#do I dare say that means a new music video is coming?

[madamevirgo]

Could i dare request rebecca Ferguson X her younger actress girlfriend? Like she is the new Hollywood face and its always in something doing awesome roles?

And becca goes with her to the oscars to see her winning for the first time and they are so lovey dovey for each other

Promises

Pairing: Rebecca Ferguson x (f!)reader

Words: 3k

Warnings: angst, softness, cheesiness, my writing

A/N: I want you all to know that I immediately started writing this after I finished writing & posting the Lady Jessica one. At around 5am, at its 6pm now. Also, I was going to pair this one with a similar request, but then I got sooo many ideas for this. I loved loved writing this! Thank you for the request :)

I put on my best smile as I stepped in front of the live audience where Jimmy Fallon was waiting for me. I was here to promote my new film, a romcom. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, our first guest tonight Y/n L/n!” I danced my way to the small podium and kissed both of Jimmy’s cheeks, taking the time to blow some kisses to the crowd before settling down on the chair.

“Wow, what an energetic audience,” I said with a laugh as the crowd cheered. 

“That’s right! The last time I interviewed you was during COVID.” He realized 

“Right, I did it with sweatpants on and from the comfort of my place.” He laughed at that. 

“I mean I’ll wear sweatpants next time if you do.” He said, and I extended a hand for a handshake to seal the deal. “Another thing that’s changed is you weren’t an Academy Award Nominee the last time we talked.” And I laughed as the crowd cheered. 

“It’s been quite a journey, Jimmy.” I giggled, feeling heat rush to my face.

“I’ll say! Let’s take a look here.” He reached down to grab a file and I leaned over to see what else he was hiding. He swatted me away playfully and I pouted. “Right, so since the last time we met, you appeared in a Marvel production, a role you’re set to reprise. You became a series regular for a book adaptation, appeared in three music videos, starred in a RomCom, attended the Met Gala, and got nominated for 5 awards, including the best leading actress. And still found the time to see me today.” He pretended to be out of breath, making me and the crowd laugh. 

“I’ll always have time for you, Jimmy,” I said with a sweet smile. 

“See! That’s what I’m talking about. This sweetness that you’re known for, I can’t wait to see it in the RomCom.” the crowd applauded. 

“I wouldn’t count on it. My character is quite different from me.” I said secretively. “And that’s all I’ll say about that. Go watch the movie if you want to know more.” I added as he opened his mouth to no doubt get more information.

“Okay, that's fair. But since we’re on the subject of love,” I rolled my eyes at that, knowing where he was going. “Is there a special someone in your life right now? One you’ll be seeing the movie with?” He added devilishly. 

“Well, there are multiple loved ones I’ll be seeing the movie with.” This caused the crowd to boo at me and I laughed. “Look, all I know is that I’m very happy right now and not lacking love in my life,” I said with a smile. 

“I guess your happiness is what matters ultimately.” He said with a sigh, making me laugh. 

“Thanks, Jimmy,” I said as I squeezed his hand softly. The crowd awed

“Alright, enough cheesiness. We’re taking a quick break, and when we come back - Y/n and I will be playing a game.” He said before turning to me to continue the conversation we were having before going on air, as the crew rushed in. 

———————

I let out a sigh as I was finally able to take off my heels after a long day, before dropping on the couch in my hotel room. Today was the last day of our press tour. We had just flown in from Paris last night and after an early morning, we spent the day running around New York for interviews. Some of them, I did alone - others with my costar who thankfully was a gem. 

Still, it had been an exhausting few weeks, and day - and there was only one thing that I wanted right now. I reached the coffee table where I had dropped my handbag and searched for my phone. I composed a number I knew by heart and waited. 

“Hello?” Instantly, my eyes lit up and a smile appeared on my face. 

“Hi, honey.” I started as I got comfortable on the couch. “Can I FaceTime you?” As soon as I’d uttered the words, I received a request to switch to video. One I was more than happy to accept. 

My smile immediately widened as the face of my girlfriend appeared on the screen. It wasn’t the same as having her with me, but it would have to do for now. 

“There you are,” I whispered

“There you are.” She echoed back and we shared a soft smile. From the looks of it, she had just woken up from a nap on set. I recognized her trailer, and I was suddenly aware of the fact that she was in the UK, in a different timezone. 

“I’m sorry we didn’t get the chance to speak these past few days,” I said softly 

“This is the life we signed up for, Y/n/n.” She said with a soft smile, although her eyes lacked the glint that they usually had. Something was wrong. “I wish we could always be together, but that’s not possible.” She whispered.

This caused me to frown. “Rex? What’s this about? This is only a busy time in our lives, and frankly, we’ve overcome bigger issues.” I said. “You’re done promoting Dune: Part 2, and you’ll finish filming Silo soon. After that, we’ll have some time to ourselves before the crazy starts back again. We just have to get through award season and then things will settle.” I said convincingly. 

“You’re right. It’s just - I was watching your interviews and it sucked to see you avoiding all questions regarding your love life. With the distance, it kinda feels like we’re not together anymore.” She sighs and suddenly lets out a humourless laugh. “This is so stupid, we’ve been dating for two, almost three years! I shouldn’t be so bothered by the distance. I must be getting my fucking period or something.” 

“Rebecca,” I say as my voice breaks. I had no idea she felt like that and seeing her so distraught, broke my heart. 

“I’m sorry, honey.” She says with that same humourless laugh that I despise. It doesn’t hold a candle to her real one. “I guess the long filming hours and going back and forth between Silo and promoting Dune has gotten to me more than I thought.” She sighs and rubs her eyes. 

“Maybe I could-” I’m interrupted by a knock on her trailer door. As she goes to open it, I hear voices, before she reappears on the screen, to end the call no doubt. 

“I’m sorry baby, they’re waiting for me in the writers’ room. I’ll talk to you later, ya?” I nod softly, the lump in my throat preventing me from speaking. She smiles at me before ending the call. 

As I stare at the hotel’s ceiling, I make a decision. 

———-

The second I step outside the airport, I’m greeted by the seemingly permanent English rain. It didn’t take me long, after my call with Rebecca had ended to get my things in order and get on a flight to the UK, where she was filming. 

Thankfully, the press tour for my movie had ended, because that would have put me in a very difficult situation, what with having to cancel some appearances. My girlfriend was sad, and nothing was going to stop me from getting to her. 

As I got into the cab that my assistant had arranged for me, I felt grateful that no reporters were around to hound me. It was still quite early and my disguise of a hoodie and sunglasses protected me long enough from the sight of the few of them lingering around. 

I didn’t spend much time at the hotel. Just enough for a shower and a change of clothes, before I was once again back on the road towards her filming location. I was let into the premises without too much of a hassle. I had the foresight to reach out to Rex’s assistant on the flight over and she had been able to grant me access, and before long I was being led to my girlfriend’s trailer by her assistant. 

“She just finished filming so she’s already in her trailer. I didn’t tell her you were coming as you asked, so she’ll be quite surprised.” She talked quietly. 

It was still early morning on set, some people were either starting to wake up or getting in from filming all night.

“How has she been doing?” I had a vague idea, but I wanted to hear it from someone who was with her when I couldn’t. 

“She’s been exhausting herself a lot. The press tour for Dune is over, but she’s still doing a lot with filming and being an executive director here.” She said sadly, and I nodded. “I’m glad you’re here Y/n. It’ll do her good to see you. I cleared her schedule for the day, so you could at least get some rest together. I know you’ve been busy too. I spoke to your assistant.” She said sternly and I rolled my eyes. These two. 

We arrived at the trailer and my heart started beating a little faster. “Thanks, Kelly, I owe you one,” I said to the assistant as I slipped inside the trailer. 

It didn’t take me long to find her around the vast camper. She was in bed, seemingly asleep. I approached her quietly and sat on the other side which had been left untouched. The side of the bed I usually slept on at home. 

I rubbed her shoulder gently, to not scare her. She opened her eyes softly and looked around, slightly disoriented before settling on me. I smiled. 

“Hi, my love,” I whispered. She stared at me for a few seconds, before sitting up and grabbing my face with both hands. 

“Y/n/n?” She said with wide eyes. “Are you really here?” She asked, roaming over my face and caressing my cheeks as if to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. 

“I’m here, Rex,” I replied with a smile before she latched herself to me in a hug, making me laugh. 

“How? Why?” She asked in the crook of my neck.

“You sounded so sad on FaceTime, I had to make sure you were okay. Plus, I missed you - so I grabbed the first flight here.” I explained as I tightened my hug and kissed her forehead. 

“Thank you.” She whispered. 

“Let’s get some sleep, and then we can talk about what you’re feeling. Okay?” I felt her nod and rearranged our positions so we were lying down. She immediately spooned me. 

For the first time in months, we slept together peacefully. 

—-------------------------

When I woke up, I felt much more at peace. I slowly opened my eyes with a smile, one which widened when I met the eyes of my girlfriend.

“You’re staring,” I whispered, my smile not leaving my face.

She put a hand on my cheek and caressed softly, before leaning down to put her lips on mine. Once we separated, she put her forehead on mine.

“How are you feeling?” I mumbled, not wanting to break the trance we were in.

“How are you feeling? She mumbled back, and I smiled.

“Better now that I’m here.” she rolled her eyes and scoffed. 

“Sap,” she said before taking a break. “Last night, I- It was a lot wasn’t it.” she finished. 

“No, you expressing how you feel will never be a lot or too much,” I added hurriedly. “It just kinda felt like you were on the verge of ending things,” I said quietly, I felt my heart beating widely as I held my breath. 

“Ending things? Y/n. Y/n/n, look at me.” she said as she grabbed my face in both hands forcing me to look at her. “I. Love. You. and it’s because I love you that I am finding our current situation so hard. Not being able to be with you or have you with me in front of everybody to celebrate our achievements. Or how we have to act single or like we’re just friends. I hate reading about the people they’re linking you to romantically. I just want to scream ‘She’s mine. Back off.’ And it’s kinda killing me.” she said as she leaned against the headboard. 

“I am yours,” I said as I grabbed her hands, willing myself not to cry. 

“I know baby. Just like I know you understand and feel the same way,” she said as I looked down. We stayed quiet for a moment, thinking of our predicament and what was being stolen from us. 

“The Oscars,” I suddenly said with renewed hope, as she looked at me in confusion. “I know we’re both technically going with our own cast - but would you go with me as my date,” I asked before quickly adding. “Unless - maybe our agents are right and we sh-” she interrupted me as I felt the doubt take over. 

“They’re not. And we should have never let them silence our love,” she said. “Of course, I’ll go with you. We’ll pose on the red carpet, I’ll kiss you in front of the camera lights and when you win - no one will cheer louder than me,” she said with a wide smile. I was quick to tackle her to the bed, kissing her all over her face. 

Her laughter made my heart sing. 

—-------------

This was not how I wanted the day to go. I was supposed to wake up bright and early, have some breakfast from her favourite cafe in the city delivered to her hotel room at the same time that she would receive the huge bouquet I had ordered weeks in advance.  Then, as we both got ready in our own hotel, we’d be texting like teenagers going on a first date, right until the red carpet. There, I’d see her and rush to her without a care in the world. I would tell her how beautiful she looks and we’d pose for pictures and kiss. Interviewers would have questions about our relationship, and we’d laugh our way through them. Rebecca, answering with her usual charm and wit, and me with heart eyes solely focused on her. 

Instead, my flight from Toronto had been delayed and I was rushing to get ready. I wouldn’t make it to the red carpet on time, with this traffic, only being able to slide in as the awards started. 

I had spoken to Rex when I landed and obviously, she hadn’t been happy.

“Hi, honey! Where are you, it’s kinda loud,” she said joyfully. I could hear the rushing around as her glam team worked. 

“I’m at the airport,” I said and closed my eyes, as there was silence on the other end. 

“I’m guessing you’re not going to make it to the red carpet?” she asked, and my lack of answer confirmed the statement. “Of course, it would’ve been too easy. It was stupid to hope th-” She cut herself off and let out a sigh. 

“Rex, don’t say that. This is nothing, we still hav-” she interrupted me as I tried to fix things desperately.

“I have to go. I’ll see you there.” and with that, she ended the call. 

She hadn’t answered any of my calls or replied to my texts since then. I wanted to believe that they had taken her phone away so they could focus on getting ready, but my anxiety was telling me something else. 

The car rolled up to the venue and I was quickly rushed inside and to my seat as the host was in the middle of his opening monologue. 

“And here comes Y/n L/n, everyone. She’s nominated for best leading actress tonight, ladies and gentlemen.” the audience clapped and I tried to calm my heart as my face appeared on the big screens. But the host wasn’t quite done with me, yet. “Doesn’t she look beautiful? Straight from a fairytale. Although, if I recall correctly, Cinderella rushed out of the ball, not to it.” he said as the audience laughed and I felt myself wanting to die. 

Thankfully he moved on, and the ceremony started. I was almost breaking my neck trying to find Rebecca, and when I did, I tried to catch her eyes - to convey how sorry I was. But she never glanced my way. I was so lost in thought that I would have missed my category coming up if it wasn’t for my costar grabbing my hand in support. 

I held my breath as the nominees were listed. And when I heard my name being called, I felt myself freeze, before being lifted in a hug and passed around from one costar to another. I willed myself to put one foot in front of another as I approached the podium under the congratulations and applause. 

I was almost to the stage when I glanced left and saw Rebecca’s face with a wide smile, clapping widely. That’s one promise that had been kept today. 

She looked beautiful, and it was as if I were in a trance as I approached her. Before I knew it, I was standing in front of her. She looked at me with a soft smile and with anticipation in her eyes, and that was all the invitation I needed to kiss her in front of all of Hollywood. That was another promise kept. 

And later on, when I posed for pictures with my Oscar and I danced at the after party, she was right there with me, as we kept our promises to each other. 

—-------------

“Hi, I’m Y/n L/n and I’ll be reading your tweets,” I said with a smile as I reached into the fish bowl for the first one. 

“Okay, this one is from @lesbianstan2000: Do you think Rebecca Ferguson uses The Voice on Y/n L/n?” I read before letting out a laugh. “She doesn’t need to. I’ll happily do whatever she asks.” I say as I wink into the camera. 

#madamevirgowrites #dune #dune part two #lady jessica #lady jessica x reader #rebecca ferguson #rebecca ferguson x reader

[herrlindemann]

Oor - September 2004, Interview with Richard

Three years after Mutter, Rammstein comes back with Reise, Reise with a more human sound. Guitarist Richard Kruspe explains why open laughter is allowed.

Has Rammstein gone soft with Reise, Reise? Not exactly given the criticism of first singe Mein Teil and the accompanying video clip. But the Berlin group has certainly changed. Look at those pictures. The militaristic and post-apocalyptic poses have given way to a more comical image. They have shot a few more series: at the edge of a swimming pool, on the beach, in the sauna and in a bullfighting arena. And listen to Amerika, and Amore, and Reise Reise’s title track. They are accessible and infectious tracks with a victim (see box). Self-awareness Richard Kruspe calls it. In 2004, Rammstein dares to take a step back from himself.

Los is Kruspe's favorite new song. It is also the clearest thing that Reise, Reise is a different album than Sehnsucht (1997) and Mutter (2001). Kruspe wrote it for Mutter, but it was shelved until they decided to play the riff acoustically. "It's not what you would expect from a German band, especially not from this German band. It is a simple, AC/DC-like riff, which gives a bluesy feeling when played acoustically. It's unlike anything we've done before," says Kruspe. And yet Rammstein, unmistakably.

“We decided that a few things had to be changed when making this album. For me personally, this first and foremost meant that work had to be less tense. Previously, the aggression in the music was paramount and the mutual friction in the band was also an important factor in the recording process. This time we consciously tried to leave the egos outside the door more. Give each other a little more space. And I think that's why this album sounds a bit more human than its predecessors. We used fewer machines, which was also a goal in itself. The live feeling had to be there. No more having to figure out our own songs afterwards, because we've been cutting and pasting too much.

We used to be more on each other's skin because… everyone had their hang-ups and because in a band with six people you just have clashing characters. Rammstein has no leader. All six of us are equal, which means that each of us fights for his place and there are sometimes endless discussions. That causes problems. In fact, it can lead to major crises. At the time of Mutter I had very clear ideas about how the music should and should not sound. I was pretty rigid about that, but luckily at some point I realized I had to let go of that and see the whole picture — a dynamic six-man group. It was a particularly intense period, in which I finally decided to live in New York, I literally had to distance myself.”

Kruspe was not alone in struggling with his place in the democratic whole that is Rammstein. Each band member has opted for a form of self-therapy.

"Of course it's quite a bit. Over the years you get a certain vision of your work and your music, which does not necessarily correspond to that of the five others. Just deal with that. When I once started the project — because Rammstein was a project, I didn't have a permanent band in mind — my starting point was that I wanted to work with similar musicians. Everyone has the same input. It has remained that way and gradually no one has ever allowed himself to be commanded by another. Maareh… There is always a kind of chemistry between people. Men, women, it doesn't matter. With the six of us, that chemistry is quite explosive.”

This means that Rammstein is standing at the mixing desk in the studio. "You! More bass! More guitar! More drums! That's really how it goes. That's why we also need a producer [for Reise, Reise was just like on the three previous studio albums Jacob Hellner]. He gets twenty, thirty percent more out of the songs. And the work would never get done otherwise. What we do notice, now, after ten years, is that some of us have become less fanatical. Not everyone has an opinion on every aspect of music. Can't either. But to admit that you have to turn off your ego. Well, that has now happened. For the new album we wrote more as a band. That is different from before and that is important, because when you write as a band, it is easier to discuss. »

Kruspe does not discuss the lyrics: “Till actually writes poems, not lyrics. Sometimes they fit, sometimes they don't. That is simple. Some of his poems have nothing to do with my feelings, but have such a strong story that I can go along with it completely. It helps that I've known Till for about eighteen years. I know where a text like Stein um Stein comes from. A man who bricks up his wife because he doesn't want to lose her. The biggest problem for a human being is letting go. That even plays a role in Mein Teil. To give things away, to renounce, to distance myself. Very difficult: Such a theme means that I can identify with that text. That's enough.”

