#implied buckingham

[nburkhardt]

Of Scissors & Wild Curls

Trying to beat out my writers block by writing an au troupe I absolutely love reading and haven’t written before. Just a heads up, it’s in modern times just so I don’t have to worry about being accurate to anything in the 80s ✌️ (this was stated on June 16th, when I started it)

anyway enjoy!

It’s the worst day of his entire life.

Right now. This is absolutely the day to end all bad days. It’ll be in his autobiography, it’ll be written in news articles and maybe a movie someday.

He wants to die a million deaths, truly.

It’s The Worst.

…. Or he might be exaggerating a bit. Just a little. Really, it’s not the end of the world.

This time at least.

Look, he’s had a long ass week and had a fight with some idiot taking pictures of him absolutely not falling on his ass. And the record label just told him that they need at least another album before letting the band take a much needed break.

Also, if he’s being truthful here, his writers block is a killer.

There’s a wall just planted in his brain, cutting off any and all lyrics the band needs for another fucking album.

Where was he again? Oh, worst day of his life.

“We’re going to stop in the next town, maybe we can find a place to- help?”

He groans and throws his head back, looking over at Gareth, “dude, my hair is a fucking disaster. There’s no helping that!”

Gareth crosses his arms with a deadpan look, “Ed, I think you’re overreacting a little. It’s just a little piece of gum! It’s not even that far in your hair, maybe this can be a little-“

“Don’t say it!”

“-trim”

He glares at him, “a little trim? This piece of shit is near my goddamn neck, Gare! I CAN FEEL IT! That fucking asshole did it on purpose too, I just know it!”

There’s a little five foot asshole out in the world, that’s his number one enemy now. Slapping him on the back with a “great show, my man!” Before walking away with a snicker. At the moment he didn’t think anything of it, too busy focusing on the fans around him trying to get his attention. His adrenaline and energy buzzing too much to realize something off with that guy.

He didn’t even notice it, it was a goddamn fan to point it out. Because they felt it when they took a picture together.

See? Worst day ever.

Right now they’re in the bus already moving onto the next city for the next concert. He isn’t even sure what’s the next one, all he knows is his hair has fucking gum in it and it’s the worst thing to ever happen to him.

“I still think you’re overreacting just a little, look, maybe there’s a way to get it out without cutting anything. We just have to find a place, there’s a two day break before the next concert. Ok?” Gareth pulls his hands away from his face, “Chris even told our driver to be on the lookout for places already.”

Sighing, he leans back and looks at his best friend, “I guess you’re right”

“I’m always right, dude.”

Rolling his eyes, he gets up and decides to take a nap face down because there’s no way he’s making it worse and getting stuck to his sheets.

Okay so, he’s overreacting a little bit. But he’s been growing his hair out for years now. It’s the perfect length and just wild enough that everyone knows him just by the hair.

It’s his thing, okay?!

A phone is slammed down and he flinches before looking towards the front, “did the phone kill your dog? Or was that-“

Robin whipped her head around a pinched look on her face, “that was goddamn Fran asking for a perm, I swear to god I don’t know how you deal with her! She actually had the nerve to praise you about letting her go so long without paying! She’s scheduled for Friday, because and I quote ‘my hair is straight as a needle’ she doesn’t do shit with her hair, Steve!”

He shakes his head and grabs his water before walking towards her, “Truthfully? I kinda zone out when I’m working on her hair.”

Robin blinked at him before she burst out laughing.

Being one of the only hair salons in their tiny town has some benefits, which is taking some customers that only pay after ranking up to nearly $300. That and he can hire anyone he wants and having a crew of just their friends is a perfect way to deal with the few crazy customers they get.

Oh, and he gets to hang out with them all the time while doing something he actually loves.

When he decided to go to cosmetology school instead of whatever place his dad wanted, he didn’t think he’d end up here. Honestly. His mom told him there was a chance it would go no where, that it’ll just be another thing to add to his list of hobbies.

Baseball, basketball, swimming, drawing and lastly cutting hair.

According to his dad, all of that was pointless. Well, not basketball. To his mom, it just made him look good for future partners. Thankfully their opinions don’t matter to him much anymore, they’re long gone from this tiny town and he’s twenty five now.

Really, he doesn’t need their support or opinions anymore.

“Woah! Dingus come here!” Robin calls out without needing to, the shop is small and he’s just at his station, “there’s your dorky kids jumping around like actual kids”

Rolling his eyes, he stands next to her to find that; yes across the street is the kids- now teenagers jumping around some parked bus. He can’t quite make out what’s on the bus, his vision is shit with letters even with his contacts in. Whatever they’re excited about is probably related to their dragons game.

So definitely nothing he’d understand. Right?

His attention is drawn away from the teens because of the door opening, he spins around with a smile already on his face. “Hello, do you have an appointment today?”

Standing half way in the door is a tiny blonde with a high pony tail and clearly not from around here. He pretty much knows everyone in Hawkins, or at least he knows everyone that comes into his shop.

This person definitely hasn’t been in before, she is adorable though. Totally Robin’s type, actually. Glancing at his best friend, and yep, there’s already hearts in her eyes.

“Hi! No, actually I wanted to see if you did have any openings?” Tiny Blonde smiles and he can see her glance at Robin, “either of you?”

If he could, he’d totally leave Robin to handle this by herself. It’d be pay back for when she ditched him at the bar a few weeks ago, but he’s not that petty. “Technically she can’t cut or color anyone’s hair, but I’m free later. I got a person coming in like twenty minutes. What did you-“

“Actually, it’s for a friend of mine!” She shakes her head and pulls her phone out, glancing at it and typing something quickly before looking back at him, “Can you do like a quick, consult maybe? Not like now, but later?”

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Robin nod her head as if she’s the one going to do it. Rolling his eyes he smiles and moves to the appointment book, taking a quick glance he can technically squeeze in something. “Just a consult?”

“Maybe a trim if all goes well, we could even come in tomorrow if you can’t today. We did just get into town, I’m sure my friend will understand if you can’t” her phone beeps and he can’t tell but it seems like she’s grimacing at whatever was sent, “or maybe you know another place?”

Technically he could send them somewhere else, but he’s curious plus from the glare he can feel from Robin- he glances at her and yep, she’s glaring a hole in his head.

He doesn’t need to ask her that she wants this pretty blonde to come back.

“Nah, you can come back at four. We can chat and figure out what needs or can be done.“ he smiles at her before handing over an appointment card, “I’m Steve, by the way. That’s Robin”

She takes the card with a smile, “Oh! I’m Chrissy, you don’t realize how much this will make my friend’s day. We’ll see you then, it’ll just be you two, right?”

“Yep! See you in a few hours!” Chrissy flashed a bright smile at him then Robin before opening the door and walking away.

He doesn’t even bother looking towards Robin to tell her, “You’ve got it bad”

There’s a loud shriek and then a laugh as Chrissy walks away. She smiles before looking down at her phone to text the good news.

‘Best news of your life right now, four o’clock. Dummy’

‘THANK YOU ❤️🖤’

It’s inching closer and closer to four and Steve isn’t sure if Chrissy just forgot or that her friend decided it wasn’t worth it. Either way, he’s going to clean up now because it’s been a long day and all he wants now is to drink some wine while relaxing on his couch.

He’s listening to Robin vent from across the salon, while cleaning the mirrors. “Despite how pretty she is, if they don’t show up soon I’m closing this place up!”

“It’s not even officially four yet, Robs.” He laughs and turns away from his mirror to clean the chair, “we have like five minutes before we give up on it.”

Robin let’s out a groan, spinning around to point at him with a glare, “It’s Friday night and I have plans, Steven!”

“I hope these plans don’t involve me, Robin. I have to be in here at fucking eight in the morning, I’d like to get at least five hours of sleep” he glares over at her, “the last time we went out and I had to work in the morning, I almost didn’t make it in”

Because of Robin’s loud laughter he nearly misses the door opening, he bounces up with a smile, “hi can I- Chrissy!”

Standing by the front desk is of course, Chrissy along with her is a tall guy with long wild curls standing next to her. He has a pair of sunglasses on and his hands shoved into the leather jacket he has on.

“Hi guys, sorry we didn’t get here sooner there was a crowd and this one couldn’t get passed it withou- ow! Eddie!” She glared at the man, Eddie apparently, and rubbing her arm.

It’s confusing but he’s not going to question it, his relationship with Robin is weird, probably weirder actually. So instead of questioning that he moves closer, “it’s fine, we were just cleaning up real quick. We said just a consult right or did you figure out what you wanted?”

Wordlessly, the two of a conversation right there. Hand movements, head nods and shakes before there’s a bright satisfied smile on Chrissy’s face appears. Eddie looks not upset per-say but definitely like he lost whatever was said in their conversation.

“Yep! He’ll do a trim, but there’s a little problem. You see, someone decided to put gum on his back and-”

Robin’s laughing again while he’s just horrified for Eddie. He can’t help but feel bad for the hair, well, maybe Eddie too. But he hasn’t said a word to them yet, still standing there with his glasses on and now crossing his arms with what looks like a pout on his face. Chrissy’s still talking about the gum and how it’s ruined Eddie’s day and they couldn’t figure out any other way to get it out.

He shakes his head, moving towards his chair and patting it, “well, I can’t figure anything out until you’re sitting in the chair and I get a closer look at the hair”

Eddie looks between the chair and Chrissy, before moving towards him and sitting in the chair. Sunglasses still on his face, a pout very much there as well. Up close, his hair is even more wild than he originally thought. The curls are a mess, that’s clear as he sticks his hand to figure out how much the gum is stuck.

It’s not too terrible, definitely bad but not enough where if he does cut it out, the hair wouldn’t be much different.

There is however, the fact that this guy is clearly not taking proper care of his hair. For as wild as it is, the curls are frizzy and not defined.

“Good news, I could cut the gum out and you’re hair won’t lose too much length or I could also try getting it out using some oil without taking scissors to your hair.”

“And the bad news?”

“You’re not taking proper care of your hair, these curls could be so much more”

He hears Chrissy let out a giggle and Robin’s definitely laughing with her, but his gaze is on Eddie, who’s mouth drops and nearly rips the glasses off to show that his eyes are wide with shock.

Steve can’t help himself, he smiles and lets his own little giggle out.

Eddie looks absolutely ridiculous and Steve might know him, like, at all. But he’s definitely someone he’d like to know eventually, being this dramatic over a little comment? That’s someone worth knowing, he thinks.

———

Ending it there lol.

Wanna know what’s funny? I started this to get out of my writers block and ended up getting it WITH THIS.

So I used wip wednesdays/weekends to push myself along and finally after also talking with @i-less-than-three-you & @strangersteddierthings I’ve decided to make this a two parter! I get to share what I already wrote AND give myself a way to write them actually getting together.

I also wanna shout out @artiststarme for helping me a bit too! They gave me a few suggestions and helped out so thank you to all three of them 🩷 you all are amazing and I love you!!

