel.
“I will have to wait for Lando to get his copy,” Max is continuing, but already he’s moving to crouch in front of their TV, his PlayStation, “or maybe Charles, for the multi-player but-“
“I can play,” Daniel interrupts, picking up the controller from their coffee table. It feels less foreign in his hand after a day being recorded holding it.
Max pauses, game disk spinning on one finger as he turns to look at Daniel.
“You want to play?”
He sounds confused, surprised.
“Sure,” Daniel says, all fake nonchalance. “I’ve even had a head start playing, I might be better than you.”
With a warmth fizzing in his belly, he watches the shock on Max’s face melt into quiet joy. He ducks his head to finish putting the game into the console, and when he takes a seat next to Daniel on the sofa, it’s close enough that their thighs are pressed together. Warm.
“I think if you want to beat me, you will have to hold it like this,” Max pokes at Daniel with a teasing grin, and then his hands are moving gently over Daniel’s to correct where he’s apparently holding the controller all wrong.
Daniel snorts, pushing out an elbow to nudge at the soft place Max’s ribs hide underneath.
“Fighting talk, baby,” he insists with far more confidence than he feels. “Just you wait, you’ll be begging for mercy.”
Max’s laugh is bright.
“Okay but I think we need to look at the settings first,” he begins again, “because of course I have the sensitivity set very high, and-“
Daniel lets Max’s explanations wash over him like music.
—
Later, Daniel manages to finally win a race by shunting Max into the first corner, speeding away while he’s still spinning in the gravel.
“That of course, does not count,” Max insists indignantly, though there’s a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “That is cheating, Daniel.”
“Not what you said in Baku baby,” Daniel reminds him, and then pokes his tongue out when Max begins to trip over his protests that he has done nothing wrong, ever.
Daniel begins a loud rendition of ‘we are the champions,’ in favour of listening.
Giving up his attempts to defend himself, Max tosses his controller onto the coffee table with a sharp clatter, instead choosing to crawl over Daniel, pressing him down into the sofa.
“I will show you a fucking champion,” he mutters, his thigh finding its way between Daniel’s legs.
Daniel’s own controller hits the hard wood floor with a thud.
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Just Pretend-sixteen
*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*
Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader
Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.
Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.
Authors Note: Please listen to Eyelids by PVRIS during this chapter. Thank you very much.
Collaborating With: @thescarlettvvitch(better give her all the love as well)
Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @ozwriterchick @waake-meee-up @notingridslurkaccount @niicoleleigh @sammyjoeee @xxrainstorm @dominuslunae @notmaddihealy @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @iknownothingpeople @writethrough @thebadchic @blackveilomens Claudia on Tumblr @tobe-written @blacksoul-27 @loeytuan98 @loverofagoodbeard @comfortcharactercraze @lma1986 @plutonikchaos1 @spicywhenspeaking @lyschko666 @somewhere-diamond @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here @koskeepsake @bngurngheart @shilohrosechicken @emzandthevoid
READER
With the notebook in my lap, as I sat cross-legged on my bed with Salem curled up next to me, purring away, I watched intently my laptop screen. My heart pounded so hard in my chest it made it hard to breathe. Noah and Jolly were currently performing a live stream on Veeps and from the moment I clicked on the video, I couldn’t stop staring; with his long hair cascading down his face in perfect waves. His face stone with concentration but yet soft with the features I loved.
“Do you think he’ll mess up like the last stream he did?” I asked Salem while scratching his belly.
Noah’s voice was something extremely distinctive, not just anyone could hold a tune or lit a candle to how he sounded. The way he effortlessly went through every emotion in his body. I looked at Noah as he was pretty still, with thick hair and soft eyes, and he swayed so gracefully that it almost seemed as though he was gliding. I’ve seen beautiful men before; men who caught my eye, but to my mind, they usually lacked the traits I found most desirable. Traits like intelligence, confidence, strength of spirit, passion, traits that inspired others to greatness, traits I aspired to myself, all the traits he had.
I hung off the cliff for Noah for a long time until recently, when I fell to the depths below.
It sparked something in me as I watched Jolly and Noah’s performance. I wanted to do something like this too; to showcase my real voice. I was better without Trey; the band was better. Trey wasn’t the end-all, and I wanted to prove it further. I understood the fans; I knew their positions; I understood their inner turmoil and their panic. Change is actually horrific under some circumstances, not all, but surely a few. This one was big.
Hollow Souls was never supposed to be a 3 piece. Hell, we didn’t even have a guitar player and our tech had to fill in when we recorded My House. Which is why I was learning how to play guitar so I could take Trey’s place. A lot of change within a few months and while it was scary, it was also exciting. But that didn’t stop me from questioning once again if we needed another person. What if I wasn’t strong enough to do this alone? Just the three of us?
What the hell were you worried about, angel?
I was thinking so heavily about what Noah texted me. He was proud of me. Of me! And my friends. That woke me up, he always could. I wanted to grab my phone to call him, and ask him for more reassurance. Our 2:30 conversations were slim and in between and I was struggling with that. I didn’t want to push my luck; he had Bailey.
Bailey.
Bailey.
I rolled my eyes, at the memories of the party. Ridiculous. I was tiptoeing around Noah; I knew if I called him I’d so desperately try to stay on the line. But what if she showed? It was killing me.
Therefore, I was hesitant to perform Eyelids; I was worried Noah’s reaction would warrant further frustration, considering he was in the arms of someone else. I couldn’t handle it because it fucking hurt seeing him with her. I wanted Noah to myself, as selfish as that sounded. I could only hope that in the discovery of my lyrics, he’ll at least know I meant everything we did and said that whole tour, meeting him changed my life for the better; before I hurt him.
I miss him and I only wished I was in his arms.
As the livestream ended, I smiled warmly as Noah and Jolly waved goodbye at the camera and then tried to focus my attention on the paper in my lap.
Amongst the idea of our own live stream, I couldn’t help but want more out of me. It was small; it was something just dying to purge out. However, the more I looked at the lyrics on paper, the more it didn’t fit; it wasn’t me. It was as if these lyrics were meant for someone else.
Letting out a deep breath, I sang a harmony I thought would fit with the lyrics. “Evened the scores, then I let it all go fall apart. And every step forward put a little more sword in your heart, yeah. Looking sideways when I say I’m okay with the past but I’m afraid of what I might say if you ask.”
The more I read it, over and over. It was good; I’ll say that. But, surely it didn’t belong to me. I could feel that. But I didn’t give up yet. I wrote another verse, hoping this one would speak more of me.
“I did it to myself, tried to be someone else. I let it tear me down, and I'll never be the same. I did it to myself and tried to be someone else. And you didn't notice 'til I finally got, finally got away.”
Fuck, even singing these lyrics didn’t feel right. My heart knew that this didn’t belong to me, it was meant for someone else.
Making a rash decision, I pulled out my phone and clicked on the name I needed help from.
“Hello?”
I perked up at the accent immediately. “Jolly! Hey, it's me. Y/N.”
A light chuckle echoed in my ear. “I know who it is, doll, I have caller ID.”
“Ok don’t be smart,” I teased.
“Sorry,” he laughs, “What do I owe the pleasure?”
I bit my lip, wondering how he would take my idea. It sounded rash in my head but if anyone were to listen to my idea; it was Jolly.
“I have something to run by you. Well, actually a few things.”
NOAH
My knee bounced as I sat in my chair, phone gripped tightly in my hand, as I glanced at the clock on my computer.
2:28.
It has been almost a week now since our last 2:30 call and the last one was short as she was running around Japan with her dad. Things were awkward to say the least at the party the other night and I wanted to make sure that things between us were still good.
Good? What’s considered good anymore? You’re dating someone else, dumbass.
Ignoring the voice in my mind, I let out a deep breath before clicking on Y/N’s name; the ringing echoing loudly in my quiet room. It rang and rang and rang. It went on like this for a few more times until, eventually; I hung up the call with a groan. But I wasn’t ready to give up yet and I typed out a quick message to Malcolm.
ME: Is Y/N around? I tried calling her.
Malcolm: Yeah, she’s been in the shower. Has been in there for a while- too long, maybe shaving or some shit. I’ll have her call you.
An audible, deep groan, fell from my lips as I leaned my head back against the headrest of my chair when the thought of Y/N in the shower.
Naked, water, and soap ran down every inch of her unholy skin.
“Shit,” I cursed when my dick twitched in my sweats.
“Noah.”
Y/N’s voice rang in my ear as my eyes fluttered shut, hands in fists on my thighs. My vision was so vivid as if I was in the shower with her, our wet skin ablaze as I wrapped my arms around her from behind to bury my face into the crook of her neck.
“Angel,” I breathed while my palm pressed against my hard cock in my sweats.
My hips raised from the chair as a moan crawled out of my throat, my hand now all but ripping out my dripping cock from my pants. It was red and thick with the mere thought of Y/N in the shower. Gripping it between my fingers, I slowly pumped up and down, thumb grazing over the pre-cum that leaked out from the slit and circled it around the head of my cock.
“Noah, I need you.”
Her name fell from my lips as a prayer while I leaned farther back into my chair as my hand worked faster, the grip around myself tightened as the orgasm buzzed in my lower stomach. The burn felt so good but it wasn’t enough; I needed something else to help me over the edge.
I pulled the extra skin down tight, cock standing straight up in my hand, as I let out a strangled breath. My orgasm was right there, but I wanted to edge myself longer; I didn’t want this vision to end.
Y/N rubbed the soap over every inch of her skin, her fingers teasing over her nipples as he head fell back, water spraying into her mouth.
But after that vision, another one came to mind which made my hand work in faster strokes. Y/N on top of me with her hands gripping my braids as her mouth fell slack with ecstasy. I consistently became a time traveler of that night, the night she rode me into oblivion. A night I’ll surely never forget. Even in these moments, my mind goes there.
“Fuck. Shit.” I cursed as a shock shot from the base of my spine to the top when my body went stiff, orgasm so close to destroying me.
I jerked when my phone buzzed against the computer desk so I stopped my actions but kept my grip tight on my aching cock to realize Bailey was calling me.
Ignore.
With my phone still in my hand, I quickly went to my photos and clicked on one of my favorite pictures of Y/N; from the day we spent on the beach. She was staring straight out into the water, a small smile playing on her sweet, plump lips.
Fuck, I wished those lips were strangled around my cock.
Once the phone was set up directly in front of me, I leaned back into my chair again and worked my hand in fast short strokes, the orgasm once again burning low in my belly.
“Noah.” Y/N’s voice echoed in my mind again.
“Shit, angel. I’m gonna-fuck,” I groaned low, the noise barely audible as it crawled out of my throat when my release finally washed over me.
Cum shot all over my hand and onto my pants but none of that mattered; my dark eyes were stuck on the picture on the screen. Until a different picture appeared which had me cursing and wiping my cum covered hand on my pants before tucking myself back into my pants. Just a simple phone call from her had my dick aching again.
With a few steady breaths, I ran my clean hand through my hair before answering the FaceTime call; Y/N’s bright smile warming my heart.
“Hi Mochi! I didn’t mean to miss your call. I was in the shower.”
She was sitting on her bed, water still dripping from her wet hair, and internally I groaned when the same thoughts as earlier came creeping back into my mind.
“Oh yeah? You-uh-feeling clean?” I flushed while shifting in my chair.
“Well, yeah,” she chuckled. “That’s what a shower is. Water, soap.”
Naked, I know the drill.
I cleared my throat. “Right. Anyway, can you talk or is this a bad time?”
“Actually, I was going to send this in the group chat but since I have you on the phone, I figured now would be the best time.”
I raised a brow as my heart pounded widely in my chest, wondering what she was going to say.
“Veeps offered Hollow Souls to do a stream as well! So I wanted to make sure you were free to watch it, maybe? Totally fine if you can’t, I know you might be busy with-.”
“I’ll watch it,” I rushed out, not missing a beat. “What time?”
“Oh, in about 2 hours?” She bit her lip, hopeful I’d say yes.
My dick throbbed as memories of moments before her phone call replayed in my mind. “I’ll have the tv on standby downstairs, angel. We wouldn’t miss that shit for anything.”
Y/N smiled brightly as she brought Salem into view of her phone, his green eyes staring directly into my soul. “Salem thanks you for the support.”
“I miss him, we really bonded while you were gone,” I smiled a bit.
“Well, you can come by anytime to hang out with him; or me,” Y/N added the last bit slyly.
“Count me in, angel.”
