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wannab-urs · 7 months

Note

For the sleepover

Do me a favor

My baby boy, Dieter

Congratulations again babe! I love you!

Thank you bb I love you and I'm really excited about this fic

For the Record

Pairing: Record Shop Owner!Dieter x f!Reader

Summary: You go to a record store looking for something specific and end up on a date with the owner.

Warnings/Content: Dieter Bravo being Dieter Bravo, excessive name dropping of bands I like, grungy Dieter wearing Doc Martens and covered in tattoos, reader going to a strangers house like an idiot, kissing, fingering, oral f!receiving, unprotected piv (this is not real life. Don’t be dumb), one tiny little ass slap, praise, creampie, no use of Y/N, WC: ~2900

Notes: Bravo Records is based on Grimey’s in Nashville, TN which you should absolutely visit if you get the chance. Unfortunately it isn’t owned by Dieter Bravo. Thank you @theywhowriteandknowthings for the beta read and the encouragement <;3

Dieter Bravo Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

You’re on the hunt for a Replacements' album, Tim, specifically. Ironically, you’re replacing it in your collection, having lost it to your ex boyfriend. Note to self: never combine your record collection with anyone ever again.

This morning you’d googled “record shops near me” and scrolled past Walmart and Target, no thank you, and settled on Bravo Records. The blurb advertised it as a “Laid-back music shop specializing in vintage, pressed recordings, CDs & cassette tapes,” and mentioned a bookstore in the basement and a consignment shop out back.

Pulling into the gravel parking lot, you take in the building. There are murals depicting perfect recreations of album covers on the brick walls of the store. If you couldn’t see the brushstrokes when you got up close, you’d think they were somehow printed on. The bright yellow of Metallica’s 72 Seasons, the hands reaching for the sky on Boygenius’ The Record, both newer releases. But there’s also The Clash’s London Calling and The Stooges’ Fun House.

Whoever owns this place has taste. You step into the shop, eyes immediately drawn to the oddly curved ceiling and the exposed brick walls, covered in posters and random paintings. There are 6 sets of shelves running almost the entire length of the store up to a small clearing in the back. There’s a surprisingly large stage beyond that, someone playing the guitar and reciting poetry, a smattering of people leaned against the shelves, listening.

“Welcome to Bravo’s,” a deep but cheery voice rings in your ear. You let out a small yelp and turn sharply to face the source. “Oh! Didn’t mean to scare you. I was just downstairs and heard the door… I’m Dieter, by the way.”

You take in the man now standing in front of you. He’s wearing a very faded Nirvana shirt stretched within an inch of its life across his broad chest and shoulders. It probably used to be black, but now it’s a bit gray, and there are holes in the seams of the collar. His wide legged pants are black and flowy, you almost mistake them for a skirt until he leans against the counter and crosses his legs. His Docs are scuffed, clearly worn in, maybe vintage. You trail your eyes back up his body, noting the various tattoos on his hands and arms, all black ink and thick linework. You settle back on his face and find his eyebrows arched over deep brown eyes, plush lips in a pout. His beard is scruffy, patchy, and his hair looks like he just rolled out of bed.

“Find anything you like?” He smirks at you and you suddenly realize you just silently checked him out for a good 10 seconds. Your cheeks heat and you clear your throat.

“Um… I’m looking for Tim? The album I mean, not the guy, I don’t even know a Tim. By the Replacements? Do you know it?” You sound like an idiot oh god.

He barely restrains a chuckle, mirth dancing in his eyes, “Yeah, I know it. I only have a first pressing in the original sleeve… is that okay?” He crosses his arms over his chest and holy shit. His biceps are huge. You bite your lip and nod.

“Yes! Er… um. How much is it?” You wince. There’s no way it’s gonna fit in your pitifully small budget.

Dieter tilts his head to the side and scrunches his eyebrows up, two lines forming between them. He brings a hand to his unruly hair and tugs. So that’s why he looks like he just got thoroughly fucked. He perks his head up suddenly, almost like he heard your thoughts.

“Do you wanna go out with me?”

“What?”

“Oh! I mean go out for coffee with me and you can have the record.”

“I can’t just take it for free, Dieter!”

“Of course you can. I’m the owner. It’s my record. Do you not want to go out with me?” His face scrunches up again and fuck. He’s really cute.

“Of course I want to go out with you,” you splutter, shocking yourself.

“It’s settled then. Let’s go!” He turns and walks out the door and you scramble to keep up with him.

“Now? Don’t you have to run the shop?”

“Nah, Chrissy can handle it,” he waves his hand like it’s no big deal and heads for the street. “It’s just right down the road.”

–-

Coffee with Dieter is amazing. He orders a sweet monstrosity, frozen, topped with whipped cream and 3 kinds of syrup. You try to order your favorite drink, but he insists you get the same thing as him.

“Just trust me!” You’ve literally just met the man, but you think you do trust him. There’s just something about him. He learns your name when you give it to the barista and you apologize profusely for being too flustered to properly introduce yourself.

He just laughs and guides you to a pair of armchairs in the corner, kicking off his boots to reveal mismatched socks – one a dark purple tall sock with embroidered grapes on it, the other an ankle sock with a print of Starry Night on it – and settles cross legged into the chair. You tell him you like his socks.

He asks you about what you do for work, where you’re from, what your favorite movies are, an endlessly easy and flowing conversation, peppering in his own answers and arguing with you when you tell him that Judd Apatow movie about making a movie during covid was awful. He asks you what your holy grail album is, the one you’d kill to have in your collection. You don’t even have to think about it.

“The Velvet Underground and Nico, original pressing, with the sticker still on it. I’ll never be able to afford it though. I’ve never even seen one in real life.”

“Do you want to?” He looks at you with a shit eating grin and a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“What? Want to see one in real life? I mean… yeah?”

“Let’s go then!” He jumps up, pulling his boots back on and heading for the door. You’re again hustling to keep up with him. You follow him out onto the sidewalk.

“Dieter! Go where?”

“To my house!” You grab his arm and pull him to a stop.

“Why are we going to your house?” You’re exasperated.

“To show you the record. You wanted to see it right?”

“You do not have it. Dieter, there’s no way… One of them just sold for 25k.”

“I do have it. My dad bought it when it came out and now it’s mine.” He takes off walking again, grabbing your hand and pulling you along with him.

“Is this some sort of ploy to get me to go home with you? You could have just asked.”

“I know! I mean… fuck. I’m being serious. I have the record upstairs.” He suddenly comes to a stop in front of an apartment building. “If you want, you can wait here and I’ll bring it down. Just promise not to rob me, yeah?” You huff out a frustrated breath.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll come in with you.”

His face lights up and he threads his fingers through yours again. It feels nice, holding his hand. He pulls you up the stairs with him and unlocks his door, and you step into his living room. His apartment was clearly supposed to be one of those industrial chic, modern type spaces, but he clearly didn’t care for that style. There are paintings and posters covering every square inch of wall space. “I take it you decorated the shop then?”

“Yep! I do all the murals too.” Fuck, he can paint too? The concrete floor is covered with rugs of all different shapes, sizes, and textures. There’s a blue couch and some clearly thrifted armchairs off to the left. The right side of the room is absolutely dominated by his record collection. There’s a shelf running the length of the room, standing taller than you and absolutely stuffed with records. On the floor around it are milk crates filled with even more records.

“Jesus Christ, Dieter, how many records do you have?” You wander over to a crate and start flipping through, finding that he’s organized them by genre. This one is folk punk you notice as you flip through albums by AJJ, Violent Femmes, The Mountain Goats, and more.

“I genuinely have no idea. I stopped counting back when I was a teenager.” He goes to the shelf, and you decide it must be more organized than it looks because he quickly pulls two albums out and presents them to you. One is the album you asked about in the shop. The other one…

“Holy shit.” You stare up at him from your crouched position. “Holy fucking shit Dieter you actually have it.”

“I fuckin’ told you! Do you wanna listen to it?”

“Do I want to listen to it? Are you actually kidding me? Of course I do!!” He grins at you and walks over to his record player beside the couch. He slides the record out of the sleeve gently and places it on the turntable before dropping the needle. You join him on the couch as the first notes of “Sunday Morning” drift into the room.

“Dieter?” He hums and smiles at you again. “I could kiss you right now. Fuck. Can I kiss you right now?” He looks shocked for a second before taking your face in his hands and pressing his lips to yours. You kiss him back hard, licking into his mouth. He drags you into his lap, your knees settling on the outsides of his thighs.

You bury your hands in his wild curls and gently tug on them. He groans into your mouth and trails his hands down your body, pulls you even tighter against him. You can feel him getting hard under you, his soft pants doing little to conceal his arousal. You’re not much better off as his lips leave yours and trail down your jaw, your throat, his teeth catching skin as he goes. When “I’m Waiting for the Man,” starts to play, Dieter brings his hands back to your face and pulls you away from him, staring deep into your eyes.

“Do you wanna have sex with me?”

You stare at him, shocked for a moment, and then you laugh so hard you fall sideways off his lap. “You know what, Dieter? Yes. I’d like to have sex with you.”

“Cool,” he breathes out, turning and settling his body over yours. He presses another kiss to your lips and you tug on his shirt. He pulls back long enough to strip it off and you take yours off too. He lays sloppy, open mouthed kisses on your throat and chest, mumbling praises into your skin as he works your jeans and panties down your thighs. You kick them off as he makes his way down to your core. You’re wetter than you’ve ever been in your entire life. He’s so fucking gorgeous. All golden skin beautifully covered in black ink.

“I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” Dieter whispers into the space between your thighs. Your hands fly to his hair as he licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit, immediately closing his lips around it and sucking lightly. Your head falls back and a moan rips from your throat.

He presses a thick finger into you and it’s fucking bliss. He feels so good already. He curls his finger upwards, swirling his tongue in circles around your clit at the same time. Your hands drop to his shoulders as he adds another finger and starts thrusting them into you, curling on every upstroke into your g-spot.

“Fuck! Dieter… feels so good. Don’t stop.”

“Shhh baby, I can’t hear the song.”

You dig your nails into his shoulders, laughing and on the verge of coming at the same time. He slips his tongue down to join his fingers at your entrance and buries his nose against your clit and you’re gone. The shaking of your body from laughing at him quickly gives over to shuddering as your core tightens around his fingers. You cry out, pure euphoria washing over your whole body.

“That’s it baby. Fuck, you’re squeezing my fingers so tight. Look so pretty coming for me.” Dieter talks you through it until the haze of your orgasm fades. “Here or the bed?”

“Here. Get in me. Now.” You grab at his hair, pulling his face back up to yours. You kiss your own slick off his lips hungrily as he clumsily shoves his pants down far enough for his cock to spring out. He slides it through your folds a few times before notching it at your entrance.

You grab his hips and pull him into you, throwing your head back and arching your hips up into him. “Impatient.” He grumbles it into your neck, but thrusts himself into the hilt, clearly as desperate as you. He barely gives you a chance to adjust before he’s drawing back and thrusting into you again. His breath leaves him in a low growl that has a new gush of slick coating his cock.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him back into you every time he pulls out. His thrusts are shallow from this angle, but he’s slamming into you so hard it doesn’t matter. You slot your lips together, not really kissing, just breathing each other in.

“Dieter, I’m gonna come again,” you can feel your walls tightening around him, drawing him deeper into you. He shifts his angle slightly so that his pelvis grinds against your clit every time his hips meet yours. Your nails dig into the meat of his shoulders, dragging down to his lower back as your whole body tightens and spasms around him.

For a moment, as you catch your breath, you think your hearing must have gone out. Dieter is buried to the hilt inside you, torso pressed flush to yours, but you don’t hear the music anymore. “Want me to flip it to the B side?” Oh. He just fucked you for the entire A side of the track and he’s still not done.