Tag list! (If you’d like to be added let me know)

@spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @gregre369 @zerokrox-blog @bookworm0690 @flustratedcas @carlprocastinator1000 @marvelmwah @solliesolesito @navnae @i-less-than-three-you

@yikes-a-bee @sc00ps-ahoy @geekymagicalpotato @thesuninyaface @penny00dreadful

PS: if you made it this far you get to know that the thing with someone not paying until the bill is up to $300 is a true fucking story. There’s a lady that comes into my work (a hair salon btw) and gets away with coming in for a hair wash or color or perms and doesn’t pay! Idk why my boss continues letting her do this but she does 🤷‍♀️

#steddie #steddie fic #implied buckingham #nburkhardt writes #hair salon meet #steve harrington x eddie munson #rockstar Eddie Munson #hair stylist Steve Harrington #platonic stobin #platonic hellcheer #corroded coffin #stranger things fic

[fifteenleads]

a haunting at the morgue

It isn't every day that a Medieval Duke haunts the hospital morgue.

Richard takes it in stride, until he doesn't.

[A Hospital Halloween AU]

-

There is, of course, a lot to be said about handling inconveniences on the job– though anyone can certainly pursue any career they wish, it’s only those who have the right mettle for it who manage to stay with comfortable ease. This was certainly proven true when the latest valedictorian from the medical school apparently got kicked out of General Surgery Training because of an “unexpectedly visceral reaction to the sight of blood and guts on his very first day on the job.”

The poor guy’s now their newest intern in Anatomic Pathology, and to this day Richard never understood how on earth he could remain so obstinate, seeing as autopsies are not so different from surgeries at all. It’ll probably suck to be the mortician on duty when he performs his first one, however soon that will be.

This little hiccup aside, Richard York quite enjoys his job, thank you very much. His mother had absolutely been against his plans to reclaim and take over the almost-defunct funeral home the Nevilles used to run, but he, too, had always been obstinate like that. For now, he’s employed as the chief mortician of this small hospital in the middle of nowhere to gain enough experience for his career plans.

Also, he doesn’t scare easily, which makes him practically perfect for the job– unlike a certain someone. Not that he’s ever met the guy yet, but.

“You overthink, Richard,” the specter before him admonishes. “This lad you speak of is simply inexperienced, something he shouldn’t be faulted for. Your haste in passing judgment on him is in poor taste.”

“You misunderstand, Buckingham,” Richard huffs in reply, not even looking up as he wipes down the last of the dissection tables. “Would you choose your liege based on potential and gut feel alone when there are clearly better prospects?” He then meets Buckingham’s eyes, raising an eyebrow expectantly, but is only met with silence. “I didn’t think so.”

This is actually the real challenge– being literally haunted at his workplace. Richard’s latest unearthly guest calls himself the Duke of Buckingham, but to an overworked and underpaid hospital worker, one dead man is no different from the rest– especially after having already dealt with more familiar historical figures before this one.

That said, it does feel as if he knows Buckingham at a more personal, metaphysical level, much to Richard’s own bewilderment. They’ve talked about similar matters in the past month, mostly revolving around the state of the Government, and Buckingham does seem to be updated enough with current events to engage in intelligent discussion, at least.

Today, however, he seems to be more sentimental for some reason. Maybe later’s a good time to attempt an informal exorcism, Richard muses. He’d wait and see first, though, if the Duke's ready to move on. No one else has lasted this long in the morgue, really.

“... Be that as it may, you were meant to be King,” Buckingham’s eyes become downcast, rueful and a little lovelorn(?) behind the shadow of his spectacles. “I could not dream of rallying behind any other liege than you… of loving anyone else but you.”

“What–” Richard sputters, almost knocking over the dissection tools to the floor. He definitely did not mishear that. A chill runs down his spine for the first time since he first worked here, and he feels lightheaded all of a sudden. Good Lord.

He grabs the edge of the table for support, feeling his knees starting to buckle underneath him. Buckingham’s pleading eyes burn through him as he feels himself slowly being cornered yet unable to move or even look away. An ice-cold hand gently lifts his chin, the other tucking a stray fringe over his eye behind his ear; a cold sweat starts to form there.

“You’re… insane,” Richard manages to croak out with his parched throat. Definitely feeling too weak to call for help– not that anyone would be remotely useful in this predicament, if they can’t even see ghosts anyway. “I’m no king. I’m–”

Buckingham’s lips move too rapidly for him to understand, and Richard desperately deciphers the whispered words there, even as those same lips break into a gentle smile and close in to meet Richard’s in a feather-light, chaste kiss.

A jingle of keys from the distance break through the ringing in Richard’s ears, and he manages to regain most of his senses. His palms phase through Buckingham’s chest as he tries to push away, making him lose his footing altogether as he buckles and falls onto the floor. A sudden rush of adrenaline warms his body, and he quickly crawls away from the stunned Duke, pulling his own weight with sheer willpower until he reaches the exit.

Richard’s heart rate finally slows down as he leans on the door to Ana-Path, not daring to look back at the morgue for a while. His lips slowly regain warmth, yet the memory of Buckingham's ice-cold ones earlier send him quivering, as he attempts to process what had just happened. He wasn’t even supposed to be here today– his shift isn’t until tomorrow on Halloween evening. Just his luck that Buckingham chooses to go haywire today, of all days.

Maybe he should have listened to Catesby’s advice and just stayed home today. That guy seems to have uncanny precognition for workplace disasters for some reason.

In any case, he’s definitely calling the chaplain first thing tomorrow. Reverend Henry’s already used to this paranormal stuff. Richard thought he is, too, but not ghostly love confessions and delusions of mistaken identity– especially ones of medieval kinghood, or something. He also makes a mental note to swear the Reverend to absolute secrecy about this particular haunting, lest word spreads to the rest of the occupants of the hospital basement, especially the new Path intern. It’ll all unravel from there, rumors and hasty judgments and all, and Richard does not have the spoons to handle all that, thank you very much.

#requiem of the rose king #baraou no souretsu #richard iii #henry stafford #buckingham #ghost and hauntings #implied reincarnation #modern AU

[anniesafangirl]

Why are yall being so dramatic about this when Brimsley and the Queen are clearly at Buckingham house, and the King (and by extension, Reynolds) is clearly at Kew

The whole point of the Brimsley-Reynolds relationship is that they can only be together if Charlotte and George are, because they have to stay with them

It was supposed to be a sad moment to show the impact and implications of the King's madness and the Queen's loneliness on not only their life but also the lives of those around them. How did y'all manage to go and take it out of context when it is very clearly implied that the only reason Brimsley and Reynolds are able to be together is because Charlotte and George are together as well

#Reynolds is not dead #bridgerton #queen charlotte #king george iii #brimsley x reynolds #i just can't #What happened to reynolds

[thepastisalreadywritten]

The most powerful moment of the coronation of King Charles III was not the gold glittering off carriages or epaulettes — not the pomp and show and signifiers of power.

It was precisely their opposite: when Charles shed his gold robes and stood in a thin white shirt, his frail humanity implied.

Then a screen was erected around him and, shielded, he had a private consultation with the Archbishop of Canterbury, who dabbed anointing oil with his hands on Charles’s bare breast.

"This was the most solemn and personal of moments,” Buckingham Palace said.

Charles was bare before God, in privacy, God being one of the last beings with no need to sign a non-disclosure agreement.

The Princess of Wales looked on as the screen shielded her father-in-law.

By contrast, she was at that point the most magnificent she had ever been, swathed in layer upon layer of regality, the dress, the robes, the hanging chains, headpiece and ribbons all serving to move the viewing gaze — subjects in every sense — from our awareness of Catherine Middleton with her everyday human DNA and towards the shared fiction of her transcendent queenliness.

Less than a year later, this moment is remembered with new and terrible power.

It is spring again, but it’s a time of hard Lenten moral reflection for us as a nation, in relationship to our royals, as well as an ever more voraciously unprivate modern celebrity culture.

Both the King and the princess have cancer, the latter’s disclosed by Catherine in an unprecedented video address on Friday, March 22.

Catherine’s speech was something of a plea bargain in which she traded not only her customary silence but her most personal of health ordeals in order to put an end to toxic rumours swirling online that had become in tone like an unruly mob rattling at the palace gates.

Or rattling at the figurative locks on her medical notes, with three workers at the London Clinic, where she and the King were treated, suspended and under investigation for allegedly trying to access her records (hers, it is important to note, the King’s were unmolested).

📷: Getty Images

What was so powerful about the anointing of the King was the sacredness of that space in which he could be fully human away from observation and judgment.

There should be another one-on-one consultation that is sacred, where anyone, from King to princess to pauper, can expect to be shriven in total privacy, and that is the sanctity of the medical room.

It used to be that priests were our only bound confidants, we could trust them to be privy to all our spiritual ills.

Now doctors are our secular priests: bound by law and ethics to enshrine confidentiality at the heart of the patient relationship.

As a result, our medical privacy in an age of oversharing and online surveillance feels both stranger and more necessary.

If we knew our every GP-inspected rash was to be posted on TikTok for the nation, many of us would quite literally die of embarrassment.

The King’s appointment behind the three-sided screen can now be viewed through the lens of royal illness.

The lavishly embroidered panels and expensive white shirt now replaced by the flimsy three-sided ward screen on wheels and thin hospital gown that can humble us all.

But it also enacts a principle at the very heart of becoming the monarch.

The medical-like screen is erected in the coronation to tell us there are some places the public cannot go; to tell us that there are sacredly personal moments in which a person, any person, however swathed in our projections of power, needs to be nakedly human.

Otherwise, they will go mad. We need to make sure the screens are erected around Catherine now.

Much is said, quite a lot of it by Prince Harry himself, of the dangers of the wives of the princes repeating the tragic history of their mother, Princess Diana, hunted by photographers.

He remains phobic to any hint of tabloid persecution or paparazzi chase. But this is a sideshow, even an anachronism in 2024.

He and others have not recognised how the “chase” has changed. Who needs paparazzi when there are a billion citizen hacks ready to take pictures with their phones, in case a convalescing woman nips to a Windsor farm shop with her husband?

Instead, the appetite now is not to see but to know.

The royals used to have a contract with the public: we pay for them, and in return, they give us their presence.

Nearly all of their official job is to do with surface: to show up, to put in appearances at a set number of functions, whether at the opening of parliament or the opening of a leisure centre.

But now parts of the online mob seem to be staging a coup. We want more than the surface, we want to puncture the skin barrier of the royal family and occupy from the inside.

The “fans” have become an invasive virus. The royal analogy is often that they are trapped in a gilded zoo. This new model, instead, casts the royals more as lab rats.

When Catherine disappeared from view in January after announcing a “planned abdominal operation,” the response from internet truthers was one of irate entitlement.

They are now the 1980s tabloids: ravening for intimacies and making stuff up when thwarted.

This wasn’t the boomer generation, who are both more respectful of the royals and more private about their own health.

It was the fortysomething mothers frustrated when they can’t track the phone location of everyone in their life; or the twentysomethings on Snap Map.

Both desperate for their personalised new Netflix season of “The Royals” to drop.

Catherine presents with such stoicism and dignity, it is easy to forget where this new invasiveness started: when she was pregnant with Prince George in December 2012 and hospitalised for extreme morning sickness.

While she was sleeping on the ward, a radio station in Australia rang the hospital switchboard pretending to be the Queen.

They broadcast the nurse’s comments about Catherine’s “retching.”

One could only find this prank funny if Catherine had already — a young, wretchedly ill, pregnant woman — been dehumanised.

George is now ten and his mother hospitalised again, and in that decade, the physical security of ill royals may have tightened but their claim to bodily autonomy seems to have weakened.

