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fckoffjakegyllenhaal · 2 months

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how long can we be a sad song? (till we are too far gone to bring back to life)

modern day high school au

// your girlfriend lottie has always made it clear soccer is her main priority. when nationals near and she begins ignoring you, your final straw seems to be when she lashes out at you. //

warnings: angst but kinda fluffy at the end, breakups, asshole!lottie, jock!lottie, she’s mean for like a minute lol

you let out a quiet sigh as you sit on the bleachers and watch your girlfriend and laura lee continue to practice on the soccer field. even though practice ended an hour ago. finally, laura lee announces she needs to get home, and she waves at you as she makes her way off the field. you look over at lottie who’s offering you a smile. it’s way too late to go and watch that movie in town you wanted to see, so you know now your only option is hanging out at one of your houses.

you stand up, making your way down the bleachers and over to your girlfriend. “did you still want to hang out?” lottie asks, “i’m a bit tired, maybe we can just catch the movie tomorrow?” lottie offers and you feel your entire mood sour even more than it already was. “i just waited two hours to hang out with you.” you point out, and the raven haired girl frowns. “i never asked you to wait. i told you i have to really focus on nationals.” lottie states sternly, and you nod. “i know that. i know nationals is super important to you… but you’ve blown me off for three weeks now because of it. i just thought… i don’t know, you’d make a little time for me too.” your voice is quiet, and soft. you don’t sound angry but you sound disappointed.

lottie feels a wave of guilt wash over her. “i’m sorry. tomorrow i’ll leave as soon as coach ben ends practice. promise.” she insists, sounding so sincere you actually believe her. your dismal expression is quickly replaced by a happy one. you nod, “okay. can you meet me at my place tomorrow after practice? i have a piano lesson at my house so i can’t watch you practice.” you admit and she nods, flashing you the same smile you fell in love with. “of course, babe. come on, i’ll drive you home.” she offers kindly, and your heart skips a beat as she reaches for your hand, interlocking her fingers with yours.

the next day at school you spent the entire day eager for it to end. you couldn’t wait to see the barbie movie, and you had been going on and on about how excited you were about it. you even missed going with your friends, in order to see it with lottie because she promised. after school, you give lottie a kiss goodbye and made your way to your sisters car.

what you expect after your piano lesson is lottie to text you that she’s outside and waiting for you. but what happens is you get ready for your date, and you end up waiting two hours. two hours and not a single text or call from lottie. you don’t even bother texting her more than once because you feel so emotionally exhausted. she’s been putting you aside all year for soccer, and sure, at first you understood. this could get her a scholarship… but she’s rich! she could afford to get into any school, and play on any college team…

maybe she just doesn’t want to hang out with me.

“honey, why are you all dolled up? you have plans?” your mother asks you, walking out of the kitchen wearing an apron that’s stained with some sort of red sauce. “no. not anymore. i was supposed to hang out with lottie today, but… she canceled for soccer practice again.” you confess hesitantly and your mother nods. “that girls gonna burn herself out with all the practice she does.” she comments jokingly, but you’re not in the mood to laugh. your mother realizes something is wrong right away.

“mom, do you think… do you think lottie likes soccer more than she likes me?” you question, your voice laced with insecurity. your mother laughs as if you’ve said the funniest thing on the planet. “that’s absurd, mija (sweetheart), that girl once walked all the way here just to give you flowers.” your mother reminds and you feel a pang of hurt hit your heart. “she… she just doesn’t do those things anymore. she’s always been so serious about soccer but this year? god, she’s been a nightmare. did i tell you allie broke her leg during a practice scrimmage? that’s how serious they’re taking this…” you trail off and the older woman’s eyes widen a bit at the revelation.

“she’s just a different person these days. it doesn’t feel like she likes me very much anymore.” you admit sadly, and your mother frowns. “have you talked to her about this?” she inquires uncertainly, and you nod. “not all of it, but i have told her i feel like she puts soccer before me and our relationship a lot.” you explain, “she always says it’s just in my head, and that she loves me… but she stood me up again after promising she wouldn’t and i—“ your voice cracks and your mother rushes over to you. “honey, no. this— this isn’t right. you need to talk to her about this. all of it.” the older woman says sternly, and you sniffle as you wipe a tear away. you’ve always been so sensitive and this entire situation was getting to you.

“what if— what if we break up? or what if she confirms that she does think soccer is more important? i… i don’t know if i can handle that.” you whisper the last part and the raven haired woman shakes her head. “well you’re going to have to, because the longer you let this fester, the worse you’re going to feel.” she comments stringently, causing you to look up at her with sad eyes. “y-you’re right. i’ll talk to her tomorrow.” you assure her, and just as your mother is about to respond, your phone starts vibrating.

the screen lights up with texts from lottie, and you look at your mom. “it’s her.” you say, and she shrugs. “don’t respond for a few hours. come help me with dinner, it’ll get your mind off her.” she suggests, and you press your lips together. “isn’t ignoring her just as bad?” you question and she shakes her head, “you’re just giving her a taste of her own medicine. come on; leave the phone there and come help me.” your mother insists, helping you off the couch and gesturing your towards the kitchen.

all your mother let you do was chop up some zucchini, and set the table. still, talking with her about other things than lottie was nice. and talking about lottie definitely gave you some perspective. you were definitely going to talk to your girlfriend about this, and you were going to put your foot down. you weren’t going to make her choose between you and soccer; you’d never even consider doing that. you just wanted a little time, and to maybe be prioritized a little better.

after dinner you end up going upstairs, taking a shower, washing your face, and brushing your teeth. you wander around your bedroom, nirvana blasting on your speaker as you dry your hair. your phone chimes again, signaling you got another text.

(7;56 p.m) lottie: tai made us practice late again, i’m sorry. can we reschedule?

(7;57 p.m) lottie: this saturday is all yours! i promise!

(8;12 p.m) lottie: hello?

(8;15 p.m) lottie: my texts are delivering, so i know your phones on.

(8;20 p.m) lottie: i’m really sorry about the movie

(9;33 p.m) lottie: no phone call tonight?

(9;35 p.m) you: hey, i got caught up with piano practice, and helping my mom with dinner, and then being stood up by my girlfriend

you know your response is petty, and unlike you, but you were still upset. lottie has never just pushed you aside like this, and to do it so consistently all of a sudden made you feel so bad. especially about yourself. it made you wonder if she was losing interest. if maybe she was only using soccer as an excuse to stop hanging out with you.

(9;38 p.m) lottie: well, i’m glad you’re alive. i didn’t stand you up, you know how tai gets when she decides something. i have to take nationals seriously.

you scoff at her response, and quickly get to typing.

(9;40 p.m) you: i understand that. but you’ve promised me four different times about this movie, and at this point i don’t even want to go anymore.

(9;42 p.m) lottie: i know you’re upset and i’m sorry. but if i want to win nationals i have to practice really hard. harder than usual. right now that’s my main concern

you toss your phone onto your bed, not even bothering to respond. it was like talking to a brick wall. tomorrow you’d have to face her and talk about this in person. the thought alone causes a nauseous feeling to settle in the pit of your stomach. there was this wave of dread that washes over you, and for the first time in your relationship with lottie, you feel as though you two aren’t on the same page.

the next day at school was hell for lottie. you barely spoke to her; you didn’t sit with her and the team during lunch. she knew you were upset but she didn’t think you were this upset. you’ve always been so understanding about her passion for soccer, and you’ve never acted this way before. but… then again, lottie has never taken practice this serious. she just doesn’t want to let her team down, and she can see how much the girls want this. she wants it too, but she knows they have more on the line. tai wants a scholarship, and going to nationals will look great on a college application.

you’ll get over it. lottie tells herself. that day she sees you waiting for her by the bleachers; there’s an unrecognizable expression drawn onto your features. she just finished changing into her practice clothes and cleats, and she tries to smile at you, but it doesn’t quite meet her eyes. “hey.” she says as she leans in to kiss you, but you tilt your head to the side in order for her lips to land on your cheek. “hi… we should talk. i’ll make it quick.” you promise and she nods uncertainly, a feeling of unease creeping up on her. “i don’t really like the way i’ve been feeling lately…” you start, and she opens her mouth to talk but you stop her.

“… i’ve always felt like you and i have been on the same page, but lately i just feel like your mind is strictly on soccer. for the entire year you’ve been spending extra time practicing, and you barely talk to me about anything other than it. you blow me off for practice and you’ve missed all of our date nights for the last three months.” you point out, and lottie shakes her head. “y/n, do you understand what’s at stake here? not just my future, but all of my teammates. i’m not just working this hard for me, it’s for my team. i’m sorry if you’re feeling a little ignored and craving attention, but until nationals are over, you’re just gonna have to suck it up and deal with it.” she states, sounding a bit frustrated.

you look shocked with her words; she’s never been that blunt and cruel. here you were telling her how you felt and she was being like this. lottie can see the look on your face, you look as though you’re about to cry. though she’s much too stressed to care, so instead of deciding to apologize like she normally would, she scoffs. “i don’t have time for this. every day is another problem with you. it’s getting annoying.” lottie snaps, and you try to blink away the tears as you clench your jaw. she sounds so much like her father (who she hates), it nearly makes you laugh.