“Yeah sure,” you huff a laugh into his hair. He lifts up, presses a kiss to your lips and pulls out of you with a groan. Your cunt flutters around nothing, missing the feeling of him inside you already. You get a good look at his cock now – thick, uncut, drooling precum and covered in your release. He’s so pretty.

He flips the record to the B side and then pushes his pants down the rest of the way, leaving them in a black puddle on the floor. He grabs your hips and flips you over onto your stomach. “Thought I’d get a look at your B side too,” Dieter says and you can hear the smirk in his voice.

“I think I hate you,” you mumble into the cushions. He just laughs and settles one knee on the couch, his other foot planted on the floor. He taps your ass cheek lightly.

“Up on your knees, pretty girl.” You shift to comply and he settles his hands on your hips, helping you up and burying his cock in you again in one smooth motion.

“Fuck!” Your arms buckle and you drop to your elbows as he rails you. The new angle is so good it almost hurts. He uses his grip on your hips to pull you into every thrust, punching the breath out of you and turning your brain to mush. You couldn’t tell him what song is playing right now if your life depended on it. All you hear is your own strangled moans and the praises he’s crying out into the air.

“So fucking beautiful. You’re so tight and wet, fuck. I’m gonna come baby. Can I come in your pretty pussy? Please?” You nearly come again at that. The thought of being full of him.

“Yes! Yes! Dieter. Come in me. Need it. Please!” He buries himself inside you and stays there and you can actually feel his cock jump inside you, hot spurts of cum filling you up. He curls himself over your back and you both collapse into the couch.

He rolls onto his side, pulling you with him and tucking your back to his chest. He doesn’t pull out of you, just tangles your legs together and wraps his arms around you. You both just lay there in a daze, listening to the rest of the album. When “European Son” fades out and the record starts clicking, Dieter finally slips his softened cock from you. He stands up and puts the record back in its sleeve, filing it back on the shelf.

“If I go to the bathroom, will you still be here when I get back, or are you gonna steal my record and break my heart?”

“Of course I’m gonna steal it,” you smile at him, still stretched out on the couch and not really planning on moving any time soon. He rolls his eyes, laughing at you and disappearing into the hallway.

Maybe combining record collections isn’t completely off the table. If it’s with the right person.

#gins1500sleepover #Dieter Bravo #Dieter Bravo fics #Dieter Bravo fanfiction #Dieter Bravo x reader #Dieter Bravo x you #The Bubble #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro fics #pedro pascal character fanfiction #dieter bravo x f!reader

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octuscle · 2 months

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My boyfriend is cute, but he’s also so weak. I wish he was tougher, like his redneck brother.

Allow me to ask you why you are with your friend who is passionate about 19th century English poetry and baroque trumpet concertos. And not with his brother, who shoots cats and empty tin cans with a shotgun and claims to be a "monster truck mechanic". Okay, your boyfriend is gay, his brother isn't. That's a pretty good argument.

You lie together in your room, cuddle a bit, read and listen to music. Each with their own headphones. He Johann Sebastian Bach, you Taylor Swift. He reads Byron, you read a Superman comic book. He looks really cute lying on the bed. But a bit rougher, a bit more masculine… That would be cool…

Out of the blue, your boyfriend says he needs to take a shit. You are shocked. He's never expressed himself like that before. He's in the bathroom for a surprisingly long time. When he comes back, he has a copy of "Four Wheelers" under his arm. And he's turned the music up so loud that you can hear the bass from his headphones. What's he listening to, you ask. "The Cadillac Three" he answers. Never heard it, you think to yourself… He rolls himself a cigarette. And asks if you'd like one too. Neither of you has ever smoked before…

After you've spent most of the afternoon chilling without saying a word, your boyfriend says "Babe, when are you making dinner? A proper chili would be great, I'm hungry as a horse." You ask if he's gone completely mad now, you're not his cook and especially not his babe. He rolls over to you, unzips your pants and pulls them down. You start moaning in anticipation. He's about to suck you off. And he sucks like the devil. To your amazement, he pulls his pants down too. His boner pops out of his pants like a jack-in-the-box. He spits on his cock and slowly inserts it into your hole. And then he fucks you like a devil. You squeal with pleasure like a guinea pig. His huge uncut cock feels so great in your tight hole. He starts to quiver. And he fills you up with his load until his sperm drips out of your ass. You say that was the best sex of your life. He replies that he's really hungry now and needs a big portion of chili.

You've never cooked a chili in your life. You've never cooked anything at all. You usually go out to eat. You ask how a chili is cooked. He says that at least you have a tight ass. And takes two large cans of chili from the kitchen cupboard, puts them in a pot and gives you a slap on your ass. Where the hell did these cans come from? Your boyfriend says that he's watching a bit of football and that you should please serve the food in front of the TV. Well, he put it a bit more rustic. When you come into the living room with two bowls of steaming chili, he's lounging on the couch. His cowboy boots on the coffee table. His thumbs under the big belt buckle. And the hair on the back of his neck almost long enough to fall over his shoulder.

It annoys you a little that he doesn't really eat anything else apart from chili. Scrambled eggs with black beans maybe. He only drinks beer and coffee. He does fuck you two or three times a day, but he farts and sometimes he watches football on TV at the same time. Your favorite thing is when he has breakfast at the gas station. Then you get woken up with a fuck and then have a few hours of rest before you have to go to work. But you also need them to prepare lunch and dinner, clean and do the laundry. Your husband has expectations. And Babe has to fulfill them.

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #chronivac #inked man #redneck tf #ai image

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tj-dragonblade · 3 months

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Would love to hear about Treasure for the WIP game

Okay, this one's shameless pwp from a few smut prompts last spring (jewelry, make-up, finger-fucking, piercings, and panties). It's nothing but an excuse to have Dream dolled up in lace panties and stockings and heels and tons of jewelry (piercings and otherwise, including a tiara) and gothy makeup, and let Hob take him apart a few times. It may develop emotional themes as we go; time will tell. The very beginning is still in progress but doesn't need much; the full first orgasm is written and whenever the mood strikes I'm working on orgasms 2-4. An excerpt, heading into nsfw territory:

"You named me your treasure," Dream purrs, fingers toying with the back of Hob's hair, low down at the nape of his neck.

Ah. Yes. He does vaguely remember such an endearment slipping from him just last week, panted helplessly into Dream's mouth while Dream undulated slow and relentless in his lap.

"I have. Adorned myself, accordingly."

"I mean. Treasure's not just gems and fine fabric and precious metals, y'know. Can be…anything, really." He doesn't know why that's what comes out of his mouth, except that Dream decked out like this, straddling his lap, leaning in close—it's shorted all his higher brain functions and his mouth is just running on auto-pilot, apparently.

Dream pulls back, the first hints of a pout showing on his ebony mouth. "Do you wish to argue semantics or do you wish to plunder your treasure?" His head tilts up, haughty and aristocratic, tiara enhancing the effect. "Or do I need to change into something more to your liking?"

"Please don't." Hob grips tighter at Dream's bony hips, forcefully re-engaging his capacity to think. "This is, in fact, very much to my liking. Sorry I'm no good at poetry, but you look…bloody amazing. Delectable. Wanna lay you out on an altar and worship, you're so damn pretty."

Dream's self-satisfied smirk returns, at that. "Then worship me upon the altar of your lap, Hob Gadling." He presses closer, sinks gentle teeth into Hob's lower lip and pulls, letting it slide free easily. He reaches somewhere and thunks a bottle of lube down onto the table beside them. "I crave your touch, the talents of your fingers within me."

"Of course, yes. Anything you like, whatever you want. But first—" he grips Dream under the thighs, hefts him up with a mighty grunt, rising half out of his chair to turn and deposit Dream onto the table "—first, let's have a proper look at you." He sits back enough to see all of Dream and Dream smiles slightly, indulgent.

"As you wish, then. Look your fill of the treasure before you." He plants his hands behind him, tilts his head up, spreads his legs wide, invitation written into every line of his body.

And Hob. He appreciates every detail of how Dream's dolled himself up, the stockings and heels and makeup and the jewels adorning everything; he truly does, but right now his focus is narrowing quickly. His hands go to Dream's thighs without thought, smoothing over the black pearls and the rubies sewn into the lace bands topping the sheer silk stockings, moving up to edge under the lace wrapping Dream's hips. He leans in, brushes lips to Dream's sternum beneath the looping strings of jewels, glances up to catch Dream gazing fondly down at him as he moves lower; it's a look that makes it impossible to hold back his words.

"God, do you know what a hard cock in fancy lace does to me? And when it's you?" He presses open-mouthed kisses to the soft flat of Dream's belly as he goes, tonguing the navel piercing briefly.

"Perhaps," Dream allows, so smugly that it's clear the panties were no coincidental serendipity on his part. His fingers thread into Hob's hair, a gentle hold round the back of his head as Hob mouths lower, and Dream leans back accommodatingly.

WIP List

#askmemes #thank you anon!#TJs Writing #Dreamling #wip: treasure

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sungbeam · 2 years

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𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

lee jihoon x gn!reader

0.6k words, comfort, v soft, not proofread sorry

a/n: a bit more comfort for the weary soul (that's me; i'm the weary soul)

"Jihoon-ah?" You whispered into the quiet of the studio. It was one of those rare moments where Lee Jihoon's personal studio was left in silence as the man himself leaned back in his throne and pondered the right order of words to string into masterful poetry and lyrics. "Are you busy?"

His black head of hair shifted, before he twisted to peer over his shoulder at you. He beckoned you in with a swift flick of his fingers. "No, no. Come in."

You quietly obeyed, shutting the door behind you. Jihoon leaned over to drag the extra chair in the room toward him so you could sit beside him. He wasn't used to being asked permission for people to enter; usually the members barged in unannounced. But he knew you didn't want to interrupt his boundaries and his creative sphere—your soft, compassionate demeanor was something he loved most about you.

He didn't often express his emotions outright, but he couldn't help doing so around you.

You settled in the seat, leaning your head against his shoulder while his left hand captured your hand and laced your fingers together. His right hand busied itself with dragging the cursor to and fro across the screen as he messed with beats and harmonies.

Something itched at the back of Jihoon's mind. You wouldn't come in here for no reason. And it was probably incredibly late, so you would usually be asleep by now. He cleared his throat, grabbing your attention. "Ah, Ynie, is something wrong?"

You stared blankly at the desk, wondering how to string words into sentences, like Jihoon could so easily. "Just felt off tonight."

"Couldn't sleep?" He murmured like an offering.

Your head shifted—a nod. Your hand squeezed his slightly, and you felt him squeeze back. Then you felt a telltale three taps from his thumb on your skin: tap, tap, tap.

I love you.

Sometimes it was difficult saying those three words aloud, especially for Jihoon, but he wanted you to know he loved you. So he had, once upon a time, devised a system so you would know exactly what he was thinking.

His taps encouraged you. "I think I just missed you," you said quietly.

"Ah." Tap, tap, tap. I love you. "I missed you, too. But I don't think that's all that's on your mind, right?"

"Mm," you agreed half-heartedly. "I'm just feeling a little worn out."

"Ah. From work? From life?"

"All of it," you said. "I don't know how to make myself feel better, Hoon. But I came here because I know that being with you makes me feel better." You pressed a kiss to his shoulder; you felt three taps. "You're my lighthouse."

He smiled to himself. He understood the comparison, and it made his heart just a little giddy to hear it from you especially. Safe, you felt safe with him. "Well," he began, clicking his mouse and silencing the track he had just put together, "it's okay to not know how to feel better. Sometimes it's better that way and to just leave it to time to heal you."