READER
Once dressed, almost ready for the live stream, I was rummaging through my sock drawer to find a pair of socks when my fingers brushed against something soft. My brow raised as I pulled out two small velvet boxes, my mind immediately going back to my birthday.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I opened the box, and a gasp left my lips as the silver necklace and matching bracelet shined under the light of the room. It wasn't anything over the top and there were no diamonds but that didn't matter to me. I wasn't one for over-the-top jewelry, this simple chain and bracelet were enough.
With wet eyes, I gazed up at Noah, who had a nervous look on his face as he fiddled with his wooden rosary. "Do you like it?"
I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him into my embrace, burying my face into his neck. "I love it, Noah. Thank you so much."
With the haste of break up, the end of the tour, the move, and everything that happened between Noah and me, I almost forgot about the jewelry. I've stared at this bracelet and this fucking necklace for a while now. To think I had almost forgotten it, I shook my head at the thought. I couldn’t, things that were meant for us to find their way back. Well; at least that’s what I told myself. I yearned for him, his comfort, his gaze. I didn’t plan on falling in love with him. But once we met, it was clear that neither of us could control what was happening to us. I gasped when I realized what that burning feeling in my heart took over my entire existence each time I thought of him or saw him.
I love Noah.
I nearly stumbled on my feet as a breath fell from my lips again. “It’s too late now.”
With shaky hands, I opened the box, my heart skipping a beat. It still took my breath away as I opened the box, clasping on the necklace first then the bracelet.
“I have to admit, Salem” I turned towards the mirror in my room so I could stare at my reflection while the cat sat on my vanity. “Noah did pretty well.”
There was a knock on my open door, and I gave a small smile towards Jolly. “Hey.”
“Almost ready?” He asked.
“Yep.”
He then taped a finger to his neckline twice. “That’s a nice necklace. Who gave you that?”
“It was a birthday gift,” I shrugged nonchalantly.
The corner of Jolly’s mouth turned up in a grin. “That’s not what I asked.”
Ignoring his comment, I slid into my slippers and led him out of my room down to the dining room where we set up earlier.
Jolly first arrived a few hours ago for our daily lessons before helping me set up the stream. After I watched theirs almost a week ago, I asked Jolly if he could come over to help me with my stream. I couldn’t play guitar but we could practice the two songs I wanted to perform.
Chase and Malcolm asked if I needed them for this but I could tell they already had plans. Even though this was a Hollow Souls set, it was more of an acoustic version so Chase on drums and Malcolm on bass wasn’t needed; hence why I asked Jolly to help. First off, who else was better to teach me how to play guitar than him? I knew the basics, but he was helping me hone in on my skills. Second, I needed to talk to him about something important.
As I finished making things were in order, Jolly sat on his chair to strum the first few notes of If I’m There on his guitar.
“Feel comfortable enough?” He wondered.
I nodded while looking at the laptop to make sure the stream was ready; all I had to do was hit the live button.
“Yep. We’ve been practicing every day. It helps I have a great teacher,” I beamed at him. “Thanks for this, Jolly. I didn’t know who else to ask and I know you’re Noah’s friend first.”
Jolly shrugged. “You’re my friend as well, doll. I help my friends and that’s something Noah knows and understands.”
Silence fell between us for a long moment until he hesitated.
“How did you feel about our new single, honestly?”
My shoulders went rigid for a second before I shrugged. “I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?”
“Y/N don’t take this the wrong way, but you can’t be that dense. You know it was about you, right?” Jolly asked.
“I-,” The words died in my throat.
Jolly raised a brow. “Yeah, so tell me. How do you feel about it?”
“Are you my shrink now?” I crossed my arms over my chest, one last ditch effort at shielding myself from admitting the truth.
“No, a friend,” he sighed while setting down the guitar.
Defeated, I fell into the chair with a groan. “I-I feel sad. Noah must fucking hate me.”
“I assure you, he doesn’t,” Jolly said.
“How can you be so sure, Jolly? He went and found someone else. He’s clearly writing how he feels too. I hate feeling like this.” I sat with my hands folded in my lap as I chipped away at the nail polish.
“So talk to him, because I can tell you right now, Noah’s not head over heels for this girl. I think you know deep down what he’s trying to do.”
I refused to meet his gaze as I shook my head. “I don’t know what you mean. I can’t-he seems happy.”
“Y/N,” Jolly sighed. “He’s not happy unless he’s with you.”
“Then he needs to tell me that,” my eyes snapped up towards him. “I was going to express some things I’ve discovered but-.”
Jolly raised his brows. “Discovered what?”
For a split second, I thought about telling him but decided against it. “It doesn’t matter, I can’t mess anything up for him. I need Noah to need me. It works both ways, Jolly.”
“Y/N you’re not understanding you’ve got it all wrong-.”
“Can we move on, please? It hurts enough to think about him with someone else the last fucking thing I want to do is talk about them,” I let out a shaky breath as my bottom lip wobbled.
Jolly gave me a weak smile. “Sure thing, doll. Did you want to go live?”
“Actually,” I bit my lip before reaching over to the table to grab a piece of paper. “There’s something I want to run by you.”
When he nodded, I handed Jolly the paper. “I wrote it about Trey but the thought of recording it scares me. It’s deeper than what I typically write and it's not me. I thought about selling it but that didn’t feel right.”
I watched intently as Jolly read the lyrics, his eyes taking in every inch of the page, the smile on his lips growing with each pass.
“Doll, this is,” he shook his head. “Amazing. Are you sure?”
Our eyes locked as I nodded. “It’s not a Hollow Souls song. But Bad Omens on the other hand, I know you guys can give it the justice it deserves.”
NOAH
“SHUT UP!” I bellowed while tossing a pillow towards Jesse, who was talking extensively to Orie about some shit that didn’t matter. “The live stream is about to start.”
Jesse caught the pillow mid-throw and smirked. “Excited, are we?”
Flipping him off, I sat on the couch with a beer in one hand and my phone in the other, sending another text to Jolly. He’d been M.I. A all day, and we were wondering if he was going to join.
“Has anyone heard from Jolly?” I asked.
Orie shrugged. “I thought he was in his room.”
“We went to lunch earlier,” Michael said while walking into the living room, bowl full of random snacks in his hands before he set them on the coffee table. “But he said he had some things to take care of afterward.”
Just then the stream began and Y/N’s soft voice echoed through the speakers.
“Shit, are we live? Wait, I probably shouldn’t swear on this.”
We all shared a laugh until we saw who was sitting next to her.
“Hi everyone! It’s Y/N from Hollow Souls. You might have noticed that I have a friend here with me today,” Y/N adjusted the headphones before she motioned to Jolly who sat on her left. “Jolly from Bad Omens.”
Jolly waved to the camera. “Hi.”
“I guess that’s what his errand was,” Jesse said while throwing some popcorn in his mouth.
Ignoring him, I wondered why Jolly was with Y/N right now. I wasn’t jealous he was with her. I was jealous that I wasn’t there instead. She looked breathtaking with her long hair pulled back in a tight bun to showcase the sharp features of her face, her plump lips glistening with the lip gloss she must have applied before the stream started. Her bright eyes shined with the excitement of what she was about to perform which in turn made me sit up straighter in my spot on the couch, a proud smile on my face.
“So, the reason Malcolm and Chase aren’t here is because this set is more of an acoustic one. I recently saw some friends of mine do something like this and wanted to try it,” she smiled over to Jolly.
“I’m here for moral support,” Jolly said.
“He’s actually been teaching me guitar the last week because I wanted to do more for this band since we kicked Trey out,” Y/N revealed.
At the mention of his name, I felt my face twitch but kept it as stone as I could, not wanting to give anything away to the rest of the guys. They were the only three of the entire group that didn’t know the truth about Y/N’s relationship with Trey.
“Did you know Jolly was teaching her guitar?” Jesse asked me.
I shook my head while running a hand through my hair. “I had no idea she wanted to learn. I mean, I knew they had to figure out a guitarist moving forward but didn’t know she wanted to play.”
“She didn’t ask you?” Orie wondered.
I shrugged, wondering the same but did my best not to dwell on it as I went back to watching the feed.
“So, I’m going to sing two songs for you guys today. The first one is a cover, and the second is something new. It’s nowhere near ready for release but it’s been weighing heavy on my heart the last few weeks since I wrote it.”
Y/N adjusted her headphones before glancing over to her laptop. “Woah, the chat is going crazy you’re here, Jolly.”
He hummed in amusement while tuning the guitar. “What are they saying?”
“Where’s Noah? When is the collab with Bad Omens coming?”
Y/N snickered before looking back at the camera, giving a wink. “I don’t know. Noah has my number.”
Quickly pulling out my phone, I pulled up the stream to add something to the chat.
“Oh, look who joined the chat. Jolly, Noah is wondering if you could bring pizza home,” Y/N laughed as she read my comment.
I chuckled to myself as we saw Jolly roll his eyes. Then Y/N read my next comment, her cheeks flushing red; something others might not have noticed. But I did. I watched and analyzed everything she did with a careful eye.
The comment I sent in the chat was something simple; something only a few of us would understand.
We can talk about the collab during our next phone call.
She shifted in her chair, a hint of a smile on her face. “Well, my first song might sound familiar to a lot of you. It’s my first time performing it but unlike Noah did last week, I won’t mess up the words.”
Jolly broke out in laughter before playing the opening notes of the song; one I recognized immediately even though I knew which one she meant before Jolly played the first few notes of the song. There was only one song I messed up on a livestream recently. If I’m There.
Her beautiful voice stung deep into my veins as I fell back on the couch.
“Oh. Shit,” Orie spoke. “No offense, man, but Y/N kills your lyrics.”
I nodded, numbly as I agreed with him. It was as if my lyrics were made for her voice, the sultry tone of it sending chills all over my body. She gripped the microphone with a soft touch and my cock twitched as I remembered earlier up in my bedroom.
As she got to the verse I messed up on my own livestream, Y/N’s eyes opened to throw a quick wink and smirk toward the camera when she sang it perfectly; almost annoyingly perfect.
I felt a pair of eyes burning into the side of my head and briefly tearing my gaze away from the television; I shot Jesse a look.
“What?”
He pursed his lips while shaking his head. “You haven’t stopped smiling since she came on the screen. You look like a kid that was given free rein in a candy store.”
Rolling my eyes, I focused back to Y/N just in time as she sang the last two lines of the song.
“And if you're there to catch me when I fall then maybe Hell ain't so bad after all,” she breathed before pushing away the microphone from her a tad.
Shit.
This was different than Hollow Souls. The softness of the song was fucking made for Y/N and something she needed to do more of.
“Fuck yes,” she beamed but then smacked a hand over her face. “Sorry, didn’t mean to swear. I’ll add it to the jar Malcolm has on top of the fridge.”
“He doesn’t?” Michael chucked.
I nodded while taking a long drink of my beer. “He does. I saw it when I was there taking care of Salem. Thing is empty but fuck is in their everyday vocabulary so you know they’re not adding to that shit.”
Noticing she was reading the comments once again, I quickly typed out one.
Great job, Y/N! Feel free to cover any of our songs. I’d always watch it with a proud smile.
Even though she didn’t say she read it, I knew she did with the way the corner of her lip raised and the way her eyes crinkled at the sides.
“Alright, the last song is a new one. We do plan on having it on the next record but it will sound different from what you’ll hear right now. My friends, thank you for watching. This one is called Eyelids.”
This had me sitting on the edge of the couch, elbows on my knees, as excitement filled me.
“I'll face my fear of the evening once I get used to this feeling. I can't sleep. That's when you're torn away from me. While I'm dreaming I feel you leaving.”
My jaw fell slack, hearing the rawness in her voice with the pure emotion being poured out of her soul.
"I'll face my fear of the sunrise when I wake up with your hand inside mine. It's hard to say good morning when it's followed with goodbye. Just wanted to say good night.”
Something glinted on the screen, which immediately took my gaze away from her face down to her neck, my heart and breath catching in my throat. I remained silent as my body leaned closer to the television.
“What are you doing, man? Did you forget your glasses?” Michael joked.
His voice was a white noise as I moved from my spot on the couch to the coffee table, now sitting directly in front of the screen.
What the fuck?
Is that?
I inched closer and closer to that television, I couldn’t hear what was being said to me as I scrunched my face up and began squinting.
No, it can’t be.
“Our eyes fighting the light but I'm not ready to say good night, ooh. I try and hold on tight 'cause it's just not time to say good night. Say good night.”
It hung almost a little well above her cleavage, that beautiful silky neck- my eyes moved quickly to her wrists.
“Let me see,” I muttered under my breath.
