#never beating those too beautiful to be real allegations

[anotherdescentintomadness]

Backless Xiao Zhan

#Xiao zhan #fanart #my art #our boy showing off his assets #as he should #never beating those too beautiful to be real allegations #i love him your honor

[sharlsworld]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ i heard - ʟɴ4 ☆

✿ lando norris x influencer!reader (everyone gasped)

✿ lando norris has a crush on a certain influencer and his friends are on a mission to help him get the girl

🝮

yn

📍los angeles, california

liked by landonorris and 3,935,027 others

yn sun kissed 🌞

landonorris first

landonorris 😍😍😍

⤷ maxfewtrell 3 heart eyes??

flowers444yn what tf is lando norris doing in my gf’s comments?

lando.norizz he’s never beating the norizz allegations

alexandrasaintmleux let me take you out on my boat girl 🤤

⤷ charles_leclerc You mean my boat?

⤷ alexandrasaintmleux go away

⤷ yn i’ll be waiting 😉

zendaya Simply stunning 🤩

♥︎ by author

jacobelordi 😍

♥︎ by author

hearts4lando how do the wags know her?

⤷ ynsource she’s been invited to a few races by ferrari and mercedes so the wags must’ve introduced themselves there

judebellingham Beautiful 😍

♥︎ by author

⤷ yn 🥰

⤷ landowantsrizz STOP POOR LANDO CANT EVEN GET A LIKE 😭

lilymhe damn girl let me wife you up 🤤

⤷ yn please do 😫

🝮

yn

📍monaco

liked by landonorris and 5,902,528 others

yn monaco will always have my heart

landonorris first

♥︎ by author

landonorris can i have it next?

♥︎ by author

alexandrasaintmleux need your hair 😍😫

♥︎ by author

gigihadid i miss you gorgeous 💓

⤷ yn i miss you more 💘

francisca.cgomes why not the picture of you double cheeked up? 🤤🤤

⤷ yn kika 😭😭 please

pierregasly can i have my shirt that i did not know was missing until now back?

⤷ francisca.cgomes no she wears it better

⤷ pierregasly wow ok then.

michaelbjordan 😍

♥︎ by author

⤷ yn everyone SHUT UP IM GLITCHING

⤷ landolovesyn poor lando 😭😭

landonorris please just give me one chance

♥︎ by author

⤷ yn 😭😭

⤷ landonorris i’ll take that as a maybe 🥰

carlossainz55 I would like to apologize for lando’s behavior

⤷ yn nothing to apologize for, it’s cute

⤷ landonorris 🤩🥺🥰🤤😫😍😎🥳😱

⤷ charles_leclerc Don’t mind him, he doesn’t interact with women much…

⤷ yn i could tell

⤷ landonorris 😕😞🖤💔😖😪😢😣😔

⤷ oscarpiastri He’s genuinely tweaking rn

🝮

landonorris

liked by danielricciardo and 944,576 others

landonorris 🩷💜🤍💙🩵❤️

yn who’s all those hearts for?

⤷ landonorrris you. only you. always you.

charles_leclerc Lando looking for y/n

oscarpiastri Lando wondering where y/n is

alex_albon lando wondering what y/n is doing

alexandrasaintmleux lando thinking how to get y/n’s attention

georgerussell63 Lando thinking of y/n

carlossainz55 Lando thinking about all the gifts he’s could buy for y/n

lilymhe lando wondering how y/n slept

francisca.cgomes lando thinking of ways to impress y/n

maxfewtrell Lando wondering if y/n thinks he’s cool

🝮

yn

📍 somewhere in monaco

liked by pierregasly and 3,084,921 others

yn party of 1

landonorris first

♥︎ by author

landonorris can i make it a party of 2? :)

♥︎ by author

⤷ yn i wouldn’t mind ;)

charles_leclerc I heard lando norris saved a family of 6 from a house fire the other day

⤷ alexandrasaintmleux yeah i heard he also saved the family’s 3 dogs too

carlossainz55 Lando norris bought me a new custom ferrari yesterday

maxverstappen1 Shoutout to my boy lando norris for letting me win all those races your a real one mate

alex_albon I heard lando norris tipped 700 dollars for a 10 dollar coffee last week

oscarpiastri I heard lando norris bought 1000 dollars worth of food for a homeless shelter in Miami last year

⤷ georgerussell63 I heard he also donated a bunch of clothes to

lilymhe i heard lando norris payed for everyone’s meals at a restaurant last month