“well, i’m sorry for wanting to spend some time with you. i’m sorry i actually believed you when you promised me you’d make time and put in the slightest bit of effort for me. that was clearly my mistake. don’t worry, matthews, i promise i won’t be a problem for you anymore.” you hiss, tears in your eyes as you sound angry and hurt. lottie watches you leave and she stands there, feeling like a complete asshole. before she can even consider chasing after you, coach ben blows his whistle, signaling for all the girls to get on the field.

so here’s the thing, when you promised lottie you wouldn’t be a ‘problem’ anymore, she wasn’t exactly sure what you meant. but the next day, you came to school with a small box of her things in your hands. you march right up to her, there was nothing but determination on your face. lottie wasn’t stupid; she knew what this meant and it causes her heart rate to pick up anxiously. “the rest of your stuff you can come pick up whenever. it was too big to bring to school.” you say, keeping your voice quiet so no one can hear. lottie looks like a kicked puppy, “wh-what do you mean?“ you almost feel bad about the clear fear in her tone as she realizes she’s losing you.

“it didn’t fit in the box, so you can come and pick it up whenever.” you repeat more clearly, as if you hadn’t been clear as day the first time. “i know that… i just mean— why are you giving me my stuff back?” she asks, completely afraid of the answer. you don’t respond, and the silence tells her everything. “you’re breaking up with me over a fight?” she asks a bit angrily, and you shake your head; your poker face faltering. “i’m breaking up with you because you act like you don’t want to be with me! i’m not asking you to stop prioritizing soccer, i just wanted a little effort, lottie. you couldn’t even give me that.” you point out, pushing the box into her arms.

“like i said, you can pick up your other stuff whenever you’re not too busy.” you practically hiss at her, before you turn around and leave her standing there. lottie feels as though she’s been slapped in the face. the one person she had figured would always be there, was now walking away from her and disappearing into the hoard of bustling students. natalie, who had been watching the entire ordeal from her locker, walks up to lottie. “what was that about? it looked serious…” natalie starts cautiously, trying to make sure her best friend is okay. lottie looks worse than when becky martin started telling the entire school about lottie being schizophrenic. but you were there for her throughout all of that; never caring about her diagnosis or thinking of her any differently. she was always your lottie. but now she wasn’t your anything.

lottie starts to tear up, and natalie’s eyes widen at the sight of the broken-hearted girl. “she dumped me.” lottie admits in a frail tone, a tone natalie has never heard from the raven haired girl. “shit… seriously? what happened?” natalie asks, and lottie proceeds to tell her best friend everything. she tells her all about how she began neglecting you at the begin of the year, and you being you, always let it slide. yet as she became more and more emotionally and physically unavailable, she began leaving you alone.

she tells natalie about how these last few weeks she was a total nightmare. she even forgot to text you some days. natalie looks shocked at this revelation; you two always seemed like such a great couple. you hadn’t even let anyone know there was trouble in paradise. the bell rings, and natalie clasps lottie’s wrists and begins to lead her towards the schools exit. natalie knew the last thing her friend needed was to be surrounded by a bunch of annoying students in class.

as soon as they get to the bottom of the bleachers, natalie flashes her a stern look.

“alright matthews, you screwed up, but i’m gonna help you fix it.” lottie looks shocked at natalie’s declaration, and she shakes her head. “why? why do you wanna help me?” she questions, and natalie shrugs. “you’re my best friend. plus y/n is a good person who actually gives a shit about you. you’re never gonna forgive yourself if you don’t fix it.” natalie’s voice is stern, and lottie nods in agreement.

“what should i do?” the yellowjackets sweeper asks uncertainly, and natalie offers her a mischievous smirk. “i have an idea that could work.” natalie admits, as she begins to give lottie a list of ways she could romance you. lottie listens, clearly very interested.

that weekend is the hardest. lottie has never gone longer than a day without hearing your beautiful voice. you two never really fought throughout your relationship; you learned pretty early into your friendship with lottie that her home life was mean and harsh enough. you never dared add any hurt to her life. when lottie was upset she quickly realized she could talk to you about anything; you were so easy to open up to, and no matter what you were doing you always made time for her.

the entire weekend lottie feels like trash. she realizes that she doesn’t even know how you’re doing. you two barely broke up, yet it feels like she hasn’t truly talked to you for months. god, maybe she was a terrible girlfriend. she put soccer before you, and now she doesn’t even feel like going to practice. though she knows she has to. she has an obligation to her friends and team… but she can’t help but feel like she let you down, and you didn’t know it but you were one of the most important people in her life.

now she fears that if none of natalie’s ideas work, she’ll lose you for sure. she’s tried to text you nearly every day since the breakup on friday, but you refuse to answer any of her texts. she even tried calling you on saturday night, but you didn’t pick up. when monday rolls around lottie comes to school with a huge bouquet of sunflowers and red roses. your two favorites. she hasn’t felt this nervous since she first asked you to be her girlfriend, except right now she knew you didn’t want to talk to her or even see her.

everyone looks at the raven haired girl as soon as she walks into school. surely everyone knows about your breakup by now, because mari is your best friend and she also seems to have the biggest mouth. not to mention she had been glaring at lottie all throughout practice on friday evening. she could tell you told mari everything and by the looks she was receiving she could tell everyone else knew now too.

as soon as she sees you standing by your locker talking to mari and akilah, mari’s eyes zero in on the tall raven haired girl making her way up to you. your best friend taps on you, and nods in lottie’s direction. you turn your head, and instead of your eyes lighting up at the sight of her and the bouquet, your large orbs fill with dread. her step falters a bit but she keeps her head high as she approaches you. “y/n… these are for you. i’m really sorry.” lottie’s voice is small, and you shake your head.

“they’re beautiful, but they aren’t going to fix anything.” you deadpan and lottie frowns. “i know that. but i thought maybe they could be the first step to fixing things?” she suggests and you glance at akilah and mari. you reach for lottie’s free hand and lead her to a secluded spot in the hall. “why are you doing this here? in front of everyone?” you ask her with supplicating eyes, and she knits her brows together. “because you won’t return my calls, and i haven’t stopped thinking about you. y/n, if you’d hear me out, i know i could fix this.” she pleads with you, and those eyes nearly make you cave.

you quickly remind yourself how you both ended up here, causing you to shut your eyes and take a breath. when you open them, lottie has a hopeful expression etched onto her features. “i gave you plenty of chances to fix it when we were together. for the last two months i’ve given you nothing but chances. you told me time and time again that soccer was your priority, and i respect that. so please respect my decision and leave me alone.” you whisper the last part a bit harshly as you turn around and storm away.

lottie stands there, heartbroken and ashamed. she looks at the flowers that seem to be taunting her. she crushes the stems in her hand as she approaches the nearest trash bin, tossing them in. so much for flowers and a heartfelt apology. lottie feels like a fool for even trying.

a week goes by and lottie is practically a walking zombie. she’s barely been eating or sleeping. she was so used to falling asleep on facetime with you, or falling asleep texting you… now she can barely get a wink of sleep. all she can think about is how mean to you she was the day before you two broke up. god, she can’t get that sad, puppy dog expression you flashed her out of her head.

“come on, lottie! where’s your head at!?” tai snaps in the middle of a scrimmage. lottie had been paying less attention to anything that didn’t have to do with you these days. it’s ironic, it took her losing you to realize what she had. her notes for her classes were empty lately, her parents didn’t even notice she was barely saying a word at home, and practice was the worst. lottie was so used to seeing you in the bleachers during most of her practices; you’d be watching her with this big smile on your face, or doing homework. you always looked so pretty. now you weren’t there and lottie never realized how happy seeing you sitting on those bleachers made her. how important she felt that you spent time watching her practice because you didn’t want to be away from her.

lottie doesn’t get her head in the game even after being yelled at by tai. in the locker room, its worse. “what the hell, lottie?? we’re this close to winning nationals and you choose now to start slacking??” tai asks harshly, natalie steps in before lottie can respond. “hey, leave her alone she’s had a shitty week.” natalie states sternly and tai rolls her eyes. “so have all of us! newsflash, the world doesn’t stop because lottie matthews is going through a breakup. we’re a team, meaning you need to get your mind together and focus on the game.” tai’s voice is angry and demanding.

lottie feels a surge of rage wash over her. “not everything is about soccer!” she snaps back loudly, taking the curly haired girl and most of the girls by surprise. “god, you’re all so worked up over this fucking game next week that we’ve all been nightmares! jackie, you and shauna have been at each offers throats for weeks, tai you’ve barely talked to van about anything other than nationals, laura lee has been praying to god for nothing but us winning, mar’s been a bigger cunt than usual, natalie is stress drinking again, and my girlfriend dumped me because i was ignoring her for months! for a sport i used to have fun playing, with a team who used to actually give a shit about each other!” lottie lets it all pour out like a leaky faucet, and everyone stands there dumbfounded by the outburst.