His free hand gently cupped the back of your head so he could press a kiss to your crown, his hand then stroking your hair very softly. "And I'm glad you came to me," he whispered.

"I feel lost," you confessed.

Jihoon hated the way your voice was filled with so much uncertainty and hurt. He wished he could do more, but he tapped your hand three times once more, then felt the gesture returned. I love you, too. "Then let me light your way back."

a/n: yeah i got the tapping thing from a pinterest post ; going to sleep now

svt m.list

permanent taglist: @tayunji @im-a-big-mess @staysstrays @y3jiishot @crazywittysassy @seomisaho @stopeatread @enhacolor @yedammi @rnjfy @jaehunny1428 @mythicalamphitrite @ana-is-losing-her-mind @super-btstrash-posts @otchae @luv4vernon @ashxxkook @thesunsfullmoon @parkjusing

#seventeen x reader #lee jihoon x reader #woozi x reader #seventeen drabble #seventeen comfort #seventeen scenarios #seventeen oneshot #seventeen imagines #woozi imagines #woozi drabble #woozi scenarios #caratwritersclub

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taste-thewaste · 6 days

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fic pride tag

thank you so much for the tags my lovely friends <3 @bigassbowlingballhead @eusuntgratie

Rules: Post your favourite line or passage from as many of your published works as you’d like. Let yourself feel proud of your creations! Tag as many people as you post snippets, so your fellow fic friends can be proud, too.

this is going to be interesting because I have to be nice to myself and proud of my work lol let's goooo (all of these are firstprince because i'm vanilla)

1. Gorgeous. Another short little dude in my T Swift series, inspired by the song. This is the first line, and I've always loved it:

They are in a small bar in Paris, drunk on French 75s and the nearness of each other, staring at the Eiffel Tower when Alex starts making fun of him.

2. i wanna touch your body (so fucking electric). my beloved first smut fic!! so proud of how this one turned out actually. here's my favorite bit of the boys sexting each other

Later that night, when Henry is safely sequestered in his rooms and able to do what he likes, he opens his text thread with Alex and sends a barb of his own. Thinking about the way your dick looks when it’s curved against your belly. You’re so fucking pretty. Alex’s phone goes off, and he looks away from the skillet that he’s cooking chicken in to check. He reads Henry’s text and his cheeks flame, a bolt of lightning heads straight to his groin, and his dick stirs. Pretty? Yes. You have a pretty cock, Alex. Sue me. Alex moans, and he can’t think of what to say because his mind is flushed with want and need. Luckily, Henry seems to know this and follows up. I want your pretty cock in my pretty mouth so I can hear you beg. Alex’s dick is painfully hard, and he’s grateful for just a moment, in his haze of arousal, that he’d swapped his characteristically tight jeans for sweatpants when he’d gotten home. He manages to tap out a response before he starts taking care of himself. I’d be begging so loud that we’d rattle the ghosts of all those dead gay kings in that castle. I’d peel the wallpaper with my screams for you, baby. Alex finishes coming as soon as the smoke alarm in the kitchen goes off. He’s burned the chicken.

3. i could've danced all night. henry tutu fic!! this fic is so filthy, and i love this bit

“You…your dick is, uh, ahhhh, cock, and…” is all Alex manages to spit out before throwing his head back and abandoning all pretense of sexy talk. He can’t focus on anything but the feeling of Henry’s giant hands on him ( seriously , is anything about this man tiny?) and how close he is to coming. “My ‘dick is cock’, eh? That’s eloquent. Pure poetry, love,” Henry says with a low, throaty laugh, feeling himself going even harder than he already had been. Alex cock drunk is his favorite thing; the idea that he can fuck Alex stupid does something to him. He strokes even faster, shutting Alex up before he can even attempt some kind of comeback.

4. only bought this dress so you could take it off. alex in a little black dress and red bottoms! utter filth. here's my favorite part.

Alex knows what’s coming soon, who’s coming soon, and the thought brings a grin to his face. “Look at you, so out of your mind that you’re reduced to fucking a carpet because you just can’t get enough. It hurts, doesn’t it, you little slut? It hurts but it feels good, it feels so good , doesn’t it?” He punctuates each ‘good’ with a dig of the heels, and then Henry screams, fucking screams like his spirit is being wrenched from his body. He waits until Henry’s finished—he can tell by the way he is just lying there, spent, his body heaving and out of breath—and then he steps off. The vague part of Alex that is still himself underneath the fog of arousal that’s clouded his head wants to pull Henry up, clean him off, make sure he’s okay. That part, however, is locked in the recesses of his brain, and he wants to keep going because it’s his turn now, and by the look Henry gives him when he sits up, he knows that, too. “Come here.” Alex snaps his fingers again, and Henry starts to rise to his feet. “Did I say to stand up? I said to come here. ” Henry stops, looks up at Alex like he is confused, but he isn’t, and Alex knows it. He drops to his knees and crawls forward, his knees pushing through the mess he’s made without even thinking, moves forward until he is right in front of Alex.

5. turn the desert to glass (you would be the one). henry's tummy fic, the fic I am most proud of. i worked so hard on it!! here's two of my favorite parts bc i can't pick just one

After a few moments, Alex rests one hand on the lower part of Henry’s belly, where he’s the softest, and leans over to grab another spoonful of mousse. “You look like the most pampered, spoiled, overfed little prince right now,” he says in a low voice as the bite of rich dessert disappears down Henry’s pretty throat.

and

A tiny sound squeaks past Henry’s lips, a sound he can’t control but knows will drive Alex mad, a sound that means more . Alex slips a finger inside of him, and another, opens him up like he is a book he’s been dying to read, and Henry bares down shamelessly, his own hand twisted in the sheets at his side.

6. Your Lipstick, His Collar. my multi chap emo early 2000s college au being co-written with my bestie! this fic is so. much. fun. and here's a bit I love from one of my chapters:

“Here, you dropped this.” Alex’s iPod, suddenly pinker than anything in the world had a real right to be, is being handed to him. Alex looks up finally and his stomach does a flip as Henry’s eyes, as blue as any ocean he’s ever seen, lock with his. Now that he’s up close, he can see the remnants of yesterday’s eyeliner still smudged around Henry’s eyes, and he wants to know why and how and when and where he’s worn it. He wants to sit next to him and watch him put it on. He wants to watch Henry squeeze into those jeans that are really too tight to be allowed, really too tight to be anything more than a major tease, and he wants to…oh, he has to stop thinking right fucking now because things are going to get even more awkward if he doesn’t. “Thanks,” Alex says quietly, trying to not think about the feeling of Henry’s fingers against his as he takes the iPod. They’re soft and gentle, and all he can imagine is the delicate way they must hold an eyeliner pencil. “I like that song,” Henry says, and Alex can’t handle the way the words come out of his mouth, the way they fall from his lips in the lightest, most dignified accent, like the gentle flapping of a bird’s wing. “What?” Alex blurts stupidly, the word falling from his lips with a thud and rolling down the sidewalk like a giant turd. Christ, he’s an idiot.

7. take me out, and take me home. my newest, my lil baby!

Alex tells him the things he’s never told anyone, and Henry places a hand on his knee while he talks. He is quiet and still and holds Alex’s words with so much reverence and care. In return, Henry tells him the things he’s most afraid of, the things that have hurt him the most. He stares Alex in the eyes and gives him pieces of himself that he has never given to anyone.

tagging: @england-would-fall @henrysfox @agostobuwan @stratocumulusperlucidus @priincebutt

@piratefalls @doublecheekedkinard those are my 7 but please feel free to use this open tag and tag me if you want to do it!!

#fic pride #my fic

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starstruckwillows · 1 year

Text

♡ see the resemblance - s.b ♡

i'm so excited for christmas

platonic!sirius black x ravenclaw!reader, fem!reader, fun fluff blurb, introverted!reader, mention of alcohol, platonic nickname, if you don't celebrate christmas anon please request again i'll change it

your best friend convinces you to come to a christmas party

"sirius," you deadpanned, folding the clothes at the end of his bed because merlin knows he's incapable, "i don't want to come to your party."

he pouted, you rolled your eyes. he begged, you sighed. he threatened to scribble over your poetry anthology, you whacked him on the shoulder with it.

then he cheered victoriously and not at all quietly, pointing at the piece of parchment tacked to the wall above his bed. a signed statement saying you owed him a favour everytime you hit him with a piece of 'old literature'.

you cursed beneath your breath, and he patted you on the shoulder, "it won't be that bad, i'll be there!"

"joy." you muttered.

"you wound me, bug," he chirped back with a smile, "but we must press on. do you have something christmas-y to wear?"

you shrugged, "probably not, no."

sirius stared at you with a hand on his forehead as though re-evaluating your friendship and how he'd gotten here in the first place.

"okay, okay, well it's tomorrow, bug, so you might want to get on that."

"can i just get something off georgie?" you asked, referring to the girl he'd invited as his date. you knew her from before hogwarts, and you were comfortable enough with her to make such a request.

he groaned, "no! sending my best friend over to ask if she's excited to go with me sounds way too desperate!"

you frowned, "i'd be going over to ask for clothes?"

"oh, so you wouldn't even think to help poor me out and figure out how she's feeling about this?"

nodding as amicably as possible, "sirius, you're giving me a migraine. i'm going to get something off mary."

sirius clapped once in agreement, "yes! macdonald has good taste, i trust that decision."

"i have good taste," you defended, before cutting yourself off at the last syllable, and shaking your head, "alright, that's fair."

the next night, you swapped the blue of your robes for the lace snowflake-encrusted wintermint sweatshirt mary had lent you, smiling joyfully as she made you spin a few times in demonstration.

at first, you blended with the party, chattered to appease sirius, drunk a bit to loosen your nerves, swayed to the music on the edge of the crowd.

after fifteen minutes, however, you tucked yourself into a plush armchair and continued reading, tracing the fluff on your leg warmers absentmindedly.

it was only seconds after getting comfortable that sirius sauntered over to you to update you on the conversation he'd had with georgie about her pets and brothers.

"sirius black," you mumbled, "inaccurately labeled hogwarts most skilled player."

he scrunched up his face, "what'd you say?"

"i said- y'know what you're not going to remember any of this anyway. where's georgie?"

your easily distracted oaf of a best friend looked at the two drinks he held and almost spilt one to smack his forehead, "right! gotta go! look around for other psychos who came here against their will to read!"

surprisingly, you found a few, and made moments of conversation before both ends dropped it and returned to their reading, quite content.

it was half an hour after the chaos had cleared and you'd tidied up while your friends crashed on sofas all around you, that you spotted sirius and georgie in the corner, still awake and trying to take their respective eyeliners off.

you assisted and sirius laughed, "you're like my sister. see the resemblance?"

the latter line was directed at his date, who solemnly agreed, "almost identical!"

the two stared for a split second before breaking into fits of giggles, sirius calling out a hurried, "thanks bug!" as you left, flipping him off with an affectionate smile, to your far more welcoming bed.

all you'd learnt from tonight was that hitting sirius with old literature had no real offputting consequences.

taglist:

@anordinarymuse @ell0ra-br3kk3r @kingshitonly @slut4benbarnes

#starstruckwillows #marauders #marauders era #fluff #platonic #sirius black x reader fluff #sirius black #sirius black x platonic!reader #x reader #platonic!reader #platonic!sirius black #platonic sirius black #ravenclaw!reader #sirius black x ravenclaw!reader #fem!reader #sirius black x fem!reader #introvert!reader #introvert

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miyuhpapayuh · 9 months

Text

22. Vie

"Why do I have to drop you off? I really can't see?" Stevie pouts, pulling into the parking lot of the tattoo shop, simply named Tattz.