A project, then, was Rammstein initially. Kruspe once shared a flat with Oliver Riedel and Christoph Schneider. Together they began to develop musical ideas, without any suspicion of worldwide success. Second guitarist Paul Landers, Till Lindemann and keyboardist Christian 'Flake' Lorenz later joined them; the latter only under the necessary pressure.

Kruspe: “With Mutter, Rammstein has made a big leap, especially in Europe. We have become a stadium band. But we never thought about any success. It started with an idea. We wanted to try everything. Success or no success, grow big or stay small, that did not occur to us. A band has its own dynamics, which you cannot plan. When we got success that was nice, but what do you do with it? A man must follow his intuition. Even if after ten years you are no longer as free as when you started, you should still try to keep working from a certain naivety. Switch back to the time when you were open-minded about your music. It was Picasso who said later in life that it would take him all his life to paint like a child again. That's it: learn everything and forget it again. We try and sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. Of course you can't take it too literally, because you grow as a person and you are always influenced by new things. But it is a good starting point.”

That said, Rammstein is not enough for any of the members to fully satisfy creativity. Kruspe doesn't want to limit himself, so he puts some of the music he writes aside for other projects. “New York helps me with that. When I'm there, I'm not so overpop Rammstein. And that makes it easier for me to write and play. In a sense, I've already put this album behind me and I'm working on new ideas. I'm working on now… I can't say too much about it. Not a band, but a nice project that will interest people.”

Reise Reise’s second single, is Amerika, with the irresistibly jolly chorus 'We’re all living in Amerika, Amerika ist wunderbar' (later it becomes 'We're all living in Amerika, Coca-Cola, Wonderbra').

“The claim that Germans have no humor is outdated. Germany has become self-aware in the last decade — and humor comes when one develops self-awareness. Amerika comes directly from our band humor. It's not a political statement, we don't do that.

I believe that everything in life should be in balance. You don't eat a whole cake, a piece is enough. A look at America shows us that there is a lot out of balance there. America controls the whole world and that is a bit too much. But it's not a black and white story. It is also the people themselves, in the US and abroad. I remember the first time I drank Coca-Cola. Dude, that was cool. It tasted good, it felt good, the marketing of that brand worked perfectly for me. Isn't that nice? It's just well done. Now I know how much sugar is in it, how bad it is for you. I make a choice. Anyone can do that. Coca-Cola, Hollywood… It doesn't take that much effort to look beyond that.”

Rammstein made his breakthrough in America with Sehnsucht. David Lynch used the group in his movie Lost Highway and a Lollapalooza tour did the rest. Kruspe: “I think that the theme and the visualization of Sehnsucht came at just the right time for many American young people. However, in America everything moves very quickly. You can suddenly be successful, but you can also forget it in no time. An American band therefore has to tour endlessly, visit radio shows, make a noise. As a German band that is impossible, because you already put a lot of energy into your own country and Europe. When we toured for Mutter, we found that we simply had no strength left to restart the whole story in America as well. Plus, after September 11, 2001, America took a much more restrained attitude towards foreign groups. Patriotism was rampant, even when it came to pop music. Now it could come again. Rammstein has a certain cult status. Rammstein is cool, you know. And in Germany it helps if you prove yourself in the US. They look at you differently. America remains the largest music market; if you grow up in Europe, you want to go there. Not for the music itself. Interesting trends and developments have long ceased to come from the States.”

At the time of their first album Herzeleid (1995), Rammstein was a band from 'the former East Berlin'. Today those words hardly have any value. Kruspe has seen Berlin change. West Berlin was a different world. The capital of darkness. A dark, depressive atmosphere. “When I ended up there, I didn't feel comfortable at all. [Kruspe fled east to west via Hungary and Austria shortly before the fall of the wall.] Yes, West Berlin was substantially Easier than East Berlin. Now you can also find a lot of merriment in the city. East and West have drawn together and that gloom that David Bowie, Iggy Pop and Nick Cave deliberately sought out is largely a thing of the past. I am someone who quickly feels at home somewhere. Not in the sense of family or friends, but in a general sense. In New York it is easy to get to know people, but it is very difficult to make friends. The city has so much energy, which I don't feel in Berlin. In New York, capital of the world, you want to go out and feel part of something bigger, of a whole. You feel lonely in your apartment. In Berlin, the capital of Germany, the situation is reversed. There you feel lonely when you walk on the street and it is nice to be at home. Now I still fly back and forth. A month here, a month there, so I can't say I feel completely at home in New York yet. I am someone who tries to live intuitively. I went from the countryside to the Berlin suburbs, then to Berlin itself, now to New York… I am a wanderer. After 25 years in and around Berlin, I also feel the call of other places.”

Back to Los for a moment. What sets that song apart from the rest of Rammstein's repertoire is the primal feeling that emanates from that acoustic riff. For once no associations with drinking and sea shanties, but American roots. Still, Kruspe says, "I've never been a fan of American rock culture. I liked English hard rock much more than American hard rock. Only with bands like Faith No More and 24-7 Spyz did I start listening to Americans. Metal itself bored me. The aggression of Metallica, for example, appealed to me, but I went more for the melodies of Judas Priest. What do I find nice Americans now? Queens Of The Stone Age. Dave Grohl. But I listen more to the latest Killing Joke, or the Cure.

My own guitar sound is very metal. Why? Well, why do men prefer to ride a Harley… A metal guitar wall is the best thing there is. I get rid of my inner aggression with it. But you won't see me fiddling for hours on all kinds of guitar loops, I find that boring. I once studied guitar for a year or two to get better, but don't ask me about my guitar heroes. I find Depeche Mode's Martin Gore infinitely more inspiring than any guitarist.”

#Rammstein #Richard Kruspe #Till Lindemann #Paul Landers #Flake #Christoph Schneider #Oliver Riedel #interview #translation #2004 #*scans

[lolamarlowe65]

𝓘𝓷 𝓶𝔂 𝓯𝓮𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 //James Hetfield

“The house next door was just sold, i hope the new neighbour will be nice.”

part eight of ? part seven

disclaimers: smut, age gap (modern day james), slow burn, cursing, smoking, drinking, kissing, mentions of a size kink, mentions of death, big girls stuff nsfw

Wattpad link

࿓ 𓋪・𖧹 𖤐

Chapter 8 - Unexpected turn

I didn't sleep much. Just enough to get me through the day. My mind was occupied with James's picture. During the night I grabbed my phone a few times just to look at it. I am the only one in the world who has this picture. It feels like a part of him; a very public character; is only for me and me only. I turned around in my bed thinking about what could have been his reaction to my picture. I thought that what I sent was too much for a slight moment but given the lingering lust we have for each other, I doubt that. He makes me so alive and I won't regret at least trying. I think so much and feel so much and nothing has even happened between us. I can't help but imagine being with him, at his side, not only for lust but also for him.

I'm trying my best to look alive at work. Pamela is in a bad mood. She actually entered the pharmacy and threw some papers on the floor screaming "motherfucker". She never tells me anything about her personal life and considering her pissy mood I won't dare ask.

The day is slow, it's like it will never end! The store is closed because we had inventory to do, then we've got deliveries and now we're cleaning and stocking back the shelves. I feel like I am dragged into the hell of one of Pamela's manic episodes. But frankly, it occupies my mind.

"- Hey Ann, can you put the TV on?! Like a music channel or something?!" Pamela asks me.

"- Yeah for sure!" i answer.

There's a TV on one of the shelves behind the counter, it's mostly used for commercials and stuff. Those give you headaches all the time and that's why I hate this TV. Except on inventory day, we put it on for music. It goes from shitty music videos to the old music I am so fond of up to interviews and lives. Right now there's this loud guy who's talking about some new exclusive interview with Metallica coming up next. Wait? Metallica?! I turn the sound up to be able to hear clearly. This must be the interview James was in San Francisco for.

"- Hey guys how are y'all doing?" the journalist asks.

Oh god, it is. I can see James clearly, he is the same. He doesn't put up a character or anything. I mean to me he is already very aloof and strong minded so I guess you don't need to change a thing when you're the frontman of a metal band. The fact is, his sweet smile and good heart doesn't disappear either. He mixes them both so well and stays himself. His voice is calm and his words are well chosen, it reminds me of how much I love talking to him. It makes me so happy. I hope I will see him lost in his music one day. Seeing him play must say so many more things.

I recognise Kirk next to him, he looks and sounds the same as when I met him. And the two other guys must be Lars and Robert. Who is who tho? Who is the one that would look the most like an hyperactive drummer boy? I could check but I'll let it go so I can discover it when time comes. If it ever comes. James looks so busy. They are passionately talking about their new upcoming album and their tour next year. I don't know if I will see him as much as I do today and this thought makes me sad. All the people I have an attachment to all go away at some point. I shouldn't think about it. I don't even know what I exactly feel about James. I shake my head around trying to get back to my work and get those thoughts out of my head.

"- So last but not least. James this question might be too personal but we know things changed around in your personal life. We'd love to know how things are going?" the reporter asked James.

I turn my head around. What a shitty question. "Personal life". It means what it says for Christ's sake! Still, I'd love to hear the answer. Just morbid curiosity. From what Stacy told me, I finally remember he got a divorce not long ago. I don't why but this information came back to mind now. Then he moved out here but we never talked about it and as much as I'd love to know about it in a more intimate setting and not through a very public interview I can't stop but listening to the answer. He is very secretive about it so I can't stop thinking he doesn't know what he feels about all that. He has this whole life build for himself, what could he possibly find interesting about a young chick like me? I know he's not doing all that just for my ass, but then, why?

"- Well man, things were complicated at first but I think I'm good now. Let's say "things" took an unexpected turn." James smiles and laughs slightly.

"- Oh! Interesting and are we going to know about this "unexpected turn" soon?" the reporter asks back.

"- That I can't tell you, but I sure hope." James smiles.

I think I turned red. I cannot be what he is talking about. Nah I can't. I'm not the centre of the world, even more of his. I play with his necklace around my neck trying to get all this out of my head.

"- Haha anyway thank you guys for accepting this interview, I know y'all are pretty busy those times." the journalist says before turning his head to look at the camera. "Stay tuned on this channel tomorrow night. Metallica is playing live for charity and we are here to retransmit it! See y'all tomorrow!"

They're playing tomorrow night? I think I will watch the live. I just want to see how he looks while playing, how they look as a band. I need to see this.

"- Hey Ann, the fuck you doing?" i hear Pam coldly saying. 

"- Yeah sorry Pam, coming right up." i answer.

She is right on this point, I just lost myself in my thoughts and the interview for a good amount of time. Let's go back to work. Time is so slow I don't know when I'll get out of here. I better work without a thought in my head to make it go faster.

I finally ended my shift and went to the hospital right away. Early in the morning the hospital called and asked my grandmother to come right away. Apparently, something in her analysis was not clear, they needed her to retake it. Their tone was pressed and I just hope it's nothing bad. Her health is declining those days and I was happy to know nothing was bad in her analysis but apparently my rest was short.

As I arrive I immediately go to my grandmother. They set her up in a room. Just for simple analysis? This definitely doesn't look good.

"- Are you okay grandma?" i ask, voice trembling.

I go and hug her tightly. I need her. I don't want anything bad happening to her. I just wouldn't be able to take it.

"- I am okay sweetheart. I promise." she says sweetly, caressing my head.

"- Don't make me a false promise. You know I couldn't take it." i answer, almost crying.

I can feel that something isn't right. I can feel my grandmother's anxiety through her body. I know she's trying to make me feel better. I know she's telling me to calm myself. But I can't. She's all I have left.

A doctor walks in the room and asks me to talk privately.

"- How is she doing?" i ask.

"- Well, I will be honest with you. Her arthritis is getting worse. There is a high chance she will not be able to walk anymore." he says unbothered, i almost started crying. "We want to keep her here on observation so we can figure out if we can operate on her and to make sure it doesn't spread to her other members." he continues.

"- Will she ever go home?" i ask.

"- Not constantly. It will be better for her if she stays here at the hospital for the time being. I gather some of her friends are also here, we will make sure she has contacts with them and that you can come see her everyday. But it will be better if she stays here."

"- You don't look very optimistic." i say.

"- I'm sorry miss." he answers, not sorry.

The doctor goes away after handing me the papers I need to sign for her admission. I won't do anything without asking my grandmother. My mom asked to get her out of the hospital in her last weeks. She knew she wouldn't make it and chose to stay by our side in the house. Without her asking me, I wouldn't have done anything. My grandma deserves this choice. The doctor was not very optimistic. She is probably going to have her last birthday this year. I am defeated. I want to stay optimistic, to say to myself she is gonna be okay and everything is gonna come back to normal, but I know it's not the case. Preparing myself for this eventuality actually helps me with dealing with it all. I go back to her room and sit next to her on her bed.

"- The doctor wants you to stay here until then." i say, crushed, putting my head on her shoulder.

"- It's okay sweetheart. I will stay here." she answers.

I let out a sob. Today should have been a good day. But it's not. My grandmother tries her best to move around to cup my face with her hands.

"- Ann. My beautiful Ann." she says, putting strands of my hair behind my ear. "You are a smart young woman. I know you understood this visit at the hospital will probably be my last. It's been a few months my health is not doing great and your mother knew it too. Your mother knew I would leave you not long after she did but I promise you sweetheart." her voice trembled. "I promise we will always be with you. Forever and ever. I know you will figure your life out. I know you will find someone who will love you as much as your mother and I do. It's gonna be hard, but I don't want to see my beautiful baby girl losing herself in false hope." she wipes a tear off my face. "I love you. I love you so much. Be happy." she says before finaling. "In the meantime, don't stay here all the time. Come see me everyday, but once you get out, live your life. I want to see you happy during my last moments." 

I'm crying so much. I can't accept the truth of this. I just can't.

"- Grandma... I don't want to lose you. I love you, stay with me." i sob.

She puts her forehead against mine and we cry together. Even if she cries like me, she keeps on her sweet smile, this smile that would always reassure me. That would always cheer me up and make me go on. It still does now. Even if it's hard. I will respect her wishes. I will try to live out of here. I will come see her and change her mind with my stories for as long as she stays here. I don't know what will happen to me after she's gone. But I will try it. Just for my mom and grandma.

"- My mind is good but my body fails me. I will always exist, I will always be with you. Like your mom is in this beautiful heart of yours." my grandmother reassures me.

"- Did you sign the papers miss?" the doctor comes into the room to say.

"- Don't you see my granddaughter and I are having a discussion? What do you think your mother would think of this young man?!" my grandma interrupts him. "She will give them to you, now leave her be." she adds.

Her response made me laugh. Her mind is still there and in good health. But her body isn't. Like my mom. Knowing that she will keep her character intact until her last breath makes me feel more at peace with all this.

"- Sorry ma'am." the doctor says embarrassed before walking out.

"- Don't let them piss you off. Silly little doctors who think they're better than you because they got a diploma." she rolls her eyes. "Know what you want and get it." she says.

I'm still crying. My head's a mess but I gather myself to sign those papers. Before I get out to hand the papers my grandma calls for me.

"- Darling, get home. Have yourself a peaceful afternoon. Get me my stuff tomorrow will ya? The nurses are very nice, they will take care of me." my grandmother asks me.

"- Are you sure?" i answer.

"- Yes my love. Come here so I can give you a kiss."

I walk toward my grandmother. She gives me a kiss on my forehead and hugs me tightly. Before she lets me out she whispers in my ear.

"- Would you get Stacy, Pamela and James to come here tomorrow sweetheart? I want to give them a word." she asks.

Stacy and Pamela I get but James? What does she want to tell him? It makes James even more important to me knowing that my grandmother thinks so highly of him. Even if I don't know how to ask James I will try. I don't know how he is gonna react.

"- Okay. I will. I can't promise anything for James. He is busy. I'll have to catch him before then."

"- I am sure you will, love." she smiles, hinting something.

She let go of me and I got out of the room holding tears in the corner of my eyes. Now, each time I will get out of this room I will not be able to know if this is the last time I see her. But I need to keep my head high and do what she asked me. Before heading out, I give back the papers to the doctor. I know James is coming back soon, I told him I would see him today but I don't know if I actually will. Deep within myself, I hope I will. I want him to tell me everything's okay. I want to open this pain of mine to him.

When I get home I lay down on the couch. I don't want to cry so I look at the ceiling with empty eyes while smoking a cigarette. This house is empty without her. I think about my future. My grandmother has lived a full life. She went for her passion, she travelled all around the world and met my grandpa, she had a kid, which she always wanted to have but she never put her work and passion aside. Do I want to travel? How to live off of your passion? Do I want kids? I don't know. My mom would tell me to stop thinking so much, she would say that I will see what will happen when it will happen. She is right. But I'm sure of only one thing right now: I will keep on living to make these two women who made me who I am proud. I just hate the fact that I am so alone in this. Putting my hand on my collar bone to touch the necklace I open my messages, hoping to see one of James, but nothing. He has seen my message. It's written he saw it. I think I'm gonna break down.

I hear a knock on the door and go up slowly to open it.

"- Coming!" i open the door.

"- Hey Anna." James expresses calmly.

"- Ja... James." i say, surprised.

"- Are you okay?" he asks me right away.

I didn't even answer him. I just threw myself into his arms. I hold him tightly by the chest. Maybe it's too much and he will reject me but I didn't think about it, I just needed to do it. James doesn't move, he doesn't do anything. I shouldn't have done that. I try to go back and stop hugging him but James holds me back immediately into his arms. One of his hands is holding tightly by the waist and the other is in the back of my head. My head rests against his chest and I can hear his heart ringing. It goes fast but peacefully. I'm pretty sure his music is not as beautiful as this sound. I can feel him trying to move around. He doesn't let me go but he makes me understand to take a step back so he can close the door behind him. That's better. It's more intimate and makes me feel more at ease. He doesn't say anything and just holds me without forcing me to talk.

"- My grandma. She has to stay in the hospital. She probably doesn't have long anymore." i say, very softly.

"- Oh Anna." James sight. "Everything's gonna be okay." he holds me tighter.

James lets me out of his arms just to hold me lightly. Looking at me, he studies me, trying to get how I react.