Some say Kensington Palace “brought it on themselves” by their wish for discretion; this claim is duplicitous.

The late Queen Elizabeth II became increasingly debilitated in her final years with not much detail ever given; just as her father, King George VI, died without disclosing his lung cancer.

I’m glad that the British do not subject their heads of state to the same publicised medical reports as the president of the United States; one shouldn’t have to present a stool swab to sit on the throne.

No, instead the apparent justification of all those clicking and posting conspiracy theories “worried for Catherine’s welfare” was this sinful truth.

As a beautiful, 42-year-old mother of three, her drama was more box office than the ailments of those older, a pound of her flesh was worth more.

Pity, Susan Sontag said in her 1978 book Illness as Metaphor, is close to contempt.

Back then cancer was still taboo. Those around the patient, Sontag says, “express pity but also convey contempt.”

Ask any cancer patient and they will say they don’t want pity: it is too isolating, it sets them apart, an unwanted privilege.

This is why the video plea of Catherine was one of affinity, rather than pity or privilege.

Last year, she sat in robes in Westminster Abbey at the coronation of her father-in-law, next to her future king son and future king husband.

In her video address last week, she sat on a classically English garden bench, pale, alone and in jeans, as bare of pomp as any royal can be.

No mention of kings or titles, just Diana’s ring on her hand.

Rather she gave an appeal, parent to parent, human to human, about her “huge shock” and her care for her “young family.”

And, finally, her kinship with anyone who lives in a vulnerable human body susceptible to a democratic illness like cancer, “you are not alone.”

Or, to paraphrase Richard Curtis:

“I’m just a girl, standing in front of a public, asking for some time to endure gruelling chemotherapy."

NOTE: Additional photos have been included in this article.

#King Charles III #Prince William #Prince of Wales #Princess of Wales #Catherine Princess of Wales #Catherine Middleton #Kate Middleton #British Royal Family #cancer #chemotherapy #preventative chemotherapy #social media #fake news #click farms #bots #trolls #disinformation #misinformation #viral #abdominal surgery #celebrity culture

[yubnubforhire]

I’ve seen a lot of people decry criticism of the rwrb movie as simply either homophobic or anti-cringe, with the statement ‘let queer people have our cringe rom-coms’ a common defense. This idea is flawed for many reasons, not least of which being that this movie is like… barely queer. Sure it’s about a queer couple, but that’s about where it stops.

First off there’s the blatant bi erasure, with no discussion of Nora’s sexuality, no June/Nora/Pez, the word bisexual only being used once or twice in the whole movie, etc. Second off is the complete lack of queer education or community: where is Alex learning about the gay lib movement and feeling like he understands something new, deep within himself? Where is Henry talking about his role amongst the erased queer figures of the past? Where are the crowds supporting both of them, in the US and the UK? (the scene at buckingham where you don’t even see the crowd felt so cheap) Where was Amy’s role as queer elder and protector? Where was Luna, and Alex’s realization as to why he looked up to him so much and why his betrayal hurt so bad? Where was Alex realizing he and Liam had actually ‘had a thing’ when they were younger, and reconnecting with him as someone who can fully be himself? Where was all the support when they got outed? Where the fuck was Catherine? Where were Bea and Catherine fighting for them during the confrontation at buckingham? Movie!firstprince feel so isolated and without community, which is just SO not the world CMQ created in the book.

More broadly, the movie just felt so shallow. I completely understand the need for adaptation and translation to a new medium, but so many of the things they changed either lower the stakes or remove them entirely. Bea is a non-character, with no depth or backstory. Nora only exists to tell Alex to fuck Henry. Pez gets all of one line in the entire movie. June does not exist, which should completely change things because Alex does not act like the only/eldest child of the POTUS. We never really see the emails and a lot of them are adapted to onscreen dialogue, so what exactly was leaked? Why are they called the Waterloo letters? No one watching the movie alone will know. Who leaked them? I figure the movie implies it was Miguel, but then why have Richards be a character at all? CMQ was making a point with the Richards/Luna story, and the movie having a new side character as the “villain” is just… so disappointing. We don’t see any of the scenes of Henry acknowledging how fucked up the monarchy is (other than a few throwaway jokes), the comparison to the Empire, any of the Bea storyline, or him trying to avoid military service and renounce his royal inheritance, so the one line towards the end when movie!Henry has an outburst about the monarchy being antiquated is just completely unearned and comes out of nowhere.

They kept the line where Oscar tells Alex that ‘sometimes you just have to jump and hope it’s not a cliff’ but it’s now completely devoid of the context— that line is about Oscar telling Alex he doesn’t regret getting together with Ellen, no matter how it ended. It doesn’t work the same if Oscar and Ellen are still happily married! (Justice for Leo also tbh)

In the confrontation at Buckingham, the king (don’t get me started on the things they changed to avoid comparisons to queen liz) still suggests to Henry that they should claim the leaks are deepfakes and deny it, but Alex already gave the live televised speech in the movie timeline! It’s out already! The entire scene with the king honestly just does not work if Alex has already made the speech. Also side note, there’s absolutely no way in turbohell that Alex would make that speech without talking to Henry first.

There’s so much more I could talk about, from more script shenanigans to the Pip of it all, but this is honestly already way too long. All I want to say now is that it’s obviously everyone’s prerogative to like a movie or not, and nothing anyone else says should change the way you personally feel about a piece of art. That does not mean, however, that any criticism of said art is incorrect or unwarranted. You can like something and still acknowledge its flaws. And no, cringiness is not this movie’s main flaw.

#red white and royal blue #rwrb movie #don’t like don’t read #seriously! #you’re entitled to love this movie and watch it dozens of times #but it’s not immune from criticism #I really wanted to love this movie #but there are just some books that do not and will never work as movies #everything was so rushed #on top of everything else #there was no space to breathe and fall for these characters #rwrb #red white and royal blue movie #rwrb spoilers

[meraki-yao]

RWRB Movie Analysis: Henry's Seclusion and Perception-Part 1

“They used to call me the prince of England’s hearts, but now it feels like everyone hates me.”

“Hey, they still love you.”

“They love the idea of me. And now they are faced with the reality.”

These three lines stuck with me for some reason.

The time gap between the email leaks and Alex flying to London is significantly longer in the movie. In the book it was almost immediate, I think in the span of one or two days? But in the movie, it was a week.

In that week, Alex wasn't shielded away from media or news about the matter, seeing as he watched Miguel's interview on his laptop. We already know that his parents are ultimately incredibly supportive of both his sexuality and his relationship with Henry. The White House Staff, his team, are implied to be supportive as well, since I don't think the press conference and his speech was solely his effort, plus Zahra said she's proud of him. Him getting outted before he was ready was a terrible thing that happened to him, but amidst the chao and pain, he had a support system, and he wasn't limited to seeing a single side of the public's reaction.

Henry though? Henry and Bea, the only other person who supports him (I do think Shaan does care about and support Henry, but he's also a palace employee under orders), had all of their electronics, their tools to access the internet, outside information taken away from them. He was stuck with a brother who was endlessly berating him, a grandfather who was giving him the cold shoulder, and a neglectful, absent mother. Bea loves him, but when the rest of the family is crushing down on him there's only so much one person can do. Even in meetings, even if the situation is entirely about him, about his sexuality and relationship, he's not involved in discussions. There's a heartbreaking shot during Alex’s speech, where although he’s in the centre of the frame, although he's at the head of the table, the other people aren't facing him, they’re talking among themselves, not talking to him. And Henry looks like he desperately wants to be part of the conversation, but he can't cut in, and you can see his eyes drop and him giving up. I don't know if anyone has had that experience, of wanting to join in a discussion but constantly getting cut out or ignored, but I can tell you, it feels fucking awful.

So in that horrible, horrible week, Henry was forced into an information cocoon, where all the information he received was how bad this thing that was forced onto him was for the crown's image, how awful of a person he is for being gay and pursuing a relationship with Alex/ letting a “mad infatuation” ruin the image they made him create, and how others in the palace are dealing with this for him in a way he doesn't agree or have a say in. That's all he could see, and when that’s all you can see, it starts to feel like the definitive truth.

That's why it feels like everyone hates him. Because within the space he was confined in, save for Bea and Shaan, everyone did act like they hated him. No Alex, No Pez, No. Oscar, no public opinion. He was forbidden from seeing any support. That's why he feels so lost.

So when finally, he gets to see a sea of rainbow outside Buckingham Palace, he's so overwhelmingly glad and determined, as he realizes that he's still the Prince of England's heart, he is still loved by his people, perhaps even more so now, because he's one of them. He's their rainbow prince.

He's finally confident, as he takes his love's hand and steps out onto the balcony, greeted by howling cheers and applause, an ocean of support that he didn't get to see before, but was always there.

Alex was right all along.

"They still love you."

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #red white & royal blue #rwrb movie #firstprince #alex claremont diaz #henry hanover stuart fox #henry fox mountchristen windsor #nicholas galitzine #taylor zakhar perez #rwrb thoughts #does this count as meta? Idk #Just something that won't leave me #I wanna hug him #and anyone who's going through something similar #hugsssss #meraki essay

[libraryofgage]

Scream AU

I've been possessed recently by a Steddie and Buckingham Scream AU, which means I haven't written much for my Tumblr fics hfjkds

Anyway, to make up for it, here's a little snippet of the Scream AU ;)

This snippet is clean, but the fic itself is, uh, very Dead Dove hfjsdk

Still, this snippet does include discussion of murder with vague descriptions and cursing

-------

“Have you heard about Tommy and Carol?”

Chrissy presses her lips together in a thin line, focusing more on the breeze passing over her than Jason’s friend, David, sitting a foot away from her. Jason’s arm is around her waist, encouraging her to lean against his shoulder for the twenty minute free period. 

On Jason’s right side, Steve Harrington is sitting with one leg on the bench and the other on the ground. It creates a space perfect for Robin Buckley to fit in. And she does. She slid into the spot like she owned it, and she’s now leaning back against Steve’s chest, a book in her hands that Steve reads over her shoulder. He never stops her when she turns the page, and Chrissy wonders if he’s actually even reading along.

Robin and Steve look good together. They fit as naturally as the sun that shines down on them, making Robin’s hair glint in a way Chrissy finds difficult to look away from.

“Yeah,” Jason says, shaking his head as he rubs circles on Chrissy’s waist with his thumb. “Fucking brutal, huh?”

“Dingus used to know them,” Robin says, her voice distracted as she turns the page. 

“Used to,” Steve stresses, frowning slightly as he looks away from the book. “Haven’t talked to them much lately. Jason’s the one who's been hanging out with them recently.”

“What happened?” Chrissy asks, getting the feeling she doesn’t actually want to know. Still, she hates the idea of being left out even more.

David grins at her and leans closer, ignoring the way Jason tugs Chrissy closer and glares. “They were both found dead this morning,” he says, his eyes wide and gleeful. “Tommy was floating in the pool, Carol hung from a tree, and both of them were gutted.”

“Gutted?” Chrissy asks.

“Ugh, spare us the details,” Robin says, putting the book down and looking at David with a bored expression. 

David doesn’t listen to her. “Yeah, gutted. Intestines and organs all falling out. Tommy’s were floating in the pool, though, made the water red and everything.”