"Vie, I already told you that it's a surprise." Rod deadpans, "I'll only be a couple hours."

"Okay, fine." He unbuckles the seatbelt and leans over the middle console to give her a kiss, the frown still on her lips as he pulls away.

He chuckles. "C'mon, baby. Fix your face."

"Are you still getting it in the same place?" Her fingertips stroke his forearm.

"Nah, I want it on my neck." Her eyes widen.

"That's gonna hurt!"

"Eh, the pain is worth it, and you'll see why. I'll see you later, okay?"

"Okay. I love you."

"I love you more." He pecks his lips again, before hopping out of the passenger seat and into the black and brick building.

Fixing her thigh-length dress in the mirror, she grabs her ringing cell off the counter.

"I'm on my way down, now..... yes, I'm wearing the dress, girl!....okay, coming!" Grabbing the pink, heart shaped purse that Rod bought her and slinging it over her shoulder, she drops her phone inside and grabs her sweater off the back of her chair.

Locking Rod's door with her key, she slides into the passenger seat of the black '89 Jeep Wrangler, squeals filling the car.

"I know I just saw you, but I missed you so much!" Tyler pulls Stevie into a hug.

"I missed you too, sis! Where we headed?"

"Let's see... we're gonna hit the mall, grab some food and go back to this poetry club, so you can check out that girl, again. She's super good and I heard she's doing a new piece, today!"

"How you know that?" Stevie asks as Tyler starts driving.

"You're not the only one who likes spoken word, my dear. There's this guy that performs every Wednesday. On top of him being foine, his pieces are really nice."

Stevie shakes her head. "You done made your move, yet?"

"Actually, no. Believe it or not, I'm nervous. But, anyway—"

"Huh? You're nervous?"

"Yes, Stevie. I'm capable of these feelings, apparently."

"Duh!, I just never thought I'd see the day. You like him."

"If you saw him, you'd see why!"

"Woah, he's that cute?"

"I believe the word I used was foine.," Stevie rolls her eyes as her best friend practically drools. "He's about six foot three... high yellow complexion... honey brown eyes.. always keeps a low-cut. Ugh! Those lips, Jesus."

"This is a sight.," Stevie laughs.

"So is he." Tyler dreamily sighs.

Hands full with shopping bags, Tyler and Stevie load up the trunk and sit in the backseat, chomping on the oversized slices of pepperoni pizza.

"Tito's is never gonna go outta business if we got anything to do with it!," Tyler exclaims, a mouth full of cheese.

"If you don't chew that cheese, before you choke.," Stevie laughs.

"Mm-mm!," she swallows her food., "so, what do you think Rod's getting?"

"I don't know and I'm mad that he practically sent me away!" She huffs. "It better be fucking fantastic."

"You're such a drama queen, bro." Tyler shakes her head.

"No. I just wanna see, that's all."

"And, you're going to! Just have patience."

༺═───────────────────────────────────────═༻

Heading into the cozy lounge, high off their asses, the pair sit close to the stage.

Casually taking in her surroundings, her eyes set on him. The smirk graces her lips, before she can help it.

Tyler would never immediately admit it to Stevie, but she found herself falling for this guy.

"Ima start calling you googly eyes.," Stevie mumbles, chin in hand to keep her face from hitting the marble surface of the table.

"Shut up!"

"Where is he?"

"Right over there," Tyler reaches across to turn her head in his direction, watching her brows raise. "See! I told you!"

"Oh my goodness. He's cuter than any boy you've ever liked or... ya know."

"I know! you think I should say something to him?"

"Well, you said you were nervous. I don't want you to get in front of him and start babbling like an idiot or anything— unless, he likes that sort of thing." Stevie cheeses.

"I'm not gonna babble. I'm quiet, when I'm high."

"Still, maybe let him approach you—"

"He probably doesn't even know I exist!"

"I bet you, he does."

"What's goin' on, everybody! How y'all doin' today?" The lovely presenter, whose name is Chad, according to Tyler, comes to the stage with his own microphone.

"Dude's a damn trip, ain't he?" Tyler laughs.

"Indeed. He told me and Rod that we were the best lookin' couple in here. Oh no, he spotted me!" She covers her face.

"Hey, ladies! I'm tellin' ya man, you up in here bein' shy!" Stevie laughs, waving him off.

"Aight, aight. Enough of that., y'all know I'm bringing your favorite to the stage! She's got a new piece and it's fiya! Give it up for Suga!" The crowd claps.

He steps off stage and the auburn curtains slowly draw back. The lights dim like usual, casting an already dewy Suga in a natural light, making her look otherworldly.

From the gold in her ears and around her neck, to her hourglass silhouette in the olive sweater dress, Stevie was glued to her seat, ready to hear every word.

"How y'all doin'?," the enchanted crowd whistles in response, making her laugh. "Now, I'm gonna let y'all in a little secret. I was a little nervous about this one, but since y'all are my favorites... I'll go ahead and give it to you. So, here's my newest piece, sweet tooth."

"Honey on my lips,

I can still taste you.

Your scent fresh in the air,

Covering me even when you leave.

I've got a craving for you,

Even at the worst times...

I can't help it,

You've got me hooked.

The feel,

The thrill.

Touch me...

Kiss me..

Taste me...

Feel me...

Whenever you want me,

Come get it. Take it.

You've got me spoiled."

Snaps of approval fill the air, much to her liking. Stevie claps, due to her overexcitement, making Tyler laugh and reach out for her hands.

"Bro, calm down!"

"What??, she's really good!" Stevie swats Tyler away.

"Thank you.," Stevie turns around to face Suga, herself. "Wow, you're prettier up close."

"Me?! Have you seen you??"

An infectious smile graces her face. "I'm Suga."

"I'm Stevie. Can I just say that I'm such a fan of yours!"

Tyler's engaged in their conversation, when she feels a presence near her. She turns her head, locking eyes with the man of her dreams.

"Hi.," his deep voice thuds through her chest, "can I steal you for a moment?"

"I don't think she'd mind." A chuckle leaves her lips, as he helps her down from her seat to the loveseat in the corner.

"I'm Chris. What's your name, beautiful?"

"Tyler., but, you can call me beautiful, too." A low laugh escapes him, giving her a glimpse of his pearly whites, sending her swooning.

"Has anybody ever told you how fine you are?" she asks as she tugs on her bottom lip, shamelessly ogling at him.

"I've heard it a few times."

"You have, huh?"

"Mhm. I like when you say it, though." Her brow lifts as he scoots closer to her.

"Oh, I gotta watch you.,"

"What I do?" He laughs.

"You're too smooth. I'd get in trouble with you."

"A little trouble ain't never hurt nobody, beautiful."

"...speaking of my friend," Stevie looks around, until she spots Tyler cozied up. "Oh, she's good."

"He'd been eyeing her, since he stepped foot in here. I'm glad he took my advice and made his move." Suga giggles, sipping on her cosmo.

"Really? My girl was so nervous to even speak to that man! And to think, she didn't even think he noticed her."

"We sound like a couple of matchmakers, huh?"

"We do! But, I wanted to ask you something."

"Ask away, doll."

"Okay, so poetry is basically my life and I've always dreamt of going up on stage and sharing it, but my nerves have always gotten the best of me. Then, you get up there and started talkin' about how nervous you were and I just need some advice." Stevie stresses.

"Well, since I was young, I've been performing my pieces in front of small crowds. The butterflies never really go away, but it stops being such a big deal, over time. You just gotta be confident in your work! It helps other people perceive you as a big deal."

"Ugh, I wish that kind of confidence came overnight."

"Don't we all!," Suga laughs., "but, I'd love to see some of your work! Maybe, I could help you out."

"I'd love that!"

༺═───────────────────────────────────────═༻

"Baby!, I'm home!" Stevie announces, slightly stumbling into the house with her shopping bags, feeling around on the wall for the light switch.

"I'm upstairs!," he yells back. Finding the switch, she sits her bags on the counter and carefully heads upstairs, finding him standing in the bathroom.

"Hey," she slides up behind him, wrapping her arms around his torso. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too. You high?" He asks, peeking down at her. She nods, the goofy grin plastered on her face.

"Can I see the tattoo, now?"

"I guess, I've made you wait long enough." He turns around and pulls the bandage back, watching her eyes light up at the bright red 'Vie' inked on the left side of his neck, in cursive.

"Oh my... you did not get my name tattooed on you!" She gawks at it, lightly tracing her fingers over his skin.

"Of course, I did!" He chuckles.

"What about the flames and all that other stuff?"

"Well, I was gonna do that.. but, it didn't feel right. You felt right. Babygirl, you're my everything. It's only right that I get to carry you everywhere I go."

"Wow," the dreamy look in her eyes makes him smile.

"Do you like it, vie?"

"I love it." She covers the tattoo back up, pulling him in for a kiss. His hands sneak towards the bottom of her dress, gripping her ass.

She laughs into the kiss, reaching back to swat his hands away, "stop!"

"Mm., you look pretty, and that ass is beggin' me to touch it." He pecks her lips, reaching for it again.

"Is it, really?" He nods, kissing her exposed shoulder. His kisses trail up her neck, sending tiny shocks through her body.

Sitting her on the high counter, he wraps his hand in her ponytail, slightly yanking it back, earning a sweet moan. Their lips find each others' in a heated panic.

The minute his hand inches up her thigh, she grips his wrist. He grunts. "what you doin'?"

"Slowing you down."

"Why?"

"Cause, I wanna take care of you." His hand slides between her legs, anyway, cupping her drenched heat. Her jaw goes slack.

"You can do that... I just wanna touch it." Pulling her wet panties to the side, his thumb rubs circles over her slick bud. Her breath gets caught in her chest.

Closing the space between them, Rod shoves his tongue into her mouth. Her wandering hands move to his sweats, palming his growing erection.

"Mmm.," she comes up for air, leaning into him, "let me taste you, baby."

Sinking onto the fluffy rug in his bathroom, she grips the hem of his sweats, slowly pulling them down, revealing his thick and heavy piece.

Her eyes trail up to his, giving a wink as her soft lips press against his veiny girth.

"Soft ass lips..," he mumbles before taking his own bottom one between his teeth, watching her mouth stretch around his length.

"Oh shit.." she starts off quick, bobbing her head up and down. One hand in between her legs and the other jerking him.

"Mm!, that fuckin' mouth." He grips the base of her ponytail, slowing her down. Removing her lips from him with a pop, her hand continues to work against him.

"Can't handle it, baby?" A giggle intertwined in her question.

"Put yo lips back on that dick, babygirl." Doing as she's told, her movements slower and more passion-filled.

"Just like that...," the gravel in his voice sending a chill through her, while she attacks her clit with the slippery pads of her fingers.

"Shit... Ima cum..." she moans against him, suctioning her cheeks. His grip on her hair tightens as he gyrates against her mouth.

"Oh fuckkkkk," he erupts, his eyes shut and mouth wide open. She sucks him up, not wasting a drop. Lazily sliding him out of her mouth, she repeatedly kisses the tip.

"Stop.. shit.," he hisses, pulling her up from the floor and bends her over the counter, facing the mirror.

"You finna get it."

༺═───────────────────────────────────────═༻

"Fuck, just like that!" Stevie moans.

Her arousal leaking down her long legs as Rod pounds into her from behind, ponytail in a tight grip.

"Shit.," he grunts, watching her ample ass clap against his thighs, the tip of his dick hitting the spot that makes her clamp down on him.

Her hands claw at the counter as her eyes stay glued to the mirror in front of them, transfixed by the dazed look on her face.

"Feels so good.... feels so!— ohhh shit!" She reaches a hand back to pull him closer, eyes rolling back as her weak spot is located.