"- You are the most courageous woman I know. And I'm sure your grandmother is the first to think it. I know you will be okay. I know she will be okay. Wherever she goes. It's gonna be hard. I know. But your mind is strong and you will keep her in your heart, always."

"- Thank you James." i say, sweetly.

"- Hey." he says, putting his hand on my cheek. "I know that saying those words won't heal you or make anything better but I'm saying them to you to tell you I'm here." he smiles. "I'm here for you. If you want it and whenever you need it."

I look up to him and my eyes dive into his. How happy I am to have him around. Somehow, it makes my grief more peaceful. Because I shared it with him. Because he is here for me. I had very few people around me when my mom died. Apart from my grandmother, Stacy and Pamela. They all helped me with their presence. Having them around made me more tranquil but having James around I feel protected. I didn't know I needed to feel protected until today, but I do. I want to feel like I have a shield that's not made with my survival instinct. A shield that's made of comfort and hope and mostly a strong shield that you wouldn't dare to try and break. James is that. He is comforting, he gives me hope and he's strong enough to kick anybody's ass. I'm pretty sure, at the very least, his mind is strong, and so is he. And as long as he allows me around him, I will see him as such. James isn't only that for me, well, not the only thing I want him to be but that's still too complicated to say. I love the way he is here for me. I don't know if I'm courageous but I will try.

"- Let me get you something to drink, Anna." he says, looking for the kitchen.

I draw a mellow smile, letting out a small laugh.

"- Here James." i show, walking toward it.

As we walk into the kitchen I go and get two glasses out of the cupboard. When I try to reach for the bottle in the fridge James stops me.

"- Let me do it. Sit down and ease your mind." he presses.

I nod and sit down at the table. How sweet.

"- My grandmother... she wants to see you tomorrow." i remember.

"- I'll be there." he answers immediately. "She will kick my ass if I don't come so I'll be there." he then jokes.

I love the way he jokes around to make me cheer up. And it works like a charm because it does make me laugh. She will kick his ass tho. Tomorrow night, James is supposed to play live and I know it. Now, I don't know too much about the organisation of a metal concert but I'm pretty sure his day will be quite busy. Yet he accepted right away without any condition. While I'm getting lost in my thoughts James pours me a drink and gives me the glass.

"- Thank you." i smile.

James leans himself against the kitchen counter in front of me and locks his gaze on me. The kitchen is not very big, having him here, like this, makes it feel even more tiny. Not in an anxious way at all, in a tensful way. It's like the walls are shrinking because the room wants us close. I'd love to nestle myself into his arms and stay here for hours. Feeling his heartbeat, reminding me that I have to keep on and make mine beat as peacefully as his. But I can't. I won't dare trying. The quick hug I had from him minutes ago was so intense I can barely hold on. He made me feel better just with his arms, he made me forget for a brief amount of time about this day. Made me forget about her leaving me. James observes me, probably wondering what I am blabbering about in my head.

"- I saw the interview." i interrupt my own head saying.

"- Did you?" he smiles.

"- The one you did yesterday in San Francisco. It was on this morning at the pharmacy."

"- And what did you think about it?" he answers, keeping on his smile.

"- Well, I still don't get who's Lars and who's Robert but I recognised Kirk. See, I'm becoming a fan. I'm getting there." i silently laugh.

"- You'd be the best fan we've ever had." he smirks. "But I'm already jealous of Kirk so retard the moment you get to know the two others." he jests.

His dumb joke let out of me an honest laugh. I'm also a hundred percent sure I'm burning red. I know he isn't actually jealous, and that would be weird if he was, trust me, but hinting a certain attachment to me by making these kinds of jokes makes me feel so confused.

"- I loved the way you talked. I love the way you don't change from the James I know. Even if I don't know you much yet. You are so sure of yourself and you show it by using a serene tone, never by bragging or thinking you are better than the ones around you. I love that about you." i say, calmly, James keeping his gaze locked on me. "I don't know much about your music but you sounded so passionate. I'm also glad you said things we're doing okay for you. Truly." i conclude.

I think again about "the unexpected turn" he talked about earlier. I'd loved to know what he was precisely talking about. My heart tells me I am, but my reason tells me that I'm giving myself delusions. But yet, there's the necklace, the photo I have of him, all of this that I can't forget about.

James puts his glass aside next to him and straightens up from the counter. I see him slowly walk towards me. This must be about four steps but it feels like twenty. Sitting on my chair, he approaches me and puts two of his fingers under my chin.

His hand.

He lifts my head up so I can look at him. James is already so tall, looking at him from this perspective makes me feel so weak. I don't have a size kink. I swear. And I'm not even "petite"! He is just so much. So much of him. So much that I want. My hand immediately goes to his necklace around my neck. Our eyes connecting on each other's gaze.

"- You know that you are my "unexpected turn"? Right?" James states.

I take a heavy breath. I think my heart skipped a beat. James looks entranced by me. His eyes glimmer a different light. Something changed in the air. Something that feels like the whiff of his breath in my neck I felt the other day. My heart was right. He was talking about me. He sees me in his future. When he said he would be here for me he knew he wanted my heart. His determination is obvious. I can see it in his eyes. But I can see he is scared. I can see he doesn't know how I will react. I get to see a side of him that I would have never guessed about the first time I saw him. He is so beautiful.

So fucking beautiful.

Suddenly my head moves up slightly, desperately trying to reach him. James's head does move toward mine too and I feel his hand slide slowly in the back of my head, in between my hair, helping me to stand up, pulling me toward him. In between paths, him and I trying to reach each other our lips connect. He kisses my lips passionately, holding onto me like he is afraid I'd disappear. But I'm not going anywhere, I have never felt something like this. Lust, romance, whatever. Time stopped at the moment we connected. My hand goes in the back of his neck, trying to reassure him. Telling him, "I'm not going anywhere." His body straightens up and moves me so I can stand up. At this moment, our lips disconnect so we can take a breath, but those seconds must have felt like hours because we kissed again as soon as we took one breath like we are starving without each other. James pushes me against the counter behind me and I push his head even closer to me with my hand in the back of his head as a way of telling him to deepen the kiss. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I let his tongue dance with mine. Grabbing my waist he pushes me back even further and I hear him grunt before he sits me down on the counter. One of his hands stays on my waist and the other goes in the back of my neck.

This is the best thing I've ever felt. I wish time would stop and we could stay like this forever.

"- Last night." James says, in between kisses and out of breath. "I thought I was going crazy when I saw your picture." he kisses me deeply. "I understood. I knew I had to come to you. All the reasons I am so entranced by you I could see in this picture. I had to see you." he kisses me again. "I had to tell you. I wouldn't even have dared to think about kissing you but here I am."

"- James..." i whisper.

"- Here I was with my silly picture, thinking I would make you smile, thinking I could make your eyes bliss, before you sent me this and made all my effort go to waste." he pauses and smiles. "You are so talented and so goddamn beautiful." he adds, our eyes locked on each other's.

My mouth opens slightly to express how bewildered I am. "You are so talented and so goddamn beautiful." Nobody has ever told me that. Never. Even more with such passion and honesty. I am speechless. I want him. Everything. I don't even wait before throwing myself in his arms again, kissing and hugging him, giving him the opportunity of giving me a bear hug, that he takes instantly. Such a sudden act. An act that I wanted to do for longer than you can think. Just feeling his lips on mine is better than anything I have done thinking about him.

"- James... I... You..." i try to gather my words.

"- Shhh... It's all about you right now." James answer.

I don't know how to tell him everything. Everything he makes me feel. Everything I want him to do to me and everything I want him to be. He understands me so well and his answers make me even weaker than I already am. I smile and he kisses me again, my hands starting to play with the end of his shirt. I need him so much. I can hear him grunt as he slowly slides his tattooed hand under mine, grabbing my waist roughly, playing with my skin.

"- The neck-" i say, interrupted by the phone in my house that starts to ring. fuck it. "Fuck it..." i whisper.

James stopped kissing me as the phone started to chime but I take his head back to crash him back onto my lips. His hand is still playing with this little parcel of my skin, initiating an indescribable fire into me. He's my fuel, my fire, my desire.

The phone stops to ring but bips, letting the person on the other side of the line leave a message.

"- Hey Ann... It's Stacy... I know you've had a shitty day but I really need you there." i can hear her hesitate. "Well... something happened. I tried your phone but as always, you leave it on silent. If you hear this, just know I left my door unlocked, see you soon!" Stacy concludes.

Her tone is sad and struggling and I feel guilty not hearing my phone ringing. If she had to call on the house phone then she was really desperate. I can feel James's hand let go of my waist to put a messy strand of my hair behind my ear.

"- Go." James says. "She needs you."

"- Are you sure?" i ask.

"- What do you think? Your friend needs you. I don't even have a say in this." he smiles, kissing my lips quickly.

James is such a sweetheart. I don't want this moment to end. But my best friend needs me and I will be here for her. Smiling, I can see him trying to gather his words.

"- Listen Anna. I want to do things right. I want you, but I don't want you to think I just want to play with you." he suspends, studying my expressions. "Let me take you on a date. One date."

"- Yes James. Show me everything about you. Take me anywhere." i answer, my arms wrapped around his neck.

"- Then come to my gig tomorrow night, I want you to see me play. Then the rest of the evening is for you, all for you." he pauses. "I will never accept you not having what you deserve." he concludes, one arm around my waist, one hand playing with my hair. "You deserve a date, you deserve something that's done right."

I nod. Delighted by this news. My whole life is changing and at least I'm glad James is a part of my new world. I want to see him play, I want to have a nice evening with him. I want to know him more deeply. I love the way he talks to me, I can't believe he thinks so highly of me, I can't believe anybody would ever treat me as good as he does in my life. Just for that, I don't wanna let it go. I was afraid my age would be a problem for him, I was afraid it would just be me. But he takes it seriously. And if I didn't have enough proof I can just look at the fire in his eyes, I can just feel his heartbeat. His body and mind work together to show me how honest he is. My eyes glimmering, happy the universe sent him to me in this weird period of my life. "Thank you mom" I say to myself chuckling.

"- Let me drive you at Stacy's." James interrupts, still playing with my hair.

I nod, I don't feel like driving right now. As I'll probably stay over at Stacy's tonight and go to the hospital with her tomorrow, using my car is useless anyway. Having more time with James isn't. Going down the counter I follow James to his car.

The ride is peaceful because I spend it looking at his expressions while he drives and I give him the instructions as to where Stacy lives. When he notices it he lets out a laugh and gives me quick looks trying to stay focused on the road. As we arrive, I thank him and get out of the car. Before I could go, he gets out of the car and asks me to come here. As I get to him, I feel a breeze and hold my arms together. I left home without taking anything other than my bag and I forgot my jacket, even if the weather is hot, the breeze in the evening is still cold. I'll take one of Stacy's for tomorrow, it's okay.

"- Here, take that." James says, putting his leather jacket on my shoulders.

"- I can take one of Stacy's, it's okay James." i smile.

"- I don't care." he teasingly smiles. "You look so good when you wear my things." he adds, looking at the necklace.

"- Okay." i answer, burning red. 

His smell is impregnated on his jacket. I wish I could tease him back by giving him something with my smell on. Giving him my panties maybe is too much now but I would if I could easily take them out. I laugh at my dirty thoughts and I kiss his cheek as a thank you. Before I go James takes my wrist in his hand. This hand of course.

"- Send me a text before you go to sleep, just so I know you are okay and safe because if you don't, I'll come rescue you."

"- Don't tempt me, Mr. Hetfield." i conclude, walking towards Stacy's place.

I can't believe how well he treats me. I can't believe he made me actually feel good on a shitty day like this. I can't believe I will get to have that again tomorrow. I can't believe James is real.

࿓ 𓋪・𖧹 𖤐

A/N : i’m sorry it took me so long to write it, i got sick and all. hope you enjoy it because i loves writing it <33 just imagine living that with james aargh

#james hetfield #james hetfield smut #james hetfield fanfiction #metallica #metallica smut #metallica fanfiction #lola’s delusions

[thatblackravenclaw]

Hazy Sex

Masterlist

author note: this was way longer than i intended. Eddie seems pretty popular right now and i have the hugest crush on him so what the hell.

Eddie Munson x Sinclair!fem!reader

word count: 3.2k (my new longest fic)

warning(s): cursing, drug use, smut, nasty smut, protected sex!, oral, p in v, dry humping, hint of cockwarming, facesitting, clit stimulation, kind of a sub eddie but maybe a switch? you decide. same with reader

Hate this damn club. “Join Yearbook! It would be fun!” I said. This is far from fun. Everyone is incompetent. I can only stand one person and they aren’t even here meaning I have to take pictures of all these organizations by myself today.

I look over the list and see the Hellfire Club is first. Great. A bunch of nerds playing a fantasy game. I’ll actually never admit this out loud but I kind of want to learn how to play. I also want to learn to maybe, sort of impress Eddie. The thought of him makes my hands clam up.

I can do this. He’s just a boy.

After wiping the sweat off of my hands on my jeans, I pick up my Sony Mavica and notepad with the list of clubs and make my way towards Eddie’s club. It’s not hard to pick out. It’s the only room being used at the far end of the dark hall. I actually respect the atmosphere, but my nerves spike as I get closer to the room.

I knock three times as I peak into the room, but I guess it wasn’t loud enough as they continue with their campaign. I take a deep breath before preparing to knock again, but as I lift my fist I see a head with gold ball balls.

“Erica?” I ask in disbelief.

She looks over at me with semi-wide eyes.

“Y/n?” She asks, equally as puzzled.

“Who dares interrupt-“  Eddie stops speaking as we make eye contact.

My voice gets caught in my throat before I begin speaking.

“I-“ I start. My voice squeaks a bit. I clear my throat and straighten my posture. “Yearbook. I need a picture of you guys. They want more candid photos this year.”

Everyone nods their heads and continue on with the campaign. I let out a low breath that I didn’t know I was holding. I move to a corner of the room so I can get everyone in the picture.

I snap about 3 photos before switching it to video. I try to slyly make the video focus on only Eddie. As he comes in to focus I see him look over at me. In a panic I stop the video and move it down from my face.

The voices in the room begin to raise. I assume someone got attacked or something, so I just slip out of the room. I’m almost completely out before I hear Erica.

“Y/n! Mom said you’re taking me home.”

The room for some reason comes to an unwanted silence. I roll my eyes before responding to her.

“If you’re not ready by 5, you’re taking yourself home.”

I don’t wait for a response before completely walking out the room and down the hall.

The rest of the clubs go pretty quick considering only 4 of them were having meetings today.

After I finish up the last one, I grab my backpack from the classroom that yearbook is held in and I go wait in my car. I look at my watch and see that it’s a quarter to 5 so I pop in a mixtape that I made yesterday, filled with only the greatest. AC/DC, Bon Jovi, Run-D.M.C., and Michael Jackson. I would’ve added more, but cassettes only hold so much.

I’m in the middle of belting out Highway to Hell when I hear a tap on my window. I jump before looking over and seeing Erica. I roll down my window to hear her.

“What?” I ask haughtily.

“Are we going home or what?” I look down at my watch and realize its 5:09. I unlock the door and she walks over to the passenger side. Once she’s in, I lock the door again and put the car in drive.

I put my foot on the petal, but halt when I see Eddie’s van zip out of the parking lot. I watch it until it’s completely out of view.

“Why don’t you just tell him?” Erica says, disrupting my staring.

“Because no. Now put your seatbelt on.”

I turn the music up louder and drive home.

Once we get in the house, I go straight up to my room. I toe off my shoes on the side of my bed before sitting in the middle. As I reach for my backpack to get my camera, the house phone rings making me jump. I reach over to my bedside to pick it up.

“I GOT IT!” I yell out. “Hello?” I say to the person on the other end.

“Hey! It’s Nancy. Do you wanna get out of the house for a bit?”

“What do you have in mind?” I ask.

“I know a really good dealer.” She says.

I shake my head, knowing she’s talking about Eddie. I tell her no and that I’m about to hang up. She tells me that it’s not Eddie and that she’s picking me up in five.

I get my bag and put a change of clothes, so my parents don’t smell anything on me because if there’s one thing about weed, it’s loud as hell. I also pack my wallet and a bottle of perfume.

As I close my bedroom door, I see Erica standing out of hers. I give her a weird look before walking down the stairs.

“I think mom would find it very interesting that you’re doing drugs.”

I pause in the middle of the stairwell. I let out a deep breathe before turning my head.

“What do you want, you little shit?” I asked, not even bothering to hide my irritation.

“You know.. I really hate doing laundry.” She responds with a smirk.

I turn around and flip her off as I continue walking down the stairs. Before I reach the last step I hear a honking outside.

As I’m locking the front door, Nancy keeps honking her horn.

“CALM YOUR TITS WHEELER!” I scream as I speed walk to her car.

We pull up to the woods that are by the school. We aren’t walking long until we see a picnic table in the middle. Not only is there a picnic table, but there’s also Eddie.

“Nance, I hope you enjoyed your 19 years of living because after today, you’re dead.”

“Come on. We both need to relax and he’s the best dealer in town.”

She grabs my hand and drags me towards the table.

“Hello ladies.” He says with his infamous smile.

“Hey Munson.” Nancy responds with a smile.

“Alright whatever you need, I have. Cash only for obvious reasons.”

“How much for half?” I hear Nancy ask him. I take this chance to really look at Eddie.

He’s still wearing his Hellfire shirt. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him wear anything different. Not judging or anything! He looks really good in it. It might just be me but his mullet is curlier today. It’s also frizzy, but I think we have the humidity to thank for that.

In the corner of my eye, I see Nancy go to pull out her wallet, but I pull mine out quicker.

“I’m sorry, I spaced, how much is it?” I ask while actually making eye contact with him as he turns his head in my direction.

“For you? 10.”

I shake my head knowing that he’s severely undercharging me. I discreetly hand him a 20 before putting the baggie and my wallet inside of my backpack.

“Shit.” Nancy exclaims.

“What?” I ask, not sure if I’m gonna like the answer.

“I forgot I have an article deadline. Eddie?” His head perks up.

“Yeah?”

“Can you do me a favor and take y/n home?”