“lottie—“ tai starts but lottie slams her locker shut. “fuck this.” she hisses as she swings her nike duffle bag over her shoulder and storms out of the locker room. she doesn’t even bother changing out of her uniform. lottie’s blood is boiling and her teeth are gritting all the way to her car. she feels as though in a week her entire life has spiraled downhill. she’s been downhill more times than she can count, but she’s never been there without you. this sucks.

she seems to be so upset that she doesn’t even realize she’s driving in the direction of your house. she feels so lost, and it seems she ended up where she feels the safest. with you. lottie aimlessly approaches your door; she’s still in her soccer uniform and her hair is in loose pigtails. the way you always said made her look undeniably cute. she knocks on the door and looks down at her dirty cleats. she thinks about how unhappy you’re probably going to look to see her; she isn’t used to that. she hates it.

her eyes well up with tears and she sniffles, the door swings open before she can think to cover up the fact that she was crying. you had seen her through the peephole, putting on your best angry face before you answered the door. but as soon as you saw the broken girl in front of you, and you heard the sad little sniffle, your face softens immediately. “are you okay?” even though you know it’s a dumb question, you still ask because you don’t want to sound harsh. she doesn’t look like she needs anymore of that.

“i— i didn’t know where else to go.” she admits lowly, roughly wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. you give in quickly, stepping aside for her to come in. “what happened?” you ask her as she steps inside, taking her shoes off politely in a way that makes you smile. even in her sad state, she still remembers your mothers rules. “i got into a fight with tai… you were right, lately we’ve all been terrible. i’ve been terrible. to you especially. i’m really sorry, y/n.” she sounds sincere and sad, you can see her staring hopelessly at you; waiting for you to say something.

you press your lips together before letting out a sigh, turning your head away from her. “it’s okay. i understand. nationals are a lot of pressure, and i just think maybe right now it’s better if we’re just friends. i want a normal relationship, and i want my girlfriend to be as excited about prom as i am. i want to be able to go to the movies and have date nights without worrying about getting in the way of your schedule. i just think we want different things now.” you explain, trying to keep your voice light but she can hear the sadness laced through your tone clear as day.

lottie shakes her head rapidly, standing up and inching towards you. “i want those things too. i love our date nights, and you never get in the way of my schedule. i promise. i am excited about prom— at least i was… when i knew i was going with you.” lottie’s response is quiet and low, making you frown. “you never even asked me to prom, lot. it’s next month!” you point out and lottie flashes you those puppy eyes you could never resist when you were together. why does she have to be so cute?

“please go to prom with me.” she insists and before you can decline, and goes on. “i want to prove to you we still want the same things! if you still don’t want to be with me after prom… okay. i’ll respect your decision. but you have to let me try. please.” lottie sounds desperate, and she’s borderline begging. you let out sharp exhale, “fine. fine. i’ll go to prom with you, matthews. but i swear to god if you mess this up again, we’re done.” you warn her and she nods eagerly, reaching for your hands.

“i promise! i’m not gonna let you down this time!” she swears as she leans in and places a kiss on your cheek. “this times gonna be different.” she assures you, and you allow her to pull you in for a hug. you melt into her embrace, and you hesitantly wrap your arms around her. you can’t hope but help she’s telling you the truth this time. you suppose the only thing you can do is wait and see.

#lottie matthews x fem reader angst #lottie matthews x fem reader #lottie matthews x you #lottie x fem reader angst #lottie x reader #lottie matthews x reader #lottie matthews x y/n #lottie matthews #lottie matthews icons #lottie matthews angst #yellowjackets #lottie mathews x reader

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christinesficrecs · 2 months

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Hi! I have been looking for hours for this one fic, and I know pretty much the entire story of the fic yet I can’t find it and I’m so scared that it was deleted because I’ve been dying to reread it but, the story was Sterek and they and the rest of the pack work at a historical reenactment town, (it was originally a town made by the Hales, and the house still burnt down in the woods), Derek was a blacksmith with Boyd and Stiles was a guide, they both think the other hates each other. Stiles is also tasked by Laura or Cora with organizing the blacksmith area and the stuff Derek and Boyd make. I know they were still werewolves but I don’t know if Stiles knew they were werewolves. There was a heat stroke incident with Stiles, Stiles also finds a weather vane that Derek had made, and at the end Derek and Stiles are walking to the parking lot and see a ghost light and they explain why one another thought the other hated them. If you know what’s it called or anything else that would be amazing!! Thank you!

Yes, it has been deleted. Luckily, you can read it on the wayback or find it in the dropbox. 🩷

Historically Inaccurate by asocialfauxpas (fuzzytomato) | 20.3K | Explicit | wayback | dropbox

Stiles is surprisingly okay with all the weird shit that goes on at Beacon City Historic Ghost Town - ghost lights, howling, pianos playing on their own. Having to work closely with the surly blacksmith is another matter.

#asks #sterek fics #ficrecs #deleted fic #poke-me-and-scream

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backup-baby-backup · 1 year

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List of Speak Now TV-related Easter eggs Taylor has dropped recently (just drop it already ffs)

NB: I'm only including hints that are obvious and don't require mental gymnastics. Your mileage might vary, of course.

27 February 2020: The Man music video is released, with the iconic graffitied wall showing Speak Now coming after Red.

26 October 2020: Taylor posts this TikTok.

I really think this is a really obvious hint, but nobody ever seems to talk about it... anyways notice how the colours of the garments she points at go purple > blue > green > black?

9 November 2021: Red (Taylor's Version) signed CDs go on sale. On her website, the price $20.10 is written in purple.

12 November 2021: "Red is about to be mine again, but it has always been ours."

13 December 2021: Taylor turns 32. Her AMA award for Speak Now can be seen in this photo she posts.

20 January 2021: Taylor is named 2022 Record Store Day Ambassador. The logo uses purple text and we lose our minds.

5 May 2022: Taylor Nation drops Speak Now (and 1989) merch for some reason.

Apparently, this was to show the Speak Now trademark was still being used, but I'm still putting it here.

21 October 2022: Anti-Hero music video released.

The koi fish guitar from the Speak Now World Tour makes an appearance.

Also, in the official YouTube video for the TSAntiHeroChallenge thing, she wears the purple dress from the Speak Now tour.

25 October 2022: Bejeweled music video released.

This day is the 12th anniversary of Speak Now.

Enchanted plays at the beginning.

Laura Dern says "Speak not".

Taylor presses the 3 button in the elevator, which is coloured purple.

The 13 button and the 13th indicator light (representing the album after Midnights) are also purple.

Taylor's hairpin says "SN".

Koi fish appears in the windows of the castle.

Long Live plays at the end.

1 November 2022: "I'm enchanted to announce my next tour..."

27 January 2023: Lavender Haze music video released.

The koi fish appears again.

29 January 2023: The official Taylor Swift 2024 calendar is shown on the publisher's website. It features photos from the Speak Now tour.

The cover picture is the same one used in the Eras Tour to represent the Speak Now era.

It will be available for purchase on July 20th.

17 March 2023: Taylor drops If This Was A Movie (TV), which was a deluxe track on Speak Now, and Safe & Sound and Eyes Open (TV), which were first performed live on the Speak Now tour.

9 April 2023: Photos from the set of a music video being filmed in Liverpool are leaked. The Speak Now tour flying balcony and piano can be seen.

13 April 2023: Taylor says that "recently one of my albums has been on my mind a lot" before performing Speak Now.

1 May 2023: Taylor posts this. The purple heart speaks for itself.

5 May 2023: WE WON. WE FINALLY WON.

#taylor swift #speak now #speak now taylor’s version #clowning

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originalwombatfart · 1 month

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Echo Visual Novel Playlist!

Hey all! Last year I played Echo, and by god has it stuck with me. From the story, art, characters, and generally just how naturally all the queer stuff felt during my time reading. I highly suggest anyone who had not played it yet to check it out, but be warned it is not for the faint of heart!

My and my partner made this playlist over the course of 4 months! It had 4 hours of songs that we tried to fit into vibes, characters, and themes. Here is my breakdown of what each song fits to. Some songs a directed towards characters, but each song is centered in their category. Some songs overlap, and could fit multiple characters.