A sick feeling stirs in Chrissy’s stomach, making her grimace as she looks away from David. She can’t help imagining the sight, nausea sweeping over her uncontrollably. “Dude!” Jason says, his loud voice making her wince. “Have some fucking class, yeah?”

“Sorry,” David says, raising his hands up and keeping his mouth shut for all of two seconds before saying, “I bet they were fucking.”

“What?” Steve asks, looking up at David like he’s stupid.

“You know,” David replies, “fucking. Everyone knows you shouldn’t fuck in a horror movie if you wanna live.”

“This isn’t a movie, dumbass,” Jason says, leaning even further into Chrissy’s space to flick David’s forehead.

“I’m just saying!” David says, rubbing at his forehead. “Everyone knows you shouldn’t have sex unless you wanna die. Look at Friday the 13th! Those counselors getting it on started the whole massacre.”

“So, what, some guy passed by Carol’s place, saw them fucking in the living room, and decided to get stab-happy?” Steve asks, his tone heavily implying David is, in fact, stupid beyond reason.

“Maybe he’s a horror movie aficionado.”

“Do you even know how to spell that word?” Steve asks.

“Do you?”

“How’d they even gut them?” Robin asks, her head falling back on Steve’s shoulder as she moves the subject along. Her neck stretches, and Chrissy focuses on following the line of it down to Robin’s shoulders to ride out the nausea. “Seems like overkill.”

“You cut them from the navel,” Steve says, his finger tapping against Robin’s knee as he looks across the courtyard. When Chrissy follows his gaze, she finds Eddie Munson sitting on a table, grinning at something one of his friends has said. “And I guess you’d go, like, side to side or something.”

Before he can say more, he grunts in pain, and Chrissy looks back to see Robin has roughly elbowed him in the ribs. “I said spare us the details, dingus,” she says, looking at him over her shoulder with a frown. Steve grins and raises his hands in surrender, shrugging once. Robin rolls her eyes and looks away. 

Her gaze lands on Chrissy and she gets up, brushing non-existent dust from her clothes before standing in front of Chrissy. “C’mon, let’s leave the boys to their gross talk,” she says, holding her hand out.

Without thinking, Chrissy accepts it, allowing herself to be pulled off the bench. Robin grins as she drops her hand, unaware that Chrissy is inexplicably missing the gentle warmth of her palm. “I’ll see you in class, Jason,” she says, waving before following Robin.

They’re half-way to the building when Robin says, “You should just tell them to shut up next time.”

Chrissy shrugs. “I don’t know. It was gross but easy to ignore,” she says. A few beats of silence pass before she adds, “You shouldn’t be so rough with Steve. He might think you don’t like him anymore.”

Robin falters, whipping her head around to look at Chrissy. “What?” she asks, her voice high and slightly strained.

It makes Chrissy think she’s stuck her nose where it doesn’t belong. She bites her bottom lip, watching as Robin’s eyes drop to the action before quickly rising again. “I just mean, well, he’s your boyfriend, right? You shouldn’t hurt him.”

Another beat of silence passes before Robin starts laughing so hard that she doubles over. She wheezes, holding her stomach and nearly losing strength in her legs before she calms down enough to stand up straight again. “We aren’t dating,” she says breathlessly, her cheeks flushed as she looks at Chrissy. “First of all, he’s way too high maintenance. Second of all, he’s only my platonic soulmate. We’re destined to be best friends. Nothing more. Third of all, I’m a gold star lesbian, Chrissy. I’m not exactly looking for dick.”

Oh. 

That’s…a lot to process. Chrissy blinks, letting everything run through her brain before she slowly nods. “Oh,” she says, her voice soft as she ducks through the door that Robin holds open for her. She waits just inside the school hall as Robin follows her in. “Sorry, I guess.”

“You’re okay with me being a lesbian?” Robin asks.

“Well, uh, are you gonna hit on me?” Chrissy asks back, making sure her tone is light and playful enough that Robin knows she’s joking.

Robin stares at her for a few seconds. “Only if you wanted me to,” she finally says, her tone surprisingly serious. Before Chrissy can respond, Robin smiles at her and easily changes the subject by saying, “Anyway, I’m kinda nervous after hearing the guys talk about Tommy and Carol.”

“Oh, yeah. It’s a little scary,” Chrissy says, her brain barely able to keep up with the change. “I’m not looking forward to being home alone tonight.”

“Want me to come over? I can bring a pizza and we can watch a movie,” Robin offers, her genuine smile telling Chrissy this isn’t a joke or some play on her comment about flirting.

It’s reassuring, actually. She wouldn’t want to invite Jason, since he’d look for reasons to have sex, and Robin is plenty nice. They’ve been hanging out more since she and Jason started dating. It was inevitable, really. Jason and Steve hang out because they’re on the basketball team together, so Robin and Chrissy would naturally cross paths.

“Yeah,” Chrissy says, her shoulders relaxing some as she smiles. “I’d appreciate that.”

“Totally,” Robin says, nodding once as her grin widens. “I’ll come over after work. I should be there around eight.”

Before Chrissy can say anything else, the bell rings, and she parts ways with Robin so she isn’t late to class.

#steddie fic #buckingham fic #steddie #buckingham #Scream AU #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #tbh tho it's really the steddie parts that are particularly dead dove so far #i watched scream and my brain chemistry was completely rewired #i'm problematic now #my writing

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

One more thing I forgot to post re: Eugenie vs the Sussexes.

During the Platinum Jubilee when the Sussexes were doing the most to try to get pictures with the other royals or even to get them to Frogmore for LilD’s birthday, Eugenie would have been their natural and easy target ally.

Instead the Sussexes made a very public play for the Philips/ Tindalls. All the cousins were in the same room at Horse Guards, but the Sussexes were photographed variously with the junior Philips/ Tindalls and The Duke of Kent. The few Long lens pics into the room showed that no one was talking to Meghan or Harold except for one pic of Harold with Kent.

Then the Sussexes leave Horse Guards presumably to return to Frogmore, and miss the flypast. Eugenie posts lots of pics from the flypast which show that Zara, Beatrice are with her on a rooftop at SJP.

Later that afternoon/ early evening Zara, Mike, Beatrice, Edo, Jack and Eugenie are papped coming out of a London restaurant following group lunch, which Mike later revealed involved all the royal cousins+ spouses who weren’t on the balcony. Only the Sussexes don’t attend because they’d gone back to Frogmore. 

https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-10896165/Mike-Tindall-reveals-outstanding-cousins-lunch-Harry-Meghan-didnt-attend.html

The next day the Sussexes put out PR about a birthday party for LilD which they claim was attended by the Philips/ Tindalls and their children, but the two families were very visibly at the races most of that day and the distance between locations to attend both events would have been impossible especially as the Philips/ Tindall families had booked London hotels for Jubilee weekend and centred all their activities in/ around London give or take afew miles outside it. 

***********

I do remember these well. 

I don’t think Harry and Meghan not being in Eugenie’s Trooping video (remember how pissed everyone got at her because Wolfie’s face was visible, when Beatrice and Edo hadn’t been showing his face? ah, good times) is because of the falling out. I think it was just the logistics the Queen/Charles had put in place for handling the Sussexes. It was implied that Harry and Meghan were only invited to the official ceremonial events, and once something ended, they were herded back to their car and sent home to FrogCott to wait for tomorrow’s event. So what happened at the service of thanksgiving (where they left in a car that took them to FrogCott while everyone else bussed over to the guildhall for the reception) is what happened after Trooping: everyone else was carriaged/bussed back to Buckingham while the Sussexes were sent home and then all the cousins decided to go out for lunch.

Supposedly that’s why they left early  - they were upset by how closely they were being controlled by palace handlers regarding the events, but knew they couldn’t complain (publicly at least) because they needed the optics of being with Lili for her first birthday so they could use the public spotlight to pressure the BRF into giving them the Lilibet Meets Lilibet photo.

Also it has been alleged that Anne was livid the Sussexes got the photo ops they did with her grandchildren. I have also heard that Autumn and Zara were upset too, which is allegedly why they bailed on the birthday party after promising to go (I’m not sure I believe this one because Zara absolutely would’ve already had plans with her family for the weekend). I think what really happened with the birthday party is Harry invited them, they said “we’ll let you know,” which the Sussexes interpreted as “yes” and thus all the PR.

#ask #brf #platinum jubilee

[bit-dodgy-innit]

The Magic Touch

Summary: Jake likes to take care of his wife who takes such good care of their newborn daughter. Set in THE SHAPE OF YOU verse 

Pairing: Jake x afab!Reader, with some minor Steven x afab!Reader and implied Marc x afab!Reader. Reader is married to the system and all three alters are no longer working for Khonshu

Rating: Tré Explicit, Minors DNI!

Word Count: 2.8k 

TW/CW: Heavy breast and nipple play, lactation kink, p in v sex, fingering, dirty talk, a little mutual masturbation, softdom!Jake, use of the term Papi, a smidge of spanking, mirror sex/exhibitionism between alters (?), cumshot, mentions of smoking and light bickering between a married couple. Also Reader & Jake speak a decent amount of Spanish/Spanglish with each other, translations for everything will be at the bottom of the fic!

A/N:...this fic could also be titled “A Return to Filth”. Honestly y’all some of the stuff in here surprised ME 😳 That being said, THANK SO EFFING MUCH to everyone who asked to be tagged in this and the just constant, unexpected stream of support and praise I’ve received since I posed the Shape of You!! 

“Look who’s up late,” Jake remarked, surprised to see you sitting on the couch with your infant daughter in your arms. 

“Someone does not want to sleep tonight,” you replied wearily. The sight of your husband was a relief for your tired eyes. You had barely gotten in a nap today and Nyla had been giving you trouble since sunrise. “How was the gig?”

“Bueno,” he shrugged, taking off his gloves and flat cap. “You know how those rich, fancy fucks are.”

An ambassador and his wife had hired Jake’s company to chauffeur them to and from a state dinner at Buckingham Palace that evening, the reason why he was now just coming in at 2:36 in the morning. 

As ghastly as the aristocrats were, they had the potential to be big clients. Like a down payment on a bigger place clients, so he’d insisted on doing the job himself, instead of sending a driver from his roster. 

Ever since Nyla was born, Jake had taken on more of a managerial role in his limo company, relying on the network of employees he’d built after he and his alters split ways with Khonshu once and for all. But the ambassador was too valuable a client to lose on the first job, and Jake had always believed “if you want something done right, do it yourself.”

“Mmmm, good,” you replied. “Let’s hope they use you again.”

“Si mami,” Jake agreed. 

Nyla began fussing, and Jake wasted no time crossing over to where you and her were curled on the couch. You grimaced, “She’s been like this all day, Jake.” 

“Princesa,¿por qué le estás haciendo pasar un mal rato a tu madre?” he scooped your daughter out of your arms and looked at the infant as if she could respond. “Hm?”

“You’ll just make her more fussy,” you told him, your tone tinged with irritation.

“No, no lo haré,” he argued, “porque yo tengo el toque mágico con ella.”

You couldn't help but roll your eyes. Oh, how times had changed. In the past, if Jake had come home late and murmured in Spanish to you about having “the magic touch”, you both would be up until sunrise fucking. Now you feared it would just make your overtired baby more grumpy. 