My eyes widen as I stare at her in disbelief. I can’t believe she would do that and I know for a fact that her deadline isn’t until next week.

I hear Eddie agree to basically babysit me and she has the audacity to smile at me as she leaves.

There’s a moment where we’re just sitting here, stealing glances at each other every so often.

“So, Sinclair, ready to go home?”

I hesitate. I don’t think I do. This is the first time that it’s been just him and I alone.

“Not really.” I muster up.

“Where do you want to go?” He asks. It’s not a suggestive tone, but it still sends shivers down my spine.

“Where’s your bong?” I ask, finally being able to maintain consistent eye contact.

His lips pull into a smirk and he nods his head in a direction. He locks up his little box and gets up, walking in the direction he nods in.

I quickly get up and follow him, almost falling over but catching myself before he can notice.

The walk is pretty silent since we don’t walk far. We ended up going to his van. He opens the passenger side, signaling for me to get in. I sit down and look around until he hops in the drivers’ side.

As soon as the car turns on he has Metallica playing at the absolute loudest volume. I recognize the song from their Ride the Lightening album, but don’t say anything. Not like he’d hear me anyway.

I don’t even get a chance to think before he speeds off to I’m guessing his place. I’ve only been in the trailer park once and that was to drop Lucas off at Max’s, but I’ve never been inside Eddie's. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous.

I realize that I must’ve spaced out for most of the ride, because I looked up and saw us pulling into the park. Once we’re parked, we open the doors in sync. I try not to shut the door too hard because it’s just common curtesy and I follow behind him into the trailer.

He lets me inside first and then closes the door behind him. At first glance, it’s quite homey. Comfortable.

I follow him back to his room and I wish I could say I was shocked by how he has it decorated. There are rock band posters covering almost every inch, his guitar is in the corner, and a boombox on his dressed surrounded by cassettes and cds. I gravitate to it almost instantly while he looked around for his bong.

“Good music taste.” I say while going through his cassettes.

“Thanks. I try.” I hear the cheeky smile in his tone.

“Mind if I put something on?” I ask as I turn my head to look at him.

“Sure.”

I go through a few before I find something that I never expected someone like him to possess.

“I never pegged you for a Queen guy.” I say shocked while putting in the A Day at the Races album.

“I’m a man of many surprises.”

I nod my head in agreement. When I turn around I see him looking at me expectedly with bong in hand.

30 minutes later

I feel so bad. I forgot to warn Eddie of what I’m like when I’m high. I have been laughing over thinking about catnip for the past five minutes. It wasn’t even just catnip! It was literally because I called it Meow-juana.

“Okay, besides bad puns, what else is there to you?” He says. Contradicting himself as he continues laughing as well.

“Uuuhhh let’s see, I have a tattoo going down my spine, I applied to a school in Philadelphia, and I’ve had a crush on you since middle school.”

Everything kind of gets quiet after I stop talking. The only thing being heard in the room is the boombox now playing Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy. I look over at him to see him giving me the same look I’ve been giving him for years.

“Middle school? Hm. Pretty long time.”

I nod in agreement. I don’t know where the sudden confidence came from but next thing I knew, I’m straddling his lap. I place my hand softly on his cheek.

“If you don’t want this, tell me now.” I say barely above a whisper.

He says nothing and with that I quickly lick my lips before kissing him. I almost moan at the pure feeling of his lips on mine. I keep it light. I don’t use any tongue or anything. Not really my thing.

His arms wrap around my waist, pushing my body closer to his. This little bit of friction making me want more. It’s as if he reads my mind because a second late his hands move down to my hips and starts grinding me against his bulge.

I moan into the kiss, spurring him on. I feel my underwear become moisten with my arousal with each passing second.

I reluctantly pull away from him before getting off of the bed and standing up. I lift my sweatshirt over my head and then take off my shoes and jeans, leaving me in just my bra and panties.

I bring my focus back to him and see his eyes move down from my breasts to my clothed pussy.

“I think you’re wearing too many clothes Eddie.”

My words sets a fire to his ass as he hurriedly takes off all his clothes except his boxers. I move back to my original position on his lap. I feel the weed wear off, so I reach over and get the bong to take another hit. I don’t want this wave of confidence to leave before I even get a chance to fuck him.

Once I hit it, I offer it to him and he takes another one too. The room in a haze as I attach my lips to his, but only for a second before I move them to his cheek and then down to his neck. I kiss around until I find a spot that makes him shudder underneath me. I bite and suck on the spot until I’m satisfied with the bruise left in its wake.

I feel my pussy throb with want, but I want to continue riding on this power wave of having him under my control.

I keep my kisses moving until I’m right below his navel. I look up at him to ask for permission. He nods his head, but that’s not enough.

“If you want me to touch you, you have to use your words baby.” I say, lightly crazing my lips over his cock that’s officially hard.

“Please.” He groans out.

I smile before pulling him out of his boxers and licking the tip. His hips thrust up out of reflex, but I just calmly push them back down and lightly massage them to help him relax. I move him deeper down my throat until I feel the tip touch the back of my throat. His moans are music to my hears and I can’t help but feel myself squeeze around nothing, desperately needing him to be inside of me.

I slowly remove my mouth from around him and move down to put his balls in my mouth while stroking him. It only takes a minute before I feel his cock jerk in my hand signaling he’s about to release.

“Stop. Fuck-“ He gasps.

I quickly move back and look at him, afraid that I had overstepped in some way.

“I’m sorry, but if you didn’t stop, I was going to cum embarrassingly quick.”

I chuckle at the statement sitting in front of him on my calves. He stares at me as I wipe my mouth.

“What?” I ask, feeling my face heat up at the attention.

“Come here.” He says in a tone that goes straight to my core.

I crawl up to him, sitting on his lap. His eyes gravitate to my boobs. I look down at them and then look back up at him. I take one of his hands and bring it to my bra clasp.

“Go on.” I whisper.

I feel my bra loosen. I take it fully off and he seems to be stuck. I almost laugh at the uncharacteristic shyness that he’s displaying. I once again take his hand, but bringing it to my tits this time. His finger begin massaging my tits, making me close my eyes and moan. My hips start moving on their own as he twists my nipples.

I still have my panties on but my wetness makes the barrier between my pussy and his cock almost non-existent. His lips move up to my neck while he pulls me closer, our chests now touching. I slowly grind on his lap as he hides his face in my neck. The sounds of whimpering escaping him and reaches my ears, making it hard to control myself.

“Can I taste you?”

The question almost passing me up. I look into his eyes and see so much want in his eyes and who am I to deny him?

“How do you want me?” I ask with a smirk pulling in the corner of my mouth.

He moves down under me so that he’s laying down on his pillows. He guides me over his face and licks me through my underwear. The action makes me grab the wall and sharply inhale.

“Don’t tease me baby. Please?”

I feel him move my panties to the side and kitten lick my clit. I place my finger in his hair as I lightly ride his face. The sounds he’s making sound downright sinful. I don’t even bother containing my moans.

My thighs begin closing around his head and my clit starts throbbing. I can’t cum. Not yet. I remove myself from his grip before standing up and completely taking my underwear off.

Our eyes make contact, his more confused than mine.

“Condoms?” I ask.

He gets up and searches through his drawers. His back is to me and I can’t help, but look at his butt. I have to resist the urge to squeeze it.

He turns around and I quickly move my eyes back upwards. I’m pretty much caught, but I smile at him anyway.

“I only have one.” He says with a grimace.

I shrug my shoulders.

‘We’ll just do more positions next time.” I say.

He sits on the edge of the bed and puts the condom on. When he’s done I get back on his lap while having him slide inside of me. I clench and moan at the invasion. He curses as he bottoms out.

We sit still for a minute as I warm him. I wrap my arms around him to bring him closer and whisper praises in his ears as he slowly thrusts in me.

He somehow gets deeper and I’m rendered speechless. I feel bad for not being able to say anything besides letting out breathy moans and leaving little kisses on whatever piece of skin I can find.

“You’re doing so good taking all of me.” He says to me.

I start meeting his thrusts, becoming more impatient. His groans fill the room as his pace picks up. A “fuck” escapes my lips with thrusts.

His thumb reaches between us and start rubbing my already throbbing clit. I mewl at the sensation.

“Cum for me Eddie. I need your cum.” I say in his ear.

I feel the buildup snap as I cum hard. My juices making a noise with the slap of skin against each other.

His arms wrap around my waist again but tighter as he cums too.

I rub my hands down his back as he fucks me through his orgasm.

“Good boy,” I say to him before kissing his cheek.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things smut

[luigiblood]

Game Ownership

In sort of a response to the Ubisoft director of subscriptions where he said that we need to get more confortable not owning games...

Well, reading that interview from GamesIndustry.biz, turns out he never really said that. It's more of an observation of the gaming subscription services, and comparing different views. It's actually a pretty interesting read.

But the negative response to the more clickbait part where the gamers went very much against this from the get go was something that particularly striked me as how I really just didn't feel like I was part of those who responded like this.

I do not care about owning games that much. I may be a owner of retro consoles, games, and about 50 Switch physical games, but the reasons ranges from passion to just practical and economical.

Taking the example of the Switch, what currently makes me attached to physical games are more of how it's usually cheaper in my country (like, first party games day one tend to be 25% off brand new), and the practicality when you live in a household with 2 Switch systems, it's just easier to share the games that way with your family. If I could just buy digitally with the same advantages, I'd just do that.

This view on game ownership has mostly to do with my past of a guy who pirated games and movies like crazy before we got a little more comfortable paying for stuff. But this past also comes with a deeper importance on the presence of data locally. Cloud gaming is something I hate on passionately if the industry keeps going on that as a means to play games exclusively. It would be the kind of thing that would make my heart broken about modern gaming as a whole, but thankfully we're not even close to there, and I suspect we'll never be.

But I could also not need to pay for the games, I don't really see a lack of ownership as a problem on its own. The only thing that matters is if it's practical or not, and that's the part that feels like it tends to be skipped when explained. That's how it went about movies and music.

That practicality is critical, and that is the part that's the most in danger. The big reason why is how companies can decide on a whim what is accessible to suit their needs. That WILL be completely in the process of enshittification due to how companies have to keep growing until it makes no more sense. You don't even need to look very far to understand this, video streaming services are already very good at doing absolutely this, but I also dare say the Game Pass and PlayStation Plus are on a similar boat to a different extent, though.

One of the recent examples of how bad shit is HBO Max's removal of a huge amount of content just for a massive tax write down. There is financial incentive to fuck us all, and I consider the future to do absolutely that in the long term for gaming.

That kind of thing SUCKS. That is what we're actually scared of as a consumer. I hate seeing art being considered as a throwaway product.

I even saw a french article that was so complacent with this and kept saying complete bullshit things like "oh if they remove that game from the service, just take it as an opportunity to play another one" just, fuck off. That's not how I see this kind of service.

I love Nintendo Switch Online, despite a lot of its flaws, and hate on Virtual Console's overall legacy personally. I'm all for ways to allow discoverability and pick the curiosity of people. That's the kind of shit that I love in having some ease of access to catalogs, despite not owning them.

Wasn't it the dream to just access to everything with less money though? Don't tell me otherwise because I wouldn't believe you. I do think there's something nice in this kind of service, but we also need to figure how to keep companies from the inevitable enshittification that will ensue on the constant need for growth beyond any reasonable sense.

#gaming #streaming #opinion #ownership

[heartfulselkie]

*drops an armful of things on my way in*🧃🧸📚🥐🏜️🦋🦴🐚 oops

I uh...I think you dropped something 😂

🧃 ⇢ share some personal lore you never posted about before

I have one tattoo but would like to get more! The one I have already is of the Outsider's Mark from the game Dishonored and its on the back of my shoulder. I would have gotten it on the back of ym hand like in the game, but I knew that would wear out pretty fast (and I also wasn't wanting something too painful for my first tattoo). I would like to get other ones, but because of reasons it might never happen.

🧸 ⇢ what's the fastest way to become your mutual?

I guess it depends what kind of mutual? If you mean the kind of mutual that I would politely nod at if we passed by in the street, then that really just happens by chance. I see a blog I like and follow them. Maybe they follow me back or were already following me 🤷‍♂️ If you mean the kind of mutual I cook blorbos with and bark at each other at all hours over blorbo thoughts then that isn't something that would happen through Tumblr alone I don't think. The mutuals I play pass the brain cell with are people I've had relatively frequent conversations with on discord so we know we just kind of click. I'm very bad at conversation (especially with new people) though so it can take a while for me to settle into frequent talking with someone 😅

📚 ⇢ what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app? 

A grocery list. Not very exciting 😂

🥐 ⇢ name one internet reference that will always make you laugh 

I have forgotten any and all internet references in existence upon being asked this.

🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

Any comment... 👉👈 As long as its not negative I'm happy to receive any comment. I'm a glutton for validation.

🦋 ⇢ share something that has been on your heart and mind lately 

I wish I'd been surrounded by better people when I was younger. I've dealt with a lot of failure from the various adults in my life, and now that I'm an adult myself I'm having to fix all that and pick up the slack. I like to think there's another version of me in some alternate timeline that got to pursue the things they love and know themself much sooner than where I'm at now. Maybe they'd be completely different. Or maybe they'd be the same. It's just something I think about. (I really tried to think of a less depressing answer to this one but I am really just a melancholic sort of person through and through 😂)

🦴 ⇢ is there a piece of media that inspires your writing? 

Just...just one?? I can find inspiration from almost anything if its something that resonates with me. Music, video games, movies, books... But I suppose something I always come back to is fairy tales (and also fae creatures themselves). It's just something I grew up with and I have spent a lot of time being obssessed with the mythology and lore of them.

🐚 ⇢ do you like or dislike surprises?

It's a very situational kind of thing. Generally I hate surprises that mean a change of plans or things being sprung on me out of nowhere. But small things like someone saying "I got you X thing because it reminded me of you/because I know you like it" is always nice. Like I cried on my last birthday because my dad sent me flowers and I wasn't expecting anything 😂

[Truth or Dare Ask Game]

#noctie #🌃 #ask selkie #ask game

[probablygoat]

Some Random 3:47 AM Thoughts

I've been playing and replaying Getting Over It With Bennett Foddy a ton recently. It's fun, genuinely. I enjoy its physics, its movement, the authentic feeling of improvement, and above all, I enjoy its philosophy and the things it has to say about the media we consume.

For a long time, I've gently prodded at my own means of media-related consumption. I love to branch out and have new experiences, but something that always gets in the way of me doing that (and probably always will) is the inevitable retread of an already-lived experience. Replaying favorite games, rewatching favorite movies and TV shows, listening to favorite albums and artists ad-nauseum until it's reached levels of proverbial insanity.

There's a personal sense of comfort that comes with the engagement of familiar settings and ideas, but I think there's more to it than that.

There's a quote from Getting Over It that I think about a lot since I first heard it: "For years now, people have been predicting that games would soon be made out of prefabricated objects, bought in a store and assembled into a world. And for the most part that hasn't happened, because the objects in the store are trash. I don't mean that they look bad or that they're badly made, although a lot of them are -- I mean that they're trash in the way that food becomes trash as soon as you put it in a sink. Things are made to be consumed and used in a certain context, and once the moment is gone, they transform into garbage."

Initially, this postulation read to me as something highly negative—pessimistic even. But the more I spin this idea in my mind, the more sense it makes, and the more I can relate it to my personal habits.

I massively enjoy replaying video games. But not all video games; certain ones that appeal to those fundamental aspects of myself that scream for and want and desire unforgettable experiences. Those experiences, for me, come in all forms: challenge, narrative, mechanics, depth, character, mood, ideas, atmosphere, variety, or a combination of these things or more.

"When games were new, they wanted a lot from you. Daunting you, taunting you, resetting and delaying you. Players played stoically. Now everyone's turned off by that. They want to burn through it quickly, a quick fix for the fickle, some tricks for the clicks of the feckless."

I've come to really appreciate video games that are built with this sort of replayability in mind. Games that dare you to improve after each playthrough, games that encourage you to keep coming back for an increasingly rewarding experience. Said experience can even change drastically, depending on the game. It can change for better or for worse, but through that encouragement they've made an active effort to avoid becoming trash.

I don't actually like using the word "trash" to describe media, but for the sake of categorizing my thoughts, I will. It doesn't mean that they look bad or that they're badly made, it means that they're trash in the same way food becomes trash as soon as you put it in the sink. If an experience you've had is amazing—and I mean honestly, truly amazing—then why only experience it once? I would even argue that the lack of a recurrent experience, in a lot of cases, narrowly misses the full and complete picture of what a lot of things have to offer.

If that call to action is ignored, it becomes trash. Disposable and light—like a wad of paper being thrown across the room. A thing that you did, and will likely not do again.

Of course, like any philosophy, I don't genuinely believe this can hold 100% true in every case. It's different for everyone. But I do think it opens up an interesting discussion. How much do you truly value each new experience you consume? Do you have the drive and the time to appreciate its every crevice, pore, wrinkle, crack, high, and low? It can be video games, music, TV shows, movies, anything. Chances are it comes down to either personal preference or circumstance, and that's definitely okay. Some don't have time, some don't have the patience, some just want to get their money's worth, others simply don't care one way or another. And that's perfectly fine, because this sort of cultural waste is inherently recyclable.

What I mean by this is: something may become trash to someone out there. It may even become trash to an incredibly large amount of people. But human beings, as a collective, love to preserve. We don't exactly have a 100% success rate with all of our preservation efforts, but the effort is always there nonetheless. A video game that very few play or talk about anymore could come coupled with pages of important resources for those who wish to experience it retroactively. To that person, in that exact moment, they likely don't see trash. They see a new experience. And under the right circumstances, this new experience could blossom into something special. It could lead to inspiration—new ideas being created and subsequently introduced into the world.

An experience like this can stem from just about anything. So, if you can, take the time to replay, re-listen, rewatch, whatever it is you do. You might be surprised how different a second experience can be from the first.

:)

#goat thought

[fangirlwriting-stories]

Protector

Chapter One

Author’s Note: Hey, put this together very intentionally because it's far more likely I might not have an update for the next couple weeks in a row.  Three weeks at the worst, but I'm not sure how I'll be doing, I've got finals and then some traveling coming.  So enjoy this while you can, I can't promise when exactly I'll update next!