-Chase: Bottom of the River, Christmas Kids, Spanish Sahara, I Scared All My Friends Away, Underwater, Blood On My Name, Little Secrets, The view Between Villages, Am I Dreaming

-Jenna: Piano Fire, Fast Car, My Silver Lining, Re: Re:, Distance Facebook Drama, Nothing You Can Take From Me

-Leo: Christmas Kids, Ribs, Cha-Ching, 27 Reasons, Got You, Same Drugs, I Love You So, Favorite Poison, Two Birds,

-TJ: Christmas Kids, The Good, Lions Roar

-Carl: You are Stronger, Tree House, Close Tonight, Numbers, 2/14, Cold Weather, The Dead Come Talking, Fall Asleep, Tongue Tied, Panic Attack

-Flynn: Bottom of the River, Turn the Lights off, Wild Side, I Scared All My Friends Away, Allies or Enemies, Blood On My Name, Key Plus Words, Never Love an Anchor, Can't Catch Me Now, A Toast and A Spirit, Dirty Little Secrets, Panic Attack

-Sydney: Underwater, Allies or Enemies, Can't Catch Me Now, Unconditional Love, The Dead Come Talking, Father

-Brian: Lovely Bastards

-Tetanus Alley Gang: Cause for Concern, Remember Me

-The Group as a whole: No Instructions, I'd rather go blind, Nothing's New, Photos from When We Were Young, One Day, Running Away, Everyone's a VIP to Someone, Normal People Things, Escapism, Theseus (Good Endings), Hey Lover

-Town of Echo: Everything Stays, Bullet With Butterfly Wings, Hanging Tree, No Glory in the West, Muddy Waters Breakers Roar, Never Be Alone

-Vibes: You're Not Here, Theme of Laura, Space Song, Beyond Desolation (Bad Endings), dream (they do be dreaming), Serenity

Overall Very proud of the work we put in! A few songs didn't make the cut, but I am satisfied with the list we have. Four hours is a lot! Let me know if you wan individual explanations on why we put a song on the list.

#echo project #echo #sydney bronson #chase hunter #carl hendricks #jenna begay #leo alvarez #tj hess #spotify playlist #furry #flynn moore #Spotify

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ghostradiodylan · 4 months

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I'm on a four hour car drive, singing at the top of my lungs (terribly, I'm so congested right now, not gonna stop me though lol), and having quarry brainrot. Who among the counselors do you think can sing well and who do you think can play an instrument?

I looove this question and I have to admit I haven’t thought about it that much so this is gonna be kind of off the cuff, instinctive stuff and I’m sure I’ll refine my opinions if others chime in (please!).

It’s kind of weird we never get any campfire singalong action in the game when there’s a guitar in Chris’s bedroom and he mentions Kumbaya, but maybe they’re tired of that from camp by the time the plot line picks up.

Miles obviously is a musician and Dylan’s the music guy so I’d imagine he’s musically inclined in some way. I’ve seen headcanons that he plays guitar and I could see that but I lean more toward thinking he would have taken piano lessons when he was younger and moved on to keyboard and adding on techie stuff like the Mellotron and Moog synth. I think he loves dials and buttons and weird sounds and he can sing but he’d rather fuck around in the noise. Any instrument he plays is gonna get a bit sad if he loses his hand but maybe he’d get more into sampling and remixing and looping computer generated beats as a result.

I think it would be funny if Jacob had a surprisingly angelic singing voice that was completely uncoached and no one ever expected out of him, sort of like Finn from Glee (RIP) but less auto-tuned. I think he’d be an acoustic guitar guy for sure just for the romance of it. Anyway, here’s “Wonderwall.”

Actual footage of Jacob serenading Emma, feat Abi.

Kaitlyn does not strike me as particularly musical though I headcanon that she and Jacob slay karaoke together. She just kind of shouts into the mic like a 90s riot grrl and sings Alanis or Joan Jett and kills.

Abi is so high school marching band nerd coded to me and I feel like she’s a total flute/piccolo girlie or else clarinet/oboe. Or maybe she plays violin in the school orchestra. Something sweet. She’s good but too nervous to perform or audition in front of people very much so it’s just a hobby she shares with people she trusts.

Emma I think would have a perfectly nice mid range singing voice that she’d wish was better. She probably started her influencer career recording Taylor Swift covers for YouTube but she’s a much better actress and dancer than she is a singer. Not quite triple threat material but she believes in herself so she’s trying.

Ryan has such a unique voice that I can’t decide if he definitely can sing or if he’s practically tone deaf. I kind of lean toward the latter. I imagine he hates his singing voice and rarely sings even for fun but if Dylan catches him singing or humming he’s like smitten times one million about it. I could see Ryan playing drums though, I’d imagine he has a good sense of rhythm.

Max, on the other hand, cannot carry a tune but sings ALL THE TIME anyway. And Laura cringes but finds it endearing all the same. He probably plays the ukulele. He just seems like the type.

Laura was a choir kid for sure and probably got solos in school plays and Max was accompanying her on ukulele and playing unnamed roles or else he was painting backdrops or something. We know Siobahn can sing and I feel like that would carry through with Laura for sure. I imagine them doing elaborate musical routines together on car rides even with their vastly different musical abilities.

Nick reminds me of a bassist I know who is maybe the weirdest human being alive. So that’s where I see him. He can sing a little but it’s definitely a backing vocals voice. I feel like he’d be in a stoner jam band just fucking around, playing the same song for an hour while both the band and audience are too high to know the difference.

Chris Hackett obviously plays guitar and Travis accompanies him on harmonica. Bobby plays blowing air over the lip of a jug and also cowbell.

I LOVE THIS ASK EVERYONE TELL ME THOUGHTS!

#the quarry #dylan lenivy #ryan erzahler #kaitlyn ka #jacob custos #abi blyg #emma mountebank #max brinly #nick furcillo #laura kearney #chris hackett #travis hackett #Nick Furcillo bullying hours #Bobby Hackett #ilu torch thanks for the ask #beautiful asks from beautiful people #miles Robbins #siobhan williams

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kristencsummerlin · 2 months

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Soul Eater Head cannons lol

1: Maka is a role-player. (This is mostly because Laura Bailey her voice actress is a major role-player) oddly enough her characters tend to be magic users because playing a heroic witch just fills her.

2: Maka drinks Dr Pepper mainly because she happened to randomly leave Tsugumi one at the top of the stairs in Soul Eater Not. Which fills my day because I fucking love Dr Pepper.

3: Soul loves and hates Billy Joel. He loves the guy's music and everything but he knows for a fact that everyone sees him as their Piano Man and it annoys him.

4: Kid has both OCD and OCPD because he shows signs of both disabilities.

5: I've stated this before but I'm 99 percent sure that Excalibur plays everything he does up because he doesn't want anyone to wield him. Hiro passed everything and when it was basically long enough for the sword to know enough of the kid he suddenly was dealing with a sneeze fit.

6: Blair ships Maka and Soul which is why she goes out of her way to flirt with Soul just to make Maka angry. She thinks it's proof that Maka has feelings.

7: Ragnarök is overprotective of Crona like an older sibling. The whole "I'm allowed to pick on them as long as I want. But if someone else does it I'm going for their heads."

8: Blackstar is the glue to the group. He has formed a bond with at least everyone in some way. If he got hurt their will be an army of angry people wanting to revenge him.

9: Kid and Monica from Friends are soul siblings and you can't tell me otherwise. Like I see Kid having a vacuum for his vacuum in case he needed to vacuum his vacuum.

10: The Group watch bad horror movies together to play their own home version of Mystery Science Theater. However Kid mostly gets annoyed and fumes over the movies while everyone else makes jokes.

11: Soul and Liz share music playlists and songs on Spotify. Or the Soul Eater version of it. Like Skullify.

12: Sid plays father figure to all the orphans that join the DWMA. Possibly because he was one and knows how it feels to not have a parent in one's life.

13: Kid has a list of mother figures. Which he's honored and annoyed by.

14: Hiro had a weapon partner but they got injured and or went home which is why he's looked at as the worst meister because he hasn't done any missions sense joining the E.A.T. classes.

#I'll post more if I can think of any more.#feel free to join in if you want to #soul eater #maka albarn #soul eater evans #death the kid #excalibur #blair witch #soul eater ragnarok #blackstar #liz thompson #sid barrett #soul eater hiro #soul eater headcanons

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whositmcwhatsit · 10 months

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Chapter One

AN: Sigh, I don't know, guys. This is as close to fluffy and light as I can get I think!

@itsnotthatserious03 @everythingelvispresley @bigromansgirl-blog

As always, shout out to the Elvis harem: @thatbanditqueen, @be-my-ally, @vintageshanny, @ellie-24, @from-memphis-with-love, @missmaywemeetagain

Chapter Two

“I can’t believe you didn’t mention this all day,” Laura marvelled, shaking her head as the server appeared, asking if they would like their champagne topped up. “Just a quiet night, you said.”

“Well, I couldn’t get my head around it,” Sally shrugged awkwardly. “And I wasn’t sure if you’d even believe me.”

“Oh, I believe you,” Laura replied, looking around the showroom at the commotion and the activity. “I definitely believe you. I’m just so jealous, you got to meet Elvis Presley, he talked to you. You know Barb is going to kill you.”

“She is?”