⤷ carmenmmundt Yeah I heard he does that all the time

⤷ francisca.cgomes i heard he gave 1 million to a small business today

danielricciardo Lando norris actually bought me my house

lewishamilton Lando norris bought my dog a thousand dollar blinged out collar

donatella_versace Donatella VERSACE💜

🝮

yn posted a story

replies

landonorris replied to your story

first 😁

yn as always honey

carlossainz55 replied to your story

does that party of 2 include a certain brit?

yn i don’t know who your referring to 🤔

lilymhe replied to your story

that bitch stole my girl

yn like you weren’t helping him 😭

carmenmmundt replied to your story

My little girl is growing up on me 😓

yn omg shut up 😭

francisca.cgomes replied to your story

that muppet better treat my girl right

yn don’t worry kika he will

alexandrasaintmleux replied to your story

ask him to buy you red bottoms i bet he will without thinking about it

yn stop he probably would 😭😭

🝮

landonorris posted a story

replies

yn replied to your story

you’re so cute

landonorris your the cutest 😉

you’re*

landonorris i’m sorry. you’re the cutest*

charles_leclerc replied to your story

Your welcome, I started that whole thing

landonorris thank you mate it’s very much appreciated

pierregasly replied to your story

Don’t trip mate

landonorris to late. i knocked on the door to her apartment and she invited me inside cause she was looking for her earrings and i tripped walking inside. and i did not catch myself in time.

your supposed to have fast reflexes mate 😭

landonorris yeah all that went out the window when i seen her

alexandrasaintmleux replied to your story

you better not let her touch any door handle, pull out her chair, hold her hand, give her your coat, and don’t let her peak at the bill

landonorris i wouldn’t dream of it

🝮

yn

liked by krisjenner and 11,935,776 others

yn i heard he ended world hunger or something?

landonorris first

♥︎ by author

landonorris sum slight yk

♥︎ by author

landonorris your so yummy baby 😍

♥︎ by author

charles_leclerc Once again, your welcome

⤷ yn no thank you

lilymhe damn does he not know how to keep his hands to himself?

⤷ landonorris you wouldn’t be able to if she was yours

francisca.cgomes i could treat you better

⤷ yn come over 😏

⤷ francisca.cgomes omw baby

⤷ landonorris oh!

⤷ pierregasly you get used to it

⤷ alex_albon over time you’ll just start to ignore it

⤷ charles_leclerc At a certain point you’ll have a good chuckle about it

⤷ georgerussell63 You learn to live with it

🝮

landonorris

liked by tomholland2013 and 6,213,095 others

landonorris i like when it’s you & i

yn first

♥︎ by author

yn 🤍🤍🤍

♥︎ by author

yn i like it too honey

♥︎ by author

carlossainz55 You did it cabrón 🥳

⤷ landonorris i manifested this shit

lilymhe cutest 😍 y/n not lando.

⤷ landonorris hatin for what 🤣🤣

danielricciardo Lando norris did it

⤷ charles_leclerc He got the girl

⤷ arthur_leclerc crazy son of a bitch

alex_albon bro beat the norizz allegations

⤷ georgerussell63 I guess it’s time to retire lando norizz 😞

alexandrasaintmleux she was mine first.

⤷ landonorris and now she’s all mine 🤤

maxverstappen1 This calls for celebration!

⤷ pierregasly to the club!

oscarpiastri I already can’t stand you two

francisca.cgomes she curved michael b jordan and jude bellingham for a white guy…

⤷ landonorris stay mad 🥱

mclaren Welcome to family y/n! 🧡

♥︎ by author & yn

#lando norris #f1 smau #lando norris smau #lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagine #lando norris smut #formula 1 #f1 imagine

[mafaldaknows]

you can’t blame us who joined the fandom late. we weren’t around at the beginning but you all who were told us and so surely that charmie really happened and it’s true up to now. you all had your access to armie’s friends and timmy’s will friend and jps and hint and wink at us. so we’re gonna follow bnf like you.

Hello, Anon:

I’m not sure where you got the idea that anyone is blaming you for anything.

Also, I’ve maintained that I don’t know anything for a fact regarding Charmie and do not presume that it’s true because they themselves have never confirmed it, nor do they owe us confirmation. It’s their story to tell, if they ever want to tell it. Love is love is love and comes in many forms, not just romantic love, and it’s not my place to tell anyone else’s truth. The main focus of this blog is to explore the strong connection between them, however they chose to define it, and to find signs that their close bond still exists.

I’m a seeker of truth and beauty. That’s all. I never claimed to be anything more than that, here in my little corner of the internet, as a fan, just like you, just like all the other fans in the Charmiesphere. I’m grateful that my mutuals allow me the grace and the space to stand with them on the deck of this beautiful ship despite sometimes marching to the beat of my own drum.