Jake paced around the flat, cooing to Nyla in Spanish, and lo and behold, he did get her to settle down. Perhaps he did have el toque mágico after all. He cocked his head toward Nyla’s nursery, silently communicating that he’d put her in her crib. You nodded, beginning to doze off yourself. 

Jake had been uneasy at first around his newborn. It made sense, so much of his existence had been blood and violence, and Nyla was the most precious, fragile being he’d ever known. Yet the nerves melted into his trademark, indefatigable confidence soon enough, you didn’t even need to have a pep talk with him like you did with Marc for Jake to come around. Nyla was his princesa, and you had no doubt that he’d do anything for his little girl just like her other two dads. Although, you guessed Jake’s “anything” was a lot more gruesome than most. 

Your husband tiptoed out of the nursery back to where you had slumped into the couch. 

“Gracias,” you thanked him, your eyes weighted with exhaustion. He padded over to you. “I forgot how good you looked in uniform.”

Personally, Jake hated the monkey suit high-profile clients required him to wear – that had been one of the perks of working for Khonshu, at least the old bird let him wear street clothes on the job – but if you were into it, he’d make the most of it. “¿Te gusta?” 

“Mmmm, si,” you whispered just before your lips met. Jake kissed you gently, as if he was trying to absorb your tiredness and stress. 

“How can Papi make you feel better?” he murmured into the skin of your neck. “Mi esposita cuida tan bien de nuestro bebé, quiero cuidarla bien.”

“Jake,” you sighed as he dropped his kisses to your clavicle, just above where you both knew you wanted his mouth. 

“You want Papi to suck on your tetas?” he asked, already knowing the answer. “Play with ‘em just how you like it?”

You assented with a whine and emphatic nod of your head. Jake reconnected your lips while you unhooked the cups of your nursing bra, your shirt followed moments later. 

Jake’s eyes darkened in the low lamplight of your living room, his dilated pupils turning his irises black and sending a shiver down your spine. He pressed kisses into the tops of each of your full breasts, then drew a line in the valley of your tits with the tip of his nose. His ministrations made your nipples harden. 

“Mmm, nice and ready for me,” he laughed lowly before bringing his mouth to one of your peaks. 

It had been an hour or so since you’d fed Nyla, so it took a few pulls of Jake’s mouth before any liquid landed on his tongue. Even so, his warm, wet touch felt wonderful around your sensitive bud. A little cry of delight escaped you when your milk began to flow, the vibrations of your husband’s satisfied groan only amplifying your pleasure. 

Jake’s hand snaked its way to your other tit. He paused his worship to wet his thumb, then brought the digit to your unoccupied breast and began tracing the circumference of your nipple. Soon you were leaking from that teat as well, an undeniable slickness pooling between your folds while Jake stimulated you exactly how you craved. 

“Jake,” you moaned, twining your fingers into his hair then tugging to angle his head up and get his attention. “Bed.”

Another deep groan resonated from your husband’s chest. “You tired?”

Well, yes, you’d been tired since Nyla took her first breath. Before that actually, maybe month six of your pregnancy when your bump really started to grow? Tired was neither here nor there. You wanted to be taken care of. “Want Papi’s cock.”

Jake flashed you a shark-like grin. “Vamos,” he said before throwing you over his shoulder. 

“Jake!!” you reprimanded him in the harshest whisper you could make without waking Nyla. 

Your husband ignored you, opting to lay you out on the mattress and pull off your incredibly sexy yoga pants. Before you could fidget and try to cover your postpartum body, Jake descended on you. 

“I think this other titty needs some love while I get you ready for Papi’s cock, nena,” he murmured before he dove back into your chest. 

Your breath hitched at the return of his lips on your boob. He didn’t hold back, vigorously suckling at your peak, flooding his mouth with your milk. Jake being so unashamedly into this made you feel better about this unlikely kink of yours. Maybe you and Steven weren’t complete freaks. 

The mix of suction and relief was the most intoxicating combination while Jake lapped at your nipple, alternating his attention between tugs with his lips and drawing stripes with flicks of his tongue. 

Meanwhile, he tucked a hand between your legs and began toying with your pussy. He ran his index finger between your folds to part them, then quickly transitioned to using the digits to draw tights circles into your clit. You mewled and Jake pulled off your breast to swallow your noises with his mouth. You two were having too much fun to be interrupted by Nyla. 

“Silencio, cariño,” he punctuated his reminder by sliding a finger into your cunt. 

“Nnngh,” you grunted, biting your lip to keep the sound from spilling out, “Easy for you to say.” 

He winked at you, a gesture that should’ve been infuriating but instead just made you wetter. Jake worked another digit into your pussy while he returned to your bosom, latching onto a peak once again and greedily drinking down everything you had to offer. 

“¿Estas lista?” he asked you once his fingers were gliding in and out of your core smoothly. 

“Please Papi,” you gasped. Jake stood back up to shed his clothes. You couldn’t help that your own hand snuck down to rub your clit while you watched him undress, he’d worked you up so much. 

The last item of clothing to be discarded were Jake’s boxers. He shucked them off and then stood proudly before you, his hands resting on his wide hips, unabashedly displaying his leaking erection. 

“Look what you do to me, Señora Lockley,” he rasped, gripping and pumping himself a few times at the sight of you touching yourself. 

“Tan grande, amor,” you purred. 

He pounced on you at your words, maneuvering you onto your hands and knees. The position shouldn’t have come as much of a shock, it was Jake’s favorite, but you hadn’t been able to do it since early in your second trimester. An extra spark of desire zinged through you at the thought of returning to it. 

Your husband guided his cock inside of you, taking it mercifully slowly, since he too knew how long it’d been since he’d been able to fuck you from behind. This wasn’t the first time you’d had penetrative sex since having Nyla, but the initial tenderness was still necessary in your postpartum state. The gentle start made you love Jake even more since he was the king of the rough fuck, which normally, you thoroughly enjoyed. 

Once he’d bottomed out and checked on you again, Jake began moving. You’d forgotten how full your husband’s thick dick felt like this. The swaying of your dribbling tits just added another delicious layer of dirtiness to your lovemaking. 

Jake knew he could pick up the pace of his thrusts when he felt you pushing back onto his cock. He angled you juuuust so and then unleashed the full force of his hips, fucking you so hard you were nearly knocked down onto your elbows. 

You pussy tightened around the hot, hard rod inside of you and keened, “Fuuuuck, Jake, that’s so good.” 

“Mmmm yeah,” Jake groaned. “Always take care of you, gonna fuck all the stress out of you.” 

You responded with a yip when your husband took hold of both of your hips to piston his cock into your tight channel even more relentlessly. 

“Ooooh yeah,” Jake continued to ramble in his sex-addled state, “such a pretty picture you’re making for me. I get to see your big, milky titties swing while you make these cheeks clap for me. Joder, sí, mami.”

Your husband’s filthy words made your cheeks burn and bite your lip as you continued to work your cunt back on his cock. He elicited a squeak from you when he smacked his hand across one of your ass cheeks, enjoying the way your flesh jiggled after he spanked you. 

“Steven thinks you look so sexy right now, isn’t that nice?” Jake remarked casually as if he was commenting on the weather and not railing you into next Tuesday. 

Your eyes snapped open, and you craned your neck from where it had been hanging between your shoulders. All of your attention had been consumed by Jake playing your body like a violin that you hadn’t noticed he’d positioned you in front of the mirror in your bedroom, but of course he did.

“Th-thank you, huh-honey,” you stuttered out, hoping Steven could hear while Jake continued to pound into you. 

The two of you made a thoroughly debauched scene. Your hair was mussed, your lips kiss-swollen and your full, engorged breasts moved in time with each drive of Jake’s length into your sopping cunt. 

You could just make out a little pearl of liquid on the tip of your left nipple, both of your puffy peaks still glistening from Jake’s mouth and your milk. Your reflection made you blush more deeply, and you could only imagine that Steven was absolutely losing his shit over the pornographic tableau you and his alter made. You’d have to let Steven try fucking you like this, if you made it out of this round of sex with Jake alive, that was. 

Jake withdrew his cock for a moment and next thing you knew, you were on your back again. He swiftly re-entered you, the hammering of his hips so strong it drove you back a few centimeters towards the pillows. Locking your legs around his torso, he dropped onto his forearms and brought his lips to your ear to entreat you, “Come on, let Papi have his leche dulce.” 

You complied with a whimper and a clench of your core, your hands coming to cup your tits and squeezing them so milk sprayed from your nipples into Jake’s open, eager mouth. A splash missed his tongue, landing on the corner where your husband’s lips met instead. His tongue quickly darted it out to lick it up and you almost came from the sight alone. 

You threw your head back into the blankets, unable to muffle your moans as Jake drove into you. 

“Does mamacita want to come?” he asked huskily. Your answer came in a strangled whine. 

He complied, replacing his cock with two of his fingers again and recaptured a nipple in your mouth. He stroked your walls, finding your g-spot with practiced ease while his thumb pressed into your clit. Your orgasm seized you in an eruption of pleasure, and thankfully you still had the wherewithal to grab a pillow and smash it into your face to muffle your cries of ecstasy as your husband worked through your blinding, white-hot release.

When your climax had crested and you managed to discard the pillow, you were greeted with the sight of Jake straddling your waist frantically jerking his cock over your tits. 

“Ohhh my, shit,” you panted, trying to urge him along, “unnngh, come for me, Papi.” 

Your plea pushed your husband over the edge, spurting his seed onto your tits barely a moment later. He peaked with a choked off gasp, needing to brace a hand on the bed frame so he didn’t collapse on top of you. 

The haze of lust slowly that had blanketed your mind slowly began to evaporate, and you looked down at the cooling cum splattered across your breasts. You glanced at Jake, who’d flopped onto the mattress next to you. “You’re nasty.”

“You love it,” he retorted without opening his eyes.  

“Hmm, I do,” you admitted. “Pero ahora tu esposita necesita una toalla.”

Jake grunted. His legs hadn’t steadied after coming his brains out just yet. 

“Rápido, por favor.” 

“Alright, alright,” Jake pushed himself upright and lumbered to the en-suite. “I worked all night, bien? Go easy on me.”

And you’d been with your baby all day. As much as you appreciated your husband providing for your family, you couldn’t muster the sympathy he’d hoped for. “Right, because none of that time was spent shooting the shit and smoking with the other drivers.”

“I quit,” he called from the loo. 

“I could taste it on you,” you shot back as he walked back into the bedroom. “Be happy I’m tired and you made me come too hard to properly give you shit about it.” 

“Mmm, you did come so hard for me nena, didn’t you?” Jake rasped, passing you a damp towel and climbing back on the bed. “Made me spurt all over your tetas.” 

Just him saying it caused a little aftershock of arousal to ripple through you. “Between you and Steven I have to make sure there's enough milk left for the baby.” 

Jake’s expression turned serious. “Oye, they were our titties first. We’re letting Nyla borrow them.” 

Before you could giggle like you wanted to, he kissed you again, licking into your mouth to prove something. “I had two drags of another driver’s cig. It was a social thing, a networking thing. I told you I’d quit when you got pregnant.”

“Good. Because A, it’s bad for you, and B, I get worried about Nyla and all the–”

“Yo sé, yo sé,” he tried to quell your rising concern. “It was stupid of me to do.”