I made an inaudible sound from my throat, mouth peering a little open.
She was wearing them; both of them. My heart raced even further, longer, more rapidly.
I was feeling a lot of things at once; I didn’t quite know how to place them. I needed a beer. I needed to talk to my shrink. That’s what I should do, because the panic was setting in, this ache was almost unbearable.
Why, why would she want to wear them after everything? Even now?
I’m hurting her right back, aren’t I?
Everything has become a puddle of mud, a mess of my volition now. I did this. All I could think while seeing the jewelry I gifted her, all I could hear while listening to her voice was “Maybe, just maybe I’ll come back to you.”
She was occupied by her own complicated thoughts - you could tell from the way she was squinting and moving her mouth.
Maybe I was imagining things. Maybe until-.
“I'll face my fear of the cold nights when you leave me behind. I felt your hands in my hair. I felt your breath on my neck. Yeah, I need to feel you again. Just wanted to say good night.”
My body went still, all the air taken from my lungs, as I watched her lips move. Her own personal conflict was clear in the way the muscles in her jaw tightened and her eyes screwed shut.
No, it couldn’t be.
She didn’t.
Did she?
Was this about us?
No, I’m overthinking this.
“Our eyes fighting the light but I'm not ready to say good night, ooh. I try and hold on tight 'cause it's just not time to say good night. Say good night.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Orie smack Jesse on the shoulder and motioned to the stillness of me; still unmoving.
“Our eyes fighting the light. But I'm not ready to say good night, ooh. I try and hold on tight 'cause it's just not time to say good night. Say good night.”
I could see Jolly vibing along to the lyrics next to Y/N but it didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered more than this moment right here as I watched her pour every feeling about that night into this one song. My heart fell deep into the pits of my stomach when I saw her grip the necklace, playing with it between two fingers.
These eyes are closed again for yet another night I wake up and I can feel you by my side. But I can't find you in the dark when you're so far. Yeah, that's the hardest part. Here comes the hardest part.
My eyes dropped slightly in tangent with my shoulders.
Our eyes fight the light. But I'm not ready to say good night oh. I try and hold on tight 'cause it's just not time to say good night. To say good night.
As the last lyric faded into the air, there was a hushed recording playing some words in the background; another small thing I picked up on.
“I mean in what world do I go to sleep after you and wake up before you? I don't even know how it happens. Well, I hope you're having sweet dreams. And you call me when you wake up.”
Fuck.
My bottom lip trembled when I recognized that voice. It was Y/N’s, and it wasn’t just any kind of recording. No, it was a voicemail she left me while she was in Japan. It was right after I missed one of our 2:30 calls. I was asleep but once I noticed she called me less than an hour later; I listened to the voicemail before quickly calling her back.
“Okay, that deserves a curse,” Jolly said. “You fucking killed that, Y/N.”
She was beaming with pride. “Holy shit, guys. You don’t understand how long I’ve had this festering inside of me. It feels so good to get out.”
Y/N clicked on the laptop to read through some of the comments, a small frown pulling at her lips.
“Oh my god. Are you and Trey getting back together?! You were so perfect. No, we’re not getting back together. I grew up since the breakup; I became a savage. But not everything is about fucking Trey. This is just a song about a really awesome guy. That’s it.”
I was still, like a statue, unmoving and unnerving as Joly and Y/N said their goodbyes before the stream ended; a black screen mirror back to me.
Jesse leaned forward in his chair. “Noah-.”
Hearing my name broke me out of the trance and without saying another word, I jumped up from my spot on the coffee table and took the stairs two at a time, my footsteps thundering throughout the house before I slammed myself into my bedroom.
Tears threatened to spill, burning at the corners of my eyes, but I held them in with a choked sob as I ran a shaky hand over my face.
I didn’t know what to make of anything anymore. Maybe just romantics would call this a twisted, toxic beginning to a love story while the cynics would call it a tragedy. In my mind, it’s a little bit of both, and no matter how you choose to view it in the end, it doesn’t change the fact that it involves a great deal of my life and the path I’ve chosen to follow and that I- I love her.
Ripping the drawer of my desk open, I rummaged through the useless crap, already knowing what I was looking for. I tossed the velvet boxes to the side and cradled the jewelry, my large hands encased them. I pressed them on my forehead and let the tears finally spill to the floor as I fell to my knees, resting my back up against my bed.
I cried; actually fucking cried.
The necklace and bracelet shook in my hands as the sobs wrecked through me. I haven’t cried like this in a long time mostly because I hated being this open and vulnerable. It made me sick, knowing that I wasn’t able to protect myself from these feelings right now. I spent my entire life protecting myself from these feelings only for Y/N to sink her claws into me in the best way possible.
“I love her,” I choked out through sobs, realizing what I felt earlier. “I fucking love her.”
NOAH
I wasn’t sure how long I kneeled on the floor, jewelry grasped deep in my palms as it dug into my skin. But it wasn’t until there was a soft knock on the door that pulled me from the despair. Red, puffy, bloodshot eyes glanced up at Jolly, whose shoulders fell as he took in my state; tears dried to my face and hair a mess from running my hands through it.
“Noah,” he muttered.
“Please leave me alone right now.” I whimpered lowly, refusing to meet his gaze again.
“No. Jesse said watching her perform Eyelids fucked you up. What’s going on?” Jolly kneeled in front of me.
“I can’t-,” I choked on a sob. “I don’t want to deal with this.”
Jolly rubbed his jaw. “Was it the song or the jewelry?”
My eyes snapped up to him. “How did you know about the jewelry?”
“You used the band card to charge it, goof. I see everything,” Jolly gave me a small smile.
“Fuck. Sorry,” I sighed.
“It’s okay man, it’s okay,” he reassured me with a strong grip on my shoulder.
“No, no, it’s not. I’m tired of feeling. I want to disappear, just disappear.”
Jolly now gripped both of my shoulders, forcing me to look at him. "No, you don’t. Don’t say that shit.”
“I just mean I wish it wasn’t this. Y/N’s been giving me mixed signals.” I mumbled.
“Have you thought you’re doing the same? You’re literally hanging out with another woman out of spite,” He raised a questioning brow.
I leaned my head against the side of my mattress. “She won’t tell me how she feels, I’m trying to show her. I’ve always tried to show her.”
“There’s a saying.” Jolly paused, trying to think of the right words to say. “We are defined by what we do, not just nice words. However, I think you’ve shown enough, Noah. It’s time you use your words.”
“I don’t know how,” I admitted with a shaky breath after a long beat of silence.
“If you’re not comfortable talking about it with us, Noah. Talk to your therapist about it- but this has to stop. It’s draining you.”
I saw the way Jolly’s mouth twitched, his own emotions close to slipping through his own mask, but he held it stronger than me.
“Once you’re in a better place, come to the studio. I have something to show you.”
I nodded. “Sure, yeah. Might be good for me to write something.”
Jolly gave one last squeeze to my shoulder. “Love you, man.”
“You too. Thank you.” I smiled.
NOAH
An hour and a long shower later, I walked down the hallway toward our studio with a new tune in my head. The lyrics were loud in my mind as I played with the new bracelet on my wrist, twisting it between two fingers.
“There’s not another way don’t let me go, don’t dig another grave today,” I sang under my breath as I walked through the door.
Jolly was sitting on the couch in the room, guitar on his lap and notebook on the floor at his feet. He looked up as I walked in and had a nervous smile on his face.
“Hey, you better?”
I gave a small nod. “Yeah. What’s this?”
As I sat on the couch next to him, I went to reach for the notepad before he placed a foot over it, blocking me from retrieving it.
“Y/N gave me something earlier. I really like it but wanted to run it by you, if you were comfortable,” Jolly said hesitantly.
I tensed, not knowing how to feel. I wasn’t comfortable with whatever Jolly needed to show me but knowing it was from Y/N eventually made me agree.
He removed his foot so I could grab the notebook, eyes immediately scanning over the lyrics on the page.
Evened the scores, then I let it all go fall apart. And every step forward put a little more sword in your heart, yeah. Looking sideways when I say I’m okay with the past but I’m afraid of what I might say if you ask. I did it to myself, tried to be someone else. I let it tear me down, and I'll never be the same. I did it to myself, tried to be someone else. And you didn't notice 'til I finally got, finally got away.
My heart stuttered in my chest as I licked my lips. “Wow, that’s impressive. When did you find the time to write this? Usually, that's my wheelhouse.”
“Noah cut the shit. You know this isn’t my work. I just told you, it’s Y/N’s,” Jolly sighed while pinching the bridge of his nose.
“I’m just being a dick.” I snorted a laugh while bumping his shoulder with mine.
“Yeah, you are. Now what do you think? We can use this, no? As inspiration, maybe?”
Suddenly the lyrics I sang a moment before walking into the room played in my mind again; I hummed them under my breath, adding it to the lyrics Y/N wrote.
“One second,” I muttered while pulling out my phone.
ME: You sure you want us to have your lyrics?
Y/N’s response was immediate.
Angel 🪽: Nobody could do it better than you guys. You’ll give those lyrics the justice it deserve.
Leaving the message on read, Jolly and I worked tirelessly to rework the lyrics together and when I felt we were in a good position with them, I reached for my phone again. There was still a lingering feeling festering deep inside of me, that I wanted to make sure Y/N was fine with.
ME: I’m taking creative liberty for this, are you good with that?
Angel 🪽: What's mine is yours, Noah.
Yeah, not everything.
#noah sebastian#noah sebastian and reader#noah sebastian x reader#noah sebastian reader insert#noah sebastian smut#enemies to lovers#right person wrong time#starcrossed lovers
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All that I do is wait for you.
Notes: I’m a feminist but not when it comes to Matty Healy, clearly. On a more serious note, I wanted to participate in the tag cleanse so, here it is!
P.s. It’s very loosely inspired by 'Batphone' by Arctic Monkeys and 'Wives and lovers' by Jack Jones bc they’ve been on repeat lately
TW: MDNI!, typos (english is not my first language), traditional gender roles/stay at home girlfriend brain rot, religious themes (I don't even know how that happened), smut
WC: 1.9k
You wait in silence on the rug of the living room, your back to the couch, your knees drawn up against your chest. Everything about this moment feels appropriate, normal, even comfortable, from the stiffness of your now cold limbs to the slight smell of smoke and ashes coming from the wood stove in the corner, the only light source that you allowed yourself to keep on.
It suits you, an almost hermit-like situation, silence as your only companion in a never ending wait for salvation.
He had called you several hours prior from an airport located in a warmer country, telling you he was on his way. You knew it. Of course you knew it. You didn't talk much during touring days but you religiously kept track of his schedule, every stop carefully listed by him on a piece of paper now attached with an apple-shaped magnet on the refrigerator door. Little boxes accompanied each one of them for you to cross; today, the last little square was ticked off.
You recall the first time you had to welcome him home after such a long time. You had felt lost. Did he need anything? A ride from the airport, a warm meal, a new set of lingerie to rip off of you? You had pondered his return so much that your mind had started to suggest you had chosen a life that couldn't belong to you. Sooner or later, you had thought, he would have realized your inadequacy to fill the spot beside him at dinners or at the pub, to fill his house, to fill the rest of his life with, maybe even his grave in the family chapel up north. Concerns, heavy like lead, had crowded your head to the point you felt the ground underneath you flex under the weight.
First times are often embarrassing, sweet or clumsy, but the first time he had returned home to you it just felt… wrong, like you couldn’t provide him with an appropriate welcome. The echo of his footsteps around the house had felt chastising and more similar to the sound of whip to the one of your lover's return.
You had spoken to him about it some time later, explaining the lack of purpose you felt laying there, waiting for him to rescue you instead of welcoming him, and he, of course, had told you not to worry, and that 'he wasn't a soldier, he was just doing his job like a normal human being'.
While you trusted him, you realized that the former suggestion resonated with you in a way that you couldn't quite comprehend at first. Maybe it was distasteful to think about his absence that way, considering that greed and gluttony would be the only real threats to his well being while on tour, but the lack of him made you feel like a military widow nonetheless. In a way, you were sharing him with an entire nation, multiple ones even, all waiting for him to offer guidance to his community. The parallel probably didn't make any sense, but it gave you a purpose.
That's why a cherry tart was in the fridge, Nick Drake was softly singing from the record player and you were now sitting facing the windows with wet hair and red lipstick on, waiting for him to turn up. A silly little routine maybe, but comforting, something that generations of awaiting women before you probably had done, the anxiety of being nice and put together for the man you love.