Also, note though, this isn't a hiatus, this is a "I edit these chapters on Saturdays and post them on Sundays, and my next couple Saturdays will be very busy."  Worst case scenario, you'll get a new chapter before the end of May.  Thank you all for your patience with my wildly shifting schedule.

Chapter Thirty-One:

Janus was being insufferable again.  Virgil doubted he’d ever have enough time to truly sort through his feelings in regards to him, but Janus definitely wasn’t helping by watching him and Remus like a hawk every time they were in a video, or talking to Thomas, or doing anything where he was present.  It made it difficult to share his concerns with Thomas when Janus was glaring at him every other sentence.

He did his best to avoid him if he could, but that wasn’t always possible, meaning sometimes he walked into a room and Janus was there, or Janus walked into a room where he already was, and there wasn’t much either of them could do about it.

Virgil kind of wished there was this morning, though.

Yesterday had been bad for him and Remus both, and when Virgil had woken up in the middle of the night and Remus hadn’t, they’d assumed he’d sent a nightmare to Roman again, meaning last night probably hadn’t been fun for him either.

Remus, though he didn’t say it, was clearly upset and frustrated that he didn’t know how to stop sending Roman nightmares.  He vanished into The Imagination instead of talking about it, which in turn bothered Virgil, because what had happened to doing this together?

Then he’d made his way down to the kitchen, shoved some food in his mouth, and sat on the couch in his living room to listen to music and ignore the rest of the world.

And that, naturally, was when Janus showed up.

The glaring started pretty quickly, and Virgil realized not long after that he was not in the place to deal with it today.  So, he turned up his music as much as he dared and tried to block Janus out.

But that plan was kind of ruined when Janus walked over to him and stood above him, clearly ready to wait until Virgil acknowledged him.

Virgil pulled his headphones down around his neck and looked up at Janus in exhaustion.  “Can we not today, Janus?  Please?”

“Thomas is doing worse, we need to talk about it,” Janus said.

“Well maybe I feel like shit too,” Virgil said, moving to pull his headphones back up.

“Hey,” Janus snapped, grabbing them and dragging them down again.  “I want you to stop taking it out on him.”

“Oh sure, I’ll just do that,” Virgil said, rolling his eyes.  “Except, oh wait, the last time I stopped affecting Thomas you all weren’t the biggest fans of that.”

“There is a middle ground between ducking out and making Thomas a giant mess, Virgil.”

Not when things were this bad.

Virgil sighed, trying to make it sound irritated, but not really succeeding.  He looked up at Janus for a second.  There were dark circles under his eyes that were almost successfully covered with makeup, and his shoulders were slumped almost imperceptibly.

Virgil sighed, and leaned back against the couch with a thud.  “I’ll see what I can do,” he muttered.

“See that you do,” Janus said coolly, and he stalked off towards the kitchen.

Virgil sighed and rubbed at his eyes.  He took a deep breath, and pulled the anxiety swirling around his chest into a tight ball.  Then he buried his head in his knees and took a couple deep breaths.

Keeping his anxiety inside like this might make Thomas’ day better, but it sure wasn’t going to do the same for Virgil.  He couldn’t blame Janus for wanting a break, though.

Before long, the other sides began to make appearances, and Virgil sank back out to Remus’ room to get away from them and see if Remus was back from The Imagination yet.

He wasn’t really surprised that he wasn’t.  At least when Virgil checked, the way wasn’t blocked.

When he appeared with Remus it didn’t exactly make him feel better, though.

“Hey, Re,” Virgil said, shoving the tight ball of anxiety in his chest further down and walking past the large torture scene Remus had conjured up.  “You doing okay there?”

“I’m having some feelings, and I don’t like them,” Remus said from where he was watching with his head firmly pressed against his knees.  “So I’m going to watch Malice beat them out of me.”

Virgil winced.  “Okay.  Do you maybe want to talk about it instead?”

“No.”

Virgil gave him a worried look but didn’t say anything, and sat down after turning away from the torture scene.  He made sure he could still see Remus, and leaned his head against his shoulder to show what support he could.

“D’you need to talk?” Remus asked.

“I’m just anxious,” Virgil said.  “Trying to give everyone an easy day.”

Remus turned to give him a worried look of his own.  “Don’t hurt yourself.”

Virgil nodded.  “I know.”

Remus turned and looked back out at imaginary Malice again.  “I don’t understand my feelings, Vee.  Can’t they ever make sense?”

“I don’t think feelings work that way,” Virgil said.

“Why did none of them ever check on us?” Remus asked, burying his head in his knees.  “Didn’t they care at all?”

Virgil didn’t know what to say to that, so instead he wrapped his arms around Remus from the front and pulled him gently to his side.

“I mean what did we do?” Remus asked, wrapping his own arm around Virgil.  “Do they actually just hate us that much?”

“They didn’t know what was going on, Re,” Virgil murmured.

“Because they never bothered to look.”

“Well… yeah.”

“I hate them.”

Virgil glanced over.  “Re…”

“No, I do.  I don’t know why you don’t.”

“Because they…” Virgil started, and trailed off as he realized he didn’t know how to explain either.

“Aren’t you angry?”

Virgil nodded.  “Yeah,” he said.  “But I can be angry and also not hate them.”

Remus scoffed and glared away.

“I think,” Virgil said slowly.  “That Logan and Roman have started to put something together.”

Remus went still.

“And as soon as they did they offered to talk about it.  Well, in their own ways.”

“You trying to say Logan made a stupid hypothetical statement and Roman acted like a jerk again?”

Virgil laughed a little despite himself.  “That’s part of the package, Re.  It’s who they are.  They were both trying to help.  Besides,” Virgil swallowed as he thought of Patton.  “I can’t blame them for being a little mad when I hurt all of them on purpose.”

“You only did that because Janus was being a terrible person again,” Remus snapped.

Virgil winced.  “Remus, he—”

“You’re saying I’m wrong?”

Virgil was quiet for another minute.  “Janus is really bad at caring sometimes,” he said quietly.  “But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t.”

“And that’s my problem?”

Virgil glanced over.  “Of course not.”

“I’m supposed to forgive him because of his intentions?”

“Re,” Virgil said, his eyes widening.  “Of course not.  I’m not asking you to forgive him.”

“It’s just not okay to hate him?  Or any of them?”

Virgil paused and absorbed that for a second.  Eventually, he shook his head.  “No, you can hate them Remus,” he said quietly.  “As long as you’re okay with the fact that I don’t.”

“Even Janus?”

Virgil pressed a hand to his chest.  “Janus is scared.”

Remus was quiet for a long moment.  Finally, he sighed.

“Okay,” he said.  “I respect your decision.”

“I respect yours too,” Virgil said, leaning against Remus’ side.  “I love you, Re.”

Remus leaned back.  “I love you too.”

Remus waved his hand and sent the images of him and Malice away, and Virgil turned around.

…

The anxiety in Virgil’s chest didn’t go away the next day either.  Instead, keeping it all tucked inside like that seemed to have increased it, which tended to be how it worked.

But it had been a long week and everyone was tired, so Virgil resigned himself to a day of sitting in his room and trying to breathe.

Remus didn’t seem to like that, and spent most of the morning trying to glare him into submission.  When he finally accepted it wasn’t working, he huffed loudly in annoyance and decided to camp out in Virgil’s room to help.  As a result, they both spent most of the day there doing grounding exercises and watching TV shows as an attempted distraction.

Virgil hoped the bad nightmare he got that night meant the anxiety was out of his system, especially when he woke up feeling better the next day.  He kind of doubted it though.  It would be back, and no doubt worse than before.  And he didn’t want to try and shove it inside again.  That could cause problems.

Virgil groaned as he sat up, and Remus shifted quickly awake next to him.

“Morning,” Virgil grumbled, rubbing his hands over his face.

“Good morning.  I’m making you breakfast,” Remus said.

“What?  Why?”

“Because you’re going to take it easy so your inevitable crash isn’t as bad.  I’ll make you scrambled eggs, and I’m not going to add anything weird to them.  Just come sit down at the table and relax whenever you’re ready.”

“You don’t have to do that, Re.”

“I don’t have to do shit, and you can’t make me.  I’m doing it anyway.”

Virgil laughed a little.  “Okay.”

“Good.  See you in a bit.”

Remus sank out, and Virgil laid back in bed for a minute to allow himself to wake up more slowly.

After a half hour or so of scrolling through tumblr, he finally pushed himself into a sitting position and climbed out of bed to get dressed.

Because he was taking it easy, though, he didn’t sink out to the kitchen, and instead headed out of his room, stretching as he did.  He made his way towards the stairs and smiled a little to himself as he heard Remus’ loud singing from the kitchen as he got closer.

Once he got to the bottom of the steps and before he made it to the kitchen, though, he spotted Janus and Roman talking quietly in the living room.

“I’ll just have to go fix it myself,” Janus grumbled.  “Like always.”

“Hey,” Roman said, but stopped a second later as he noticed Virgil.

Janus glanced up a second later, and then his gaze turned so furious it actually took Virgil aback for a second.

He gave Janus a look, trying to convey ‘what the fuck is your problem?’ without opening his mouth, and headed into the kitchen, where Remus had finished Virgil’s eggs and was now making his own, adding edible glitter and cream cheese frosting.

“Here you go,” Remus said, turning to take a break and handing Virgil his eggs.  “They’ve been kept magically warm.  You’re welcome.”

Virgil smiled as he took them.  “Thanks, Re.”

Remus smiled back at him and went back to slathering cream cheese icing into a frying pan.

Virgil sat down at the table and let out a relaxed sigh.  He’d admit, this was actually an alright way to start the morning.

Eventually, Roman showed up in the kitchen, and Virgil braced himself for snapping and attempts to kick them out, but surprisingly Roman just moved quietly over to the freezer and pulled out some frozen waffles.

Virgil gave him a confused look, but turned back to his eggs after a second.  He wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

It wasn’t long after that when Remus dropped his plate of eggs on the table and splatted the cream cheese icing on the table around it.  Virgil just managed to cover his eggs in time, but glared at Remus anyway.  “I hate you.”

Remus gave a loud overdramatic gasp and pressed his hand to his chest.  “Virgil!  How dare you!  I am wounded!”

“I believe the rule was that you could add all the cream cheese frosting on your eggs that you want as long as it stays off of mine.”

“That was a rule?” Remus said, wobbling his lip and giving Virgil puppy dog eyes.

“I’m immune to those,” Virgil said, taking another bite.

“You heartless monster.”

“Why thank you,” Virgil said with a grin.

Remus stuck out his tongue before turning back to his eggs.  “It’s cheese,” he said.  “People like cheese on eggs.”

“Cream cheese frosting is absolutely not the same thing,” Virgil said, making note of Roman walking to the couch with his food out of the corner of his eye.  “And I can’t know for sure that’s all that is.  You’re still a menace.”

“Why thank you,” Remus said with his own grin.

Virgil finished his breakfast before Remus, but not that long before since Remus liked to inhale his food.  Virgil had just put his own dishes away when Remus started on his, so Virgil leaned next to him on the counter to wait for him.

“Hey,” he said, keeping his voice down so Roman couldn’t hear from the living room.  “Do you want to try some brainstorming today?”

Remus sighed, but seemed to give it a moment of thought.

He turned to Virgil after a second.  “No.  I wanna make something for me.”

Virgil smiled warmly at him.  “I think that’s a good idea, Re.”

“Yeah.  And then I wanna make something for you.”

Virgil blinked.  “Me?”

“Yeah.”

He didn’t elaborate, as apparently he’d decided that didn’t need explanation.

Eventually, Virgil just nodded.  “Okay,” he murmured.  “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet, you haven’t seen it,” Remus said with a grin.

“Oh Thomas, what are you going to do?”

“That would ruin the surprise!”

“I’m going to regret this.”

“Most definitely,” Remus agreed.

Virgil was about to say something else when, very suddenly, Thomas’ anxiety spiked.

“The hell?” Virgil said, looking around.  “I didn’t do anything.”

“What?” Remus asked.

“I don’t know, Thomas’ anxiety just… I’m gonna go check on him,” Virgil said.

“Not alone you’re not,” Roman snapped suddenly, causing Virgil to jump and glance over.

Virgil groaned.  “God, fine, just come on,” he said.

“Want me to come?” Remus asked.

“No, I don’t want you to accidentally make it worse,” Virgil said, before wincing.  “Sorry.”

“None taken.  I can do that.  Meet me back in my room so we can head to The Imagination?”

“Okay.”

Virgil sank out, and Roman followed him.  A second later Virgil appeared and Roman rose up.

“Thomas?” Virgil asked, and Thomas glanced up as he stepped forward towards the couch.  “Are you okay?”

Thomas blinked at him for a second.  “Wouldn’t you know?”

The anxiety in the air suddenly spiked again, and Virgil gasped in surprise, pressing a hand to his chest.

“Well, I’m not doing that,” he said, rubbing it.

“What do you mean you’re not doing it?  Aren’t you my Anxiety?”

“Yeah, we’ve actually had that figured that out,” Virgil muttered, looking around.  “But no, that’s not me.  Can you sense everyone else?  Are they okay?”

“Uh,” Thomas said, looking up as he thought.  “Well, you and Roman are right here, and I’m not really getting anything from Remus right now, other than… cream cheese frosting on scrambled eggs?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.  Go on?”

“I think Patton’s okay, and Logan’s not setting off any alarms… hang on, I’ll just—”

He pulled his hand up, and Logan and Patton both rose up in their original spots.  They both looked a little surprised, but otherwise normal.

“Okay,” Virgil said, looking back at Thomas.  “Where’s Janus?”

But Thomas was looking towards the steps in confusion.  “I summoned Janus,” he said.  He did the same motion again, and again nothing happened.

Then the next second, the anxiety spiked again, and this time everyone seemed to feel it.

Virgil turned to look at Roman.  “Well Princey, you were with Janus last, where is he?”

“What— he had to go clean up the mess you and Remus made with the barrier,” Roman said, looking unsure.

Virgil’s heart dropped into his stomach.  “Something’s wrong with the barrier?”

There was another anxiety spike.

“Are you telling me,” Virgil said, walking forward and grabbing Roman by the shoulders.  “That Janus went into the subconscious, alone, when Remus and I weren’t there?”

“He—” Roman said weakly.  “He can go where he wants Anxiety, you’re not in charge of him—”

“Shut up!” Virgil screamed, and sank out to the commons.  He looked over at Janus’ door, and found it flickering in and out of existence.  The barrier on the door to the other commons was flickering in the same way.

“REMUS!” he screamed, and Remus opened his door in less than a second, sprinting out to meet him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Janus went to the subconscious,” Virgil said, starting over for the door to the other commons.

“Janus did what?”

“That’s why Thomas is freaking out, because something’s wrong,” Virgil said, summoning his scythe.  “I have to go after him.”

“What?” Remus exclaimed.  “No, you don’t, Virgil.”

“Re,” Virgil said, looking towards Janus’ flickering door in the distance.  “They’re going to hurt him.”

“So fucking what?  Let him learn what it feels like!”

“Remus,” Virgil said, squeezing his eyes shut.  “I can’t.”

He didn’t know how to explain the swirl of emotions between his panic about the others, his worry about Thomas, and somehow, most prominently, the heart-pounding nerves that came with the idea that Janus was going to be hurt.

But he also really didn’t have time to try and explain, so instead he looked at Remus and hoped his eyes could convey all of the emotions his words couldn’t.

Something seemed to get across, because Remus bit his lip.  “I don’t want you to go,” he whispered.  “But I can’t stop you, can I?”

“No,” Virgil said.  He took a breath, knowing the reaction he was about to get with this next part.  “And you have to stay here, Remus.”

Remus stared at him.  “What?  Fuck no.  Are you insane?”

“Remus they have Janus,” Virgil said.  “If they kill him, the barrier goes down.  And the core sides are going to need someone here who knows what’s about to happen.”

“I don’t care what happens to them!”

Virgil bit his lip.  “Well, I do.”

Remus scowled.  “Who said you could play dirty?”

“That’s not playing dirty.  You want me to play dirty?  If they have to go through what we’ve gone through, all of the ways we’ve negatively affected Thomas get a million times worse.  You want to hurt Thomas?”

Remus gave him a death glare, and Virgil gave him a firm serious look back.

Finally, Remus growled and clenched his fists.  “If you’re not back in an hour I’m coming after you.”

“Fine.”

Virgil picked up his scythe and started for the doorway to the other commons, with the flickering barrier from Janus still in place, at least for now.

And if Virgil had anything to say about it, it would stay that way.

...

Chapter Thirty-Two

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #platonic dukexiety #platonic anxceit #my fic

[hekateinhell]

For Dungeon Anon. ♥️ Inspired by some of the stuff that's been going in my ask box lately lmao.

Teenage delinquents Lestat and Armand are dating Louis together while navigating their own situationship, when Louis leaves them to their own devices for two weeks and certain permanent decisions are made.

Modern Human AU, Lestat/Armand/Louis (Louis is there in spirit and also to dom through FaceTime), 5k, rated E (oral sex, video stuff, Lestat's praise kink makes an appearance). X-posted to the ao3 because this is lot for me (RIP).

9:02 PM: I'm bored. Everyone else's gone, come hang out if you want?

9:12 PM: K.

K?

What did "K" even mean? "K, you're bored"? "K, I'm coming over"? "K, I got the text"?

Lestat rolled over, phone on his stomach, annoyed and out of sorts. Leave it to Armand to say everything and nothing at once.

Were his bedroom lights always this bright?

It was never easy when Louis wasn't around. Lestat knew who he was with Louis; he more or less knew what Louis was with Armand, and he knew what he and Armand were with Louis around. But like this, on their own for the first time when Mrs. de Pointe du Lac had inexplicably decided her kids could stand to miss two weeks of school to visit her family in New Orleans. Sick Grand-mère perhaps, Lestat couldn't remember.

–

"Try and spend some time together. Please. Get to know each other without me," Louis had whispered to them both as he pulled away from Lestat's embrace to kiss Armand outside his apartment building while his sister slammed the Taxi trunk shut. "Please? For me?" he squeezed one of their hands in each of his, smiling the demure smile that he knew made them both weak in the knees and tight in the pants.