“Oh my gosh, yes. Have you never heard the story of how she went to one of his shows back in the day? To hear her say it he practically climbed off the stage and proposed to her. But he never kissed her and she never got to go to his dressing room.”

“Maybe we could get an autograph or something for her?” Sally tried to decide whether that was actually a kind gesture or if it would feel like rubbing it in her face.

“Yes, that’ll cheer her up, until you tell her that you got it after making out with Elvis.” They both giggled at that silly idea.

Laura flashed her a wide grin as the lights started to go down and the drums rappelled around the large room and Sally felt her heart matching the pace and the beat. She had worried that telling Laura what had happened would spoil it somehow, break open that little case of joy that she had wrapped around the memory as if this is what made it special, made it hers. Yet once Laura got over her shock, her excitement is what actually made it feel real. For some reason, Sally had held back the phone call though, wanting to keep that just for herself. She had half-believed she had dreamed it until she went down to the ticket office and there were indeed two tickets left under her name for the midnight show.

Elvis bounded out from the wings and Laura and Sally, like everyone else in the room, rose to their feet, clapping and whooping. Sally wondered how much he could see, whether he knew she was there. Tonight he introduced himself as Fats Domino, threatening to go play ‘Blueberry Hill’ on the piano to prove it, but as the crowd cheered their support, he changed his mind, claiming he didn’t want to embarrass himself.

It felt a little like watching sports, their heads swivelling and craning to catch the action as he moved around the large stage, crouching down, kicking and punching and whirling and thrusting. Laura turned to Sally at one point, her eyes glittering in the half-light and just shook her head in amazement at what they were seeing.

As soon as Elvis started talking about his first movie, Sally’s stomach clenched and she looked to Laura like she had spoken her panic allowed. Laura responded a little slower, her eyes widening after the first line and whirling to Sally.

“We have to go down!”

Already the waves of people were crashing against the foot of the stage, Elvis leaning down to dispatch kisses and handshakes like he didn’t realise that there would never be enough and that the need would never be quenched.

“I don’t know,” Sally murmured. “Won’t that make me look needy?”

“Honey, who cares?!” Laura implored. “Look at him!”

Boy, was she looking at him, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she needed to do things differently, that she didn’t want Elvis to associate her with the woman currently sobbing as she gripped his shoulder, too overcome to be kissed. Of course, she understood the girl completely, now knowing what it feel like to be so close, but she wanted him to take her seriously. She didn’t investigate why she was suddenly so sure that he would be thinking of her at all.

“Fine, do what you want, but I’m going down there!”

Sally sipped her champagne as she watched her friend’s honey blonde chignon bob up and down through the audience. She should have gone with her, what if he saw another woman in the audience and forgot all about her? What if the moment he saw Laura’s blue eyes, he switched his affections and Sally ended up playing third wheel?

Was he waiting for her? She tried to track Laura, but she had faded in with the mass amidst the shadows and the lights at the stage. Someone handed Elvis a teddy bear and he offered it the mic like he was giving it the chance to sing. When it didn’t, he shrugged and handed it off to his friend at the back with the guitar. He didn’t wait long for her if he even was waiting, because the song finished much sooner than it had the night before, and he immediately launched into another called ‘Just Pretend’.

Sally was sitting with her chin propped in her hand, gazing at him standing with his legs apart and his shoulders tense as he belted out the notes, when Laura reappeared and plopped down into her seat. It was immediately apparent from her face that she had not received a kiss. Sally tried to mask her relief behind a look of sympathy, but didn’t think she was very convincing.

As everyone bubbled over with awe at the ending of ‘Suspicious Minds’, Elvis took a gulp of water and pretended to stagger with exhaustion. Sally glanced up as a figure appeared at their table. Joe gave her a wide toothy smile and leant in even as she was trying to keep her expression pleasant and neutral. He explained that Elvis wanted to invite her and her friend backstage. He even stepped back and stood with his hands clasped in front of him while she passed the message along to Laura, as if they would need to discuss or negotiate whether they were going. Sally let her eyes drift back to the stage as Elvis was singing ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love’, unable to grasp that that… phenomenon would soon be standing in the same room as her.

It was difficult to remember as she followed Joe and Laura, who was trotting determinedly by his side and pumping him for information in her usual way, why she had never really been a fan before. Maybe she had been a little too young when he first got famous. She couldn’t remember if she ever watched him on Milton Berle or Ed Sullivan, and by the time he had got out of the army, she had been into Ricky Nelson and Bobby Vinton before the Beatles showed up and blew everyone’s minds.

Sally blinked as she became aware that Joe was glancing back at her as they navigated the labyrinthine corridors. Laura looked over her shoulder too, frowning.

“Sorry, I was miles away, what was that?”

“I asked if you enjoyed the show?” Joe asked again, grinning like he knew the cause of her distraction.

“Oh yes, it was amazing! I don’t know how he manages to do all that twice a night though! He must get exhausted!”

“Oh, he enjoys it,” Joe returned. “Plus, he has a lot of energy naturally, you know.” She was glad he didn’t give her a nudge and a wink even though she could still feel them there at the periphery.

“You might want to think about your favourite part,” he continued, nodding to a few men in suits who were walking past them in the opposite direction. “Your favourite song maybe, for when he asks. He loves hearing stuff like that.” Sally nodded, a little bemused at the instruction.

Back in the wood panelled dressing room, Sally spotted Cary Grant, as well as Burt Bacharach and Angie Dickinson. It felt a little like being in a museum, only the attractions were not protected behind glass. It seemed crazy that just anyone could walk up and touch Cary Grant. Then she realised that she couldn’t even bring herself to look at him directly and figured he was probably okay.

“Can I get you ladies a drink?” Joe asked, snapping his fingers at a man with sleepy-looking eyes. “Richard! A drink for the ladies?”

The way the man rushed over made Sally panic and she just asked for the same as Laura, not hearing what it was until she was sipping what she thought was orange juice and the vodka burnt her mouth.

“Don’t look now, but I think that’s Mary Tyler Moore. I said don’t look!” Laura hissed, swiping her arm with the back of her hand. Sally winced, rubbing her bicep as she looked for a place to discreetly stow her drink. “People are going to think we’re rubes with you rubbernecking everyone!”

“You’re the one hitting me!” Sally returned in a low voice, but Laura never got the chance to reply because the door to the inner dressing room opened and Elvis emerged to good natured cheering and applause. Looking unbearably handsome in a dark blue suit, he grinned and rolled his eyes before reaching out to shake someone’s hand.

“He’s there!” Laura muttered, sounding like her teeth were gritted.

“I know, be cool,” Sally replied softly. She spotted a table next to the couch as the person standing in front of it moved forward to greet Elvis, and she sidled over and slid her glass onto it, using her napkin to wipe the vodka taste from her tongue.

Just like before, he made the rounds, almost as if he had a little map in his mind. She watched his eyes scanning the room and smiled as they fell upon her finally. He pointed a long finger at her and strode over with his jaw clenched. The sound that came out of her mouth was half-laugh half-panicked whimper.

“There you are! You stood me up, woman, we had a date!” She felt her face flicker in confusion and that obviously tickled him as he burst out laughing and grabbed her hands, yanking her closer to him. “I can’t keep dragging out that song, honey, I’ve already been singing the damn thing for too long as it is. What happened, why didn’t you come get your kiss?”

“I didn’t realise there was one waiting for me,” she replied. “I thought I used up my ration yesterday.”

“Ration? Baby, there ain’t no rationing goin’ on round here.” He adjusted his grip on her hands, tugging them down and in so that she almost chest bumped him, making it look to everyone around them like she couldn’t help swooning into his arms. He smirked down at her. “Hi.”

“Good evening,” she replied demurely, fighting the fierce pull at the corners of her mouth. “Fancy running into you here.”

“Yeah, how ‘bout that. So, about this here kiss...” His face was incredibly close to hers, Sally could see the pores, the shadow of stubble, and the creases in his lips. It felt a little like she was sinking into the floor, something was moving beneath, around, inside her. The sound of someone clearing their throat made her start to turn, but his hand shot up and grasped her chin, drawing her back to him. “Wait, this is important.”

Before she could start thinking up a clever response to that, his warm lips were pressed against hers and she inhaled in surprise, taking in his salty, spicy warmth even as he was wrapping his arms around her shoulders and squeezing her against him. He kissed her so long that she actually started to panic that she might suffocate, her hand gripping his jacket in a fist, unsure of whether she was trying to break free or pull him closer.

“And there’s more where that came from, don’t you worry about that,” he murmured, his large hand sliding around her waist and pulling her into his side.

Sally struggled to focus on Laura’s face as she saw her friend staring at the two of them. She was pretty sure they both looked as stunned as each other.

“Um, this is my friend, Laura,” she managed finally, waving her hand in her direction. Elvis smiled his dazzling smile and shook Laura’s hand. Sally could feel his thumb rubbing just beneath her breast as his hand hooked onto her waist. It almost burnt, she was so aware of every part of him touching her.