You should’ve pressed him harder on it, but you were helpless to the way he kissed the top of your head and held you in his arms. Maybe times hadn’t changed as much as you thought, you were still letting Jake off the hook after a particularly toe-curling orgasm and whispered bilingual assurances. Which jogged your memory…

“How did you get her to go down, by the way?” you asked, the two of you slipping between the sheets. “What, did you use some residual Egyptian god magic?”

Jake laughed, an undignified snort. “No magic…aparte de mi toque mágico. Besides we don’t need Khonshu or any of them, we have each other, si?”   

“Si,” you concurred, snuggling into him. Jake may have a big mouth along with his toque mágico, but at least he knew the right thing to say most of the time and how to use those hands of his. 

Read the follow up fic: DROPPING IN

A/N: *clenched teeth emoji* hope everyone enjoyed! I’ll make the next fic softer and fluffier, I promise 🥴 Though I kind of adore the dynamic that emerged between the reader and Jake, they love each other deeply but also give each other shit in the same breath. 

Again, thank you thank you THANK YOU for all the encouragement and engagement with this series, my inbox is always open if you have request or thots! 

Taglist: @twwcs @rmoonstoner​ , @hot-mess-express1​ , @murdickdocked, @toracainz​ @saahmi​​, @unspokenmoon​​, @winterbiipp​ @avatarofseshat​​ @ilikeoldermenhelp , @losers-club6​​, @lovely-cryptid​ ​, @stormkobra-5​ @johnny-simpfinger​

Translations:

Bueno - Good

Si mami - Yes mommy

Princesa, ¿por qué le estás haciendo pasar un mal rato a tu madre? - Princess, why are you giving your mother a hard time? 

No, no lo haré...porque yo tengo el toque mágico con ella - No, I will not...because I have the magic touch with her

Gracias - Thank you

Te gusta - You like it? 

Mi esposita cuida tan bien de nuestro bebé, quiero cuidarla bien - My little wife takes such good care of our baby, I want to take good care of her. 

tetas - tits 

Vamos - Let’s go

nena - baby/babe  

Silencio, cariño - Quiet, honey 

¿Estas lista? - Are you ready?

Tan grande, amor - so big, love 

Joder, sí, mami - Fuck yeah, mommy 

leche dulce - sweet milk 

Pero ahora tu esposita necesita una toalla - But now your little wife needs a towel. 

Rápido por favor - Quickly please 

Bien - Okay

Oye - Here 

Yo sé - I know 

aparte de mi toque mágico - other than my magic touch 

#moon knight #moon knight smut #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fanfiction #jake lockley #jake lockley x female!reader #jake lockely smut #jake lockely x female reader #jake lockley fanfiction #steven grant #steven grant smut #steven grant x reader #steven grant x female reader #steven grant fanfiction #moon knight x reader #jake lockley x you #oscar isaac #oscar isaac smut #oscar isaac fanfiction #oscar isaac fanfic #Oscar Isaac thirst hours #jake lockley speaking spanish

[formosusiniquis]

the bells, the joy (together in darkness)

Robin Buckley & Steve Harringto WC: 11963 | T | Tags/Themes: hivemind, Post S3, Scoops Troop Friendship, Nonbinary Steve and Robin, Blink and you miss it Steddie and Buckingham pre-slash AKA It's the Stobin Hivemind fic y'all! thank you very very very much to @spectrum-spectre for beta-ing this for me!!

Steve has never done LSD before. Which is the kind of statement his father would call ‘qualifying’ and ‘implies other kinds of wrongdoing, Stephan.’ Like the time he’d said he hadn’t smoked anything other than cigarettes that weekend. Apparently the ‘that weekend’ was a qualifier that got his very small pot stash flushed, and forced him into a second transaction with Eddie Munson in as many weeks.

Yeah okay maybe there were worse things, as far as punishments go.

Qualifying or not though, Steve has never done LSD. Not after the weekend he spent reading the supposedly true diary of a supposedly real teen that had been left on his bed. Like mother, like son, his father had sneered when he'd caught Steve curled up with it, like the whole plan to keep him from becoming pot-addled and destined for the gutter, or whatever, hadn’t relied on his gossipy nature.

It was mostly stupid, the book, but Steve figured it didn’t hurt to stick to weed. The stuff about that he knew for sure was totally fake.

Except now, he wishes he maybe knew a little bit more about what LSD was supposed to feel like. So he knows how to portion out blame for his current state. It’s currently 50% Upside-Down-Shit and 40% Russian-LSD-Shit and 10% Concussion-Shit, but if he’s being fair he’s blamed the Upside Down for about half of everything that’s gone wrong in his life since 1983. He’s willing to acknowledge that maybe the blame breakdown should be readjusted for this one.

“Hey Robin?” Trauma changes people, makes you want to stay close to the people who are changed the same way you are. Robin had shown up at Steve’s house the Monday after everything, trumpet case and duffle bag in hand. Apparently, she had walked from the school where she was supposed to be catching the bus to Band Camp, like she does every year. Apparently, when you undergo traumas heretofore unexperienced by any teen ever, Russian torture and flesh monsters, it’s okay to skip Summer Intensive to move in with your new best friend without telling your parents. Apparently, if you’re the kid that the Band Person, Director, wants to keep happy because in addition to the billion and seven languages you can play any instrument with a mouthpiece -- except trombone, slide positions, Steve had pretended he knew what that meant -- then you can just leave school to deal with your ‘mall fire smoke inhalation’ at your ‘aunt’s house’ instead. Apparently this is fine and Steve doesn’t need to worry about any angry former hippies beating down his dore because ‘what they don’t know won’t hurt them.’

So he can call out for Robin, without raising his voice because he knows she’s there. Somewhere in the house, the weight of it changed now that someone else is in it with him. He can call out even though he’s pretty sure she’s holed up in his Mom’s library on the ground floor, because he can feel her in the back of his brain and he knows she’ll hear him.

Drifting in an unfocused middle distance, he can imagine Robin. Curled up, she knows she’s been called for but isn’t in any hurry to comply, Steve will wait. He's fine with waiting, at least for the five minutes it will take for her to finish her chapter. He can see her, slotting her bookmark in place and sitting up straight for the first time in hours. She stretches, uncurls from the window seat that Steve also favors, gently sets the book down before letting a foot dangle and brush the floor to actually stand. And she leaves the library. She starts to feel closer, her presence looming stronger in his brain and Steve aware of himself in his own body. Then he hears her feet on the stairs.

“What is it, Dingus, did you know your Mom has a whole collection of French books? I’m in the middle of a bunch of lesbian short stories.”

“Yeah, she speaks it, not sure why.” He answers absently, “Have you ever done LSD?”

“I’ve had half a pot brownie and gotten way too high before.”

That’s not really the same thing, Steve thinks.

“I know it’s not really the same thing, Dingus, I was using it as a framework.” She flops facedown on the bed beside him, wiggling into what he’s started thinking of as her side. A lucky coincidence that she prefers to be tucked in on the side closest to the wall. Probably because she’s never seen anything burst out of one.

“Okay don’t think that, cause now I’m never going to be able to sleep again, I don’t think you’ve got enough space for us to pull your bed into the center of your room.”

He can see the way she imagines it. His bed, an island in the center of the room floating in a sea of plaid. Something about it is even more unnerving than if it stayed up against the wall.

“Not a good look.” He doubts anything will come from the walls again anyway, the Upside Down has proven to be surprisingly adaptive; it doesn't seem to attack in the same way twice. It makes it harder to be prepared, but he’s less worried about not being able to protect Robin in the middle of the night.

“Savior complex. Your mom has psychology books down there too. What does she even do?”

“Reads mostly. Do you think there’s anything down there about LSD?” He doesn’t think this is normal.

“Nice leap, Steve, I don’t think there are many drugs that link your brain with your coworker.” She says coworker, but he feels friend. Even that concept isn’t enough to describe the depth of warmth and affection that he feels wash over him as she thinks.

He lets the silence hang for a second, thinking but not sure what yet. His thoughts are slower to arrive and more jumbled in these early days post-concussion. His right hand curls, his fingers flex. First and third finger tap, then one and two, then none, one and two, and two, and none.

Robin’s knee jostles the bed as her leg bounces just a little.

“I think something else happened to us.”

“Wondered how long I’d have to tap your fingers for you before you got there with me.”

Read the rest on AO3

#platonic stobin #my fic #steve and robin #scoops troop #scoops troop friendship #untitled stobin hivemind fic #now has a title #which is a reference to a song for lya which i don't really recommend but whatever #nonbinary steve harrington #nonbinary robin buckley #autistic robin buckley #neurodivergent steve harrington #the author gives steve their own quirks and lets the audience diagnose as they will #enjoy!!! its been a nine month labor of love please like it!!

[nburkhardt]

Chrissy Cunningham, coming back to the music industry. First single in three years!

Chrissy Cunningham was once a Disney star, grew up in the spot light and was America’s sweetheart. Stepped away from the acting world to become a singer, with her fan base following along with her; became a pop star over night with her first single, Love Story. Eventually the actress turned singer, she took a massive break from both to quietly start up a fashion line.

Her success is known world wide and has recently stepped back in Hollywood with a short series on Hulu. Now it seems after that success, she’s taking her comeback further with her new single; Single Soon.

We’re all ready to hear the new music and see what else Cunningham has up her sleeve!

“The world seems to be ready for you, Sweets.” Eddie looks up from his phone to smile at a nervously pacing Chrissy, “Why the pacing?”

Chrissy groans and falls helplessly against the couch, covering her face and says something that Eddie can’t hear. She groans again, lifting a hand and repeats, “I’m afraid of what Jason’s gonna think”

“Carver? You’re asshole of an ex? That guy?”

She groans and sits up, “I’ve only ever dated one guy named Jason, Eddie! You know this”

He snorts, “yeah well, what about him?”

Chrissy glares at him and Eddie raises his hands in surrender, a finger wiggle gets her glare to drop. His smile drops as her face falls and he sets his phone down to sit next to her, “Chrissy, babe, what’s the actual problem? The song is amazing, your show is a success and Robin is coming over with Stevie”

“I’m afraid Jason will react, Eds. He is sweet but he can be a lot-“

“Yeah I know, I got the texts to remember that he has a controlling side”

She groans again, “we’ve been broken up for months and now I’m coming out with this song, he could try something” she’s biting her lip and twisting her shirt in her hands, “Just, I don’t want backlash”

Eddie softens and pulls her against his side, kissing her temple and rubbing her arm, “you won’t, not from the ones who know you. You have me, the rest of our friends and your fans? Babe, they’ll always be supportive of you! They’ll never take his side if he does come out with bullshit about you.”

“I guess” she mumbles against him, “Are you absolutely sure Robin will be here?”

Eddie’s happy that she’s hiding against his side, because she doesn’t see the shit-eating grin he has, “Stevie made absolutely sure that she’ll be there, he even promised to drag her away from her studio if he has too.”

“He doesn’t have to do that! I know she has a deadline for-“

He makes a ‘tsk’ sound while shaking his head, “Chrissy, her deadline isn’t as soon as you think. Stevie told me it’s actually in October, three months away. Your crush just has anxiety over her album, she can take a day to relax and maybe this will finally be the chance you get!”

She doesn’t say anything, Eddie has a good point but still, Chrissy is worried but she won’t say it again.

Eddie squeezes her once before hopping up and holding his hand out for her, she grabs it and is immediately up and twirled around before being hugged.