"Of course, anything for you, my love," Armand, damn him, beat Lestat to the punch.

Disgustingly, cloyingly sweet.

"Yes, yes, of course," Lestat acquiesced, stealing a last kiss for himself as Armand rolled his eyes and not-so-subtly kicked at his ankle with a combat boot. The little gremlin.

Lestat was of the opinion he spent plenty of time with Armand – too much, in fact! Armand on the other side of Louis during class, at lunch, on the steps of their school! Even every Sunday in Louis's bedroom, a 'shared day' when time didn't lend itself to being split neatly down the middle.

An experiment, was what Lestat had told himself as a consolation.

A few months of this before it all came to a head. Armand had cornered him alone in the music room, veritably hissing about how Lestat was purposely trying to shove him aside and drive a wedge between him and Louis and that he, Armand, wasn't going to allow it. Almost comical it had been, what with Armand's head barely reaching Lestat's chest on a good day, and he'd still managed to back him into a wall like a rabid little raccoon.

At first, it had been funny, but then it was simply ventured on annoying. Lestat had had Louis first, after all! Yes, fine, they had technically been "on a break" when Louis met Armand. And yes, there was that little aggravating detail of Louis insisting that he would only give Lestat a second chance if he were still permitted to date Armand. Lestat had given his trademark jovial, "Oh, course, mon chèri!" So confident was he that Armand would be yesterday's news by the end of the week.

But that hadn't happened, and now he had 5'6, 125 lbs of cranky Eastern European theater kid on his ass.

He couldn't hit him, it wouldn't be a fair fight, and the brat would probably spin it to Louis to make himself look like the victim. Never one to back down, Lestat had done the second next-best thing. He'd grabbed Armand's jaw tight in his hand, stunning him into silence, and bent down to kiss him as violently and punishingly as he could - the way he never dared to nor desired to do to Louis. Not a single loving touch in it.

"There, finally shut you the fuck up," Lestat murmured as he caught his breath, delighting in how bruised and busted Armand's already plump lips looked now.

See him complain to Louis about this.

Armand blinked those dark eyes at him, processing the words he'd spoken but making no move to pull away. Something akin to hurt flickered across his face, at the same time he shifted from one leg to the other, and Lestat smiled when he realized exactly why.

The second kiss was a lot gentler, sweeter, wetter, almost as though Lestat were trying to repair the damage he'd done with the same instrument that had done it – his lips.

Armand's hand came up to tangle in Lestat's hair, grinding himself against his thigh as he moaned while his other came to rest over his crotch, squeezing Lestat's raging hard-on through his jeans. Kissing Armand was so different to kissing Louis... Each person always so unique. Armand's mouth was smaller yet more commanding, aggressive yet simultaneously yielding, the cool silver stud in his tongue bumping against Lestat's top teeth with every delicious back-and-forth push and pull.

Didn't realize what was happening until Armand suddenly shuddered and broke away to slump forward, pressing his head to Lestat's bicep as he finished trembling through his orgasm.

A bit of an awkward moment until Lestat's cock decided to remind them both of its rather prominent presence and twitch against Armand's hand.

"I didn't..." Lestat panted, "I haven't..."

Swore he felt Armand smile against his skin. "Give me a second," he squeezed again for emphasis, "I'll take care of it."

And so he had, rather spectacularly – no gag reflex that one – while smugly maintaining eye contact the entire time. He knew how good he was. Louis knew how good he was. And now Lestat did too.

–

Fuck.

The doorbell ringing snapped Lestat out of his reminiscences. "Shit," he mumbled, quickly adjusting himself to right the situation going on in his leather pants just now, thanks to the memory from two months ago.

Think unsexy thoughts, think unsexy thoughts... Don't think about what we've done together, with Louis, since then.

"Hi," Armand looked almost shy for a moment, backing up a few steps so he didn't have to tilt his chin up to look into Lestat's face.

Lestat's instinct was to kiss him, depravedly, right there in the doorway where the neighbors and God might see. But they weren't dating, nor were they even established fuck buddies. A handshake would be too formal, a slap on the shoulder too "bro." He wasn't used to seeing Armand without Louis as a buffer; he'd never actually had to greet Armand as his own person before.

Armand made the decision for him, leaning up to press a quick kiss to the short, day-old scruff along Lestat's jawline before dropping back down and stepping into the house as though it weren't his first time there.

"So... What do you want to do?"

There were several things Lestat wanted to do, to him, just then. But most, if not all, of them would defeat the purpose of "getting to know each other" the way they had promised Louis that they would.

"I still have some booze? We could hit that and throw on a movie?"

Armand gave him a funny look, one Lestat couldn't quite decipher. "You invite me to the afterparty but not the party?"

Oh.

"I wouldn't call it a party," Lestat ran his fingers through his hair, tugging on the ends the way he did when he was starting to get uncomfortable. "Just me and the guys from band, you know. I didn't think you'd vibe with them."

The truth was he hadn't thought about Armand at all. Lestat wasn't a fan of his worlds colliding.

"But Louis 'vibes' with them, yes?"

It's a trap; Lestat can feel it as he's walking right into it.

"Occasionally, maybe. He's very easygoing!"

Armand scoffed. "Louis, easygoing? Just how high are you right now?"

"What's the fucking point of this conversation anyway, Armand?" Lestat's patience quickly found its end. "I invite you over, and you're being bitchy because I didn't ask you to hang out with my friends that I know you'd hate?"

"I'm 'bitchy' because you always act like you're ashamed to be seen around me!"

Oh.

"That's not-! I'm not-!" Not sober enough to even be thinking of having this conversation is what Lestat was.

He's about to tell Armand to forget it and go home; he'll sleep this off and text him in the AM.

"Where's the booze? I want to get messed up."

Gabrielle wasn't home, and wouldn't be home until Monday. She didn't care. Who did?

"Down that way, cabinet on the right."

Armand's a lot sweeter when he's drunk, kissing at Lestat's face and collarbone in an overly excitable, almost childlike way as he bounced on the bed.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, staring into Lestat's eyes before bursting into a fit of giggles. "You should fuck me."

Lestat choked on the bottle. "Yeah, I don't think so." The look on Armand's face... "Not that I don't want to," Lestat hurried to correct his mistake, "I’d want you to remember it, you know? I've been told I am quite the experience." Couldn't resist punctuating that statement with a wink.

Armand snorted, his humor making a quick recovery. "Oh, I'm sure."

Lestat took another swig and passed the bottle. "Have you done it yet?"

"'It'? Really, Lestat? Am I a virgin? Have I fucked, banged, screwed, you mean?"

"Jesus. Yes, that's what I meant! I know we fool around, and I imagine you do the same kind of things with Louis when it's just the two of you."

Bitter, bitter thought.

"But are you a virgin?"

"Why do you want to know?" Armand seemed defensive all of a sudden, peering at him in that creepy, unblinking way that Lestat found vaguely threatening.

Something-something unpredictable and unsettling.

"No reason," he shook his head. "Just curious, that's all. And quit looking at me like that! It's very off-putting."

Rather than being insulted, Armand appeared to take it as a compliment. He smiled and leaned back against the headboard, satisfied. "Good, you should be put off."

"You literally just asked me to fuck you!" Lestat's booming laugh sounded more incredulous than anything else.

Armand stared down at his jeans, worrying at the seams of the dark gray denim.

"To answer your question: no, I'm not a virgin, but also, I have never..." He trailed off, his gaze darting around the room before settling on the helm of Lestat's maroon t-shirt as he lay propped up beside him.

Never what?

"Never what, Armand?"

"Forget it." He lifted the bottle to Lestat's mouth, tilting it back and holding it in place for him when he accepted. "Let's do something fun, yeah?"

Lestat nodded as he chugged the equivalent of three shots before pushing the bottle away, ran a hand down Armand's inner thigh, and reached over to kiss and suck at his throat.

Armand liked it, and Lestat liked doing it. "I do you and you do me?" he asked, having had yet to find his groove with Armand when Louis wasn't in bed with them, telling them what to do to each other.

Armand sighed as his hand curved over Lestat's shoulder, clearly finding the prospect attractive. Lestat already had a hand under the mesh top, grazing the soft hairs on Armand's lower abdomen, dipping two fingers below the waistband, ready to yank down his pants and slide into position when-

“Wait,” Armand smacked at his back and Lestat groaned in frustration, burying his face onto the giant paisley pattern on the duvet beside Armand’s hip, keeping his fingers right where they were until further notice.

"You're killing me, Armand. You're really killing me," he grumbled, humping the bed once for good measure – which predictably had the opposite of the intended effect and did nothing to alleviate the problem.

Armand shoved his shoulder this time, hard. “And you’re so melodramatic! Are you this whiny when it’s just you and Louis? Unbelievable.”

Lestat peered up at him through his hair, trying to force his body to cooperate with his brain and vice versa. “He likes it,” he countered back, feeling and sounding not unlike a chastised child. “Now, getting back to business,” he adjusted to nestle his forehead against Armand’s ribcage, “Was that ‘Wait, let’s pause,’ or ‘Wait, let’s stop’?”

A pause.

“It was a ‘Wait, let’s FaceTime Louis and let him watch.’”

Lestat scrambled up as though Armand had said, “The house is on fire.”

“You little minx… That’s fucking brilliant.”

Armand beamed at his approval, a tad too pleased with himself. "Here, call him," he shoved Lestat's own phone in his direction.

“Don’t boss me around,” Lestat quipped, as he did just what Armand had ordered, hitting the video call button and listening to it ring.

“Please. You like it,” Armand countered, ducking as Lestat made to grab his hair in response.

Declined.

“Ouch.”

“Oh, shut up, you little devil! I’m sure he hit the wrong button by mistake. Louis doesn’t decline my calls.”

Declined.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.”

Smack!

“Did you just hit me?”

“No,” Lestat rolled his eyes, preparing to hit FaceTime again, “Technically, the pillow hit you. The force was all mine, though."

11:45 PM: I’m out at dinner with my family right now. Everything okay?? Love you.

“See,” Lestat crowed, “He’s not ignoring me!”

11:45 PM: Everything’s fine, beautiful! Armand’s here… We want to show you something ;)

Two minutes. Two minutes of Armand and Lestat staring at the little screen while the three little dots came and went several times.

“Too much?” Lestat’s insecurities began to flare up.

“No,” Armand snatched the phone out of his hand and opened the camera app. “Not enough… Now kiss me and make it dirty.”

Lestat didn’t have to be told twice. It was filthy, obscene, borderline pornographic-

“And… send!”

11:48 PM: look how much we miss you call us xx A

"He's not answering!" Lestat was aware of how juvenile he sounded then, and he couldn't care less.

“Give him a minute! And try to use the brain that I’ve heard you supposedly have… I’m sure he doesn’t want us to meet the rest of his family like this.”

Lestat took a minute to take Armand in – cheeks flushed from alcohol, eyes wild from excitement and arousal, hair mussed from rolling around Lestat’s pillows. He imagined he looked a lot like himself. “You’re right, mon petit,” he replied, unable to resist the endearment that he knew Armand would perceive as a slight to his height.

FaceTime Video.

“As always,” Armand remarked as he hit Accept Call, transforming the haughty, belligerent expression on his face into something downright innocent and wholesome. What an actor. “Hello, lover!”

Lestat leaned over Armand’s chest to ensure he was still in the frame, occupying most of it, in fact. “Bonjour, mon amour!"

Louis on the screen laughed, his green eyes exceptionally bright due to the lighting. “Bonjour to you too, my loves.”

“We miss you,” Armand complained with an exaggerated whine as Lestat interrupted, “But I miss you the most!”

Oh, how beautiful Louis was when he blushed – and it was ridiculously, delightfully easy to make him blush. “It’s not a competition,” he chided, “But I miss you both so much, of course. I can’t wait to be home.”

The rush from the alcohol was fading and Lestat cuddled to Armand’s side, dropping his head to his shoulder to settle his nerves. “I’m glad you picked up,” he whispered. Finally.

“Me too,” Armand nodded. “Where are you, sweetheart? I can’t quite tell.”

"Oh," Louis shrugged. "Hiding in the bathroom. I didn't know what to expect… after that photo." He blushed again and looked away.

Amazing that this was the same person that could have Lestat on one side and Armand on the other every weekend, a cock in each hand as he worked them to completion while murmuring sweet nonsense in a combination of English, French, and Creole.

The memory had Lestat subconsciously bucking his hips against Armand's leg and biting down on his lip to suppress a moan.

“That reminds me,” Armand shifted to sit up as he passed Lestat’s phone back to him. “We wanted to show you something.” Quickly freeing himself from his pants and underwear before snatching the phone right back, patting his inner thigh for Lestat’s benefit. “Go on then,” he told him.” He touched the screen and leaned back at an incline, “Camera’s on you, brat.”

Heard Louis gasp as he watched Lestat kiss his way down Armand’s navel, the tip of his cock grazing Lestat’s chin as he whimpered and squirmed in anticipation. “Don't drag it out,” he begged and when Lestat raised an eyebrow, he added, “We can't keep Louis in the bathroom all night.”

“Yes,” Louis sounded breathless, “Do it, Lestat.”

"Just where do the two of you get off, speaking to me this way?" He teased, drawing out the moment, knowing good and well the vision he presented to his captive audience. Hair escaping from the low ponytail to frame his face, the black eyeliner smudged around his eyes, making them appear massive and more mysterious, lips red and shiny and glistening from spit and precum.

Fluttered his long eyelashes shut and focused on taking Armand down to the hilt in one fluid movement, relaxing his throat and willing it to cooperate. Louis was watching, after all, and Lestat always performed better with a crowd.

“Good, so good, Lestat,” Louis cooed, and Lestat preened at the praise. “Isn't he good, Armand?”

"Uh huh," Armand moaned. "Really good. I'm not gonna hold out, baby. I'm sorry," he apologized to Louis, already linking his ankles over Lestat's back, using his free hand to tug on his hair.

You asked for quick, I'm giving you quick, Lestat wanted to say, but settled for smiling around the cock in his mouth, hyper-aware of both sets of eyes. Hollowed out his cheeks and hummed in the back of his throat, knowing he loved it when Armand did that to him.

"It's okay, love. Let go when you're ready." Fuck, that man's voice could hypnotize a lion.

Armand moaned again and shook his head at nothing in particular – the little obscene noises escaping his mouth and increasing in pitch with every merciless suck Lestat gave. “Oh yes, you will,” Louis soothed, “And Lestat will take it all, won't you, darling?”

He felt Armand’s thighs quivering on either side of his head and knew he wouldn't even need to answer Louis either way. He pulled back to grin at the camera, at Armand looking through it, mouth open and tongue lapping at the slit before closing his lips over the head once more as Armand groaned and went rigid, spine arching off the bed while Lestat's hands on his hips pinned him into place.

Lestat took it all, every drop Armand had to offer. Gave his softening cock one last suck for good measure, which earned him a cry from Armand and a "Good boy" from Louis before collapsing onto his side.

That was new. Interesting. Hot. He wouldn't mind an encore later.

“I'll do you now?” Armand's shaky voice cut through his thoughts.

"I don't think you have to," Lestat grimaced, noticing for the first time the mess he had made in his pants. He'd be so single-mindedly focused on putting on a good show, and hadn't realized he'd gotten himself off by grinding into the mattress.

Embarrassing.

"There," Lestat grabbed his phone back, holding it close so Louis would see just his face, see the proof of his labor. "I swallowed your boyfriend's load just like you told me to. Does that prove how much I love you or what?"

“How did this become about that? I know you love me, silly goose.”

“Not silly,” Lestat pouted while Armand narrowed his eyes at him, still too wrung out to move. “I wanted a chance to prove my love,” he grumbled as Lestat swatted at his hand.

“You're both so drunk! Sleep it off, my loves. I have to… clean up… and get back to the table before they start wondering where I am.”

Damn. "Alright," Lestat allowed, feeling the victor if nothing else. "I love you."

"I love you too," Armand's voice sounded small as he pulled himself up, using Lestat as leverage. "Call me later?"

"You'll be asleep! I hope. I love you both. I'll try to text you later." He blew them a kiss that they each pretended to catch, then the screen blinked and the call was over.

Lestat sighed and gently pushed Armand off in favor of getting up and stripping down, rummaging around the dresser for something clean to wear.

“You know what we should do?” Armand spoke loudly to the ceiling.

"What?" Lestat yelled from the adjoining bathroom, lowering his voice as he reentered, appreciating for a moment the fucked-out tableau Armand made.

At least Louis chose well based on aesthetics.

"What should we do?"

"Let's go into the city, it's Friday, and we have nothing better to do."

Not the worst idea Armand's ever had - the antics on the late-night trains in and out of Manhattan were worth the fare alone.

Midnight on Friday meant that most people were either on their way to the graveyard shift or just out and about and looking for a good time like Armand and Lestat. They ambled out of the bus at Port Authority and made their way to the subway at Broadway & W 41st. Lestat tried and failed to drunkenly serenade Armand around the Grand Central stop before bumping into a steel pole, much to the amusement of their fellow passengers.

“We,” Armand twirled around a pole and then dropped himself into Lestat’s lap, “Should get tattoos.”

Quelle surprise from the little imp. “Tattoos? Now? At midnight?”

“Yes.” Armand pursed his lips momentarily. “Tattoos to prove our love to Louis, as you so eloquently put it.”

“What, you’re feeling put out you didn't get to enthrall him tonight and you want to overcompensate?”

Mean, but Armand could handle it.

“I enthralled him plenty!” Armand snapped, arms crossed over his chest. “I just think it would be fun, you know?” tone softening, head to the side in a feigned gesture of submission. “C’mon, Lestat. It would make a great story." He sneered then, and the illusion dissipated, "Unless you're too chicken to do it."

"Chicken?! Who do you think you're talking to?" Lestat's left hand on his lower back kept him from losing his balance at a hard turn.

Intriguing, seeing as Lestat looked like he wanted to shove Armand onto the disgusting subway car floor himself. He settled for yanking him up to his feet by his wrist as though he were handling a toddler, heralding him to the nearest exit.