Suddenly your train of thought is cut off at the shower of light that fills the room. It's a sudden flash, the rays filtering through the blinds and painting your face striped before the glow of his low beams curves slightly and then dies on the driveway, replaced by a quick splash of orange.
You could recognize it anywhere.
It's like experiencing the beginning of the universe, like discovering that life exists outside these four walls, a big bang happening just outside the windows, giving you a world to finally live in. You slowly get up, counting down the twenty seconds it will take for your Adam to reach his garden of Eden.
His silhouette finally fills the glass door frame, standing straight to watch yours behind the frosted barrier. He pushes the handle and finally he’s in front of you, the first man to ever exist. It’s routine now, his hand coming behind your back to push you towards him and then coming to your waist, grabbing at the fabric of your white nightgown and crinkling it with his tan fingers, the other hand still on the handle, his lips coming down to leave a butterfly-weighted kiss at the corner of your upper lip, the gesture so delicate it could have been the night breeze.
Soon you’re in bed, the white cotton covering you giving the appearance of innocence, contrasting widely with the man kneeled at the foot of the mattress. He looks like sex personified. He has discarded his shirt on his way to the bedroom, following the flowy nightgown up the stairs, and he is now unbuckling his belt with one hand, the other keeping your foot in place, caressing the ankle with his middle finger. Without the support of the leather strip his dress pants fall just a little lower on his hips, gracing you with the spectacle of his ‘v’ shaped abdomen and his rose tattoo. You don’t dare move just yet, enjoying the way he naturally takes the lead. He unbuttons his slacks, standing up to undress himself completely, half-lidded eyes never leaving your figure. He then crawls over, lifting the nightgown just above your belly button, littering your stomach with small, wet kisses, lingering on your pelvis before crashing his tongue flat against your cunt. He caresses your thighs while he eats you out, slowly lifting your legs to circle his head with, clamping around his ears, the tips of his fingers barely grazing upon the skin, agonizingly ticklish. He slowly trails two of his fingers down and into you, curling into your sweet spot with surgical precision while his lips suck on your clit with unrelenting eagerness. You are panting furiously, swears cascading off your lips with ease and mixing with pleads of his name but he suddenly stops, raising his head just enough so that his breath is still teasing your core.
‘You need you to be a little bit louder princess, I can’t hear your sweet moans with the way you’re crushing my skull’
You desperately nod, anything to have him back there and, just as a little aid, you slide your legs down to his throat, choking him slightly and eliciting a deep groan out of him. He instantly resumes with flickers of his tongue, making sure to maintain eye contact with you while you reach your high again. You cross your ankles on his back,tightening the grip around him and cutting his blood flow just a tad more; he takes the hint, increasing the rhythm of his fingers until you’re cumming on his face, completely enveloping him for good with your limbs, his name reverberating in the air like a sinful litany.
He climbs your body in a couple of swift moves and now you’re face to face, his wet, swollen lips brushing yours, his breath hot against your cheeks. He looks quite a state. Unruly curls, sunken cheekbones, a rosy flush across his neck.
‘Welcome back, baby’
He chuckles darkly, his erection twitching against your thigh, pressing into your flesh through his boxer in search of relief. You slide your hand across his chest, almost feeling his ribs. You’d love to tear him apart just to count them, just to make sure that you haven’t dreamt it: there’s a missing one. God, if he exists, made you out of it, out of him. Maybe that’s why you’re always trying to be as close as possible to one another.
He does just so, after peeling the last piece of clothing off himself, sliding inside of you like he hadn’t left in the first place. He starts moving slowly, standing a little straighter to watch you squirm and whine.
‘What’s wrong baby? Do you want me to stop?’ He coos. He knows exactly what you want, the condescending tone not helping your situation.
‘Need- need to feel you better’
‘Is that so, princess? Did I make you too wet? Let you make it up to you, yeah?’
He finally undresses you completely, crumpling the nightgown in his hands, bottoming out completely and wiping your cunt, the friction causing a small moan out of you.
When he finally thrusts into you again, the burn is so delicious you can feel your eyes roll into your skull.
‘Is that better baby? You’re such a dirty fuck doll, so eager for this dick that you want it to feel it split you open’
You choke out a broken moan, fire licking up your limbs and feeding the warm feeling in your lower stomach.
‘Answer me princess, don’t be shy’
‘Y-Yeah I am Matty, fuck’
His thrusts get faster as a way to reward you, the effort making his smirk fade in favour of a much more fucked out expression. He’s on the edge as much as you. You can feel the pleasure reaching an impossible level of tightness in your stomach and you grab his forearm with your hand in anticipation, fingernails planting into his tattoos.
‘Keep looking at me when you cum on my cock kitten’
Matty’s request sounds more like an order you can barely follow when your orgasm actually hits you, eyelids fluttering and hands scratching his tense back, your legs twitching like a shock wave had just hit you. Matty does his best to ground you, his hands keeping your hips glued to the mattress while he keeps fucking into you.
‘Matty you can’t anymore, ‘m too overstimulated’
He coos at you, sweetly condescending, your whispered pleas almost amusing him.
‘Yes you can, baby. Just a bit more, okay? I’ll cum with you, promise’
You nod your head the best you can, feeling the tension starting to rise again when he starts to gently rub at your clit with his thumb, leaning to cover your cheeks with small kisses that contrast with his frantic thrusts.
‘Where do you want me, princess?’
It’s a rhetorical question, you both know it, but you don’t seem to be able to answer him. Even with your mouth agape, air isn’t filling your lungs, and you can only trust him to understand you when you trail a hand down to your lower stomach, resting it on the spot where you can feel the head of his cock hitting.
He smirks down at you, his expression scrunching up a second later when he feels you clenching around him.
‘I’ll fill you up good, kitten, don’t worry about it, you just have to let go. Wanna feel you milking my cock for what it’s worth’
His words finally make you crumble a second time, tears brimming your eyes while he fucks you through your orgasm until he is on the brink too, admiring your fucked out expression before releasing inside of you.
He rolls off of you, his arms coming to cradle your head while you try to regain your breathing rhythm.
‘I’m never gonna leave again’
You chuckle and slap his heaving chest.
‘You will, but I’ll wait for you. All that I do is wait for you.’
#matty healy#matty healy blurb#matty healy x reader#matty healy fanfiction#matty healy oneshot#the 1975
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I Wanna Be Where... - J.Yunho
Tags/Warning: Absolute fluff, dad!Yunho, mentions of pregnancy/periods, no gendered terms for reader, reader has a uterus, very little editing lmao, this was inspired by a tiktok I saw!
Word Count: 1.7k
Playlist:
“Cute” by Prod by Rose
“Part of Your World” by Halle Bailey
You and Jeong Yunho would consider yourselves very lucky people.
You married your soulmate. Someone who understood you and communicated with you well. He could read you better than anyone and knew you better than you sometimes knew yourself. He made sure to look after you, even if you struggled to look after yourself. Made sure to bring you water if he noticed you hadn’t been drinking enough. Offered to grab you a snack if you had been busy for a while. You didn’t have to tell him if you were stressed out with something - he would already be giving you a kiss on the cheek and a gentle smile, letting you know how much he loved you and how he knows that “you’ve got this.”
Yunho knew you were the only one for him. You held him close to your heart on the nights when everything felt a bit too overwhelming for him. When work became overbearing, and he needed an escape, you were that. You were there to bring a smile to his face no matter what. You gave him real and honest advice that he needed to hear. Told him when he was pushing himself too far, and to give himself a break. Accepted his hand when he offered you to sway to the light music playing from his record player.
You both felt so lucky to be gifted with two beautiful daughters. Your six-year-old, Jieun, was almost identical to her father. Her smile and her energy completely matched your husband, not to mention her squishy cheeks. She was a complete surprise when you realized your period had not come after a month, but both Yunho and you were ecstatic to meet her.
And your four-year-old, Daeun, was your tiny twin. She had your eyes, lips, and ears, but Yunho’s nose, something she shared with her older sister. She was a bit quieter than Jieun, preferring to draw more often than not, but enjoyed playing with her and their shared toys. And there was one specific thing that would always tie them together.
When the new Ariel movie came out, your daughters begged and pleaded for you to take them both. She was their favorite Disney princess, having watched the original cartoon roughly over a dozen times in the past year. When the new live-action movie was announced, they jumped in excitement, wanting to see Ariel in person.
It was a complete shame and disappointed them both, however, that both Yunho and you had been completely busy for the entire month the movie came out. Yunho had been training for work, preparing for another comeback. Your job had overloaded you with assignments that you ended up having to take home, staying up a bit later than usual to work and finalize them. It absolutely broke your heart to see both of your sweet girls upset. And it got you to muster up a plan on how to give them a little treat.
After putting your girls to sleep one night, you laid back in bed with your husband as he read a book he had been trying to get you interested in.
“Love?” You poked his cheek to draw his attention, to which he immediately turned to you and put his bookmark on the page he was at, setting the book on his nightstand.
“Yes, baby?”
“I think we should have a little family movie night with the girls,” you smiled, grabbing his hand once it was free. He hummed, a small smile gracing his face.
“I think that would be cool, love. We haven’t really had time together as a family, I suppose.”
“No, not really. And they were really looking forward to seeing the new Ariel movie. I figured that since you have off tomorrow, I can maybe call in sick, and while the girls are at school we can set up the house for a full movie night. Maybe move the furniture around a bit, I can cook up some snacks themed around Ariel or the ocean in general, and we all just hang out together.”
Yunho watched you as you spoke excitedly, with such passion in your eyes, talking about putting together something that would mean so much to your daughters. It always made him fall even deeper in love with you, knowing how much affection you held for your shared family. It was evident in how you had planned out this entire project.
You looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to say something. Instead, his smile grew wider, and he grabbed the side of your face to bring you in for a kiss. It took you by surprise, but you would never deny the warmth of his lips. When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead on yours, looking into your eyes.
“You are so amazing. And I know our daughters are absolutely going to love this.”
Warmth filled your chest at his words, and you threw your arms around his neck to give him a tight hug.
—
You held Yunho’s hand that rested on your leg as you smiled giddily, watching as kids piled into the cars and buses. Your heart beat fast, excited to have your daughters in the car and surprise them with your husband’s presence. Usually, it would only be you picking them up after work, but with his day off he was able to drive with you to get them, and you knew it would shock them as neither of you told them about his free day. So as your car pulled up close to the sidewalk, the girls mindlessly hopped in, they laughed and jumped up to give him a hug around the neck.
“Appa! You’re here!” Jieun smiled with a toothy grin, eyes sparkling at him as she buckled Daeun in first before herself.
“Yes, sweetheart, I had a day off and wanted to spend it completely with the best people I know.” He grinned, looking at her through the rearview mirror to ensure they were both settled before shifting the car back into drive. You admired your husband’s features; how much he lit up when it came to his babies. He fell into the dad role so effortlessly when Jieun was born. Of course, he had his worries, but they passed as he learned his way around raising two girls, just as you had. To him, you and your two daughters were his entire world, no question about it.
“Girls,” you turned around in your seat to look at your daughters. “Since Appa is off today, we were thinking about having a fun day in. We have a very special surprise for you both when we get home. What do you both think?” You watched as both their eyes widened at the promise of a surprise, and they nodded their heads in agreeance with your offer. It made your chest warm inside, seeing your girls so happy.
When you four finally got home, you walked your girls to the front door before stopping them from barreling inside. You squatted down until you were their height, holding both their hands.
“Okay, loves. I told you it was a surprise, so what I need you both to do is put your hands over your eyes. And don’t peek!” Your playful tone made them grin, and Jieun gave you a thumbs-up before they both covered their eyes. You stood back to your full height, looking at your husband as he unlocked the door, holding Jieun’s shoulders to help guide her as you had Daeun.
You had them kick off their shoes at the front door and maneuvered them around the furniture until they stood right in the middle of the living room. You looked at your husband before nodding at him.
“Alright girls, you can look.”
And as you watched as their hands fell from their faces, you knew that this is truly where you were meant to be.
Their eyes widened impossibly big as their mouths dropped in shock.
The projector placed carefully behind them cast the title screen for the movie onto a bare wall, and as your husband grabbed the remote to unmute it, “Part of Your World” started to play through. The girls looked around at how the couches were moved, making a semi-fortress filled with blankets.
On the kitchen island, an assortment of foods were spread out. Blue jello dessert with gummy sharks and crabs in it, sand made from crumbled-up graham crackers that had rock candy littered in it, sandwiches cut up to create dolphin shapes, and a big fruit tray meticulously ordered to look like a big turtle. Blue and green Koolaid filled two pitchers, and their favorite cups were set out waiting for them.