“You know, I went up to the stage tonight,” Laura said, her eyes looking especially wide and blue tonight, “but I didn’t manage to get a kiss.”

“Sorry, honey,” Elvis replied with a bland, polite closed-mouth smile. “You know, RCA Victor were recording the show for an album, they’d probably sue me for breach of contract if all they got was an hour of lip smacking.” Sally prickled with sympathy watching Laura deflate in real time, but Elvis didn’t seem to notice, turning his dark blue eyes back on her.

“So, where’d you girls come from? Where’ve you been hiding?”

Even being asked such mundane and basic questions was intoxicating when blanketed with all that charisma and backed up with that face focusing intently on her. Sally found herself drivelling on about her small town, and the bank she worked for, but he did seem interested or at least really good at faking it.

“What about you?” she heard her mouth asking before she could stop it. It was a bit like asking Jesus or Mickey Mouse where they came from. There wasn’t a soul on earth that didn’t already know the answers. She could feel Laura’s incredulous look without seeing it, but Elvis didn’t seem fazed by the question and answered it straight.

“Well, I’m from Memphis, but I’m only living back there about fifty percent of the time right now, other fifty percent in LA. We go back and forth quite a bit. And obviously I work here, at the hotel.” His eyes twinkled slightly.

“Wait a minute, don’t tell me, you’re a waiter right?” she joked lamely, trying to make up for her stupid question.

“Oh Sally honey, you gotta work your way up to those kinds of cushy jobs. Nah, Kirk keeps us chained up in the basement and feeds us to the wolves for a month or so every now and again.”

“Do you like it?” she asked, sensing something in his tone that she couldn’t put her finger on. “Playing here in Las Vegas?”

“Well, that all depends,” he replied, his eyebrow twitching playfully. “What d’you think of the show?”

“I loved it,” she replied. “When you sang 'Bridge Over Troubled Water’ I got chills, no kidding.”

It seemed like Joe’s advice was right on the money, as a grin spread across Elvis’ face and it made her stomach fizz with pleasure that she had the power to give him such joy.

“Chills huh,” he murmured, his hand moving from her waist to the small of her back and slowly sliding up. She shuddered, which looked like it absolutely delighted him. “Looks like I don’t even need to sing. Although…” He angled his head, leaning in so that his nose grazed her temple, and he started softly singing the first lines of the song.

Sally’s cheeks throbbed with heat, and she could feel the blush tingle in her scalp before it spread through her body, making her palms sweat and her knees knock. He drew back slightly to check her reaction and exhaled a laugh, reaching up to cup her face.

“Aw, honey, you look so cute all pink like that.” He pressed his lips to the tip of her nose, letting them brush down over the edges of her lips until he was kissing her again. She knew what to expect this time and surged forward too, inching out her tongue to brush against his lower lip, then the tip of his tongue. It was slow and sensual and she completely forgot they were in a room full of celebrities and her own friend watching them.

“I want you to come to the party upstairs,” he said in a conversational tone, though his lips were close enough to tickle hers as he spoke. She didn’t even attempt to focus on him, his face was a blur of skin and lips.

“Then you’d probably have to ask me,” she returned. She cringed inwardly. She might have spoken that way to one of the boys in the bars back home, but this was Elvis Presley. If she wasn’t careful he was going to drop her like a used Kleenex and move on to a nicer, less try-hard funny girl with a better understanding of what was appropriate.

“Come to my party,” she watched his lips say. “Bring your friend. You’ll both be completely safe, I promise. You can trust me.”

There was something very endearing about him thinking they might be reticent about going upstairs to a man’s hotel room. She couldn’t imagine any girl hesitating at the invitation or worrying that he might have ulterior motives. They might have worried that he didn’t have ulterior motives…

The men in his group did an efficient job of getting rid of the rest of the guests, with Elvis reminding everyone of the party up in his suite. Sally wished she hadn’t bounced awake at six thirty that morning, remembering the smooth heat of his lips. She had no idea how she would stay awake.

Compared to the guest areas of the hotel, the staff corridors were decidedly bland and clinical. Sally and Laura’s floor was decorated in a Scottish style with tartan and stone finishes and heather printed on the wallpaper. Walking from the dressing rooms to the elevators felt more like traversing a hospital than a glamorous hotel resort in Las Vegas. The decoration was provided by the entertainers themselves, she supposed, as she sneaked a look at the man at her side. Laura was on her other side, but she didn’t turn because she didn’t want to see those judging raised eyebrows again.

Elvis stopped humming suddenly and turned slightly as they approached the end of the corridor.

“You do something different to your hair, honey?” Sally reached up as if she needed reminding that she had hair.

“Oh yeah, we went to the hotel salon today.”

Back in their hotel room, the amount of back-combing had looked ridiculous, as if she had a wedding cake for hair, but out and about in the hotel it actually helped her blend in.

“It’s pretty,” he remarked, giving her a wink. She sucked in air and tried to continue walking in the straight line, wondering how she was going to survive the night.

It was not quite the intimate, sophisticated get-together that Sally imagined and fretted over in the elevator ride. First Elvis gave them both a tour of the penthouse suite, which was less of a hotel suite and more of a hotel floor. It quickly became clear that the living situation resembled something like a well-furnished, luxurious frat house.

As they walked out of the bedroom suite with its bed on a pedestal and mirrored ceiling, they passed one of Elvis’ men sitting with his feet up on an expensive looking smoked glass table. Without breaking stride, Elvis kicked out at the guy’s legs, knocking them off the table and shooting him an irritated look over his shoulder.

Someone asked Sally and Laura if they would like something to eat, but Sally didn’t have much of an appetite. She was too nervous and overwhelmed finding herself under the spotlight as she perched on the sofa, Elvis sprawled beside her with his leg pressed against hers and his arm stretched out along the back of the sofa behind her. He was constantly in motion, his legs jiggling, fingers tapping, leaning forward and then dropping back again. Sitting beside him felt almost like being on a fairground ride.

Gradually, more and more people arrived and Elvis was getting up more and more to go greet them and make small talk and charm them in that seemingly effortless way he had.

After a while, Sally realised that she had been sitting alone almost for the past hour just looking at all the action happening around her. Laura had gone off in search of more interesting people to talk to.

There were celebrities here and there, but there were also lots of fans, people wanting to give Elvis things, to pose for a picture with him, to just talk to him for a moment. Sally recognised the glow in their eyes as they looked at him, she was already beginning to feel it tingle in hers as well.

“Sorry, honey, got sidetracked a little there,” he murmured, returning to her side finally. His eyes did a quick inventory of her which made her feel very warm. “You okay? You need anything? Did none of those sons of bitches even get you a drink?”

He was up and storming through the crowd before she could answer. She watched him have a short exchange with one of his guys, the short one that played with him on stage- Charlie, she recalled. Elvis was gesticulating quite a bit and he threw Charlie a dark, stone-faced glare that made Sally’s stomach drop, but then he was off again, further than she could see. Charlie’s head dropped momentarily and then he moved off in the opposite direction, hidden by guests.

A minute or so late, Elvis reappeared with a drink for her and a smile back on his face. He sat down, shuffling closer to her even though there was no one else sitting on the sofa.

“You know,” he informed her in a conspiratorial whisper, “I don’t know who most of these people are.”

“You don’t know the people at your own party?” she asked. He had a strange little half smile on his face as he scanned the room. A smile that was not a smile.

“They seem to know me,” he shrugged. “So I play along.” He glanced at her face and whatever he saw there made him scrunch his nose slightly and change his demeanour. “Let me guess, everyone who comes to your parties is your best friend, right?”

“I’ve only ever had one party,” she admitted, looking down and smoothing her skirt across her lap. That only lasted a second, because the way he kept his jiggling leg pressing up against her immediately mussed it up again. “I spent the whole night in the restroom crying because I was worried someone might not be enjoying themselves. I was thirteen.” He laughed slightly, pulling an adorable face of amused sympathy as he cupped her chin.

“That is just about the cutest damn thing I ever heard! Did they? Have a good time?”

“Apparently, yeah. There was a band and the food was catered. They couldn’t get me to come out so they could sing ‘Happy Birthday’, but my mother cut the cake and it went down really well.”

“And you just hid the whole time?”

“Yeah. After a while, I was just so embarrassed that I couldn’t face going out there and I didn’t want to spoil anyone’s good time by making them feel like they had to cheer me up. It was okay. At the end, after everyone left, my boyfriend came and we had a dance right there in the hall, in the middle of all the mess and in the dark. That’s what I really remember now.”

“Your boyfriend, huh,” he commented, twitching an eyebrow.

“I was thirteen,” she said with a grin. “We just held hands.”

He reached down and pressed his hand against her palm, sliding his fingers between hers. She grinned up at him, thinking he was teasing her, but he was smiling slightly to himself as he looked down at their hands entwined.