“If it’s a tattoo you want, we’re getting off here then,” Lestat announced, his voice dripping with irritation and perhaps a tad bit of excitement.

Armand gave him an icy look but made no move to separate his wrist from Lestat’s grasp, following him out of the subway and up the steps to Union Square. The January air cold and unforgiving, and he shivered in Lestat's leather jacket.

Hadn't been paying attention when they left the house – Lestat hadn't mentioned it, but Armand was sure he'd noticed and hoped he wasn't reading into it. Yet Armand was thankful for it now as it hit him at precisely mid-thigh and was infinitely warmer than his own unlined one would have been.

"It's a ten-minute walk to the place where I got mine done. They don't ask for ID if you pay upfront. Cool dude," Lestat seemed to be warming up the idea as they walked hurriedly.

“You have a tattoo? Where?” Armand demanded to know, evidently shocked, as he thought he had already seen every square inch of Lestat’s naked body.

“Guess.”

“I don’t know! Just tell me, for once!”

“You’re such a baby, Armand, I swear,” but there was no malice in it, and Lestat indulged him by pausing long enough to pull down his lower lip, revealing the BRAT tattooed on the inside. “Hurt like a fucking bitch too!”

Armand couldn't help it – he clapped his hands and laughed out loud. "Of course you would!"

“What did Louis think?”

"Told me I was a 'damned fool,' and I was lucky it was where nobody would see it or he would've dumped me for good right then and there."

“Hmm, such a shame it wasn’t on your forehead then.”

“Imp.”

“Idiot.”

Pretty Devil’s Ink was everything one might expect from a tattoo parlor that operated well past midnight and accepted minors as clients. Still, Armand felt a thrill of adrenaline as Lestat held the door open for him, waving him in dramatically.

“Hey, hey! The brat is back!” a big guy boomed in a decidedly Italian-American accent. “And he brought a little friend!”

Armand was about to open his mouth and challenge that statement when Lestat stepped around him to embrace the guy, clapping him on the back. “Hey, Nico! What’s up? Yeah, Armand here was ragging on my ass about wanting a tattoo, so here we are! He has the same problem I did, but you’ll hook him up, right?”

A dashing smile, a wink, an extra $20 on top of the cash Armand procured from his tattered old wallet, and they were going through Nico’s catalog.

More to the point, Armand was going through it while Lestat almost literally bounced from one end of the shop to the other and back – taking a swig from the half-full whiskey bottle he'd stashed under his coat earlier and touching stuff he probably had no business touching.

"So, what do you have in mind?" Nico asked. "And is it one of youse or the two of youse, because you only paid for one."

“I’m not sure yet… But it’s both, right, Lestat? We’re doing it together, right? For Louis?”

Perhaps it was the booze, perhaps it was how all of Armand’s confidence seemed to abruptly disappear at different points throughout the night, perhaps it was because Lestat never could say no to a grand gesture even when he very well should, but Lestat heard himself say, “Yes,” before he realized he’d done it.

Took a seat on the table next to Armand and picked at the black polish on his nails while Armand flipped to another page. “We should call Louis again,” he smirked, phone already out of his pocket. “Get his input.”

Declined.

“Oh, this is rich!”

“Maybe he’s still with his family, Lestat. And wouldn’t it be better as a surprise? As long as we don’t get on our faces… or somewhere equally ridiculous.”

“Whatever. Let’s leave him a voicemail.”

Declined.

“You’re breaking our hearts, mon chéri! …Armand, say something…."

“… going to prove our love to you!”

“… that’s right… prove our love to you!”

“… and then you’ll never leave us again!”

"… that's right! I must say, Armand, you have a dazzling way with words…."

"… both of youse are really drunk…  I don't know if I should be doing this…."

“… we’ll pay you double!”

“… yes, we’ll pay you double!”

“… Lestat, pay the man…."

–

Much more painless this time, given how much more cushioning that particular region of the body contained. Armand still had winced and reached for Lestat’s hand more than once – it was a different kind of pain compared to the ones he enjoyed, and he didn’t do well with the unfamiliar.

Lestat hadn't said much, having now reached the "quiet drunk" stage, but he lingered by Armand's head, allowed him pick of the music ('70s glam rock), and let him play with the tangle of bracelets on Lestat's wrists to distract himself.

Afterward, when Nico had proclaimed the job almost done ("just have to do the bandage"), Lestat took a selfie for Louis. His temple pressed to Armand's left butt cheek, next to the red half-heart – the kind that joins with another to form a whole on a friendship necklace – that had Louis written on it in cursive.

“And… send!”

“Same thing?” Nico asked when Armand stepped off the table and gingerly pulled up his pants. “Opposite heart piece, opposite side? And what goes in it again?”

“That is such a dumb idea, Lestat!”

"No, it's not! It makes perfect sense. Winner gets Louis's first name, loser gets last name! You just don't think you can win!"

“The odds are 50/50!”

“Exactly! So, heads or tails?”

“Fine… Heads.”

“Fuck!”

“I win!”

“Like hell you do, Armand… Last name is the married name anyway. It’s better.”

“That’s the booze rotting your brain, Lestat. Soon there’ll be nothing left.”

“Shut up.”

Armand appeared equal parts entertained and apologetic as Lestat struggled to answer. “It’s a long name, another ridiculous French name.”

"What about just 'DPDL'?" Armand volunteered helpfully. "He'll know what it stands for. So will you, and so will I. Who else is going to see, really?"

The unintended implication that no one besides Louis and Armand would ever see him that intimately again made Lestat's chest ache in a funny way, in a way he didn't want to acknowledge just yet.

“Yeah,” he nodded, climbing onto the table, hiding his face from Armand’s scrutiny. “Yeah, that works.”

–

"I'm going to pass out," Armand complained as they staggered back to the subway station. More so from exhaustion than anything else, the alcohol long gone and having since worn off.

He looked it too, and Lestat caught his elbow as he swayed in place. “You can sleep at my place if you’d like. Nobody’s home till Monday.”

"Thanks," Armand sighed as he linked his arm through Lestat's, both out of a desire to be closer and a need to stay upright. "My 'parents' don't even notice I'm gone. Or they don't care, you know? We're just government checks to them. Yay, foster care."

Lestat didn't know what to say, so he said nothing, but squeezed Armand's hand and hoped the sentiment came across.

“Hey, Lestat.”

They were outside the station now.

“Yeah?”

“I-”

“… You?”

“I-”

An ambulance sped by, the red and blue lights reflecting off Armand’s anguished face.

Oh.

“You don’t have to say it.”

“Why? Because you wouldn’t say it back?”

"No," Lestat brushed Armand's hair back off his face, tucking the thick strands behind his ears, taking a moment to free a rogue curl away from a little earring. "I would. I love you, Armand."

A radiant smile, a sloppy kiss, a sharp nip at his earlobe.

"Prove it then."

#🫣🫣🫣 #prompts #accidental prompt but excellent prompt just the same #this was my sunday 🥹 #lestat/armand/louis #louis does indeed have two hands #hope you like it babe <3

[nicoscheer]

SCULPTURES OF ANYTHING GOES AS OPENER FOR THEIR THIRD GLASTO HEADLINER

1. Sculptures

2. Brianstorm

3. Snap

4. Chair

5. Crying lightning

6. Teddy picker (when I get bent over?!! Alex!!!) https://www.instagram.com/reel/Ct4DUGpgtMn/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA== (it’s rather ‘ya’ but we can pretend)

7. Cornerstone (I knew she’d understand instead of thought/she didn’t say that whooo, I just added that for you you’re welcome)

Interlude something about water by Alex on the piano (get this man his water he’s thirsty)

8. Why’d you only call me when you’re high (having mad instead of bad ideas/ plus epic pose)

Shout out by Alex for Space pictures

9. Arabella

10. Four out of five (loving butt slap for Cookie by Alex/ why don’t you come and stay with ME/ effective very effective what a night what a night, yeah man)

Smiling Alex

Angelic Alex

11. Pretty visitors (now’s me chance x3= rushing off to bowl and it’s a strike= happy little Alex jumping back on stage and then his mic was shut off for a sec there 🤣)

12. Fluorescent Adolescent (some kisses and a thank you from Alex)

Oh god he looks so baby in that picture

13. Perfect sense (another thank you 🥹)

Pouty mouth (he does look tired)

14. Do I wanna know (afterwards “astonishing”/ how are you feeling everybody *cheers* well I’m delighted about that)

15. Mardy Bum (thank you/ alright let’s leave the past behind)

16. There’d better be a mirrorball (conductor Alex at the beginning/ hey HEY at the end)

17. 505 (without Miles 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭his first note sounded so unsure/ the in ears only now getting removed gotta be a new record/ thank you for having us everybody it’s the Arctic monkeys/ so predictable I know what you’re thinking whoo)

18. Body Paint

Encore

19. I wanna be yours (Matt and backup sang and played I wanna be yours (second verse)while Alex sang STAR TREATMENT (first verse)/ thank you thank you very much) (for a second we had “Miles” there)(the Glastonbury special surprise; also genius move to reclaim IWBY from TikTok by hijacking it with TBHC)

A video of that beautiful medley

“Who are you gonna call the Martini police the who?”

20. I bet you look good on the dance floor (Matt having mic problems and some vocal ones aswell(sounded like a scratchy throat))

“We are gonna leave you now we can’t stay with you anymore but fank you for having us something tells me…something tells me that you’re gonna be okay good night”

21. R U MINE?

I mean I know it’s basically literally their normal concert playlist apart from that I wanna be yours/ star treatment medley (which was out of this world 🌚;)) but I still loved it apart from that heartbreak with 505 cause honestly don’t care what they play I’m still loving it and having a blast, great tunes great vocals an amazing night spent in front of the laptop screaming along (what if they had planned a different set list (in 2013 Alex said “that’s what we’re gonna do tonight everyone. we are gonna play some new shit. We’re gonna play some old shit. We are gonna play some things that are just Glastonbury specials, do you know what I’m saying”) but due to Alex falling sick they didn’t have time to practice so they settled for their usual setlist?) (genuinely feel sorry for Elton John and his humongous set cause i doubt that anybody can scream along on Sunday still)

And I love how all the real fans can easily agree that it was a fantastic gig while the TikTok fans and dark fruit lovers are whining in their mum’s basement how they didn’t just play do I wanna know and snap out of it in 10 different versions and how dare Alex that his voice and taste in music evolved and that they didn’t try and emulate the phenomenal, seminal career changing Glasto 2013 🤣🤣

Opening

Do I wanna know

Mardy Bum via BBCradio1

I bet you look good on the dance floor

The BBC intern having some fun ( he’s gonna get tacos on the well reviewed taqueria of course)

WARNING !! do not look at the comments 🤢 you don’t wanna see that shitshow that some ‘fans’ pull but I guess some people just can’t be satisfied cause their own lives are so shit that they have to lash out at whoever is available

Rock band Arctic Monkeys’ headline set on Friday night was watched by an average of 1.5million viewers on BBC One.

https://www.instagram.com/p/Ct3ngjTLG7R/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

https://www.instagram.com/p/CuG4TRQLpjM/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

https://www.instagram.com/p/Ct_-x1NtosH/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

The full audio of Arctic Monkeys’ Glastonbury 2023 set

#Glastonbury 2023 #alex turner #arctic monkeys #I’m no expert but his voice sounds good so grateful he does this #he’s playing around again so I guess he’s really all fine again #why is whoever is responsible for the song titles so much slower than me 🤣 #dang are there many kids in the audience (literally children) #either it’s the livestream I’m staring at or there are actually some technical difficulties with the volumes and feedbacks #and we are far into overtime surprise 🤣 #Jo immediately praising them the setlist and their vocals afterwards is so real go girl #Jo just casually saying they are her babies before the set 😭 #so happy that all the reports and articles so far are glorious and praising the boys to the sky how they should and deserve it #Instagram #I love R U MINE? but at the same time loathe it cause then I now it’s over and that just isn’t okay #also cool to know that måneskin watched the AM and Lana set and that Damiano met Alex (would really like to know how that went) #cause both Victoria and Damiano posted videos of it but we also have an older pic of Ethan with Miles Kane mercy #Alex Turner der hottie (my friends reply to my livestream pic of Alex)

[juneandnick]

5x03 : Border (My POV)

Back at home after seeing Hannah on big screen, June cannot stop thinking about the color her daughter was wearing. While Luke does not seem worried. As I already said: He did a beautiful scrapbooking during all these years, he did not notice colors mean somethings at Gilead. Really? I suspect June to have an idea. Particularly when Moira says: It is not pink, though. She is not a little girl anymore.

I am surprised they did not try to find a replay on the Internet. They could have make some screenshots. I would have liked to see June take a break from the video on Nick in this episode but especially later in the season. Because she really made me feel like she did not give a f***. Do not tell me she tries to be happy with Luke. I absolutely do not buy this s***. She thinks of Nick only when she needs him.

When you are in love, you can try to not think or talk of this person. Whether you want it or not, you do not decide because your heart does not follow any rules. And we have a perfect example later in the same episode: Nick's fantasy.

I wonder how long Moira has known of the existence of a group at the border. Does it mean that she could have sent messages to June when her friend was still at Gilead? In any case, it seems to show that in seven years Luke has not struggled to find ways to find his wife (or to contact her) other than through Mark. And some people dare to say that he could not do anything. This prove the opposite.

Lawrence's guests arrive to his house. We discovers finally Commander Mackenzie (who wears two stars on his jacket). I am intrigued by his line: We would hate to miss a chance to see Rose or a chance to get to meet her new husband. New husband? I wonder what happened to the previous one? And who he was?

I find it really weird the way Serena and Nick look at each other. Is he afraid of her judgment about Rose? Is she surprised to see him at this dinner? It is weird or I missed something. Anyway it is nice to see Nick and Rose interacting together.

At the table, despite his training in masking his emotions, Nick begins to have trouble not letting anything show when June is mentioned, not in a pleasant way.

Back to border, June and Moira keep busy while waiting for Nick's call. We learn a little more about Mayday's help to Gilead's people. When suddenly they hear screams outside. A guardian arrives with Rachel, a young teenager who wears eco's clothes. He cannot stay because he has a wife and a kid : I cannot leave them behind. He could be free but he cannot because he cares about his family.

Under a bandstand, Mark is waiting the end of the evening for drive Serena back to the hotel. I love the fact that Nick comes to meet him because he wants to make sure he will be the first to talk of Rose to June. It is a delicate attention on his part.

About the phone call, I did not change idea. June is relieved to hear Nick's voice. As in S4E09, he exactly knows why she contacts him and as on the bridge S4E03, he tries to reassures her: Hannah is safe. I did not get to talk to her but she is okay.

June asks to Nick to take risks without to think he could be in a shitty situation because of Fred’s death: I know it is a lot to ask, but maybe you could transfer to her district. You can watch out for her. He had just said: I am sorry I cannot do more.

In S4E09, Nick already proved to June he is always there for Hannah if he can: I knew you would keep looking for her, so I started putting some stuff together. Never thought I had give it to you in person […] And I am here … to do what I can.

Max Minghella says: Nick is always been quite keen to orchestrate some kind of reunion between June and Hannah. And help reinstate that family unit but at the same time he is in love with June. At this point, if Hannah was safe in Canada with her parents, I wonder if June would still care about Nick. If we can call it: caring.

Music by Adam Taylor

- What Was She Wearing ❤️

- Intruder At Camp ❤️

Source Pictures: Screenshots (by me)

#the handmaid's tale #osblaine #june osborne #nick blaine #S5E03 #season5 #my POV #adam taylor #music

[iloverianjohnson]

the "new fans" of stranger things aren't cringe, but they're still ruining the fandom - a rant

I'll preface this rant by saying that I have been a fan of Stranger Things since 2019, which means that I'm not an OG fan. Additionally, this is an opinion piece, but I do not mean to spread hate or dunk on anyone. This is just my opinion on the topic. Also, this isn't professionally written, so don't expect any literary masterpiece.

TW for mentions of sexual activity.

Since Season 4 of Stranger Things has come out, there has been a massive surge of new fans in the community. This, of course, is expected when a smash hit show gets another season. Gatekeeping is seriously a problem (and honestly a pointless fight, because Stranger Things is one of the world's biggest shows, so how do people think they'll be able to gatekeep it?), but that's an argument for another blog post.

Obviously, there are some younger fans joining the fandom as well with the release of Season 4. Many of these younger fans find comfort in the characters of the show, especially the new character Eddie Munson. If you haven't watched Stranger Things, Eddie Munson is the lovable metalhead and drug dealer who's suspected of being a serial killer. More notably about his character, however, is his status as the "town freak", which he earned presumably because he is unlike the other kids. He runs a D&D club, dresses differently, listens to metal music, has an extremely theatrical personality, and is even suspected by fans to be part of the LGBTQ+ community, which in the 1980s was a big no-no.

Because of these things, a lot of people (including me!) have come to love Eddie. We can relate to him because many of us have also felt like outcasts, freaks, or rejects.

However, with this surge of new fans, there have been some who have... let's just say that they've taken their crushes on Eddie wayyyyyy too far. You might've heard about the Soundgasm audio, seen the many edited photos of Eddie shirtless, or witnessed the online discourse surrounding his actor Joseph Quinn. Except for the Soundgasm audio, which was posted before Season 4 came out, most of these things have been created by the newer fans.

This is a problem because they are oversexualizing the actor Joseph Quinn and his character. It's also a problem because it's turning the once-peaceful fandom into a warzone.

I'm a fan of Joseph Quinn, and yeah, I think he's pretty good-looking. So do a lot of other people! There's nothing wrong with having celebrity crushes because they're part of growing up. But, I have seen tons of people violating his privacy. Simply search up "Joseph Quinn" on TikTok, and there's a whole community scrutinizing and sexualizing every little action he does. And not every Joseph Quinn fan is bad, duh, but it's alarming to see just how many bad fans there are.