Daeun started jumping up and down squealing, something you had never heard from her before. Jieun dropped her backpack off her shoulders and ran to give your waist a hug. You patted her hair and leaned down to kiss the crown of her head. She then peeled away from you to run to her father’s waiting arms, getting picked up and twirled around by him. Daeun came up to you next, holding her hands up at you, waiting to be picked up. You let out a gentle laugh before grabbing her up and giving her kisses on her cheek.
“Why don’t the two of you go get changed into your Ariel dresses and we can then all eat and watch the movie together, yea?” Daeun nodded as you set her down, running to follow Jieun as they went to their shared bedroom to change.
Yunho looked back at you as you looked at the hallway fondly, heart feeling so full at being able to do something that makes your daughters so happy. He walked over, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into him. The smell of his cologne washed over you, and you both gently swayed to the song as he sang along to it.
And at that moment, hearing your husband’s voice, hearing your daughters’ excited laughs as they run back out to jump on the couch that you had pushed together, you realized this was where you wanted to be. Right where your people were.
---
This was written by @/ro-written and is not to be plagiarized, translated, or distributed anywhere else. Copyright 2023.
All comments, reblogs, and likes are always welcome!
#ateez#ateez x reader#ateez fluff#ateez fanfic#yunho#ateez yunho#jeong yunho#jeong yunho x reader#jeong yunho fanfic#jeong yunho imagines#jeong yunho scenarios#jeong yunho fluff#yunho x reader#yunho imagines#yunho fluff#dad!yunho#dad!ateez#dad!jeong yunho
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Unexpected Waltz
Fandom: Trigun
Pairing: Millions Knives x Reader
Other Characters: None
Notes: So ummm... Hi!!! I’ve been quiet on this blog for a while because I’ve been hemming and hawing about whether I want to keep participating in this community with others (I haven’t had a whole lot of good experiences tbh) but... I decided to whip up a little Knives x Reader for old time’s sake. Please enjoy! Also, this song inspired the title and general feel.
Word count: 921
Warnings: None, just some dancing and a semi-established relationship. And maybe very slightly out of character Knives but this is my house and I get to decide how Knives talks.
[Also crossposted to AO3!]
“I see no point to the task of dancing.”
Millions Knives, the Plant who was forever unconvinced that there was any substance to be taken from extraneous activities and pastimes of humans. And you, the human who loved him and desperately wanted him to do something nice with you.
You knew there’d be a rift between your worlds the moment you met him, regardless of whether that led to a relationship or not. Knives was just so convinced that he was different that he couldn’t fathom partaking in any sort of human activity.
Which, at first, you didn’t really mind–you wouldn’t push him, and he wouldn’t push you. Most of the time.But today, you really wanted to dance with him. Everything felt right, but he stayed stiff as a board on the other side of the room, arms crossed as crackly music came from the record player.
“Come on,” you huffed, mirroring his pout. “Just one little dance won’t kill you, you know.”
“Waste of energy,” Knives added. “Waste of time. All of it, a waste.”
“You said the same thing about kissing and hugging and cuddling at night.”
“And I’m still right,” he snided. “But it’s beneficial to you. That kind of contact releases oxycontin, a critical chemical for your wellbeing.”
“And you don’t feel even a little nice when we do it?”
Knives closed his eyes and refused to answer.
“Well. Dancing feels good, for one. It’s nice to move your body in a rhythmic fashion.” You spun around a little. “Humans have developed a multitude of dancing styles, both for music and without music. Some dances are sacred and used to tell stories, while others are just for fun.”
“...So it’s important.” He was looking away, but had a slight quirk to his lip that could imply a smile–the I’m-not-interested-but-since-it’s-with-you-and-I-like-you smile.
“To me, at least.” You held out a hand. “Will you at least try it? Just once?”
Something he’d heard a lot. When you urged him to take a bite of your cooking, or to draw on some scrap paper, or read a book that wasn’t another tome full of boring nonsense. And every time, he’d groan and lament about how you were expecting too much out of his greatness, how he shouldn’t bother with these things–but he’d still do them, so who was the real winner?
Both of you, actually. He just refused to admit that he’d both lost and won.
After a moment of hesitation, he approached, putting his hand in yours. Ever so gently.
That was the one far cry of the Knives that stayed in your house and laid in your bed from the one that used to be in the elements of the desert–he was gentle in most everything he did, despite his cruelty before, despite the harshness in his words. Maybe he knew that you were human and mortal, and you could only handle a mere fraction of his power before snapping. Maybe he really didn’t want you to break, because he finally found someone who could hear him.
Maybe he didn’t want to be alone.
You placed his hand on your shoulder, reaching the matching one on your side to his hip (his shoulder was far too high to hold comfortably) and interlacing fingers on the other side.
“I’ll lead us, okay?” You were alright with dancing–not an expert, but not completely clueless, either. A simple step would be fine.
“...Alright.” Knives usually hated relinquishing control, but he had extremely barebones dancing skills, if any at all, and didn’t want to step on your toes. Literally or figuratively.
Slowly, you moved your feet to the beat of the music, letting Knives follow in your footsteps. He was able to pick up the rhythm easily, though he was primarily just copying what you were doing. You took him around the room, spinning gently, watching his unmoving expression as he stared at you. There was a slight gleam in his eye–the gleam of I-like-you-but-I’m-trying-not-to-show-it.
As the music continued, you pulled away from him slightly, twirling yourself around his arm. He seemed a bit confused, but your smile was enough for him to allow this to happen. There was a certain warmth in his chest that came from his hand on your shoulder, your hand on his waist, and the other hands intertwined to the side. It felt nice, as much as he loathed to admit it. Knives almost wanted the music to last forever, but it was coming to an end.
“I’m gonna dip you!” You said, bracing your hand behind his waist.
Knives sort of knew this move. He wanted to make some kind of remark, one along the lines of you won’t be able to hold me up, but his body reacted before he made up his mind. He fell backwards, letting you keep him close with one arm. You still strained against his weight–how can one man be so dense, you wondered–but were able to hold the move for a few seconds until the needle bumped itself off the record, music stopping.
Knives stood up, partially taking you with him as you slid off of him.
“Well? What did you think?” You asked, grinning up at him.
Knives huffed out of his nose, then replied. “It… Wasn’t that bad. But don’t expect me to do it again.”
The tiniest smile formed on his face as he turned away. I want to do it again so badly! Please dance with me again!
You knew him too well by now.
#galactifics#trigun x reader#reader insert#trigun imagines#millions knives x reader#knives x reader#those tags should be sufficient. now EAT#text#oh and feel free to send me an ask if you want...? maybe...? i'd love to try interacting with the community more i don't bite i prommy
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UMMM UM I'M SORRY TO DO THIS BUT UHH
HOBIE x SPIRITUAL!OC
HOBIE X BLACK!OC THAT'S LIKE ERYKAH BADU
Do you see it do you see it
Like an incense-burning super-calm natured, grounded, centered black sista
They both have natural hair she compliments him on all the time. In fact, it was one of the first things she said to him - and it stuck with Hobie. Hardly anyone compliments his hair - that like that.
To others, his hair 'interesting' or at most 'stylish'. But he's never had someone call his hair beautiful, or healthy, or inspiring.
She's like 'brotha you need to put me onto what you're on' because seeing Hobie with hair so free and thriving in the world is something so rare and valuable
And her saying that sticks with him so much.
She talks JUST as cryptically as he does.
Most of the things she says are almost phrased like poems. Always dropping little nuggets of knowledge about spirit and racism and balance
Lots of time she'll make references to poems, of quote lines of books from black female writers like Maya Angelou.
She sees him after a long day, telling him 'Look at you, giving a caged bird a reason to sing'
Their conversations sound confusing as FUCK. Hobie and her are always talking in metaphors and making jokes referencing leftist thinkers
They're very into black love.
They bond over literature written by black anti-apartheid thinkers in South Africa, she teaches him how to celebrate Kwanzaa - after Hobie spent years ignoring the holidays (bad memories)
She probably plays the guitar or the bass, but her music is the opposite of his. Hers is the 'smoke sesh' type of slow lofi. Full of hypnotic soothing cards and whisper vocals. Just a politically charged, just as socially concious
She's a lot more spiritual than him, and it's something he has to get used to.
It takes him a bit.
She's ALWAYS burning incense. She'll tuck one behind her air and forget about it, she only wears Earth and jewel tones.
Her house is stacked high with nonfiction books, and she's the only one who can make his cup of tea better than he can - she even got him into green tea. Now he knows what oolong is. What the hell
Sure she makes him take off his boats EVERYTIME he comes over - and was horrified the first time he just walked up in her place with them on - he's still over there all the time.
It's one place he knows he can find calm, or feel safe.
To be honest, she's probably not into his music too much.
She's not into the big crowds and big speakers and drinking at the venues.
She loves hearing HIM play. She doesn't need the bright lights or vocalists or drummers or any of it at all-
Instead she'll just sit on the floor of his boathouse, barefoot and criss cross as she watches him strum away.
And she ADORES when he plays accoustic - something he'll do exclusively for her
The DYNAMIC THE DYNAMIC OKAY
She's not a Spider person. She's a helper in this world too, but she'd rather be a healer than a hero.
It's how she keeps her peace. She's a lot more quiet and soft-spoken than him, but not because she's shy. She's just chilling. Fully committed to never letting no one stress her over NOTHING
Half the time Hobie will be joking or messing or playfully teasing her and she'll be like 'Boy, stop stressing me out.'
And when he's pushed to the edge, full of anger and bitterness and resent at the world, at what they're forced to, by the responsibility he carriers - she's always there to rub circles into his shoulders, putting a record on the player as she fixes them some tea.
He doesn't believe in all that mystic shit, not that much.
The first time he went to her place he raised an eyebrow, asking about her supposed 'rock collection'.
'Those are crystals.'
She explains what they are, and why she keeps them. How she uses them in her spiritual work. He thinks it's a load of bullocks.
Does he actually think this hunk of clear rock is going to 'purify' anything in a world like theirs? NO.
He won't say it, but she can read his vibes like a book.
But she explains that - regardless of all that - most of her crystals were taken from the motherland. And that she's happy having them, it's a way to reclaim a bit of the land they all were taken from.
When he asks what the hell is motherland is she's like
'Africa, Hobie.'
They have some interesting conversations. They were the world VERY VERY differently, but they always see eye-to-eye eventually.
He may not believe in it, but he believes in her.
And when he's at the end of his rope, coming to get place beat to hell and back - and she puts on that incense, the sound of her music hypnotic and sedative - he can't help but feel like he's lost in that world with her.
Hobie believes in anarchy, in all things. He'd love to think that the universe has it all figured out, that everything is in perfect balance as is - but he's not buying it.
And yet sometimes she seems so sure, and so grounded, that he can't help but fall back on her. And she's okay with it, that's what she's there for.
She's happy to exist in silence with him, quietly teaching him the difference between Frankincense and Myrrh incense, the historical uses and how to tell the difference.
She gives him small gifts if things she's made - Florida Water (the spiritual cologne not literal Florida water 😭) for him to use as protection, a cowrie shell bracelet, herbal tea blends made by hand.
She sews up holes in his vest or suit, humming quietly as he lays on the floor, soul food cooking on the stove
DO YOU FEEL THE VIBES DO YOU DO YOU
He's fire and brimstone and loud guitar solos. She's wind and earth, and meditation sessions. She's not a pacifist and she doesn't judge
Despite being two very different people, who approach life in two very different ways, they still find themselves on the same path of wanting to help people
HOBIE AND A SPIRITUAL SISTA. HOBIE AND A BLACK!HIPPIE!READER. PLEASE. I BEG OF YOU.
LET HOBIE FIND PEACE
#imma be real this is COMPLETELY me projecting#like im one step below astral projecting right now with how hard I'm going 😭#I love spiritual shit I llve Erykah Badu#alright I'm out *leaves to go light incense*#Diane probably grows more to be like this after years of them being together but she's still a LOT more dazzly and not calm at all#spiderman#atsv#spider man#marvel#across the spiderverse#hobie brown#spider punk#spiderpunk#Hobie brown x oc#hobie x oc
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Hello, I started reading your headcanons and I really liked it! Could you make a headcanon kyogai x reader where the reader draws really well and uses his stories as inspiration?
Kyogai [X Reader]
In which Kyogai finds out his s/o uses his writing as inspiration for their drawings.