“Watch, this single will be a huge success. Carver can cry his heart out, you’ll be making records and get the girl you like so much. Trust me on this, Chrissy Cakes”

She squeezes her arms around him and nods, lost with words right now. Knowing her best friend, he’ll keep that promise and keep reminding her of it to even out her anxiety on it.

(Eddie’s right of course, the song is a huge success. At the launch party, she ends the night on stage with Robin Buckley, spinning her around and kissing her cheek. The media go wild with it, but it doesn’t bother Chrissy like she thought she would. Instead, she spends weeks laughing at Jason’s poor attempts to ruin her with Robin next to her)

I… don’t know where this came from other than I heard Selena Gomez’s new song ‘Single Soon’ and then I just started typing hahaha.

Information to know: everyone is famous in some way in this. Eddie’s got Corroded Coffin, Chrissy is basically Selena Gomez (child star/singer/fashion designer) Robin’s an indie singer and Steve’s a baseball player. The Party members are whatever you can think of it, I’d like to think some of them are YouTubers, singers & actors. Jason is also unfortunately famous too, he’s an actor. Steve and Eddie are together in this. They’ve been playing matchmaker with their best friends/platonic soulmates.

I could probably write more but I probably won’t lol so if anyone wants, you can take this and add too it or write your own version!

Tag list:

@spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @gregre369 @zerokrox-blog @bookworm0690 @flustratedcas @carlprocastinator1000 @marvelmwah @solliesolesito @navnae @i-less-than-three-you @grimmfitzz @strangersteddierthings

#modern day au #chrissy cunningham #Eddie Munson #platonic hellcheer #implied buckingham #implied steddie #stranger things #nburkhardt writes #chrissy Cunningham fic #Jason carver is an asshole #famous au #singer chrissy #idk what else to tag tbh

[maxineholtzmann]

project easy-bake - complete on ao3

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, We're ignoring all of Season Four, It never happened, Chrissy Cunningham Lives, Chrissy Cunningham & Eddie Munson Friendship, Chrissy Cunningham Has a Crush on Robin Buckley, Robin Buckley Has a Crush on Chrissy Cunningham, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Eddie Munson, Getting Together, First Kiss, Eventual background buckingham is implied, Minor Maxine "Max" Mayfield/Lucas Sinclair, Steve Harrington & Maxine "Max" Mayfield Have a Sibling Relationship, Steve Harrington & Dustin Henderson Friendship, Platonic Soulmates Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Maxine "Max" Mayfield & Eddie Munson Friendship, This whole thing is a romcom, Baking, Hijinks & Shenanigans, No beta we die like Barb

Word Count: 16,911 Chapters: 2/2

Written for @thefreakandthehair's Lex's Spicy Six Spring Fanworks Challenge 2023!

Chapter One Snippet:

“Get your ass off the counter, that’s not sanitary,” Max lightly shoved Eddie's legs, getting flour on his black jeans.

“If you think anything in this kitchen is sanitary , Red, you’d be incorrect. Stop changing the subject–what is all of this for? And why on god’s green Earth do you not want Harrington to know about it?” Eddie scooted closer as Max carefully measured out the second cup of flour.

She paused, considering. “If I tell you, you have to promise not to tell anyone.”

Eddie perked up, of course , he should have thought of this earlier. “Oh, so that’s it. You have a crush on Harrington. I mean, he’s a bit old for you, but I can see the appeal–”

“What? No! Ew! He’s like my weird hybrid brother-mom.” Max looked at him like he had five heads. “It’s his birthday next Tuesday and I’m trying to bake him a cake but every time I try it turns out disgusting. Sunday it was burnt and yesterday it was raw in the middle! He does a lot for us and I know no one else even knows when his birthday even is and I wanted to do something…nice, for once. If you tell anyone I said that I’ll kill you.”

read the rest on ao3

#stranger things #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #max mayfield #rated t #fluff #repost #completed fic

[steddieunderdogfics]

cannot more highly recommend the fic "project easy-bake" by maxineholtzmann on ao3! its such a fun and cute little spring fic that deserves so much more love!

Project Easy-Bake by maxineholtzmann

@maxineholtzmann

Rating: Teens & Up

16,911 words, 2/2 chapters

Archive Warning: No Warnings

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, We're ignoring all of Season Four, It never happened, Chrissy Cunningham Lives, Chrissy Cunningham & Eddie Munson Friendship, Chrissy Cunningham Has a Crush on Robin Buckley, Robin Buckley Has a Crush on Chrissy Cunningham, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Eddie Munson, Getting Together, First Kiss, Eventual background buckingham is implied, Minor Maxine "Max" Mayfield/Lucas Sinclair, Steve Harrington & Maxine "Max" Mayfield Have a Sibling Relationship, Steve Harrington & Dustin Henderson Friendship, Platonic Soulmates Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Maxine "Max" Mayfield & Eddie Munson Friendship, This whole thing is a romcom, Baking, Hijinks & Shenanigans, No beta we die like Barb

Summary:

Max Mayfield was up to something. She’d popped over on Sunday to ask for flour. Then again on Tuesday. Now it was Wednesday and here she was on Eddie’s front porch again. “I need to borrow 2 cups of flour,” she said flatly, holding the same red plastic mixing bowl she’d been holding the last two times. “Wow, no ‘Hi Eddie, you’re such a great neighbour, how are you doing’? This is the third time this week you’ve asked for flour. What the hell are you baking and why are you baking it in such high quantities?” Eddie crossed his arms, leaning on the door frame of his trailer. Or: 5 times Max & Eddie try to bake a cake for Steve and 1 time there is no baking at all (look this really spiralled out of hand and my original 5+1 didn't fit anymore)

Thanks for the rec!

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

#steddie fic recs #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #stranger things #canon divergent #baking #teens and up #fluff

[matthew-gray-gublers-babygirl]

Woman taken by the wind - Roger Taylor x Fem!reader

Summary: You've taken a liking to a new band and your boyfriend cant help but tease you about your recent infatuation. 

Warnings: no swearing, implied sex, mention of oral sex, minor stress, mainly just fluff

Word count: 1.6k

     Alone in your apartment, you skip over to the turntable set up in the living room and turn up the volume to fifteen. The recently released sound of ‘Rhiannon’ by Fleetwood Mac blared through your flat. You weren't a fan of the earlier stuff from the band, but with the newest addition of Stevie Nicks and Lindsay Buckingham to the group really brought a new interesting vocal and guitar sound, you couldn’t get enough of it. You heard the track that was playing from the speakers on the radio, and you demanded that Roger pull over the car so you could go get a copy of the album. 

     Your boyfriend, Roger, wasn't as much of a ‘Fleetwood Mac super fan’ as he so lovingly calls you. He preferred the heavier tracks of Jimi Hendrix, while still liking some of the softer stuff from Dylan and such. He didn’t mind when you played them, though.

     You were alone at the moment. Roger was off in the studio with the boys. He suggested you stay home this day so you don't get caught in the middle of their idiotic arguments over if the harmony should be sung with an ‘ah’ sound or an ‘oh’ sound. You had some work to do in the apartment that day, so you were fine with staying home. Your recent purchase was great background noise for your daily chores. 

     You take a moment to walk over to the turntable again and flip over the record to side B before you continue on with washing the dishes. Swaying your hips to the beat of the song, you sang along to lyrics you were able to figure out. You had most of them memorized after listening to the album a couple of times.

     Roger had always loved your dancing. You felt dorky and rarely danced in front of others, but Roger was able to bring that side of you to light. You felt free around him, even if you still felt embarrassed to dance around him.

     You dry off the dishes and put them into the cabinet. That was another chore knocked off your list. You were surprisingly productive this afternoon. You often procrastinated by saying you'll do it later or you get too invested in whatever TV show you're watching. 

     You boogie(Rogers words) out of the kitchen and bend over the dining room table, reaching for the little notepad and checking off ‘wash dishes’ on the list. You had finally finished everything you had to do, and it was only 2 pm. You flip the cardboard cover to the front of the notebook and hook the pen back into the metal coil holding it together. 

     The way you were dancing almost made you feel like a hippie. You were too engulfed in the booming music that you didn't hear the door of your apartment unlock.

     Roger enters the apartment. He could hear the music before he even reached the doorstep. He leans against the entrance frame of the living room, watching as you dance in a pair of short pj shorts and his t-shirt. He loved seeing you wear his clothes. 

     “Hey, cutie,” Roger says, and you almost jump out of your skin at the sudden sound of his voice. “What- Roger! That's not funny!” you whine. You scramble to the turntable and turn the volume down to three. 

     Roger laughs at your childish reaction. “I think it's very funny, actually,” he says with a smirk. You feel his strong arms wrap around your waist as your bent over the turntable. “Why are you turning it down, lovie?” he asks as he takes hold of your hand and turns it up to ten. 

     “Why are you home so early?” you ask, not answering his question about the volume. Roger spins you around, smiling at you as he holds onto you in a waltz-like position. “We decided to stop for today. Too much arguing,” he says. “Is that all?” you ask as you begin swaying in his hold. “And because I missed my girl,” he smiles and gives you a kiss. 

     You hum against his soft, pillowy lips. “You were only gone for a couple of hours,” you giggle. “Is it so criminal for a man to miss his woman?” Roger laughs. “If so, give me the electric chair,” he says as he spins you around, causing a small yelp of excitement from you. “Not criminal. Maybe needy,” you smirk back.

     “You look cute,” he says, laying a kiss on your lips and then your cheek. “Oh, do I?” you ask, and he hums. “Love it when you wear my shirts,” he smiles softly as he toys with the hem of the shirt. “Especially when you wear those tiny shorts,” he adds.

     “Why? Because it looks like I’m wearing nothing underneath?” you question. 

     “Yep,” he grins and spins you again. “Maybe I should send you to the chair,” you joke. “On what charges?” he asks. “Horniness,” you say. Roger's hands slide down your sides, poking at your hips. “Oh, you're not too innocent yourself,” he points out.

     You laugh and give him a kiss before pulling yourself from his hold. “Never said I was,” 

     Roger watches as you walk away from him. “Where do you think you're going?” he asks as he cocks an eyebrow. “Changing the record,” you chuckle. You carefully lift the vinyl from the padded surface and return it to the protective sleeve before you feel Roger's hot breath against your neck. 

     “You know, I was thinking about you earlier,” he whispers into your ear. You couldn't help but smirk. “What were you thinking?” you ask innocently, still keeping your attention fixed on the neatly organized display of your shared record collection in front of you. 

     “I was thinking about that little red outfit you wore on my birthday last year,” he says. You laugh under your breath. You had great memory of that night. “Mhm?” you hum, telling him to continue as you feel his hands wrap around your waist. “You had on your favourite red lipstick,” he continues. 

     “You mean your favourite red lipstick,” you laugh. Roger always loved how you looked in that specific shade of red. He loved when it smudged onto your chin, and when you would leave kiss marks all over his body with the lipstick just to get a rise out of him. “Whatever,” he chuckles.

     “And, my head between your thighs,” he whispers. “Roger!” you whine, hitting his hand like a mother disciplining their son for having a potty mouth. Your cheeks were as red as that god-forsaken lipstick. You turn around to face him, putting on a brave face as if your cheeks weren't blaring red. “And you screaming that!” he grinned. It took every ounce of strength in your body not to smack that smirk right off his face.