For one, like I mentioned before, the over-sexualization of Joseph Quinn/Eddie Munson. Obviously, like in any fandom, there's gonna be some crazy fans, but it seems everywhere I look there's someone saying "Joe Quinn please have sex with me!" or "Eddie Munson could ruin me and I would thank him". While Eddie Munson is presumably 19-20 years old in the show, it's still wild to see how grossly oversexualized he is. And you might think, "Well, he's not real!" but you have to understand that fiction becomes reality, especially in the minds of teenagers. Younger fans will begin to believe this kind of treatment is okay, and it will carry over into the real world.

Another example is a video circulating on social media of Joseph Quinn going out to eat with a pretty "mystery girl", who's believed to be model Alicia Davis. Since this video came out, the girl has been rumored to have received literal DEATH THREATS from angry fans, along with lots of body shaming and needless criticism. Because, of course, how dare she go out with everyone's celebrity crush?

And here's the kicker - NOBODY KNOWS IF THEY'RE DATING! It could've been a date, sure, or it could've been a casual meetup between two friends! It's so utterly fucked up that she's receiving death threats for literally having lunch with Joe Quinn. And most of the people who are sending these threats are teenagers who don't even have the inkling of a chance with this GROWN MAN. How do I know this? Because the people who are hating on the girl are the same people who are making edits of Joseph Quinn licking his lips during an interview and posting them on TikTok with the caption "I want him to use his tongue on me like that".

A real fan should be happy that their celebrity crush is dating! Sure, you might be disappointed that it's not you because let's face it, most of us have wanted that. That's totally normal! It's fine! So many people have gone through that! But deep down, you know it's not going to happen. The problem lies with the fans who don't know where the protective bubble of fantasy ends and reality begins.

Anyways, this rant may be absolutely incoherent, but I'm weirdly proud of it. I've attached a double-spaced, 12-point document to read in case this text is too hard to read.

Hopefully, this fandom gets back on its feet before it gets worse. The Stranger Things fandom has even started to be compared to the My Hero Academia fandom, which is infamous for being toxic and problematic. As an ex-fan of MHA, I can say that no fandom is like that fandom, but I can't deny its similarities with the Stranger Things fandom.

Again, crushes are part of growing up, and I'm not condemning the throngs of newer fans that hopped on the bandwagon and fell in love with Eddie. I'm honestly grateful for the sudden growth of the fandom because it gives me more people to talk to about the show I love. I am condemning the new fans that take it too far with the character and the actor because it's just wrong.

(here's the doc)

#stranger things #stranger things 4 #dustin stranger things #dustin henderson #eddie munson #eddie munson headcanons #eddie stranger things #joseph quinn #joe quinn #mha #rant #opinion #stranger things season 4 #fandom #fandom culture #fanart #opinion piece

[septembersghost]

Old quote- quite poignant "(When I ask Swift if she tried to get her masters from Big Machine, her whole body slumps with a palpable heaviness. “It was either investing in my past or my and other artists’ future, and I chose the future,” she says of the deal she struck with Universal.)" vogue(.)com/article/taylor-swift-cover-september-2019

she did so many good, insightful interviews for lover, i hope eventually she feels like doing a bit of press again because i always value hearing her thoughts and more about her process. this was so foreshadowing of, "he's got my past frozen behind glass/but i've got me." she banked on her future and she was right, and she's managed to forge ahead while triumphantly claiming that past anew. it doesn't mean it's all been easy or erase this hurt, but she's really flown free.

this part too:

"IT'S ENLIGHTENING to read 13 years of Taylor Swift coverage—all the big reviews, all the big profiles—in one sitting. You notice things.

How quickly Swift went from a “prodigy” (The New Yorker) and a “songwriting savant” (Rolling Stone) to a tabloid fixture, for instance. Or how suspect her ambition is made to seem once she acquires real power.

Other plot points simply look different in the light of #MeToo. It is hard to imagine that Swift’s songs about her exes would be reviewed as sensationally today. I wonder if, in 2019, any man would dare grab the microphone out of a young woman’s hands at an awards show. I stared into space for a good long while when I was reminded that Pitchfork did not review Taylor Swift’s 1989 but did review Ryan Adams’s cover album of Taylor Swift’s 1989.

I ask Swift if she had always been aware of sexism. “I think about this a lot,” she says. “When I was a teenager, I would hear people talk about sexism in the music industry, and I’d be like, I don’t see it. I don’t understand. Then I realized that was because I was a kid. Men in the industry saw me as a kid. I was a lanky, scrawny, overexcited young girl who reminded them more of their little niece or their daughter than a successful woman in business or a colleague. The second I became a woman, in people’s perception, was when I started seeing it.

It’s fine to infantilize a girl’s success and say, How cute that she’s having some hit songs,” she goes on. “How cute that she’s writing songs. But the second it becomes formidable? As soon as I started playing stadiums—when I started to look like a woman—that wasn’t as cool anymore. It was when I started to have songs from Red come out and cross over, like ‘I Knew You Were Trouble’ and ‘We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together.’ ”

Those songs are also more assertive than the ones that came before, I say. “Yeah, the angle was different when I started saying, I knew you were trouble when you walked in. Basically, you emotionally manipulated me and I didn’t love it. That wasn’t fun for me.”

I have to wonder if having her songwriting overlooked as her hits were picked apart and scrutinized wasn’t the biggest bummer of all. Swift: “I wanted to say to people, You realize writing songs is an art and a craft and not, like, an easy thing to do? Or to do well? People would act like it was a weapon I was using. Like a cheap dirty trick. Be careful, bro, she’ll write a song about you. Don’t stand near her. First of all, that’s not how it works. Second of all, find me a time when they say that about a male artist: Be careful, girl, he’ll use his experience with you to get—God forbid—inspiration to make art.”

Without question the tenor of the Taylor Swift Narrative changed most dramatically in July 2016, when Kim Kardashian West called her a “snake” on Twitter, and released video clips of Swift and Kanye West discussing the lyrics to his song “Famous.” (No need to rehash the details here. Suffice it to say that Swift’s version of events hasn’t changed: She knew about some of the lyrics but not others; specifically, the words that bitch.) The posts sparked several hashtags, including #TaylorSwiftIsASnake and #TaylorSwiftIsCanceled, which quickly escalated into a months-long campaign to “cancel” Swift.

To this day Swift doesn’t think people grasp the repercussions of that term. “A mass public shaming, with millions of people saying you are quote-unquote canceled, is a very isolating experience,” she says. “I don’t think there are that many people who can actually understand what it’s like to have millions of people hate you very loudly.” She adds: “When you say someone is canceled, it’s not a TV show. It’s a human being. You’re sending mass amounts of messaging to this person to either shut up, disappear, or it could also be perceived as, Kill yourself.”

An overhaul was in order. “I realized I needed to restructure my life because it felt completely out of control,” Swift says. “I knew immediately I needed to make music about it because I knew it was the only way I could survive it.”

#the whole internet but particularly swifties would at times do well to read this interview again #she said some really important and clarifying and illuminating things in it #that i still see dismissed far too often #thrown out speeches #taylor swift #anonymous #letterbox

[onwardnroyalty]

Can we talk about how unfairly two Disney sequel movies have been treated after Moana? I mean, the first was Ralph Breaks the Internet, which gets SO MUCH UNNECESSARY AND UNFAIR HATE. Then there’s Frozen II, which gets hate, but not as much as Ralph Breaks the Internet. It’s all until Encanto comes along and gets acclaimed. Let me tell you why Ralph 2abd Frozen II are GREAT Disney sequels and DO NOT deserve all the hate they get.

First of all, I will be among the small village to defend Ralph 2 and agree with how it ends, because the majority of people who hate it for their own reason honestly just make me sick as hell. Like, FUCK the assholes who think negatively about Vanellope for her decision to move into Slaughter Race and out of Sugar Rush, believing her to have selfishly "gone Turbo" (when she clearly did nothing of the sort). She only wanted to experience something new outside of her game, and while she is on much better terms with everyone in Sugar Rush now, she does not have that much attachment to them since they ostracized her for years--although it was not really their fault, on account that Turbo brainwashed them after he took over the game (until he was ultimately exposed and defeated by Ralph). Also, Vanellope may have been the princess/president of Sugar Rush, but she was not an essential part of the game, just a playable racer like the others. So when she said to Ralph that no one would miss her, she meant players of the arcade, not the citizens of Sugar Rush or the other video game characters she became acquainted with. Vanellope probably could have at least said goodbye to them as well and not just Ralph, but she wasn't putting anyone at risk leaving her game like Turbo did; they were all okay with her choice and able to stay in touch with her like Ralph was. Besides, Sugar Rush is supposed to have a rotating roster of players, so odds are players of the arcade wouldn't question why she is missing. Plus, the company that made Sugar Rush went out of business, so unless they sold the rights to their characters, it's unlikely anyone would question a guest character like her showing up in Slaughter Race. Furthermore, Vanellope's code was incorporated into Slaughter Race by the end of the film, so that she could stay in the game and never die outside of Sugar Rush. Thus, she made the right decision in following her dreams (which was encouraged by the Disney Princesses). So if one more person dares say she went Turbo, I am gonna just quit my life for real, because SHE DID ABSOLUTELY NOTHING LIKE THAT WHATFUCKINGSOEVER.

Moving on to Frozen II, I found it to be a really good sequel that’s better than the original (yes, I know how iconic the original one is, and I still love it). Olaf is still my favorite character in the whole Frozen franchise, so seeing him all confused and hurt about everything changing (and then FADING AWAY later on) cuts me deep. Also, the music is great and takes it to the next level (Show Yourself specifically). Like Ralph 2, the storyline is especially clever.

One thing these sequels have in common is the central message they have: that no matter how far apart two can be, they will still always be the best of friends and that all it takes is trust. If I could pick, I’d say Ralph Breaks the Internet does it a bit better than Frozen II. I mean, come on, this is a friendship story we’re talking about. That part where the halved necklace combines at the end? B-E-A-U-T-I-F-U-L. It’s also about insecurities and not letting them define you in any possible way. Ralph was afraid things would go back to how they were in the first film, him seen as only a villain rather than a friend. Vanellope was the first to relate and see the darkness in him because she too felt that darkness. She was his first true best friend for maybe his whole damn life. So when she considers a more exciting life in the Internet, he’s terrified that he might lose her, much so that he takes it upon himself to plant that virus into the Slaughter Race game. It’s when Ralph truly understands how important it is to trust Vanellope and believe in her that he lets her go. After that, he starts to feel more confident and interact with others. Not to mention he calls her whenever.

Frozen II, on the other hand, takes a sibling-like approach to the message. Anna becomes afraid of losing her eldest sister Elsa to the enchanted forest until learning how important it is to trust her sister and know that Arendelle will be safe from harm as long. Not sure if that’s the case, because I haven’t watched Frozen II in a while, but I know that happened.

Apologies for the long rant, but I felt like I had to get something off my chest for a little bit there. So anyways, there you have it: Ralph Breaks the Internet and Frozen II are very great Disney sequels, and no, I don’t care that haters say otherwise, nor will I take any criticism. Thanks for listening to my TED Talk.

#fuck haters #they suck #disney movies #wreck it ralph #frozen #ralph breaks the internet #frozen 2

[newwavesailor]

print("Hello, World!")

And goodbye, Twitter/X...

It's a beautiful day.

You probably don't know, but I was on Twitter from around 2014 up until the dawn of X. (the name of the platform, not the punk band)

Yes, as I am somewhat ashamed to admit, I tolerated the Muskrat's consumerist bull crap for what may have been too long. I had previously experimented with Tumblr in the past, originally wanting to do an ask blog. (Yeah, remember those?) But alas, that account sat abandoned for a good few years before I deleted it. But I'm back.

To say my time on Twitter was all bad, would be a lie. I met some real nice people on Twitter, and I hardly ever had a bad experience. It was through Twitter I really started embracing my role in the Sailor Moon fandom. But once the Muskrat took over, it would be an understatement to say all hell broke loose - It was practically Armageddon.

Verified accounts being prioritized, limits being placed on the amounts of tweets you can view, punishing those who dared say a bad thing about the Muskrat, barring off links to other platforms, it's fair to say that The Social Media Platform (Formerly Known as Twitter) was slowly becoming a small authoritarian city-state of the Internet.

But I tolerated it. I endured it. But as with a lot of endurances, there will be a straw that will break the camel's back. And for me, that was X.

I was shocked. Flabbergasted, even. The Muskrat had basically stripped the platform of its very identity -- And for me, that was the breaking point. I had to get off Twitter. I put my account into an archive state, and earlier today, I deactivated it for real.

Thus bringing a bitter end to my time with Twitter. What started as a place to speak your mind, and share your interests, slowly but surely became a place to really watch your tongue lest Big Brother Muskrat banish you. I guess all good things must come to an end someday.

Long rant over; Allow me to introduce myself!

Hello, my name is Maxwell. I'm an artist type. I'm a huge fan of Sailor Moon, though not necessarily anime in general, and I also really enjoy things from decades before my birth -- Especially 1980's new wave music.

Now, I know what you're thinking, "Oh, you're just another one of those 'born in the wrong generation' type people, are you?"

Trust me, I've seen those kind of people. I don't know what they're like, but they seem a bit fake. However, I mean it. I genuinely love old music. Other interests of mine include SpongeBob SquarePants, retro video games, making song mashups, drawing cartoons, and Neil Cicierega. I am a liberal democrat, in case you were wondering.

I was diagnosed with Asperger's syndrome at an early age, which puts me on the autism spectrum. The exact details I will not go into.

And that's really the lot of it. I hope to see you around!

#new user #goodbye twitter #i have a new friend now and it's not elon #death of twitter #elongated muskrat #sailor moon fandom #twitter refugees #twitter #twitter death #twitter rebrand #twitter x

[robinruns]

My thoughts on Taylor, as of late

In my opinion, people don't need to speak on every single thing someone else in their life is saying or doing. The issue I have, though, is the fact that she started hanging out with Matty, and has continued to do so, long after his racist and gross comments came to light. When she found out she could have cut him off, but she chose to stay around him.

My friend made the comment the other day that this might be a contractual PR relationship. If that's the case, Taylor needs to fire whoever thought this would be a good idea. I know those sorts of things happen WAAAAAY more often than you'd think, but still. Taylor, look at how frustrated, disgusted, mad, sad your fans are! And maybe more importantly to you, look at how this reflects on you.

And that's the thing, with the announcement of Midnights version 29173, we know she sees what people are saying because she went back in to re-record Snow At The Beach with Lana! Yes I'm sure the new version of Karma (the irony) with Ice Spice was recorded a while back, but again, the fucking optics of it all. It would make a lot more of an impact if Taylor took this moment to let us know that she doesn't tolerate racists and that Matty was out of her life. But he's not so...

And I know the swifties who come for every single person who dares critique Taylor, love to scream about people just making it about her relationships, so I won't. I have PLENTY of critiques about her business dealings too.

I'm not gonna criticize someone, especially a woman, wanting to achieve high levels of success. I've got no problem with a singer branching out into other forms of media. But her recent attempts toward getting recognition in the movie world, and potentially an EGOT if that's her goal, is getting... hamfisted feels like the wrong word here (but it is like 4:45 am right now so forgive me if this isn't my most concise take ever). Carolina wasn't that good of a song, and the movie it was for wasn't it either. Trying to get an Oscar nom for 10 Minute All Too Well? I mean it doesn't hurt to try, but do you really need to do that? Do you really think it was Oscar worthy? It was a good, emotional music video. But if those are the qualifications, I demand a retroactive nomination for The Ghost of You by MCR. That made me feel more in a lot less time. Just saying.

Then we get to the cluster fuck that has been the Midnights era. My list of grievances is long. To start, the fact that no lead single was released ahead of the album is really presumptuous. I know it was a move to say "look how much I can sell without even releasing anything!" But it's frustrating as a fan. Give us something!

And then allllll the different versions. Good lord. So first she announces the album, pre-sales go up. Then a week later "oh yea, here are three more variants!" Two weeks later "Did you get all 4 versions? Because they make a clock!!" Girl we get it, it's called Midnights, this is clearly just a ploy to sell more records to people YOU KNOW will buy multiple copies of the same thing!! Two weeks later "Want a signed version? Now you can order those too!" Then somewhere in there she announces a Target exclusive version with an exclusive song (and two alternate versions of songs on the album). Seriously? So now there are FIVE different variants people can buy and the difference is there is 1 extra song on 1 version.

This is exploiting fans. She knows that people will buy all four and make that dumb clock because she sold kits to put it up on your wall and make it a literal clock! Stringing out the announcements like that is only artificially driving up the sales too so she can say "look how much I sold!"

Then! This one really pissed me off, The 3 AM edition. So after all those versions trickled out, the album drops and "SURPRISE here's ANOTHER version of the album for you to download with all these songs that aren't on ANY of the 5 albums you already bought! And no, they won't be available outside the US."

Come on.

And that's not getting into the 10000 different remixes she has been releasing for all the singles, again doing nothing but driving up numbers. There's making art and earning a living, and then there's exploiting a dedicated fanbase that will spend everything they have just to show support.

And that's what they did when the Eras Tour was announced. Yes I know Ticketmaster was very much to blame for this. Yes Ticketmaster is a disgusting monopoly and needs to be taken down, but that doesn't change she was at the center of it. That doesn't change that she chose to leave dynamic pricing in place, driving up the cost of seats. Not that they were cheap to begin with! But since my friends and I would have to travel at least a few hours, get a hotel, etc, I quickly lost interest in it all. Yes an artist, as they reach the pinnacle of their career, will have more and more expensive tickets, it's expected, but from my perspective, it feels more like watching a dragon sit on its hoard of gold. The only thought given toward the fan seems to be "Well they'll buy it, so I'll sell it!"

And lastly, we know that Taylor knows how to stay out of the spotlight. She did it from 2016 through the majority of 2017. She made an album at that time, she came and went from her homes in that time. But now she can't move without there being a massive pack of fans. We get it, you want to be seen now, so don't cry to us over a lack of privacy at this point. If you really liked Matty you could hide the relationship away instead of flaunting it for the world (Joe) to see. You want us to see you with that edgelord. So do you really care about what your fans feel? Or do you just care how much they'll spend? Because no amount of good songwriting is going to top that.

#god there are so many additional things i wanted to say #but this has been weighing on my mind for a while now so im glad i took the hour to write it down