One of his favourite things about you was your initiative
After you had both discovered your sharing of passions and went out with one another, you started by making a shared studio for your work
It was different from the others, in that it was nearly impossible to find and was literest with art and writing supplies, walls plastered in drawings and poems, stroke patterns, dictionaries in piles and sketchbooks by the bundle
There's a record player, with a wooden crate of records you'd collect whenever you went out and found something interesting, most of it was ambiance so Kyogai could focus while writing
Most the time, though, it was just you in there- most often using watercolours to paint beautiful portraits of the people you'd seen near the house, or while on outings
You knew very well most these people no longer existed, so you made them as a final salute to their life
This usually happened when Kyogai was in, since that was when you'd see them most recently
But when Kyogai was out hunting for something more of a delicacy, or luring weak minded individuals in, you'd sort though his recent poems and begin doodling absentmindedly
Soon you’d start to clip the papers together, and hide them in your desk
Some were scenes described in the text, some were what you imagined a book cover to it would resemble, sometimes it was a person in the media
He would only question it happening when he noticed some of his poems were missing when he would try to rewrite them
When you had your back turned, he decided to see if you were trying to pull a joke on him, and found the piles upon piles of gorgeous illustrations, dated to nearly every day in the last year, all with the matching poem
He'll put them back and hope his nails didn't leave any indicators, and hopes that if he says nothing you'll continue!
But when you go out to buy more supplies or food, he'll open up the drawer and pay closer attention to all the fine details
It makes him feel like his writing actually means something
Authors Note - Oh I am so so glad you enjoy my headcanons! Thank you so much for requestion, Anon! Especially Kyogai, he is one of my favourites so I adore adding to his pile of works <3
#kyogai#kyogai x reader#demon slayer#demon slayer x reader#demon slayer headcanons#headcanons#kny headcanons#kny x reader#kny#x reader#reader insert#kimetsu no yaiba#kimetsu no yaiba x reader
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darlin', darlin'
This was an anniversary present for my wonderful gf @nb-fearne. We both wrote each other icemav fics inspired by Jerry Maguire scenes so if that doesn't tell you why we've been together for six years, nothing will. Love you baby 💙
Please reblog and go leave a comment on Ao3 if you liked this!
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As far as weddings that weren’t weddings went, Tom thought it had gone pretty well.
All day long and well into the night, their little house had been full of noise, laughter and music and clinking glasses. But now the record on their old player had finally wound down and no one was replacing it. The plates and glasses were piled up on nearly every flat surface and all the guests had staggered home. Expect for a handful who hadn’t made it past the couches.
Tom was hardly surprised, he even came prepared. He moved through the living room as quietly as he could, arms full of the blankets he’d set aside, dodging abandoned wine glasses and kicked off high heels to cover the snoozing Kerner twins, their mother who was slumped over the arm of the couch, her hand stretched out to loosely entwine with Slider’s, who looked like he’d fallen from a great height to collapse in Ice’s armchair. One for his sister, Sarah, whose face looked less like his own when it was gentle and relaxed in sleep, though she curled up in the same tight ball he did. Another for Carole, curled up on the floor in a tight little ball, her head pillowed on Alice Kerner’s jacket and one arm draped with a natural protectiveness over little Bradley.
Sundresses instead of gowns, linen shirts and jeans instead of suits and definitely instead of navy whites, a room full of exhausted parents spending what was left of the morning sleeping off cheap beer rather than a lavish hotel. Their wedding that wasn’t a wedding and it had very little of the things that made an actual wedding.
But Tom wouldn’t have traded it for anything.
Once their guests were as comfortable as he could make them, he whipped around and gathered as much cutlery and glassware as he could carry without dropping it and undoing all the hard work he and the booze and food had done. It wasn’t far to their tiny little kitchen where he was a little unsurprised to find his new sort of husband with his shirt sleeves pushed up to his elbows, wrist deep in dish suds. He’d promised to be on his best behavior after all.
Maverick caught the movement in the corner of his eye and turned with that brilliant smile, not even dimmed with how long he'd been awake, “Hey, baby. Everyone out for the count in there?”
Like always, Ice couldn’t keep from smiling back if his life had depended on it, “Quietest I’ve ever seen those Kerner girls. And that includes Alice.”
“If I ever want you dead, I’ll tell her you said that,” Mav winked, “Come on, stick those dishes in here, I’ll do them.”
Tom did, moving to grab a dish towel instead, ready to do his part. He nodded towards the water and chuckled, “Don’t lose your ring in there, you only just got it.”
“Thought of that!” Maverick lit up like a school kid with the right answer, catching his dog tags on one sudsy thumb and showing off his wedding ring, dangling there on the chain alongside the steel stamped with his name.
Ice beamed, leaning and pressing a kiss to his cheek, “Smart and pretty. Good thing I locked you down when I did, Mitchell.”
Mav nudged him with his hip, grinning, “I’m basically the whole package…I was thinking I could maybe keep it on there? Say it was my mother’s if anyone asks?”
Tom fought for his smile to stay in place, to keep the sudden pain confined to his own rib cage. Everything he knew told him even that small lie, that wink and nod, was too much. It was skirting far too close to the lines he’d drawn around parts of himself. Tom had been planning to keep his own ring well out of sight, he was wearing it today but after that it was going in the same box he kept all his precious weak points- his babushka’s recipe book, sheet music done in his mother’s shaky hand, the drawing his sister Sarah had done in preschool when she’d been asked to draw her family and had only done the two of them, side by side. In Tom’s mind, hiding was safe. Hiding was the only way.
But that fear was his own and Tom was determined to keep it that way. He wouldn’t clip Mav’s wings, certainly not today.
“That would be sweet,” was all he said, kissing his cheek again because he just had no other answer to Maverick’s reckless bravery, “Come on, we should really get these dishes done before we go to the airport…”
Mav laughed, “So we’re just giving up on the idea of going to bed, huh?”
Tom waved his hands, indicating the clock on the wall, the rising sun outside and the living room full of sleeping friends in one swoop, “I’ll owe you a wedding night.”
“Hey,” Mav’s eyes softened and he nudged him again, “We’ve got every night for the rest of our lives, baby. I’m easy.”
And they really did. The words they’d said to each other, out there in their tiny backyard with the ocean rolling behind them, didn't mean anything legal and Tom had little faith they ever would. There were no contracts or documents to back up that ring hanging there alongside Mav’s dog tags. But like Maverick himself had said, when they’d come up with this a month ago, curled up together in a tangle of blankets and limbs and crazy ideas, a wedding was just a party. You got everyone you loved in one room, or at least as many as you could, and you told them all hey, I’m nuts about this guy and I want to be with him forever. If the government was honestly happy for them to risk their lives but not while openly loving each other, then they- in Maverick’s words- could go fuck themselves. They weren’t getting an invite.
Tom didn’t need Mav to write his name on a piece of paper to know he loved him. He trusted his wingman.
Suddenly, getting the dishes done didn’t seem all that important. The old record player was still sitting in the corner, half covered under the bomber jacket Maverick had thrown aside after enough dancing to flush his cheeks. But he knew the disc he wanted wouldn’t be in the pile stacked up next to it, threatening to topple over and slide onto the tile. Those were all party tunes, songs from their teenage years they were dragging into this new decade, songs for Slider to pick Alice up and swing her around to, songs for little Bradley to bounce around to with his mama’s hands in his own. But Tom wanted something slightly different.
“Thanks for your support!” Mav called out sarcastically as he watched him disappear into the hall where the shelves of books and CDs and vinyls were neatly arranged by type then genre then color.
By Tom, naturally. He’d once caught Mav putting a CD in the wrong case just because it happened to be closer. And somehow he’d married him.
“Something occurred to me,” Tom said airily, coming back with the record he wanted, setting it into the player before Mav could see what it was. They had it on CD too but Tom would always prefer the way vinyls crackled, “Besides, Slider can do the dishes when he wakes up. I’m mad at him for that speech.”
“Because he made you cry?” Mav smirked, wiping off his hands.
“Maybe,” Tom grunted, gently setting the needle down.
“I thought it was adorable…so what occurred to you?”
After that static scratch and pop, there was that smooth, rhythmic plucking of strings, like the notes were going down a set of stairs, accompanied by those bright, happy barks of brass. Stand by Me, the original Ben E. King version naturally, Mrs Rosie Mitchell’s favorite and the one of the many soul tracks that had scored Maverick’s childhood. One of the ones he claimed to have gotten sick of but he’d still always reach for when he was given the chance.
Tom turned and offered out his hand, “We never got a first dance?”
And it was true, after they’d said whatever they wanted to say to each other out there in the yard, after Slider’s best man speech had made Tom cry and Carole’s had made Maverick laugh so hard he blew champagne out of his nose, they’d all just piled back inside to drink and dance and sing. It had been a brilliantly hectic whirlwind since then, this was probably the first time Tom and Mav had been alone since they’d kissed under the rosewood tree out back.
But this was one part of a traditional wedding Tom thought he’d like to have. And if the smile on his face was anything to go by, Pete agreed.
Two steps brought Maverick into his arms, just as the words began. He placed a hand on the small of his back, the other joined with his husband’s in a loose hold. Neither of them were really dancers, they couldn’t manage more than a simple step and sway without their legs getting tangled or knocking into the counter, but that hardly mattered. As Ben E. King sang about how he wouldn’t be afraid, the golden sunrise painted the two of them into a Klimt, into something more than beautiful. Something that didn’t need to be seen to know how precious it was.
Tom found himself humming along without even realizing, formless sounds that became words as his heart ran away and left his usual nerves behind, as Mav’s hair tickling his nose and their fingers threading together became much more important than how he sounded. Maverick beamed and tucked his head in against his husband’s chest, so he could feel the words as well as hear them. He always insisted he loved his husband’s voice, as hard as Tom found it to believe, always asking him to sing for him when he was feeling under the weather or in the quiet moments when that incessant Maverick branded energy finally wound down and he became soft and clingy. One of those things Tom was prepared to do for Maverick and only Maverick.
And he sang for him now, gladly, not caring that his voice was rough with beer and the lack of sleep or that he dropped out of lines to kiss Mav’s forehead. There were so many things Tom struggled to say, simply because he hadn’t been taught they existed, let alone how to put them into words. So he sang them instead, he rubbed small circles into the small of Mav’s back instead. And he trusted his husband would hear them all the same.
Tom didn’t quite know what he was going to do when the song finally ended. Of course it said something about him that he was here in this warm, loving moment and already worrying about when it would end but Tom wasn’t about to linger on that. Not on his wedding day.
But as he was inhaling the amber smell of Mav’s cologne and that edge of jet fuel he never seemed to lose, as he was singing in his rough rumble to ask him to stand by him whenever they were in trouble, there was the sound of footsteps. Footsteps that weren’t swaying over slightly cracking linoleum.
Tom lifted his head, chuckling as he watched a tuft of blonde, curly hair waver behind the counter like a submarine periscope.
“Mr Bradley Bradshaw, you have not slept long enough to be on your feet,” he laughed, watching the tuft come to a guilty stop.
A set of blue eyes peered up over the edge of the counter, “Sun’s up!”
“The sun may be up but you went to bed at three in the morning,” Maverick snorted with laughter, peeking up at him in a similar way over Tom’s shoulder.
Bradley’s gap toothed smile followed his eyes, “I can’t sleep…”
Tom kissed Mav’s cheek and let him go with some reluctance, going to lean on the counter so he could see the kid grinning up at him, wobbling on his tiptoes. His hair was a cloud of curls, so blonde in the sunlight that they seemed white, like he was wearing a halo along with crumpled overalls and striped socks.
“How about your mama, is she still asleep?”
Bradley nodded, “I tucked her in!”
“You’re a good kid,” Tom reached across to pick him up, swinging him safely into his arms, his heart warming as Bradley laughed and clung to him.
“Whatcha doing?” his little fist grabbed for the chain of Tom’s dog tags like a reflex, the way he did with Mav too.
The way he’d probably done with Goose.
“We’re dancing,” Mav grinned, coming up and poking his cheek lightly, “It’s our wedding, you see.”
Bradley made a sleepy grab for his finger, “Nah…that was yesterday…now it’s today…”
“Well, that's the fun thing, you see,” Maverick could have pulled back easily but he let himself be caught in the toddler’s free hand, “After you have your wedding, you get to be married to that person forever and ever. And you get to dance in the kitchen every morning, if you feel like it.”
Tom could hear the record crackling as the needle scraped through empty valleys and came to a halt. He smiled.
“And you get to go on vacations together. Which we’re leaving for in a half hour and I’m guessing you haven’t packed yet?” he grinned at Maverick.