“I’ll tell you something,” he said, still addressing her hand. “I-I think you had the right idea at your party. You wanna go hide, honey?” She frowned and then nodded. She would have agreed to anything he suggested while brushing his thumb across her skin.

He hummed the Mission Impossible theme to himself as he pulled her up and through the crowd, smiling and nodding to people as they clapped him on the shoulder or touched his arm. He didn’t stop for anyone.

It was only when he was closing the door of his bedroom that she realised what she had agreed to, and the realisation must have shown on her face as he faltered slightly walking over to her.

“You okay?” he asked. “You don’t have to be scared, honey, I’d never… I’d never do anything to hurt you. You can trust me, all right?” She smiled quickly and nodded, but it didn’t erase the faint line between his brows. “We can go back out there if you want..?” He turned towards the door and she took advantage of his distraction to tiptoe forward so that when he turned back she was right under his nose. He started and stepped back, making her giggle.

“Goddamn, you’re light on your feet! Did you float over here?” He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her up against him, walking her back towards the bed. At the last minute, he paused and she got about a second of forewarning as she realised what he was about to do before he twisted and dropped backwards onto the bed with her in his arms. She rolled onto her stomach and looked down at him, marvelling over his perfect profile, his lashes, his lips, his golden skin.

“Aren’t you tired?” she asked. “If I had done everything you’d done on stage tonight, twice, I don’t think I’d be able to keep my eyes open now, let alone walk around charming everyone.”

“You think I’m charming?” he countered with a smirk.

“Well, those people out there seemed to think so,” she replied, hitching a shoulder.

“But not you.” He looked younger staring up at her, reminding her of the ubiquitous image of him, all curled lip and heavy-lidded eyes.

“I don’t know, I guess I’m a tougher nut to crack.” She had to work hard not to smile, because just having his eyes upon her made her want to grin like a lunatic.

“Oh, a challenge,” he returned, biting his lip as he considering his next move. “You better be careful, honey, I play to win.” And with that, he shot up and went to grab her, but she laughingly shrieked and leapt up off the bed. She didn’t get far before he got hold of her again and threw her back on the bed. Her heart fluttered as he climbed up onto the mattress on his knees, reaching for her feet.

“Don’t know if I should be taking these off, at least they slow you down some,” he remarked, as he slipped off her heels. “Aw, but ain’t these the cutest itty bitty feet!”

Forgetting herself and her tiny mini skirt, Sally snatched her foot away, hiding it with her hands.

“What, no, don’t hide ‘em away, baby, they’re pretty!”

Amidst all the tussling over her feet, they somehow started kissing and Sally quickly forgot about her feet, about running, about the two of them being alone in the bedroom.

As Elvis deepened the kiss, Sally yielded, wrapping her arms around his waist and submitting to the way he was bending her backwards. She tried to keep her eyes open, to wonder at the perfection of his face, his skin, his lips, but it was just all too much and her eyes kept squeezing shut for her own protection. That was why it was only when the cool air made her shiver that she noticed that he drawn back slightly. She opened her eyes and saw that he wasn’t looking at her anymore.

For a panicked moment she thought that maybe someone else had walked into the bedroom, but the door was in front of her. She turned.

“What is it?” she murmured. She felt his warm hand settle at the base of her neck, delicate fingers resting against her shoulder blade.

“Just look at that,” he replied softly. They were looking straight at their reflection in the mirrors set into the headboard. “What d’you think of that?” She studied her wide-eyed expression and her puffy lips, the red burn around her mouth from all the kissing, and kissing, and kissing. And then, angled slightly behind her, the rock star with his rumpled hair (She bit her lip sheepishly) and his used, swollen lips, his dark blue suit all askew.

“it looks like a picture on a poster outside the movie theatre my mother said we were never allowed to go to because it was for bad men,” she remarked. She watched in the mirror as he registered her words and dropped backwards onto the bed, laughing deeply. She met the eyes of her own reflection, flushed with a triumphant smile at surprising him.

“Hey, c’mere you!” He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her backwards on top of him, his attraction was undeniable and persistent as it prodded her in the back of her thigh. She lost all hope for her hair, her dress, her reputation and her heart as he rolled her in some sort of wrestling move, grunting and growling until he was lying on top of her, crushing her into the mattress.

You ever go and see one of those movies, you naughty girl?” he asked, the air from his mouth fluttering against her throbbing lips.

“Of course not, I’m a good girl,” she replied, her hand sliding down his side, fingertips grazing the high, round arc of his ass. He shuddered and wriggled his hips against her in a devastatingly pleasurable way. When he propped himself up on one hand, his thickly lashed eyes took her in with what looked like microscopic focus. She could feel the blush intensifying again.

“Hmm, I bet you are,” he murmured, his eyes searching hers before dropping down to her lips again.

Sally had never known a man to enjoy kissing so much, or to be so good at it. Usually, it was treated like the appetiser, the sweetener that the guy tosses to the girl before he pursues what he really wanted all along. Not so with Elvis. He touched her, sure, stroked and patted and rubbed, but it didn’t make her feel the way the way she normally did. Like they were trying to tear open the packaging.

Ironically, she was trembling with need for him, her fingers gripping his jacket and her body pressed tightly against his, wanting to get closer, to get tighter. Despite the air conditioner humming away, she could feel sweat trickling down her spine and her temple, and her core ached.

“I think it’s about time we got comfortable,” he mumbled into her lips, smoothing her hair away from her face tenderly. “You want me to find you something to wear, honey?”

“To wear?” she echoed dumbly, drunk on his touch, his mouth, his taste.

“Well, we can’t go to bed with you in that get-up,” he grinned. “I won’t get no sleep with you looking like that next to me.” Oh. Oh.

“Elvis, I’m not staying over.”

“Yes, you are,” he mumbled against her cheek and down her jaw.

“I can’t stay. I want to, believe me, but I can’t. I have rules… You have to have rules or people don’t respect you.” His mouth was on the crook of her neck, his lips and tongue caressing the sensitive skin there, but as her words sank in, he pulled back sharply.

“Don’t be playing games with me, woman.”

It physically hurt her to stand her ground, her heart clenched so tightly as she registered his cool, annoyed expression. However, whether it was Elvis or Bob from sales, a girl had to give herself value because no one else would. At least, that’s what her mother had taught her.

“I’m not, I would never,” she promised. “I… I really like you, but we hardly know each other.”

“Ain’t that what we’re doing? You can’t get to know me if you ain’t here.” He sat back with an almost blank expression on his face, something she had not seen before.

He was right, how else do you get to know someone other than by spending time with them? But staying with a man overnight, sleeping in the same bed, that required intimacy even if they didn’t have sex, which she doubted, because she couldn’t quite imagine Elvis Presley the sex symbol just wanting to cuddle and go straight to sleep!

“That’s not what- I think I should go.” She just couldn’t think straight around him, and the longer she sat facing him with his displeasure so obvious the faster she knew she was going to cave. And if she gave in she thought she might have one great night with him, but that would be it.

“So go,” he said edgily. “The door ain’t locked. No one’s begging you to stay.”

Stomach aching, Sally rose from the bed, her brain screaming at her to stop the entire time. She wasn’t exactly sure what was powering her limbs or giving her the strength to stick to her convictions. Looking at his face, she couldn’t even verbalise what those convictions were anymore.

“I had a really good time tonight,” she said tentatively, swallowing against the lump in her throat. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry that I can’t stay.” He didn’t reply and she hovered, unable to bring herself to actually walk out of the door. Finally, before she lost her nerve, she ducked down and pecked his cheek, before turning and rushing out of the room with her eyes blurring.

Sally stood in the elevator, listening to the muzak and struggling to hold in what felt like a waterfall behind her eyes. She stared at the wood panelling, fiercely studying the rings in the wood. She counted the tiles on the floor and thought through the last ten minutes, wondering what she could have done differently. It had just seemed to go wrong so suddenly and so dramatically.

The first fat tear plopped onto the floor as she jammed her key into her door and rammed it open with her hip. Laura was sitting on her bed, her hair in curlers and a scarf, chatting away on the phone.

“Hey Sal, you’ll never guess-”

Sally rushed into the bathroom and grabbed a washcloth to cry into. The last thing she wanted was to hear about that guy from the pool finally calling Laura back, but Laura could not being deterred, knocking on the door incessantly.

Finally, drained of tears and rapidly refilling with fury, Sally threw open the bathroom door. She knew how terrible she looked by the way Laura took a step backwards.

“What?”

“The phone, it was for you.” She held out the receiver wordlessly.

Frowning, Sally pressed it to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Okay, what d’you wanna know?”

Stunned, she tried to comprehend what was happening, her body chose the perfect time to let out one of those pathetic post-sob session shudders.

“Elvis? I don’t-”

“Honey, ask me anything you want and I’ll do my best to answer. We’ll get to know each other. And you’ll stay with me tomorrow night. Deal?”