"Right there!, ohhh fuuuuuck, right there!" Pressing her chest up against the cold counter, he thrusts into her with brute force, her jaw dropping.

Her nails dig into his skin as her thighs begin to tremble., "I'm gonna cum!" The sweet lilt in her voice making him twitch inside of her.

"Cum on this dick," his breath hitting the back of her neck, making her jump slightly.

"Keep fucking me!, don't stop fucking me!" She cries out, the knot in her belly growing by the second.

"I ain't stoppin', baby... cum on this dick.," he repeats, his tone turning her to mush. Her back caves in as her orgasm rips through her tiny frame.

"Ooh shit!, you fuck me so good." Her words slur as she forces herself back upright. He lowers his lips to her ear and stares at her through the mirror.

"This my pussy.,"

"Yessss, it's your pussy, babyyy!" She moans through gritted teeth.

"Mmnh," Rod grunts, "takin' this dick like a champ today, huh?" She nods.

"I feel it in my chest, daddy." Her eyes shut tightly as a wave of pleasure jolts through her. The angle he's fucking her at, becoming too much for her.

"You got it, baby. Gimme one more."

"Uh! Fuck me!" Her brows knit together. The faces she makes send a chill up his spine.

"Shit... yo high, pretty ass... takin' this dick like daddy taught you.." he teases, gripping her ass.

"I'm gonna cum!"

"I'm right here... let it go.," their peaks hit, simultaneously.

༺═───────────────────────────────────────═༻

Reconstructing her ponytail the best she can, Stevie heads downstairs and joins a high Rod in the kitchen.

"There she is!," his goofy grin makes her laugh.

"I've got some exciting news."

"Oh yeah? Lay it on me." She sits on the stool and twists back and forth.

"I met that girl, Suga today!," his brows raise in excitement for her, waiting for her to continue. "I know! She's super sweet and she offered to help me overcome my stage fright!"

"So, you might be gettin' on that stage, sooner than you think! That's amazing, baby."

"I'm really excited!" She cheeses.

"I know, you are. Whenever that day comes, I'll be right there."

"I appreciate you, babe. How's work?" He sighs.

"Lee's about to break my back with these responsibilities, but if I wanna be manager, I gotta be ready for 'em."

"What's he got you doing?"

"I gotta close up shop, every day, now. There's a specific way that he organizes everything and I've gotta follow suit— that one works in my favor, because I'm OCD about stuff like that, too."

"Don't I know it. You had a fit, when I moved your towels around!," he waves her off, laughing.

"Hush, girl."

"Okay, okay." She holds her hands up.

"I'm just gonna have a lot on my plate, soon."

"Well, I'll be here to brighten up your day in any way I can."

"I appreciate it, babygirl. How's it been, back at the house?"

Stevie decided to go back home for a couple days, after Rod installed a new security system for her, calming her nerves a bit.

"Well, the first night was fine, cause Tyler was home. The next couple were rough, though. I felt like a baby, cause I kept my lamp and tv on all night.," she frowns.

"Aw," he rounds the counter and wraps his arms around her. "You're my baby."

She sucks her teeth., "shut up!,"

"I'm joking, babygirl. You want me to go back to the house with you?"

"I'd rather just stay here. I like your bed, more than my own." She laughs.

"It's that therapedic mattress, ain't it?"

"That, and the cutie that it belongs to." She kisses the arm that's draped over her chest. He chuckles, spinning her around to face him.

"Guess who's gotta meet with Mr. Big stuff, tomorrow?"

"You're so corny," she laughs, "are you gonna be nice?"

"I'm always nice, Alaina. As long as he doesn't start anything, we'll be cool."

She rolls her eyes. "Yeah, we'll see."

༺═───────────────────────────────────────═༻

Knocking on the green screened door, the pair hold their sweets, securely; Stevie with a pound cake and Rod with a cherry pie.

Viv opens the door with a bright smile on her face. "Oh, my babies! You made it!" She kisses their cheeks and pulls them inside and into the kitchen.

"You can sit those down, right there.," she points to a clearer spot on her counter. "How have you two been?"

"We've been great, ma. How you been?" Rod asks, his eyes wandering.

"I've been lovely. David's looking for you, as a matter of fact."

"Word?, where he at?"

"Out in the backyard, talking to your aunts."

"Cool, cool. Stevie, come on. Let me introduce you to my people." She gladly takes his hand as he leads her outside.

"Hey, baby!"

"Aw, you're so handsome!"

"Spitting image of his mama, ain't he?!" His aunts greet him in the same that Stevie's family did her, making her laugh to herself.

Briefly releasing her hand to hug and kiss them, he grabs it again to introduce her.

"Aight, aight," he laughs, "this is my girlfriend, Stevie."

"You're so beautiful, darling," aunt Monica pulls her into a hug, which she accepts.

"Thank you!, it's nice to meet you."

"You too, sweetheart."

"I'm Angie, it's nice to meet you." Another hug as the scent of vanilla hits her nose.

"You too, you smell good!"

"Thanks! I make my own perfume."

"She'd brag about it to everybody if she could., I'm Jessie. It's a pleasure to meet you." One more hug.

"You, as well. Wow, the genes in this family are strong."

"We get that a lot!" They all laugh.

"So, how long have you two been together?" Monica asks.

"Seven months." Stevie says.

"Going on eight, pretty soon." Rod adds, pulling her into his side.

"Oh, wow! A year, soon! You two are just the cutest! Aren't they??" Jessie rambles.

"They really are." David comes through the back door. "Hello, ladies."

"Hi, David," they reply in unison, making Rod suck his teeth.

"How you doin', man?" He addresses Rod.

"I'm straight. I need to talk to you."

"Aight. Let's go talk, then." David leads the way. Rod almost gets away, until Stevie pulls him back.

"Be nice," she pleads, pressing a kiss to his lips.

"Cut that out. I'm the definition of nice." He repeats her gesture, adding a kiss on her nose, before disappearing.

"That boy's a card, yeah?" Viv joins them outside.

"If that ain't the word for him, I don't know what is. I just hope he don't go out there, actin' a fool."

"Big man like David'll knock him down to size," they both laugh.

"Does he not like him?" Angie asks.

"No." Stevie and Viv quickly answer.

"Why?? David's a good guy." Monica says, waving her cigarette clad hand in the air.

"Rod isn't used to me being with anybody, so the adjustment is just taking longer. I hope he'll grow out of that, soon." Viv frowns.

"Well, that's what this talk is supposed to do." Stevie explains. "Hopefully the tension gets resolved and Rod can see that David isn't a bad guy."

"So, what did you wanna talk about, son?" David asks, sitting on one side of the picnic table.

"Ima just cut right to it. You being with my mom don't sit right with me. I'm sure you're good to her, and I hope you are for your sake... but, I don't wanna see her get hurt." He cracks his knuckles underneath the table.

"Sounded like a threat," David laughs.

"Promise." Rod corrects.

"Okay, okay. There's no need for that. I'm not here to hurt ya mom. We've been friends for a very long time. You're not the only one that hated seeing her go through the shit your father put her through." David explains. "She deserved and still deserves better than that., you and I both know that." Rod lifts his eyebrows in agreement.

"True."

"I'm not gonna hurt her. She's far too special to me. I promise." Searching his face for untruths, Rod comes up empty handed.

"I'll lay off you... for now," it takes a minute for him to crack a smile, letting David know that it was okay to laugh.

“I guess you're not a bad dude."

"I'll take it." They stood up from the table, "glad we could solve this like adults." He pats Rod's shoulder.

"Not gonna lie, my initial instinct was to fight. But ma raised me better than that, and Stevie would've literally killed me." Rod chuckles as they head back towards the the small crowd.

"They don't play."

"No, they do not!"

“Now, let's talk about this tattoo I'm seein’, peekin’ from underneath your collar, son.” Viv grills as soon as he's back in her grasp.

“Ah, come on ma. You don't like it?”

“If you like it, that's all that matters chy.”

@thegifstories @blackerthings @ghostfacekill-monger @sheabuttahwrites @honestpreference @starcrossedxwriter @abeautifulmindexposed @essaysbyciara @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @blowmymbackout @awerkofart

#soulff #rod and stevie #rod x stevie #stevie x rod #miyuhpapayuh #poc writers #blackwriters #black romance #90s romance #90s drama #black writers #black ocs #black fiction #black!reader #joey badass fic #joey bada$$

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dontbotherwiththepronunciation · 9 months

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Theon survey songs + links:

@feed-me-a-penny and @team-mom-wannabe In case you still want to see the songs that have been submitted until now.

I found an acoustic version of the song Worms by Lolly Jane Blue on a Theon fan mix once and then lyrics really latched onto my Throne synapses! Very ADWD chapters, I think

The Lighthouse by Halsey; What the Water Gave Me by Florence; Piledriver Waltz by Arctic Monkeys; Ship to Wreck by Florence; Stone by Jaymes Young; Let Me Drown by Orville Peck; Atlantis by Seafret; Wade in the Water by Eva Cassidy; I Don't Want to Talk About Me by Stereo Jane; Sail Away Sweet Sister by Queen; and honestly every song on Everything Ends by Materia.

SOOO many. Ooohhh boy, I hope you like long answers, because you are going to hate me if you don't (you probably already do, I cannot shut up if I'm under the guise of anonymity lol). In terms of poetry, I will forever love this quote by Jenny Holzer: "In a dream you saw a way to survive and you were full of joy". It's so Theon, and I actually have it tattooed on me lol. Social Skills training is also a great poem for Theon ([PRIVATE INFORMATION]... hits so hard for so many reasons when paralleling w Theon), here are some raw verses: "Gloria Steinem says women lose power as they age and yet the loudest voice in my head is my mother. Studies show that the mother we have in mind isn't the mother that exists. Mine says: what the fuck are you crying for? / Studies show the baby monkey will pick the fake monkey with fake fur over the furless wire monkey with milk, without contest. Studies show to negate something is to think it anyway. I'm not sad. I'm not sad. / History is a kind of study. History says we forgave the executioner. Before we mopped the blood, we asked: Lord Judge, have I executed well? Studies suggest yes. What the fuck are you crying for, officer? The wire mother teaches me to say, while studies suggest, Solmaz, have you thanked your executioner today?" Just literally everything about that poem hits me right in the Theon feels. Like, are you kidding me? Then The House That Dripped Blood by Mountain Goats is great for imagining Theon circa his Prince in Winterfell era. The lyrics are all about a house haunted by the pain trapped in there, which seems perfect for Winterfell imo. Any Florence + The Machine, but Heavy In Your Arms for painful throbb feels. Would by Alice in Chains has the right mood and great lyricism for Theon/Reek angst too! Then Everyone's Victim by Lisa Germano just has the right mood I feel for thramsay stuff, same vein as Would by Alice in Chains.

pearl diver by mitski, he doesn’t know why by the fleet foxes, cocaine and abel by amigo the devil

So many, a bunch of guns n roses songs, and dead hearts by stars

Dio Ed Io by Charles Wright, there are more but I'm all burnt out typing AHHH!!!