Mav did in fact blush lightly and laugh, “Yeah…I’ll go get on that…”
He gave Bradley a kiss on the cheek, Tom a longer one on the lips before heading off to the stairs, still whistling Stand By Me.
Bradley seemed to have no desire to get down from Tom’s arms, though maybe he wasn’t quite as awake as he thought, yawning against the shoulder of his dress shirt before mumbling, “Can I come on vacation?”
Tom chuckled, “I don’t think we’ll be doing anything you’d find fun, kiddo.”
In fact, he had very few plans when they got to the little rental on a Hawaiian beach, chosen mostly for its seclusion rather than its luxury, beyond closing the door, pressing Maverick into the bed and fucking him every which way he could think of. Maybe reading some poetry books while his husband caught his breath.
Bradley huffed softly, his grip tightening, “But you’ll be gone so long…gone forever…”
Tom held the kid a little tighter. He knew Bradley was too young to be so used to goodbyes, too young to know how ‘gone for a while’ could turn into ‘gone forever’. He pulled back so he could take Bradley’s hand in his own, helping him put up five fingers.
“This is how many days we’ll be gone, kid. And then we’ll come home. I promise.”
Bradley fluttered his five fingers, humming thoughtfully, “That’s not so many?”
Tom smiled, “Nah. We’ll be back before you know it and I’ll even bring you back something cool.”
“When you come back,” Bradley nodded, still clutching that thought like a talisman.
“When we come back,” Tom closed his little fist, holding it safe within his own so the promise held fast, “Everything we love is here.”
Bradley held onto that as Tom coaxed him back into his mama’s arms, back into the sleep which the toddler was clearly losing the fight to. He certainly seemed pleased as a still sleeping Carole wrapped her arms around him and brought him close, burying his face against her as Tom gently fixed the blanket back around them.
He took a moment to glance around the room again, making sure that everyone was sleeping soundly. The twins were still curled around each other like puppies, Alice and Slider’s fingers were still loosely threaded together like even crashed out on their friend’s couch, they were looking for each other. Tom smiled as he took his house key off the ring and left it by his RIO’s head.
By then, Maverick was waiting for him at the door, bags at his feet, whispering, “Ready to go?”
Tom grinned, lifting the man he loved right off his feet, muffling his soft noise of surprise with a searing kiss.
“I’m very ready.”
Carrying Maverick to the car, stealing kisses between half hearted protests and laughter, Tom took a brief glance back at the house, dark and silent now but full of everything and everyone he loved, the life that was hidden but safe for all that.
Maybe he didn’t have to be afraid of what would happen when the song ended.
Maybe Tom could just believe there would always be another.
#top gun#tg86#icemav#tom kazansky#iceman#pete mitchell#maverick#Bradley Bradshaw#rooster#fluff#please reblog and comment!
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Hariprasad Chaurasia, George Harrison, and Shivkumar Sharma, 1973; photographer unnamed, photo courtesy of hariprasadchaurasia dot com.
“George used to always say that if ever you are not feeling right, you should listen to Bob Dylan’s ‘Last Thoughts on Woody Guthrie’ and [Hariprasad Chaurasia, Shivkumar Sharma and Brij Bhushan Kabra’s] ‘Call of the Valley.’” - Olivia Harrison, The Hollywood Reporter, October 22, 2011
“‘Bhoop Ghara’ from Call of the Valley, recorded in 1967 by Shivkumar Sharma, Hariprasad Chaurasia and slide guitar player Brijbhusan Kabra, was ‘something George had on our juke box. We played it as a remedy in our home if you were feeling a certain way. Kabra was one of George’s heroes as a slide guitarist, up there with Ry Cooder,’ [Olivia explains].” - Songlines, June 2018
“[Ry Cooder] inspires me to try and play that [slide] better. At the same time, I’m into this Indian music and there’s a guy called Brijbushan Kabra who plays a guitar but he plays it like a lap steel, he lays it on his leg, and plays it with the slide on top, like, and restrung it and plays sort of groovy Indian stuff on it.” - George Harrison, Rockline, February 10, 1988
“[Hariprasad] Chaurasia’s face lights up as The Beatles guitarist and songwriter George Harrison’s name is mentioned. ‘We were very close friends, or, at least, that is what I believe. He used to come to India every year, especially to go to Vrindavan. And, whenever he came, he would come to my Bandra residence at times, with his then-girlfriend, Olivia. Every time we met, we used to play music together,’ says Chaurasia.
[...] ‘One of the best musicians I ever met, George loved Indian music and had a deep understanding of it. He made an attempt to learn the sitar, and though he played it for himself, he did not want to play it in front of an audience,’ says Chaurasia. When asked what Harrison was like as an individual, the maestro was quick with his response: ‘George was a great human being. He treated everyone equally, irrespective of his or her race or nationality. I remember George would always remove his shoes or chappals before entering anyone’s house,’ he says.
Harrison loved everything Indian — culture, traditions and food. 'So much so that he that he wanted to be born in India in his next life. He used to go to the Lord Krishna temple at Mathura, with his face covered with a shawl to avoid recognition. He enjoyed going to the temple alone and collecting prasadam. He loved listening to the dholak and the singing and dancing. His favorite place in India was Vrindavan and said that he could never find such an environment anywhere else in the world,’ says Chaurasia.” - The Week, February 17, 2018 (x)
#Hariprasad Chaurasia#Shivkumar Sharma#Brijbhusan Kabra#Bob Dylan#George Harrison#Last Thoughts On Woody Guthrie#Call Of The Valley#1973#George's jukebox feature#George and Olivia#Olivia Harrison#George and Bob Dylan#fits queue like a glove
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New Fiction Podcasts - 21st April
Their Final Moments
Audio Drama
Avery Lindon is troubled by lucid dreams and hallucinations. On the advice of his psychiatrist, he sets out to record each new dream for diagnostic purposes and a worrying pattern emerges. Every night, Avery finds himself in the body of another person and is forced to experience the events leading up to their death.
https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240409-01
RSS: https://feed.podbean.com/theirfinalmoments/feed.xml
https://storage.buzzsprout.com/meqts52cavwv2ai4rgidu9uxvlst?.jpg
The House That Shadows Built
Audio Book
The House That Shadows Built is a six part fiction podcast written and read by Joe Copplestone with an original soundtrack by composer Alix Lhoumeau. It's one story in six parts and combines elements of cyber-punk, satire and horror for fans of found footage films, JG Ballard, William Burroughs and Cronenberg. It's not suitable for kids or the faint hearted. In an a nameless city, a nameless narrator lives with their best friend ‘The Chewing Gum Kid’ on the very edge of modern society, squatting in deserted buildings and shoplifting for food. When the two of them discover and take over an abandoned cinema, we follow their transformation from scavenging outsiders to leaders of an underground counter culture movement but what starts as a radical experiment slowly descends into something much, much, darker. This is a dystopian mirror image of our world, a place of flickering screens, walls of video tapes and shifting shadows…
https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240410-01
RSS: https://feeds.buzzsprout.com/2319717.rss
Blades in Paradise
Audio RPG
In a world without fossil fuels, steam is the way of the future, or so they say in the city of Paradise. Join us in this TTRPG Actual Play of Blades in the Dark where the players are trying to make Paradise live up to its name- with crime.
https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240411-01
RSS: https://feeds.captivate.fm/blades-in-paradise/
Imagitopia
Audio Book
Welcome to Imagitopia, a world where imagination knows no bounds. Follow our heroes as they embark on epic quests to subvert tropes and battle magical, otherworldly forces. Imagitopia is a weekly fantasy fiction podcast and digital magazine produced by Android Press. We strive to transport our listeners and readers to new worlds and inspire them to create stories of their own. Become an Imaginarian and join us on our journey as we explore the limitless possibilities of fantasy.
https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240405-03
RSS: https://feeds.acast.com/public/shows/imagitopia
The 3’000 Year Long Lemon Ant War
Audio Book
Every week I bring to you a new chapter of my worldbuilding epic ”The 3’000 year long Lemon-Ant War”.I write for fun, but also with the hope that the story will with time gain such massive weight, lore and context that it will easily sit on any shelf next to the Holy Bible.
https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240409-02
RSS: https://feed.podbean.com/portellibooks/feed.xml
https://media.rss.com/actualplaybroadcast/20240410_080459_4e194865064c90a952b12fcc054c7af8.png
Actual Play Broadcast
Audio RPG
Actual Play Broadcast is an actual play podcast where we play various tabletop RPGs and all together have a good time. We are a collective of nerds with a passion for the RPG space and strive to share our love for the hobby with everyone.
https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240410-02
RSS: https://media.rss.com/actualplaybroadcast/feed.xml
L'Antre du Gnome
Audio Drama
Bienvenue dans L'Antre du Gnome, votre série audio de fantasy!
https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240412-01
RSS: https://feed.ausha.co/ggwGefvXqkEG
Det goda livet
Audio Drama
Vad är egentligen ett gott liv? För dig, idag? För dig, imorgon? Det goda livet är en fiktiv podcast som utspelar sig i framtiden. År 2050 har Europa blivit koldioxidneutralt. Skåne ska stå värd för världsutställningen 2055, på temat "Det goda livet". Som ett led i förberedelserna ger sig tre programledare ut i det skånska landskapet för att undersöka vad ett gott liv egentligen är; konstnären Esarosa, kändiskocken Enkido och den välrenommerade kulturjournalisten Johanna.
https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240405-04
RSS: https://anchor.fm/s/f476ded8/podcast/rss
Song of Fairies
Audio Drama
Half Fairy Snow fails to prove she has fairy powers and is cast out to the human world. She is set on a journey to find her human father and find her place in the world, but she is slowly losing control of her powers.
https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240413-01
RSS: https://feeds.libsyn.com/523488/rss
Resar Noir
Audio Book
Resar Noir is a podcast brought to you by Stephen Resar. This podcast is a collection of Stephen’s original short stories and mini-series that delve into dark fiction, espionage, investigation, crime, murder, the paranormal, hard-boiled detectives, and politics.
https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240414-01
RSS: https://feeds.buzzsprout.com/2343606.rss
The Scrying House
Audio Drama
A weekly fiction podcast examining the old Scrying House, a mirage in the trees that residents of Cape Flattery can only whisper about. Join Margot Knight and some unexpected guests as she attempts to discover the secret of her late grandmother's estate by uncovering the mountains of case files and notes left behind. But beware, as you listen someone (or something) else may be listening with you...
https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240416-01
RSS: https://feeds.acast.com/public/shows/scryinghouse
Twitchals Book 1: Dwindling Magic
Audio Book
Audiobook of a middle-grade cyber-mystery-fantasy novel by TDL White. It follows the adventures of Nick Thompson, who has been sent to a rather exclusive boarding school where his hacker skills make him useful to a mysterious gang of slightly magical students. What starts out as simple hacks and easy magic soon descends into dangerous liaisons and a life-or-death situation for both Nick and his new found friends. Featuring magical portals, script-kiddie hacking, awful school uniform, a strange stiff-legged dog, and mercenary rats.
https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240412-02
RSS: https://tdlwhite.com/podcasts/twitchals1/rss.xml
Simulacro
Audio Drama
Marcos Oliveira, uno de los padres de la inteligencia artificial, desaparece de forma misteriosa en Canarias y lo único que saben es que iba buscando una puerta. El escritor Santiago Álvarez recorre la última ruta que hizo el científico para intentar resolver el misterio pero, cuanto más lo busca, más perdido se encuentra en un laberinto entre la realidad y la simulación.
https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240417-01
RSS: https://www.spreaker.com/show/6147871/episodes/feed
Dicey Bastards Comedy DnD Podcast
Audio RPG
A retired Swashbuckler and his questionable Sorcerer companion come out of retirment for one last epic heist. Can they put the perfect team together to steal a priceless artifact in time for the Festival of Heroes? Find out in this hilarious and chaotic 5E Actual Play podcast where six authors go head-to-head to weave a tale of legendary lunacy!
https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240402-04
RSS: https://www.spreaker.com/show/6138774/episodes/feed
The tall guy with the short stories.