The premise of this blog is to look for signs of Charmie. But I never claimed to confirm it. That confirmation can only ever come from them to be valid. We are still merely spectators and speculators, like Mafalda, who always looks for signs.

Many of the signs over the years have pointed towards a specific direction, but reality points us now in another one entirely, and this time, it’s straight from the source.

In light of these recent events, we might be compelled to change course, and that’s ok. Or we might accept the circumstances and adapt. And that’s ok, too, Anon.

As far as reading the signs, generally speaking, I don’t view them as cold, hard facts but as possibilities, moments of kismet or serendipity. It’s what I mean when I say that the Universe winks. We would still need the two people involved to confirm their truth for the signs to have any real meaning. That’s how I see it, anyway.

I started this blog during the pandemic lockdown as a fun way to pass the time and then fell down the CMBYN rabbit hole, which led to an even deeper Charmie rabbit hole, which turned out to be a big, beautiful bottomless pit. It has never been my intention to mislead anyone in this space nor have I ever dictated to anyone what they should or shouldn’t believe about Charmie. These are just my own thoughts and observations about this beautiful ship, one that I recognize as a fantasy, but that also once had the very real possibility of coming true.

Once upon a time. Perhaps someday in the future. Or maybe never. Your guess is as good as mine at this point, Anon.

I write mainly about the possibilities of Charmie, not absolute facts, unless I have evidence to support those facts. When Armie was faced with false allegations, I shifted my focus to his defense. Time and evidence have proven that it was the right thing to do. Truth and Justice always win.

Love does too, when all is said and done.

That much I know is true.

Thanks for your comment. ❤️🧿

#hello anon #facts #possibilities #signs #seeker #truth and beauty #reality #truth #evidence #love always wins #everything’s gonna be alright #mafalda always looks for signs #we are all mafalda #tales from the charmiesphere #mafalda knows

[isakvaltersnake]

first watch was for me, now second watch for THOUGHTS

Act 1:

obsessed with the way they turn into each other when the cake is coming down slash how Henry slips into Alex when getting up

zahra is so hot my goD I want her to top me

Henry showing off in his fuck boy raybans and fancy vintage car YOU WANT HIM TO WANT YOU SO BAD ITS EMBARRASSING

Henry’s soul leaving his body at “Vicky 👊”

Henry being turnt by the way alex smells

Henry’s “I need to get out of here” upon first meeting alex and deeply understanding that this beautiful boy could ruin the charred remains of his heart if he let him

Henry IMPOSSIBLY AND HOPELESSLY CHARMED

straight up FUCK miguel

Henry using bitmojis is how you really textually understand he has like 1 friend

Henry is so bad at dancing oh baby you would’ve been laughed out of a middle school gym with those moves

why am I mad that everyone got low at the wrong part of the song

ALEX WANTS TO LOOK COOL IN THE RED ROOM SO BAD ITS EMBARASSING

THE LOOK WHEN HENRY LEAVES ALEXS ROOM FUUUUUUUUCKING HELL

Act 2:

the fucking polo scene. Alex so horned up, Henry so sweaty. chefs kiss

henry infinitely smoother than alex wow

only momentarily AND ALEX TOOK THAT AS A CHALLENGE

Henry playing with that fucking ring like it’s a noose around his neck

ALEX FFS ACT LIKE YOU'VE BEEN SOMEWHERE BEFORE

this sex scene actually just being a clean demonstration of two people who fill each other with so much comfort and peace engaging in a physical act of love wowwww they invented romance wtf

I do love this alex in texas side quest seeing as there wasn’t time for the book storyline

SHOULD I TELL YOU THAT WHEN WE’RE APART YOUR BODY COMES BACK TO ME IN MY DREAMS

giggling during sex is peak romance these nerds are IN LOVE

HE SAID NO SO FAST THESE NERDS ARE IN LOOOOOVE

“look at us now” and the way I yelled DIVORCED OSCAR?!

“it won’t even matter if anyone sees us” the way you could see henrys heart shatter in real time jesus

i felt myself getting too close and i didn't want to break his heart. henry, my love, baby girl, boo boo the fool.