Cry for Judas the mountain goats "long black night/morning frost/I'm still here/ but all is lost" There is a light that never goes out The smiths. Robb and Theon vibes "to die by your side/ is such a heavenly way to die"

“archers never made good kings, fly headfirst into everything” -archers, the ballroom thieves

Almost Human (Aurelio Voltaire) for the Lucifer association

Putting the dog to sleep by the antlers!

call them brothers - regina spektor (that’s it, it’s split, it won’t recover just frame the halves and call them brothers find your fathers and your mothers if you remember who they are over and over they call us their friends can’t we find something else to pretend? like nobody won and we’re safe at the end) that’s okay - the hush sound (you were a child who was made of glass you carried a black heart passed down from your dad if somebody loved you they’d tell you by now we all turn away when you’re down you want to go back to where you felt safe to hear your brother’s laughter, see your mother’s face your childhood home is just powder-white bones and you’ll never find your way back) house of wolves - my chemical romance (well, i think i’m gonna burn in hell everybody burn the house right down and say what i want to say tell me i’m an angel / take this to my grave tell me i’m a bad man / kick me like a stray) mama - my chemical romance (well mother, what the war did to my legs and to my tongue you should have raised a baby girl i should have been a better son if you can coddle the infection they can amputate at once i should have been - i should have been a better son) JUDAS - the reverent marigold (god knew his face and held it but it still didn’t save him and i see far horizons where the lambs lie with the lions but there are poppies growing over where my friends are lying and paul had an old name, but we never use it you may call me traitor but my lover calls me judas)

i have a playlist, some accidentally theon lyrics i enjoyed is bad medicine by liz green (...) For every man wants more than he, ever did before He’s still got no way out We’ve got no way out No way out We’ve got no way out of this So if my eyes turn black and my teeth fall out and my hairs caught up in rags Don’t give me none of that medicine ‘cos I’ll spit it right back out He tried so hard to fit in but he never really got a chance Before he spoke they burnt him, cut him, roped him and finally put him in the ground He said ‘I’ve been though war, and I’ve been though law and I’ve climbed that hill so cold Yeah I’ve been though more than you’ll ever know still they never let me go And every man wants more than he, ever did before He’s still got no way out We’ve got no way out No way out We’ve got no way out of this So if my eyes turn black and my teeth fall out and my hairs caught up in rags Don’t give me none of that medicine ‘cos I’ll spit it right back out Oh yeah, I’ll spit it right Yeah I’ll spit it right Oh I’ll spit it right back out I will spit it right I will spit it right I will spit it right back out

I love Mr. Tambourine Man for Theon. Especially this line: “Then take me disappearin' through the smoke rings of my mind, Down the foggy ruins of time, far past the frozen leaves, The haunted, frightened trees, out to the windy beach, Far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow. Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free, Silhouetted by the sea, circled by the circus sands, With all memory and fate driven deep beneath the waves, Let me forget about today until tomorrow.” I also love Hurt by Nine Inch nails- All the lyrics and the entire soundscape of that song is Theon to me. Absolutely intense and amazing. And I also love and associate A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall with Theon. The "seven sad forests" the "dozen dead oceans" the "newborn baby with wolves all around it." But all the imagery in that song is so cool and very appropriate for asoiaf in general .

Oh man, so so many but to name a few: 1. How Soon is Now by the Smiths ("I am the son and heir of nothing in particular" / I am human and I need to be loved just like everybody else does") 2. Sorrowing Man by City and Colour ("Sorrowing man, look how worn you've become. You once were lord of the barren sea. There's blood on your hands." / "Oh, how you have lost your way." 3. Crystal Ball by Keane ("I lost my heart, I buried it too deep, under the iron sea." / "I'm fading out, everything I know is wrong, So put me where I belong.") 4. Bravado by Lorde ("I learned not to want The quiet of the room with no one around to find me out. I want the applause the approval." 5. Hurt by Johnny Cash ("And you could have it all, my empire of dirt. I will let you down. I will make you hurt" / What have I become? My sweetest friend. Everyone I know goes away in the end."

iron by woodkid seven nation army (in a way) bones in the ocean under the water by the pretty reckless

"Oh No" by Marina & the Diamonds; "Bones" by Ms Mr; "The Ocean" by Dar Williams

i'm a marionette by ABBA starring role by marina and the diamonds asleep by the smiths i still have faith in you by ABBA judas by lady gaga california dreamin' by the mamas & the papas al andar by ABBA crucified by army of lovers i'm not coming home by the cowmen no more from into the woods oh i know by only natural waiting around to die by the be good tanyas

Smoke filled room - daughter

Gilded Lily : I remember when you told me it’s an every decision (Theon’s oath to Robb) But with my double vision, how was I supposed to see the way ? (Double vision : Greyjoy/Stark) Haven’t I given enough? Always the fool with the slowest heart (softie boi ) I know you’ll take me with you ( could refer to Robb or Ramsay as they die that they take a piece or the whole of him with) Every city’s got a graveyard (kinda makes me think of his prince of Winterfell era) Now I’m sleeping in the backyard (Well, his Reek moment ofc)

a spanish song by my fave band ever Fito y fitipaldis - Antes de que cuente diez (Before I count to ten) some verses i really like from it are: I got lost in a cross of words. They missed wrote down the address. I already engraved my name on a bullet. I've already tried the cannon fodder I already have everything under control. And someone said no, no, no, no, no That now the wind is coming from the other side Leave me the rudder And someone said no, no, no. What will take me to the end? It will be my steps, not the way. You don't see that you always go behind. When you pursue destiny And I won't feel strange again. Even if you don't get to know me And I won't love you so much again. And I won't stop loving you again I stopped flying, I sank into the mud. And between so much mud I found myself. Some warmth without your hugs Now I know that I will never come back.

I dont know many poems but sinnerman by nina simon and sorry by karine polwart and some other songs in my own language :)

honestly.. robb and theon are kinda two ghosts by harry styles if you squint

All of Radiohead tbh

Pardon this next block of text where I name random music. I have to say something about the album The Downward Spiral by NIN being huge Theon material to me (the instrumental track named after the album is so TWOW Stannis execution presumably foiled by old gods activity. also Hurt but everyone's saying that. ummm THE BECOMING.). Ptolemaea by Ethel Cain. 1906 by the West Coast Art Pop Experimental Band is so Bolton Occupation of Winterfell. Avalanche by Kyle John Kenowski. Sister Europe by The Psychedelic Furs feels TWOW Asha and Theon returning to the islands or something. Sweat by Oingo Boingo. All We Ever Wanted Was Everything by Bauhaus young Theon in Winterfell. King Rat by Modest Mouse feels either Jeyne and Theon escaping Winterfell or Theon and the invasion of Winterfell. I think I'm saying too much but I hate having things out of context, but I can't just parrot an entire playlist here: these are all ruthlessly selected from my playlist on spotify called [PRIVATE INFORMATION] (Epitaph by King Crimson inspired me to make the playlist) that has these plus more but fair warning it's under construction for my reread I've been doing this summer :^) . Um. A Plague of Lighthouse Keepers by Van Der Graaf Generator but it's 23 minutes long and all over the timeline sorrrrry I like prog rock so much. On Kyra thoughts: Please listen to To The Dogs or Whoever by Josh Ritter for Kyra and the keys thoughts.

Remy Zero - Prophecy: You walk this world like you’re a ghost / Your hands are coming through the needles / Sick of your tragic and your evils / I am the keeper of the songs of everyone / [...] / This is a coming of the times / You are a witness to the movement / If all you’re seeing is your lies / You had your chance, but now you’ve blown it / You want this world so you can own it / I am the keeper of the songs of everyone / / Look into the sun and see your soul is dying / Used to feel the faith, but now you’re tired of trying / Should have left alone what you have stolen from everyone / Mmm, how ya feelin’? Seems a little sick to me now / / From the light on high / A chance to change your fate / Forgiveness falling down / On those who chose to wait / Remember the time / Find yourself home again / Deep within your life / Find yourself home again / Find yourself home again / It’s a choice / You have chosen your own T.S. Eliot - The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock: And I have known the eyes already, known them all— / The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase, / And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin, / When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall, / Then how should I begin / To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways? / And how should I presume? / [...] I should have been a pair of ragged claws / Scuttling across the floors of silent seas. [...] I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach. / I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. / I do not think that they will sing to me. / I have seen them riding seaward on the waves / Combing the white hair of the waves blown back / When the wind blows the water white and black. / We have lingered in the chambers of the sea / By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown / Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

Century Eyes by Shearwater (You are not the last of this house / Nor the first to go over the side / Remember the wrecks of those elegant ships / “Turn it off! Turn it off!” / Look with century eyes till they make you go blind) Two Evils by Bastille (I’m the lesser of two evils / Or am I, am I tricking myself nice? / If I’m a lesser of two evils / Who’s this man, who’s this act I hide behind?) Hurt Feelings by Flight of the Conchords (It’s my birthday, 2003 / Waitin’ for a call from my family / They forgot about me / I got hurt feelings, I got hurt feelings)

The Devil's Backbone by The Civil Wars

Lots ([PRIVATE INFORMATION I'M NOT GONNA DO MY COUNTRY DIRTY LIKE THIS] but a very tragicomical and delusional version), but I'm going to list purely English stuff for the sake of it: "Crucify your mind" by Rodriguez is my go to Theon song and I know no one knows or cares about Rodriguez and this might as well be one of those situations where this only works in my head, but fuck it: Was it a huntsman or a player That made you pay the cost That now assumes relaxed positions And prostitutes your loss? Were you tortured by your own thirst In those pleasures that you seek That made you Tom the curious That makes you James the weak? And you claim you got something going Something you call unique But I've seen your self-pity showing As the tears rolled down your cheeks […] So con-convince your mirror As you've always done before Giving substance to shadows Giving substance ever more And you assume you got something to offer Secrets shiny and new But how much of you is repetition That you didn't whisper to him too? "All these things that I've done" by The Killers has some vibes and lyrics too but god do I feel like an idiot for saying that.

#also the longer the answers got here the more I loved them.#speaking #asoiaf #theon greyjoy #theon survey

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wisedawn13 · 6 months

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#xiantober Day 28: Wandering Poetxian

Wei Wuxian travels the land on the back of his beloved and strong-willed donkey, Little Apple, in search of something.

He doesn't know what exactly he's searching for.

A muse of sorts, he supposes.

He wanders and writes poetry.

The thing is, despite his search and his lack of a muse, Wei Wuxian has become a very popular poet under the guise of Yiling Laozu.

When he has written enough for it to be bound into a book, he wanders into a town and the books get made and distributed.

He doesn't care for the attention, really. Wei Wuxian is quite content with the quiet, wandering life he leads as he explores the land and the nature around him. He meets plenty of people on his travels and enjoys many conversations.

But something is missing.

And then, he finds it.

His muse.

Wei Wuxian had wandered into Gusu and made his way up a mountain. There, he found him.

Ethereal beauty in the pale moonlight, skin like jade glowing in the cool mountain waters, long black hair flowing down a toned back, and eyes...

Wei Wuxian stares, stunned as the most striking light brown eyes meet his gaze with a glare. They shine almost gold in the light.

He shudders.

The man stands suddenly, swiftly dressing in his robes before marching up to him.

"What are you doing here?"

Oh... That voice.

Wei Wuxian could write for a year and never exhaust the things he could say about that voice.

Belatedly, he realizes the man is waiting for him to respond. He quickly clears his throat. "Ah, um... Wandering?"

He hadn't meant it to be a question. Oh well.

The man slightly raises an eyebrow at him. "This is private property."

Wei Wuxian blinks. "Oh. Sorry, I didn't know. I'll uh..." He awkwardly gestures back down the mountain. "I'll head back down and find a room at an inn for the night. Sorry again."

Just as he starts to walk away the man speaks, making him stop. "There is a festival in the town right now." Wei Wuxian gives him a questioning look. "The inns will be fully booked."

"Ah..." Wei Wuxian shrugs. "Well, then it won't be the first night I've spent under the sky."

He waves and begins walking away, mentally drafting the next few poems he will write when he gets the chance. Just as he reaches the spot where he tied Little Apple he hears someone following him.

"Wait," the man says. "You can stay here. I have a spare room."