     “You're such a pervert,” you joke. Roger gave you a kiss and laughed. “You keep sleeping with that pervert, so you make up your mind, y/n” he hummed.

     “See, and I would ask if you were thinking about me too, but you were probably too focused on your artsy fartsy music,” he teased. You huff and cross your arms, but it was so difficult to stay mad at him when he was staring at you with those big blue eyes. “Hey, baby, don't be so mad. I like your music,” he says as he gives your cheek a kiss. You tighten your lips as you struggle to hide your smile. “There's that smile,” he hums, and you finally let it be seen. 

     “I hate you,” you mumble through an embarrassed laugh. “Love you, too, babe,” Roger smiles. He wraps his arms around you again as the sound of the second track on The Beatles album ‘Abbey Road’ begins playing. Roger nuzzles his face into your neck and gently kisses it as you sway. “Somewhere in her smile she knows, that I don't need no other lover…” he hums to you softly, and you smile yet again in response. 

     “How's the album coming?” you ask, and you feel as he shrugs. “Sort of behind schedule, but I much rather spend time with you,” he says. “Oh, Roger. You know I don't like it when you choose me over your work,” you annoyingly say. Roger sighs, and he moves his head from his neck to meet your eyes. “I know, I know. Just, you know, the constant bickering is exhausting,” he confesses.

     “I love making music, but now it's just like clockwork now,” he says. He didn't want to admit it, but he had to. “And the record company has us on a strict deadline, it's just… so stressful,” 

     You hated to see Roger like this. You remember the days when he was so excited to go to the studio and work on the albums. But now, every day he would come home more miserable than the day before. 

     “I understand,” you tell him, letting your fingers comb through his un-styled mop. “It will get better soon, I’m sure of it,” you say. “Just wait, soon you’ll be on tour, and you get to see the world and perform for thousands of fans!” you smile, hoping that the response from the fans would cheer him up. It did, in part. 

     Roger hugs you, burring his face in your neck yet again. “Thank you, y/n,” he whispers. The only thing he didn't favour about the tours is that he didn't get to see you. You both understood that it was an important part of his career and that it would get easier with time. 

     The next track, ‘Maxwells' Silver Hammer’ comes on. This one was a bit funny to you. You both giggle as the lyric “Bang Bang Maxwells’ silver hammer came down upon her head” came. 

     “You remember that thing you mentioned about the red dress and lipstick…?” you ask, and Roger smirks. “Of course, I do,” he says. “Still in the mood?” you ask. He didn't even have to answer, because the next thing you knew Roger was pulling you down the hall to your bedroom, not even bothering to turn off the record. 

#roger taylor #roger meddows taylor #roger taylor fanfic #roger taylor fanfiction #roger taylor fluff #roger taylor fandom #roger taylor x reader

[redundant2]

The hottest tea from Lady C in 2023

God knows why and I'm clearly a masochist, but I had a whim to watch all her 2023 videos and have transcribed the juiciest bits. (Watching them at 1.5 speed helps...a little.)

1/19/23:

“I am telling you everybody is sitting on a massive secret. . . Massive! They have been doing so for awhile. The family didn’t know about it! For quite awhile! They were actually enlightened by the public in dribs and drabs. More than that i do not wish to say at this juncture. There is nothing the RF have to apologize for.” 

"I know what each side has on the other and let me tell you something - Harry and Meghan have nothing compared to what is had against them."

1/10/2023

"Harry seems to have never understood in his 38 years on this Earth that there's a reason why the Buckingham Palace press office exists. He ought to know it only too well.

"They were busy putting out fires to preserve his reputation and presenting it from being scorched. Until he left the royal family and then started to attack them, at which point they've let him speak for himself.

"I'm telling you, I know as a fact of one huge (when I tell you 'huge', I mean HUGE! Bigger than his ego or Megan's ego) story that Buckingham Palace has been, behind the scenes desperately trying to douse.

"One. At least one."

1/7/2023

Diana had an affair with the Earl of Pembroke after William's birth but before Harry was born. "The 17th Earl of Pembroke was a tall, slim, dashingly handsome movie producer, with the ideal looks for a romantic hero. According to Barbara Cartland, his ancestral home Wilton House, in Wiltshire near Salisbury, was one of the most beautiful homes in Britain. Henry Herbert, Earl of Pembroke and Montgomery, was top drawer.

"He and the rest of his family had always mixed in royal circles as I can personally attest, having met him in 1975 at a party given by Princess Elizabeth of Yugoslavia. He was also the producer of the movie that destroyed Koo Stark's chances of becoming the Duchess of York. He didn't flip my light switch, but he flipped Diana's."

1/5/2023

Viewer Question "I want to know whether you can assure us that Harry and Megs will get their comeuppance this year."

Lady C: "You don't have to wait that long. Sometime this year, on more than one location, Harry and Megan are going to discover that what goes around, comes around and if you prod the bear long and hard enough, he will not only get up and growl, but he will swipe at you and he might even tear your raiments and remove your masks, and you will be revealed in all of your ingloriousness for what you truly are.

"Take it from me, you don't have that long to wait. A few months - there's a lot in the pipeline. "

"Oh, people are going to get their just desserts. They're going to discover that attack was not the best form of defense. Sometimes coming clean is a far better policy.

"(The Royal Family) came to the conclusion, quite justified it has to be said, that Harry wanted them to breach the rules governing the press and the royal family for his and Megan's convenience. It wasn't only for their convenience, to the best of my information. It was more than for their convenience. More than that, I do not wish to say on that particular point." (Implying that Harry wanted them to cover something up?)

1/3/2023

"I'm choosing my words very carefully. There are persistent reports from extremely well-placed people, some of whom are long-standing friends of Harry's, that Harry and Megan lead entirely separate lives. They are de facto separated, although they are living supposedly and ostensibly and superficially and very occasionally under the same roof.

"Harry is trying to make tracks back with friends, many of whom have spurned his attempts but he's not trying to make tracks back with the family because he is insistent that he is in the right, he's always been in the right. incidentally Harry's always had a massive ego, and has always been pretty uncontrollable.Tthat was one of the virtues of Meghan: she was able to control him, as we've seen, but that allure seems to have become water to a large extent under the bridge. I think William has a far more realistic attitude of what the outcome of all of this is going to be: very sad."

"Remember, Meghan she told the queen, 'Use me as you will, as if the queen was a John. Very interesting, that comment that she made." 

Bonus: 12/31/2022 - New Year's Eve

"I don't think Harry's book is going to stay on the best sellers list for any length of time, unless of course Harry and Megan start to come clean." (raises her eyebrow.)

"Meghan's like an egg beater in one's brain, but I'm going to leave you with a sword. You're going to see Megan in all her shorn glory. That's right -depend on it. Megan is going to be revealed to the world as she truly is. That's gonna be something worth seeing."

12/20/2022 - (This is the one that intrigues me most.)

"Harry and Meghan were absolutely right to be terrified (in Liverpool), and I have no doubt she was playing every card in the book in case what had gone down, came out. Let me put it that way. But he didn’t, and they are really dumb to be belaboring the point. Because now, it’s only a matter of time before what went down, it does come out. Let’s see if she commits suicide then, because what went down is definitely not going to be something he or she wants to come out. I make that point for what it’s worth.

Netflix is laying the ground for assisting in what is the most flagrant sleight of hand and manipulation ever perpetrated upon the public."

What is Harry looking down at? This was their visit to the Wirral, near Liverpool. Is this what Lady C is referring to?

#harkles #lady c #liverpool #royal family tea

[meraki-yao]

WIP Ask Game

Tagged by @nocoastposts!!! Thank you dear <3

Haven't gotten around to actually writing that much these two weeks because of school and also me working on my little rwrb animatic project instead, but here's some of what I have at the moment!

Ask me anything about my WIPs!

Works Started:

The Word of Your Body (RWRB):

Song fic of the movie Paris scene using "The Word of Your Body" from Spring Awakening, Chapter 1 in Alex's pov completed and uploaded, Chapter 2 in Henry's pov with the Reprise of the song (that supposedly Nick sang when he was in the production at 19) currently planning

Enchanted to Meet You (RWRB):

Reverse Cinderella AU: Alex is the son of the town Mayor and is holding the town's harvest festival, Henry is the repressed prince of the kingdom who snuck away for a break, but then stumbles across Alex. Loosely based on 2015 Cinderella. Chapter 1 uploaded, currently planning (*cough struggling *cough) with Chapter 2

I know better (but you're still around) (RWRB):

One-shot song fic based on Taylor Swift's "Marjorie", exploration of the Hanover-Stuart Foxs (Movie verse) finally learns to deal with their grief and reconcile. Just started writing

Take Me Out and Take Me Home (Malec)

5+1 Fic: 5 times Alec called Magnus his boyfriend and the 1 time Alec called him something more. 4 chapters done, 2 left, and currently sort of in writer's block for this fic

Ideas:

I'll See You In My Dreams (RWRB)

Where the only way the insomniac Prince Henry can fall asleep is to the ASMR videos of a certain ACD, who's later invited to a discussion/panel for one of Henry's mental health-related programmes (or some other social issue? I'll have to think about it)

Book Tok Fic (haven't thought of a name yet) (RWRB)

Inspired by some tik tok reuploaded to Instagram reel I saw ages ago: Henry is an author who's struggling to write the physical part of romantic scenes in his novel and Alex, his roommate who he has a massive crush on offers to help by demonstrating it with him. Kiss kiss fall in love :)

The Little Prince (RWRB)

Movie Verse Expanded: Taking the campfire scene monologue and telling the story each part shows, ex: "His grandfather, the King, sent the prince a suit of armor and told him that if he always wore it, nothing would ever happen to him." = the King's talk with Henry on his 18th birthday

I know you (I walked with you once upon a dream) (RWRB)

Sleeping Beauty + Soulmates AU with Henry as Aurora and Alex as Prince Philip, the dreams actually being a soulmate connection (the mechanics of the soulmate aspect inspired by one of my favourite Malec fics)

 The Dreams That You Dream (RWRB)

Henry's POV of the Buckingham protest, one on book and one on movie

Song Fics/ Character Studies (RWRB)

At All Cost from Wish and You Matter to Me from Waitress

Identical (Qi Ye/ Tian Ya Ke)

I don't think any one of my tumblr followers would know this one but Qi Ye and Tian Ya Ke is a duology of Chinese BL ancient drama novels, with the latter adapted into the TV Show Word of Honor. There are two characters in the book that although only met once, have a very similar trajectory when it comes to their relationships and unrequited love, only one already moved on and found someone better while the other hasn't. Had this idea to expand upon their connection because in the novel, the one it's implied that the one that moved on immediately recognized their shared experience. But I never got around to writing it, it has been lying in my drafts for a year now 😭

Tagging @typicalopposite @luainthewild @england-would-fall @pippin-katz and anyone who wants to join in!

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #rwrb movie #taylor zakhar perez #alex claremont diaz #nicholas galitzine #henry hanover stuart fox #henry fox mountchristen windsor #firstprince #rwrb fic #rwrb fanfic #firstprince fic #firstprince fanfic #shadowhunters #malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #shadowhunters fic #malec fic #qi ye #qi ye fic #tian ya ke #tian ya ke fic #jing beiyuan #wu xi #ye baiyi #meraki writes #meraki fics #tag game