Audio Book
I enjoy writing and reading short stories. I also love having new fresh stories to listen to while at work. Figured maybe you folks would like to join me.
https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20230413-03
RSS: https://anchor.fm/s/cef43ca0/podcast/rss
3P - Partners in Pen & Paper
Audio RPG
Hier unterhalten wir euch mit Actual Plays zu unseren Runden und einzelnen Spielvorstellungen. Unsere Schwerpunkte liegen auf Erzähl- und Indierollenspielen, mit Abstechern zu OSR. Auf unserem Discord-Server planen wir unsere Runden öffentlich, suchen nach Mitspielenden und tauschen uns gerne mit euch aus.
https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20210101-23
RSS: https://anchor.fm/s/7fc96420/podcast/rss
The Numbers Station
Audio Drama
Leave the world behind and immerse yourself in the nebulous world of nightmares and hallucinations so similar to reality, but...not quiet. Not real enough. Created by Charlie Mesure.
https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240407-02
RSS: https://feeds.acast.com/public/shows/the-numbers-station
Aerrigo's Odyssey
Audio RPG
Welcome to Aerrigo’s Odyssey! Listen in as four unpolished heroes explore a homebrewed realm buried in secrets and danger, seeking answers and learning about themselves in the process. This is a passion project of mine, that originated as a collection of short stories and fantastical worlds that I created as a kid. I never dreamed that I would be able to bring it to life in the way I've been able to Since this is my first experience DMing and playing dungeons and dragons at all, I'm learning as I go.
https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240414-02
RSS: https://feeds.acast.com/public/shows/aerrigos-odyssey
Crimson Ink
Audio Drama
After a major reporter for the city paper goes missing, it's up to his wife and the help of the city's greatest has-been detective to uncover the dangerous web of lies that led to his dissapearance. Under the table deals, bad blood, the mafia? There's not telling how far down this rabbit hole goes. A new audio drama inspired by the likes of The Adventures of Philip Marlowe and Yours Truly, Johnny Dolar. Brought to you by the students of Grand Canyon University.
https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240410-03
RSS: https://www.spreaker.com/show/6138872/episodes/feed
https://i0.wp.com/joffreyvousraconte.fr/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/podcast.png
Joffrey vous raconte
Audio Book
Joffrey vous raconte trois histoires regroupées dans "Le Diable était là". Trois récits que le Malin écoutera avec beaucoup d'attention. Le premier, intitulé "Le Diable dans une cage", regroupe les nouvelles d'un professeur de français et ses élèves qui imaginent des histoires de maléfices et de destins tragiques, sans se rendre compte que le Diable est à leur côté. Le deuxième, "L'homme qui ne voulait plus aimer" nous plonge dans un conte de fée noir. Tandis que le dernier récit, "Un Souhait après l'autre" relate la rencontre du Diable, sous la forme d'une coccinelle, et d'une petite fille qui a la lourde tâche de choisir son meilleur souhait.
https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240404-03
RSS: https://joffreyvousraconte.fr/category/podcast/feed/
Goodberry Pie
Audio RPG
Come take a seat at our table and we'll serve you a slice of Goodberry Pie! Goodberry Pie is a multi-genre TTRPG podcast where we create and play one-on-one microcampaigns consisting of two to five sessions. If you like your D&D ala mode, or your Honey Heist served with whip cream we got it all in the cooler. Order's up!
https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240413-03
RSS: https://feeds.captivate.fm/goodberry-pie/
The Usual NPCs
Audio RPG
We're thrilled to announce the premiere of our brand-new podcast, The Usual NPCs . It's a Norse inspired campaign with 4 real life strangers (and one person that brought them all together) and our GM. Join our eclectic group of characters—Althea the crocheting artificer, Levi the hungry paladin, Boomer the enigmatic sorcerer, Scrivmir the artistic rogue, and Fitz the historian bard—as they navigate treacherous landscapes and uncover the mysteries buried beneath the snow covered tundra of Midland.
https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240401-03
RSS: https://anchor.fm/s/efc16c50/podcast/rss
Natural Rollers
Audio RPG
Natural Rollers is a DnD 5e Podcast. Your dungeon master is Tyler McAlister, with the fantastic group of players, Tim, Leslie, and Lindy!
https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240401-04
RSS: https://anchor.fm/s/f301c144/podcast/rss
Halfway to Infinity
Audio Book
A series of original short stories by voice actor Michael Rhys.
https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240418-01
RSS: https://feeds.captivate.fm/halfwaytoinfinity/
https://media.rss.com/foreveryourspodcast/20240415_010441_76ef607cc708ee6ccd30b54b643fe036.png
Forever Yours
Audio Drama
Forever Yours, a love story that transcends time... Follow the written journey of a handsome and witty soldier and an aspiring baker,in the midst of the Korean War. Set in the Jim Crow south, the two share their captivating love story across oceans with weekly love letters. Together they learn that distance cannot erase the shared prejudices they face as African-Americans. Listen to Forever Yours, a new romantic fiction podcast brought to you by Well Writers Audio.
https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240416-02
RSS: https://media.rss.com/foreveryourspodcast/feed.xml
https://assets.pippa.io/shows/63fb8c4f188c36001155c828/1677430473400-fb8afb7c398fe5b71ef75b23bcc46e6b.jpeg
Operation Starship Infinity
Audio Drama
Welcome to Operation Starship Infinity. The year is 3856 and we left our planet New New Earth to find a new habitable planet, to hide from the evil intergalactic terrorist corporation that's trying to take over the universe. This corporation is called KBC Corp. The ship is owned by Lucious who owns Quantum Corp. We are headed on a journey that our Master Navigator, Aquamarine has calculated that it is going to take the ship 175 years to get to the next inhabitable planet carrying 1,200 passengers. However, an electromagnetic force field has hit the ship, the navigation system is down and there is damage to the ship. The Captain, co-Captain and a select few of others have been woken to help the androids fix the ship. Aquamarine figured out we have only been asleep 75 years and they are way off course. The mission now is : to get the navigation system back up, fix the ship and get everyone back to sleep. Can they find a closer planet to seek refuge? Well, I guess we're gonna find out. Welcome, to Operation Starship Infinity.
https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240311-07
RSS: https://feeds.acast.com/public/shows/operation-starship-infinit
Way Out
Audio Book
Welcome to Way Out, a roadside diner with an imaginative waiter working tonight's shift. He's bored—as anyone would be during a slow overnight slog—so he begins imagining backstories for the sleepy patrons around him. The catch? He's a horror buff, so these stories aren't exactly sweet.
https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240417-02
RSS: https://anchor.fm/s/ed613e90/podcast/rss
Aufnahmen aus der Geisterwelt
Audio Drama
Achtung, ab 18 und ohne Gewähr! Wir haben exklusiven Zugriff auf den umfangreichen Nachlass von Dr. Walsh, einem zu Lebzeiten umstrittenen Parawissenschaftler. Erst nach seinem Tod entdeckte man seine umfangreiche Sammlung an tagebuchähnlichen Aufzeichnungen und Tondokumenten, mit denen er seine verstörensten Fälle dokumentiert hat. Es sind entrückte und erschreckende Aufnahmen - und wir dürfen sie nun hören. Mit großem Aufwand rekonstruiert die Podcasterin und Journalistin Milla König seine Fälle und erzählt Sie nach Besten Wissen und Gewissen nach. Jede Folge ein Fall von Parawissenschaftler Dr. Frederic Walsh.
https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240415-01
RSS: https://aufnahmenausdergeisterwelt.podigee.io/feed/mp3
Spectacle of Power
Audio Book
A fantasy fiction podcast which follows one continuous story. Join a varied cast of characters as they strive to overcome a diabolical threat, coming face-to-face with the spectacle of power.Timothy Brunskill. </div>
https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240418-02
RSS: https://feeds.buzzsprout.com/2353914.rss
Rolling Midnight
Audio RPG
Dedicated to telling authentic and innovative stories through the medium of tabletop gaming, Rolling Midnight is the latest indie actual play podcast series released by award winning studio Midnight Ceremonies Media.
https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240419-01
RSS: https://midnightceremoniesmedia.com/feed/podcast/rolling-midnight/
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Heya! 🫶🏻 19% for Ansel & Eudelme, please~
OMG SDJSKDJSKDSKDJ Thank you so much for sending me an ask about both of them! Eudelme is my current obsession and i can't already stop talking about him and honestly I don't want to stop at all! Thank you sm! :^) I was so happy to open my inbox and see an ask from you! 💞
19%. How does your character's living space reflect their personality?
I've written TOO MUCH (I have 0 self control whatsoever..) so you need to click XD
Ansel's living space is quite chaotic, actually! Ansel lives in a small Gothic mansion in Britchester most of the time, and literally every detail and decor item in the mansion has some specific meaning for him, although he tried to move away from his typical self-expression in it - not to use only black. From the outside, it is a complex architectural structure, that seems to be very cold and with a huge number of windows (that are often have black curtains over them, because Ansel is allergic to the sun) with exquisite mosaics reflecting the subjects of paintings that remind him of the home he no longer has - masterpieces painted by Botticelli, Renoir and his most beloved artist, Francisco Goya. I think Francisco Goya's paintings convey his personality quite well and you have no idea how much Ansel really loves the motifs of these paintings and how many objects he keeps with them in his house. Inside, the mansion is furnished with great love, but it is Ansel's personality that is mostly noticeable in the decor, which is… quite a lot. He collects old manuscripts (especially medieval ones) and music boxes (he loves classical music and Russian music boxes of the late eighteenth century very much! He is comforted by watching the moving figures of ballerinas and couples dancing at the ball to the beautiful music written by Berezovsky and Fomin. This is one of the most effective ways for him to help him cope with anxiety) - and believe me, he really has a lot of them! They are everywhere - in all the open carved cabinets, on the shelves… Just like the music records for his old record player, hand-painted by himself. He has records by Queen, David Bowie, Portishead, Massive Attack and so many artists whose music he is inspired by when he writes his own - and many of his own records and posters! They hang on the walls (right next to paintings by outstanding Impressionists and frescoes by Gothic artists, yes!) and lie everywhere - even on the dark wooden floor. And also, you can find countless glasses everywhere (for blood, of course! for him, this is the same as leaving endless cups of tea and coffee in his workspace). In the living room there is a huge church organ and there is a whole acoustic system - and in fact, all the rooms of his mansion are rooms for writing music! He likes to use the organ for acoustics and some specific notes in his songs! By the way, he has a whole collection of insects, which he also uses to record sound on the background, for a more interesting and creepy, charming sound - he has a special room for his winged and crawling pets! He loves butterflies and dragon flies, and also, he has some strange fascination for big bugs - he finds them very cute and he has also painted their wooden homes that were made by his husband! :') Although, their bedroom is something from another dimension - it's full of giant pillows and again, glasses for blood or with blood! The ceiling in their bedroom is a work of art in a literal meaning - they painted it in Baroque style with stars and clouds! Also, there's a fridges to store blood in, which is really practical since he has to drink blood to live, like a vampire 🩸🫀 Also, he's for sure Hannibal's number 1 fan, lmao!
Eudelme's living space, on the other hand, is...forest, so it's really interesting to imagine! The whole forest is living space, where he moves freely and in fact, this is quite a difficult question! He has always been a forest dweller and has lived there all his life, despite his keen interest in people and life outside the forest, he has always understood that he is the part of the forest that provides balance and creates the necessary boundaries between the living and the dead, humans and creatures living in the mysterious and mystical forest of Villefranche. However, he definitely has his own personal space in the forest, belonging only to him - a huge field of fireweed, in which he is alone with himself and the wonderful soothing aroma of these wild flowers. Almost no one even from the inhabitants of the forest knows about this place - here he likes to leave old books lost by travelers who went to the forest and never left it again. Here, under the tall fir trees, he keeps the compasses and watches he found, the owners of which will never return for them. He is very fond of the wanderers' personal items. He sleeps under the huge branches of an old coniferous tree, hiding him from prying eyes and unless restless fireflies find him sleeping under them. He often falls asleep reading found entries from the diaries of missing people, and yet, he does not fully understand human languages, but he guesses - he seems to feel emotions permeating the pages yellowed with time, covered with elegant and delicately woven spider webs. Here he feels completely safe, being in the soft embrace of coniferous twigs enveloping him. He has a beautiful blanket sewn from scraps of different warm fabric, into which he has invested an incredible amount of love. What his personality is definitely connected with is a large number of ribbons and bows, which he also collects on the flower field. He likes to decorate his hair with them as much as with curls of complex ivy patterns :')
Not sure If i answered it the right way, but here's what came to my mind! Also, very sorry for this being so long, it was so unnecessary skksks AND I APOLOGIZE FOR MY BAD WRITING AND DESCRIPTIONS I HATE IT TOO I swear I tried my best!! Т.Т
#LMAO THAT'S TOO LONG#IIIIIIIM SORRY#I APOLOGIZE#asks#ocs related#*ansel my beloved#*eudelme#.txt#oc asks
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