Wei Wuxian freezes, hand gripping Little Apple's reins. "Are you sure?" he asks, unable to turn and look at the beautiful stranger.

A beat and then, "Yes."

He lets out a breath and turns to face him. "Thank you. I'm Wei Wuxian."

"It is no problem. I am Lan Wangji."

Wei Wuxian smiles. "Lead the way, Lan Wangji."

Lan Wangji's home is sparsely decorated and clean. It's nice, but it makes Wei Wuxian feel small with how big it feels despite it not actually being a large home. Regardless, it is lovely and he says as much.

"I will read for a little while before going to bed if that is okay with you," Lan Wangji says as they settle in the main room.

Wei Wuxian nods. "Sure, sure. I want to get some writing done so that's so problem!"

With that, they fall into a companionable silence.

The only sounds are the turning of pages and the swipe of the brush.

Wei Wuxian writes like a madman, getting all the mentally drafted poems down as well as a few others before he settles back and breathes. He turns to look at Lan Wangji and zeros in on the book he's reading.

It seems familiar but he can't see the title from this angle.

"Hey," he mutters.

"Mn?"

"What book are you reading?"

Lan Wangji looks at him over the book. "A collection of poetry by Yiling Laozu."

Wei Wuxian manages to choke on his own spit. "Yiling Laozu?" he squeaks.

"Mn. It is their third collection to be precise. It is my favourite."

Wei Wuxian's mouth falls open in shock, unable to speak. Unable to even think up words to try and say. He just dumbly stares at the beautiful, kind man across the room.

And then, he laughs. High and frantic.

Lan Wangji's brow scrunches in concern and he gently places the book down beside him. "Are you alright?"

Wei Wuxian nods, still laughing. "You're not gonna believe this," he declares before forcing himself to calm and settle.

Lan Wangji just watched him, confused.

With a deep breath, Wei Wuxian looks at Lan Wangji in the eye and says, "I am Yiling Laozu."

They stare at each other in silence for what feels like an eternity. Wei Wuxian's insides are crawling. He waits.

"You are?"

He nods.

"Is that more poetry that you've been writing?"

He nods again.

"Can I read it?"

Wei Wuxian falters. "Uhhhhhhhhh..."

Lan Wangji tilts his head (cute) and says, "If you'd rather I not, I understand. I was just curious to see if it is truly you. Yiling Laozu is my favourite poet."

Wei Wuxian makes an ungodly sound at that.

"Uh, yeah. Sure. But, I mean, it's not my usual work haha... I normally write about nature and—well, you know that already aha. Um..." He feels himself blushing furiously as he grabs the papers he scrawled onto and holds them out. "Here."

Gently, Lan Wangji takes them.

He starts to read and Wei Wuxian simultaneously doesn't want to look and can't bring himself to look away. He watches the minute changes in expression as Lan Wangji reads through the poems.

Poems about him.

Wei Wuxian can't move. He doesn't think he's even breathing.

Eventually, Lan Wangji slowly sets the pages down and looks at him. "You..."

Wei Wuxian squirms, biting his lip. "I've been searching for a muse for a long time," he blurts out.

Lan Wangji's eyes widen in shock and Wei Wuxian hears him gasp quietly. "A muse?"

He nods.

"Are you saying I'm your muse?"

Wei Wuxian swallows thickly, his mouth feeling so dry. "Yes," he whispers, barely audible.

Lan Wangji hears it anyway. "Oh."

He doesn't know how to read that. Disappointed? Disgusted?

"You may call me Lan Zhan if you wish."

Oh.

"Okay, Lan Zhan." He likes how that sounds. How it feels to say his name. "Call me Wei Ying."

Their gazes are locked and that's why Wei Wuxian notices the tiny changes in his expression. He's smiling. "Mn. Wei Ying."

Wei Wuxian smiles back.

----------

Link to thread

#xiantober #wangxian #mdzs #threadfic #mo dao zu shi #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #lan wangji #lan zhan #wei wuxian #wei ying #from twitter #wisedawn13 #fanfic #fanfiction

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mid-nightowl · 6 days

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can i just ask you abt all of them /j

how about....love poetry jaydick? and the girl gang one i love the title <333

waffle!!!!! ily thank you for asking, i am happy to gush about these two<3 <3 <3

so, love poetry was honestly just scenes of jason reciting poetry to dick and then four scenes later i realized i had a plot idea and the rest is history lol

the basic premise is that dick *thinks* he's hallucinating jason (specifically and often as robin) and is just not mentally well about anything. except! it is actually the ghost of jason! and ghost jason is looking out for dick, or trying to anyways.

“You can feel guilty over that, sure, be an idiot,” Jason huffs and [Dick] can feel the familiar exasperation rolling off of him. “Or, you can do something about it.” His words make him pause--they always do, make him pause, make him choke the rage and grief out--but he tilts his head and just breathes. He thinks. He’s clever, his little wing is always so clever. Or maybe, he just knows him too well. “Thanks, Jay,” He murmurs, and lets his fingers curl around him. “A man takes his sadness and / throws it away / but then he’s still left with his hands.” Jason finishes, a wispy whisper against his skin, hands pushing him towards the ledge. When he leaps, cold determination and the ever present rage in his gut, Jason laughs. It carries him forward. It makes him fly. [boot theory, richard siken]

so for a while, ghost jason is reciting poetry/literature to dick and trying to keep him alive but then, jason's body wakes up, crawls out of his grave and is found by talia. ghost jason realizes shit is about to go down and not in a good way and gives a very vague, somewhat cryptic warning to dick before disappearing (aka talia dips jason in the pit and restores his ghost/soul).

and then a few years later, red hood shows up in gotham.

that's all i have so far, but i think it will have a hopeful ending. it's gonna be messy and dark first. i've been having fun plugging in some of my favorite quotes tho<3

and then girl gang girl gang GIRL GANG!!!

okay so this one, i'm honestly excited to write !!!!! but i have so little so far lmao. anyways. it's an exploration of the fact that jason is often impacted and influenced by women. Aka Jason has a (bad) good habit of being a feminist girlboss-malewife and his team-ups always end up as all girls plus him.

it starts during his training with the league, having a team up with lady shiva and cheshire, plus his whole thing with talia. i've also been thinking of combining this with another idea i've had about, instead of jason meeting and being close with damian during his league days, he was actually closer with mara al ghul (damian's cousin), so there's that.

then jason's besties with essence and ducra at the all-caste and also befriends rose wilson during his league days. then after the whole red hood debacle, he's close with faye gunn, and when he starts to dabble in team ideas (the budding outlaws!) he meets and befriends duela dent, artemis, and later isabel ardila; has a weird reunion with barbara, which then leads to him meeting stephanie (who decides jason is her new best friend). he also causes some chaos with selina and her team while in gotham.

i've also been thinking of adding a super, just not sure if i want it to be kara or not; also bette kane is a big contender (just not sure how to introduce her yet); and then i've been thinking about adding blackfire (komand'r) because she's so fascinating to me and i think she might match the whole outlaws thing a bit better than kori.

there will be cameos from kate kane, huntress, barbara + cass, onyx, donna troy, and harley, but i really want to focus on jason, cheshire, rose, duela, artemis, and steph (and hopefully bette, komand'r, and mara).

also, here's a text message snippet!

red hood: love getting sweet messages like this <3 *insert screenshot of text message* >black mask/roman: I don’t ever want to hear from you. You terrify me. Seeing your name come across my screen throws me into a panic< spoiler!alert!: why does black mask have your number???? ravager: there is something deeply wrong with you >>reply to ravager: red hood: :kissy face emoji: >>reply to spoiler!alert! red hood: i don't talk to snitches sorry spoiler!alert!: :sad face: not a snitch red hood: bestie you’re fucking robin or batgirl idk which, i don’t wanna hear ‘im not a snitch!’ ravager: shit are you fucking batgirl???? cheshire: :eye emoji: >>reply to cheshire: ravager: stay tf out of this spoiler!alert!: are YOU? red hood: -cheshire ten bucks she's sweatin rn >>reply to red hood cheshire: make it twenty >>reply to cheshire ravager: you two are the WORST >>reply to ravager red hood: stop being a disaster bi stereotype and we won’t have to have this conversation all the time cheshire: answer the question -ravager ravager: no i don't think i will spoiler!alert!: i'm calling batgirl >>reply to spoiler!alert!: red hood: snitch behavior cheshire: major snitch vibes

listen im so excited for this one but i actually need to sit down and write it lmaooo (may also need an actual plot idk)

thank you thank you thank you for asking bestieeeee ily <3 <3 <3

wip ask game here!

#waffleinator-inator #wip ask game #asks #(haven't decided if love poetry is a soulmate type au or if dick+jason were involved before his death)#dick for sure has a mental breakdown after jason's ghost disappears and then figures out who red hood is bc of the cryptic warning #there are so many options for girl gang + jason that i had trouble picking but i think this will be the main line-up #i honestly think the team might operate a lot like the birds of prey team just....more violent and chaotic lmao #jason's their token man team-mate but they love him despite his suicidal tendencies #i have a whole breakdown of mara and jason's (potential) relationship #but it also very much 'jason takes after bruce and adopts a bunch of baby metas and assassins (aka mara and the demon's fist)'#also mara has a red theme????? RED MASK RED CLOTHES; i think jason would love her actually

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ysbrydthespoop · 1 year

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Gorillaz Headcanons Part 3

After the forever cult incedent, Noodle subconsciously makes the decision to wear less pink and makes the conscious decision to dye her hair back to black. She is officially done with this cult shit.

"If anyone ever says it would be a good idea to start a cult ever again. I'm punching them." Noodle 2023, as they all pack up to move the fuck out of Silver Lake.

She never thought it was a good idea in the first place. She pretty much only went along with it to monitor it and make sure the boys didn't do anything stupid behind her back.

She regrets not keeping a closer eye on 2D. Admittedly, almost all of her attention was focused on Murdoc because she thought if anyone was going to end up getting themselves into trouble, especially in a cult situation, it was him.

Noodle thinks Murdoc is way bigger dumbass than 2D. In her words, "He's proved this many, many times."

Russel agrees entirely and will tell you, "I can vouch for the girl. There have been so many times."

The music video for 5/4 was ultimately scrapped because Russel and 2D were convinced that if it ever saw the light of day, social services would come for their assess and they would never get to see Noodle again.

Getting naked during a live concert, while filming a music video, in front of Noodle can also be added to the list of reasons why Russel has broken Murdoc's nose.

"I wish I was blind." Noodle 2001. Or whenever the video for 5/4 was in production.

When Noodle was around ten years old, two Marv and Harry level morons decided it would be a good idea to try and kidnap her. Actually, they made Marv and Harry look like geniuses. This was around time the band had really started to gain fame and success, and they thought they had chosen the perfect target. Small kid. Incapable of defending herself. Especially against two fully grown men. Wealthy caretakers. What could go wrong? All that resulted in that were two grown men getting the crap beaten out of them by a tiny child and then by three other grown men.

2D made her go to counselling after that, certain she was traumatised, but at most, all that incident was to her was an annoying inconvenience and an insult. They really thought she'd be an easy target? Idiots. Counselling probably did help her through events to come, though.

Even after regaining her ability to speak fluent English, it still took about a year for Noodle to understand 2D's accent.

Every Halloween, when Noodle was still young enough to go trick or treating, she'd wear a birthday girl badge with her costume, as per Murdoc's advice. Said advice would land her with a ton of extra sweats, to the point where all three of the other band members had to help her carry it all.

And because Noodle was small and looked a bit younger than she was, they may have gone a few years after she would have been considered too old.