Act 3:

BECAUSE IT COSTS YOU NOTHING. No Henry in fact this is costing me everything. Kwjakasnsnkanskamskkaksjmsbwkkss

I will not trade one prison for another SORRY THE ANGST GIRLIES ARE EATINGGGG

sorry but if the love of my life ever danced with me in a low lit museum and told me he would try to be brave for us I would simply cease to exist

low key lmao and well done @ Alex’s grip on Henry in bed cause the last time they slept together Henry snuck out in the middle of the night and ghosted him for a week straight

ngl I hate that they didn’t even get a phone call before the speech

ok so i didn't get america he is my choice but i did get i fell in love with a person who happens to be a man and that man happens to be a prince

baby he says like I haven’t been waiting like an hour and a half to hear it

Alex watching Henry play piano oh honey he is never beating the competency kink allegations

stephen fry Alex already admitted it what’s your endgame my dude

Henry leaning back to talk back to his gramps like he was going into sport mode was v sexy actually

THE FINGER TOUCHES

straight up Rachel Maddow with more lines that pez, she should’ve had her own promo

Henry with the hand hold/hand in the crook of alex’s arm combo was so baby girl of him I couldn’t be prouder

they traded the key and the ring back cause it was only til they could have all of each other again and now they can pls kill me this is the end

do you think anyone noticed? I hate him so much omfg

#rwrb spoilers #idk man it was a lot and i'm just so happy #red white and royal blue

[khaleesiofalicante]

for the writer question

6,7,13

6. What is your darkest fear about writing?

People I know in real life reading it. I'm not in any way ashamed or embarrassed of my writing. But I think writing, especially the kind of stories I write, makes me very vulnerable. It's an outlet for me to discuss things, let go of emotions, and sometimes even question myself. I really don't want people in real life reading that because I don't want them to know those things. Because I don't want them to get to know me too intimately :)

7. What is your deepest joy about writing?

That I can make people feel things. That I can make people laugh and cry and angry and horny and whatever else. It's a form of power that I hope I don't get obsessed with!

13. What is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you to write about? What is easy?

Oh, this is interesting. In terms of what's difficult, I think it's smut. It feels uncomfortable and weird and it just doesn't feel right when I write it and read it after. It feels fake almost. (never beating those asexuality allegations lmao)

However, it's definitely something I want to do (it wasn't used to be!) and I'm hoping to write my first smut fic as the rwrb au fic (send help!). Because i love writing about intimacy and relationships and for some people, sex is part of that and I want to be able to capture that in my fics too. I literally work in the area of gender, sex and sexuality. I write and talk about it openly and candidly and I'm knowledgeable about the topic! So, I really want to give this one a shot. So, watch out for the rwrb au yall! If it doesn't work out or if I don't like it, then hopefully can revisit it some other time.

Tw for rape - Something I REALLY want to write is about sexual assault. Because I work on gender-based violence and this is a topic that means so much to me and i hate the way survivors of gender-based violence are often portrayed in media. art and writing is a way in which a lot of people heal from trauma - including the writer. i have written about this a lot irl but not in a fic. Because it's so difficult for me to write in terms of who the character will be and how it will be and i don't know how to go ahead with it (i have a vague idea in my head but i don't want to put that character through that tbh) because it's such a heavy topic and i know it can be personal to so many people so i want to do right by it. if it the time and place and emotions are right, i most certainly do want to write about it one day.

What is easy to write is plot. It has always been easy, not that easy - there is a lot of work involved! - to write the plot of a fic. Especially plots that include twists and foreshadowing and parallels. I love these writing techniques a lot. It's also easy to write about relationships of all kinds - I love writing about siblings, friends, parents and even coworkers. I hope i get to write more about it.

Thanks for the beautiful asks. They were very self-reflective for me. 💙

#my writing #writing games

[faithinlouisfuture]

I started to type all of this on the night of my show but literally passed out in the middle, cuz I had been up for 23 hours at that point! Today was my flight back home. It feels surreal that I saw him just day before yesterday (yesterday for me if you account for all the time zone differences) and now I’m back in my bed thousands of miles away 😭 Literally feels like a fever dream! To get to the point though (and you know this is about to get insanely long cuz who am I if not a rambler?)

First and foremost HE IS NEVER EVER BEATING THE SUN ALLEGATIONS!!! I had been in Istanbul for a week before the show day, and the weather had been cool and cloudy and it had even rained on and off, come concert day the SUN came out in full force!!! It was the sunniest it had been all week! He literally just carries the sunshine with him 😭

About the show itself; OMG!!! I have watched every single livestream from Dallas to Mexico City n3 but nothing could have prepared me for Louis in real life. Seeing him with my own two eyes makes him even more unreal if that’s possible. He’s literally impossibly beautiful. He radiates. He’s everything! HIS VOICE. It’s so pretty 😭 it’s wind chimes on a sea side resort, it’s hummingbirds in a serene jungle, it’s gritty when it needs to be and soft when it needs to be and I just… I’m speechless but I also want to write multiple essays on the topic! If only I was eloquent enough! Livestreams truly cannot capture the real quality of it, even though he sounds so beautiful on those too, but in person it’s just, there’s this quality to it, like dripping honey and so effortlessly cool.