“Deal,” she conceded, hearing her stuffy nose and swollen face in her muffled voice.

#elvis presley #elvis fanfic #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley fanfic #elvis x oc #70s elvis #whositmcwhatsit

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thisismeracing · 5 months

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komh thots

sir lewis carl davidson hamilton would officiate the union of his dear little sister and his co worker

they announce they're engaged and lewis is signing up to be an ordained minister, they cant stop him

in a similar vein, gina is making herself maid of honor and seb is making himself best man

one of my og thots was estie being best man but then i remembered the 5'9" 4x wdc german man and how he is one of mick's closest friends

i can see george william russell worming his way into being in the wedding party as a groomsman and him dragging carmen into the wedding party as well

and then we can have roscoe as ring bearer and angie as flower girl

WAIT LAURA MAGNUSSEN AS FLOWER GIRL ALONGSIDE ANGIE AND JACK WOLFF AS A FELLOW RING BEARER ALONGSIDE ROSCOE

half of the wedding party invited themselves in, but mickyn wouldnt have it any other way

because these are the people they love and they are happy that they are so adament on being part of their special day

☕

OMG OMG LARA JACK ROSCOE AND ANGIE 😭😭😭😭 the quartet we stan!

Lewis would def sign to be the official

Seb to best man, totally!!! Especially because he 1) helped lewis get the license to officiate the wedding and 2) helped mick with the proposal. He’s mick’s and lewis’ bestie and they def hang out whenever they can.

I have to add that I think mickyn would get married in secret though 👀 like, a small trip with just direct family, their parents, and siblings. It would be a small ceremony, maybe they rented a private beach because Yn always wanted to get married at the beach but she also wanted to do the whole church thing and you know how mick would do anything for her right? So he rented a portion of a beach Yn always talked about, and they spent a week there. It’s small, and intimate, everything party-related was either handmade by them or brought from locals. her dress was handmade by locals artisans too (corinna got everything ready and just surprised yn with it) and baby blue, it matched mick’s eyes and the water and sky behind them in the pictures. their families would spend a day after the ceremony and then fly back home leaving the two to enjoy a small honeymoon. once they get back home everyone is a bit sus because the whole hamilton and schumacher family went mia for a week, and then mick and yn show up all giddy (more than ever), and it's not hard to find, but only because they decide to tell their friends, and set an official date for the big party. It will take six months or so, they’ll get married in a church, following the rites, yn wearing a white dress, mick a tux, seb best man, jack, and laura bearing the rings, roscoe and angie with the flowers, charles will play the piano, he’ll probably gift them with a special composition, danny will have his camera around his neck all smiley and wavey registering some moments, and lando will play dj at the party. It will be HUGE as you can imagine, the whole grid, and people that work with them on a regular basis, even rihanna and asap rocky attended bc reader loves them and of course they wouldnt pass an invitation from the hamiltons (now a schumacher-hamilton)

I guess I got carried away 🤭 but yeah now you got me thinking about mickyn wedding and I- 😩😵‍💫🥹

#komh #hamilton!reader #millies inbox #☕️ anon #ms47 #thots #mick schumacher #f1 x reader

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verysium · 3 months

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what do you read in your spare time? you’re one of the most eloquent users i know, id love to hear how you find the media you consume and what your favorites are

omg ei 😊 welcome back to the inbox! thank you for your sweet words although i'm probably not qualified enough to be considered the full definition of eloquent. i am going to preface this post by saying that i definitely don't read as much as i should, so this list is not going to be comprehensive whatsoever. the last time i even visited an in-person library was like half a decade ago, and since then my spare time has been nonexistent lmao. anyways, here are some of my favorite/most recent reads as listed by author:

POETRY

richard siken: i think siken is already well-known both in the literary world and in whatever booktok deems is popular culture. if you don't already know him though, he is best known for his poetry collection crush, which delves into themes of obsession, gay love, and violent eroticism. i actually read this chapbook unknowingly. as in i was hounding sketchy pdf download sites at 3 AM and saw a man with bloodied lips on the cover and decided to read it. he basically became my summer fever dream after that. the way he juxtaposes images is seamless, smoother than water. only richard siken can talk about violence without making it sound violent. i also enjoyed his other poetry collection war of the foxes, especially "portrait of fryderyk in shifting light." i think light is a common motif throughout most of his poems, and he manipulates it effortlessly. the most recent piece i read from him is "piano lesson." i have nothing left to say that he didn't already say, so i would just recommend reading it for yourself. he is the og big brain when it comes to word play.

ocean vuong: he's unforgettable, and i mean that literally because nobody forgets a person named ocean. time is a mother was exactly what the name suggests: an exploration of grief, loss, and the rewind of time after his mother's death. some of the poems are almost cinematic in quality. "künstlerroman" is my favorite because it feels exactly like watching a video tape in reverse. i think his most famous work is "someday i'll love ocean vuong." it was the first piece i ever read from him, and to this day, it remains my comfort poem.

silas denver melvin: i only recently discovered him through his chapbook grit. i think he's also on tumblr @/sweatermuppet. he writes a lot on the trans experience, and his work gives me a mix of southern gothic and country vibes. would definitely read his other publications if i had the time.

chen chen: one thing about chen chen is that he always comes to devour. my favorite works from him are "self-portrait as so much potential" and "song of the anti-sisyphus." you have to put on your thinking cap for some of his poems, but once you grasp the meaning, everything makes sense all at once.

franny choi: "disaster means without a star" was the entire inspiration behind my first rin fic. i relate to her more personally in regards to the diaspora experience, but her collections are worth reading in general because of the sheer quality.

pages matam: his poem "piñata" was what got me into slam poetry. his work mostly consists of political commentary which i feel is particularly relevant in today's social climate. "on learning america's english" also resonates with people who have encountered the entire losing/learning immigrant tongues experience.

laura lamb brown-lavolie: i've only read one spoken word poem from her, and tbh i only needed to read one. "on this the 100th anniversary of the sinking of the titanic, we reconsider the buoyancy of the human heart" is my two-headed calf poem. one day i will get this tattooed.

brendan constantine: once again, this was the result of me being chronically online coupled with the boredom of an august heat wave. i found "the opposites game" through TED. honestly, i was a bit unsure about it at first, but it's a cute little poem that makes you really delve into the intricacies of craft.

TEEN POETRY & PROSE

yasmeen khan: she could mouth her words onto every square inch of my body, and i would still be coming back for more. ingraining them into flesh is not enough. "movie stars" is by far my favorite work from her. she writes about femininity and womanhood so profoundly. it's tragic, but really i wouldn't have it end any other way.

kaya dierks: her writing is basically middle-of-nowhere small town stoner teenage life but personified. "crushed" is my favorite piece from her. the soundtrack for this work was definitely by ethel cain, and you cannot convince me otherwise.

FICTION

madeline miller: i was first introduced to her when i read the song of achilles. let's just say that book had me nonverbal for the greater half of three months. it was my metaphorical hatchet. i buried it once, and i never want to dig it up again. i read circe a few years later. the first time was during the blue hour at an airport, right between one red-eye flight and another transfer. i don't even remember that experience because i was heavily sleep-deprived. i read it again recently for a literature course, this time for academic analysis. overall, i enjoy the the heroine-centric narrative. typically, i'm a bit wary of novels with heavy feminist themes because they either project their agenda too strongly or they run the risk of misrepresentation. circe doesn't exactly have that problem. it was more about empowerment and less about exercising power over others.

charlotte brontë: as a historical figure, brontë was questionable, but jane eyre most certainly was not. that book rewired my brain, and that is saying something because i have never read any classic by choice. and it is so important to me that jane was the ugliest, plainest girl you could ever imagine. also cus i unironically enjoy angst, and this book was full of dramatic misunderstandings.

yoko ogawa: i love japanese literature, so there is no reason not to include this one here. "a peddler of tears" is one of my favorite short stories. i did not expect the ending at all, but it was welcome. something about violence, body gore, and dismemberment being framed as romantic and semi-erotic just gets to me. sign me the hell up. hotel iris is a hit-or-miss with some people. either you like the fact that art makes you uncomfortable or you shut it down completely. for me, i was alright with exploring some of its darker themes, but read at your own discretion.

NONFICTION

ross gay: he lives up to his name both in optimism and in carefree joy. probably one of my favorite creative nonfiction authors simply based off the accessibility of his writing style. easy to read and understand but still hits you with the full force of a semi-truck. i would recommend his book inciting joy. it's a collection of essays that delve into grief, but since this is ross gay, he makes it seem like a quintessential part of life.

paul kalanithi: sixteen-year-old me was mind blown by him cus before that doctors were shrewish old men with bald spots and sterile coats, not poetic surgeons who dissected the anatomy of word and recited t.s. eliot in the most heart-wrenching way possible. he is everything i want to become in both life and death. when breath becomes air literally does take your breath away.

#asks #moots ♡

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