The others all read 2D's poetry just because they it's something they like to do. But they try to keep 2D from knowing because they suspect at least some of them are meant to be private and personal. Exept Murdoc. He reads them to see if they have the potential to be turned into lyrics (or so he claims) and has no problem telling 2D if they're good or "rubbish." The sight of Murdoc sat on the floor, poetry spread about him, base in his hands. Trying to get his notes to synchronise with 2D's words is a sight 2D has long since gotten used to seeing. Quite a few of them have ended up becoming songs

2D took a degree in law because of what happened to them in LA when they tried to make a movie. He didn't want himself or anyone he cared about to be conned and taken advantage of like that ever again.

In the aftermath of the forever cult incident, there are two members that are under the constant watch of the others. Noodle and Murdoc have been watching over Russel since this whole thing began, and that's not going to stop any time soon, or ever, until they know he's going to be okay. Meanwhile, 2D was drugged for weeks, and they're praying he doesn't have any lasting affects.

Now that the forever cult is no more, the clues in the static have served their purpose and everyone, namely 2D, is safe, Noodle has only one thing to say to Russel "My friend, I'm putting my foot down now. It's straight to therapy for you."

Murdoc has only one objection to this. "Let us get back to England first, love! The bills here would bankrupt us!"

When Russel headed out into the desert, he unknowingly put Noodle through a nightmare. Well, it had been a nightmare for 2D and Murdoc, too. But she thinks she has the right to say it was especially a nightmare for her because she had to manage this shit. He didn't tell anyone where he was going or how long he'd be. He was just home one minute, gone the next, and this sent Noodle frantic. He still wasn't well, not by any means, and in his unstable state, Noodle wasn't sure if he was a danger to himself. The others didn't fare much better. Murdoc was trying to show them he wasn't worried, but you could tell in his eyes he was panicking. The only reason 2D kept calm was because he was still high out of his mind. If he wasn't, he would have had a panic attack there and then. But even in the state he was in, the thought of Russel being missing alone in the state he was in still made 2D worry a little. Cue a search and possible rescue mission that took all day. ALL DAY. With a high 2D in tow because 2D also wasn't in a state where he could be left alone right now and like hell was Noodle trusting Murdoc to be alone with him in a state like this. In fact, none of the boys could be trusted on their own. She wouldn't have trusted Murdoc on his own on any day of the week. Just for being Murdoc. So their so-called search party was just her looking for Russel while babysitting the other two. The ultimate low point came about four hours in. When the possible places Russel could be were becoming threadbare, and as if some dumbass had said "Well at least this can't get any worse", 2D started to come down from his high, and with it, down came the gravity of the situation. And that was when he had a panic attack. Russel had left his phone at home, making the tracker she put on it useless. So they had no choice but to find him the old-fashioned way. The gruelling, never ending, ever terror and dispare inducing old-fashioned way. When they finally managed to find him, it was a releif beyond words to find him asleep, looking more at peace than she'd seen him in years. But the smallest part of her (the part of her she didn't particularly like) wanted to let Murdoc smack him.

Noodle has decided the others don't need to know that she has now put a tracker on every single vehicle they own, along with every device that can support one. She loves Russel with all her heart, but she is NOT letting him do that shit to her again.

And then the next day, 2D goes missing. He goes off by himself without telling anyone despite still being under the effects of all those drugs. Actually, he probably went off like that because he was still under the effects of all those drugs. I mean, she found him playing a melodica while standing on the severed head of the demon that just tried to eat him, for God's sake. God knows what he was thinking! When she realised he was gone, her reaction was pretty much, "OH HELL NO BOY!"

How she managed to be raised by these three and not develop a severe addiction to nicotine is beyond her. Every day, they make her think, "I need a cigarette, and she's never once smoked a cigarette in her entire life.

One of the main decisions Russel makes while out in the dessert is to spend more time with his loved ones. Especially 2D because man did almost die, and if he had, Russel would have wasted the last year or so he had with him staring at a TV. And especially Noodle. He doesn't regret getting obsessed with static chanels and the idea of a promised land. Because if he hadn't, they might not have been to save 2D. But he does regret that he neglected everything else around him, including her, and now he worries they might not be as close as they used to be.

Noodle, on the other hand, has been worried sick about Russel for over a year and just wants him to be himself again. It's not going to take much at all to get these two back to being as close as they've always been.

#gorillaz #murdoc gorillaz #noodle guitarist from gorillaz #2d gorillaz #russel gorillaz

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nancypullen · 4 months

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A Monday in January

It's just a week before I start my new job at the library. I am cautiously optimistic. I know without a doubt that I can do the job and do it well, though I'm probably a bit rusty. My concern has been improving my wardrobe a bit. Lucky for me, the library has a very casual dress code, but I don't think they want me showing up in sweatshirts. That's been my uniform for far too long. I need one of those What Not to Wear interventions. Today I wore this sweatshirt, purchased from an Etsy shop.

It's actually perfect for the library because it's a nod to Mr. Darcy's insult to Elizabeth Bennett in Pride and Prejudice. I mean, that's literature, folks. Still, they'd like for me to wear business casual so I've been attempting to add a few pieces here and there. When taking stock of my closet I realized that I'm apparently a collector of black pants. Straight legs, boot cut, leggings, ponte, denim - you name it, I've got 'em. I need a couple pairs of nice indigo/dark wash jeans, they look good with just about anything. I have enough tops and sweaters to rotate. I doubt anyone will really notice what I'm wearing. But, because I have Xmas money and gift cards I traveled to Easton today to shop at the Kohl's there. It was so frustrating. I found plenty of pretty things, but the whole store looked like it had been ransacked. If I found a sweater or top I liked, the color I wanted wasn't available in my size. I refuse to buy anything I don't truly like, so if I want the cobalt blue but they've only got my size in beige, I'm not getting it. I spent hours in the store and finally came out with two tops and a necklace. I found a pair of shoes I liked but again, no 6 or 6 1/2 in stock. I came home and found them on the Kohl's website and ordered them. So that's enough of a happy ending for me. I'll always be tidy and clean, I'll accessorize and then slap on some lipstick. Granny chic! I mentioned the sweatshirt I purchased on Etsy. I was gifted a very generous Etsy gift card for Christmas and I've had a ball spending it. Look at this treasure.

I ordered a beautiful journal, and had a quote and my initials added. I'm filling it with my thoughts, my poetry, and sometimes my melancholy ramblings. If you love it as much as I do, you can order your own here:

Choose the color, your own quote or saying (whatever inspires you) and get to writing. Wouldn't this be a lovely gift? It's beautifully made and quite thick.

I couldn't love it more. It's perfect for me during this season of my life. I am truly out looking for myself. The mister is upstairs on a Zoom photo club meeting, I think they have a guest speaker or something. I'm downstairs with both kitties enjoying the quiet. I just downloaded a couple of books from the library so I've got some good reading for the stormy day ahead.

I'm okay with everything but a power outage. Let the storm rage, but I'm going to need to heat up my soup, ya' know? And speaking of books, I'm considering joining the Modern Prairie Book Club. Melissa Gilbert, who played Laura/Halfpint Ingalls on Little House on the Prairie has a company called Modern Prairie - I loooove all of it, the cookware, the home goods, the clothing, the recipes, everything.

I absolutely love the Modern Prairie Instagram account -

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Modern Prairie (@officialmodernprairie)

instagram

so of course I was intrigued by the book club. She mentioned revisiting old books that we all read once upon a time and discussing how we view them now, decades later. I laughed when I saw the first book choice.

Then I got nostalgic (it's been more than fifty years for me!!) and then I became curious. I think I'll give it a whirl. What's the worst that can happen, I'll change my mind and go back to reading Lisa Jewell or Liane Moriarty? No big deal. Best case scenario is that I'm able to recapture some of that sweetness and simplicity. So that's where I'm at on this quiet Monday evening in January - optimistic about the new job, but yearning for the past at the same time. I suppose that's normal for most of us, isn't it? Looking forward with hope while trying to hang onto the best of what was. Sending out loads of love tonight. I hope it finds you and wraps you in a hug. Stay safe, stay well. XOXO, Nancy

#Instagram

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oh-hush-its-perfect · 8 months

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okay guys so there's this tv show i started watching recently and it kind of feels like it's queerbaiting but i'm not sure because it's a reality show, so, like, these are real people I'm talking about. the show is called "Make It Big," and it's about aspiring artists. let me describe the parts i think are queerbait-y and y'all can give me your thoughts.

so one of the guys on MIB is named taylor, right? taylor is an author and poet, and sometimes his work is featured on the show. the thing is that he writes a lot of love poems but the gender of the person it's addressed to is usually ambiguous. and taylor has had plenty of female love interests and written stuff about those relationships, but there are other works that almost seem to be about his (ex) friends???

for example, he's got this one former friend— and they had a falling-out, but it happened off-screen so no one's really sure what happened— who is obsessed with Wuthering Heights. Like, he has a tattoo of Catherine and Heathcliff, and his social media accounts have some reference to Wuthering Heights in the url. After the two had their falling out, taylor wrote a poem using Wuthering Heights as a metaphor for a failing relationship?? and like. he even mentions "green eyes" in the poem, and this friend has green eyes? like i know it's nothing solid, but it's just a little suspicious.

but even more, taylor used to have this friend named charlie, and the two of them were SUPER close. like they were roommates at one point. and they too had a falling out (again, off-screen). then taylor wrote a poem that specifically mentioned something that the two did together: "I drew a heart on your wrist in Sharpie." and i'm sitting here like, taylor literally drew a heart on charlie's wrist, like, three episodes ago. there are other things, too, like how the two of them were photographed kissing at a concert?? but the show never brought this up, and never clarified one way or another if they were in a relationship??? there are a bunch of other things in taylor's love poetry and short stories that seem to allude to charlie, too, but nothing is ever direct.

then, like a long time later, taylor performed a slam poem about gay rights while dressed in the bisexual colors (blue jacket, purple shirt, pink pants), but when asked why he chose to do that, he said that he just "respect[ed] the community a lot" without saying whether he was part of it or not. btw, a bunch of the proceeds from that episode went to the Trevor Project.

not long after that episode aired, it was time for a pride episode, and this one famous designer posted a picture of a rainbow suit and captioned the picture something like "you'll never guess who on Make It Big is going to be wearing this in the new episode!" then, when the episode aired, this other character Lainey, who we HAVE KNOWN WAS A LESBIAN SINCE THE EPISODE IN WHICH SHE FIRST APPEARED, was wearing the suit. The problem was that part of the suit was body-colored mesh that would only work with someone who had fair skin. Lainey is black, and the suit didn't fit her properly. Somebody posted a tiktok about the situation a while ago theorizing the outfit had been made for taylor instead, and the guy who designed the suit dueted the tiktok drinking a cup of tea.

there has also been some gender stuff in taylor's poetry? like, for example, he wrote a poem called "The Two of Us are Maidens," in which the speaker was presumably himself. He's also written "from the perspective of women," like in the poem "Tommy," where he waxes poetic about kissing a man.

the nail in the coffin for me was him writing in a poem that he "used to love a friend of Dorothy." for anyone who doesn't know, "friend of Dorothy" is a queer dog whistle meaning "queer person."

but there's been even more questionable stuff. these are just some examples. so, like, I assume he's bi.

Meanwhile, other people in the (small) fandom get really upset at people who think taylor might like guys, saying that it's an invasion of his privacy and assuming anyone's sexuality is weird— even though they all assume he's straight.

what do y'all think? is this queerbaiting?

#so for those of you who didn't catch on #the whole 'reality television' thing?#it's a metaphor #but just as in reality tv #the public narrative around celebrities is one that is carefully constructed #this post was made in part to explain why some people think TS is bisexual #because when i put it in these terms #it doesn't sound so outlandish does it?#gaylor swift #lgbetty

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