God he was so happy and babie!!! Ngl I was hoping I’d get a slutty Louis show but OMG he was so so so happy and babie and cheeky! And he looked so good I can’t even explain. I absolutely loved the top he wore for the show! 😍 he had the most beautiful wispy hair situation going on, his skin looked so unreal and beautiful, his tattoos in real life 😭😭😭 His bone structure!!! How is that even possible?!? The royal peach?!? EXCUSE ME SIR! With that waist, and the way he holds himself! And moves his delicate hands and pops that hip sometimes. His smile!!! It lit up the entire place!!! HIS EYES!!! like they literally sparkle like actual gems 😭 I just could go on and on and on times infinity!

It took me about 4 songs to notice that Matt wasn’t even there cuz I couldn’t peel my eyes away from Louis. (I may have peeled them away for a few seconds to oggle at Michael though - GOOD GOD. That man is hot! I have some Michael content to post too!)

And I know that so many people have already mentioned this fact before but omg his stage presence. He owns the entire space. There were tens of thousands of people there, and the crowd was insanely rowdy but the second he hits that stage - he commands every iota of your attention. The way he prowls the entire stage, at times bunny hopping, and makes sure to go to every corner, and interact with every section! Mr. Pointy Fingers as always, pointing at signs, flipping people off, being his cheeky adorable self! It was an EXPERIENCE™ seeing it all live 😭 I will never forget, I want it all tattooed on the inside of eyelids! And I truly hope that every single louie gets to experience it for themselves!

Seems like he’s gonna stick to the San Juan set list for the Asian leg. (I tried to include my track by track rambling on the show in this post but tumblr said I dont think so cuz apparently I exceeded the word limit allowed for one post 🫣 so I guess I’ll make a separate post for that even if just for myself. Cuz I want to remember it all)!

TRULY AN EXPERIENCE OF A LIFETIME. And I’m so glad that I got to share it with other solos 🤍 So glad to have met both of you in person Max & Vee! @fearlesspuff @sunshinebinx and so so thankful to have had you there throughout the waiting line torture and the gate entrance madness and then the after show freaking out! Hope we can attend future Louis concerts together some day too! x

#ltwt22: istanbul #louies at ltwt22 #this time it’s me #I’m louies 😭😭😭 #how did I ever get so lucky?!? #ltwt22 #MY SHOW #ltwt22: Louis x Emmy #louis tomlinson

[peppysinc]

F1 Tag Game! Tag some people you'd like to get to know better!

Tagged by: @thatsluttylittlesoupcanwaist

Who is your favorite driver?: gotta be Lando Norris. I am never beating the stan allegations and I recently gave up on pretending I am normal about him. :)

Do you have other favorite drivers?: I actually like the majority of the grid. I don't take the world of F1/the driving quality and rivalries super seriously, which might be kind of a heretical thing to say. If I did, I would be a “real fan” I think.

Here is a list: Oscar (I like him about as much as Lando, but I’m normal about him), Alex!, George is my princess, Valtteri Bottas’s Uber ad was insane.

Who is your least favorite driver?: Esteban!! But I want to like him so much! Why does he have to eat up his teammates for breakfast :'{

Do you pull for drivers or do you like teams as well?: I do pull for teams, but I don't know enough about the individuals on the team, how they contribute, and their day to day work/design process. If I did, I think I would be pulling harder.

If you like teams, what teams do you pull for?: McLaren

How long have you been into F1?: Since March 2024. I’m VERY NEW lol.

What got you into F1?: many years ago I saw Charles Leclerc somewhere and thought to myself: “wow he is beautiful! Who is he?… a race car driver, cool.” And forgot about it. Then, I saw Formula 1 started blowing up on Tumblr, and then forgot about it again. Then I came across this YouTube video recommended to me when I was having work depression, and decided to watch.

THE MEMES! IMPECCABLE! The TEAM PRINCIPALS it’s like DANCE MOMS! I ate that up so hard and was like “Damn it now I need the memes.” They make life worth living when you’re trying not to take everything so seriously. Fernando Alonso? YES.

Do you enjoy fanfic/RPF?: yes, but I’m not a fan of self insert fics. Otherwise, I’m never beating the RPF allegations. I’d like to make a master post of my fav LandOscar ones at some point because the quality is just unmatched.

How do you view new fans?: THE MORE THE MERRIER!!

Are your friends and family into F1 as well?: No, but I managed to get some of my friends addicted to the memes too and one of them is now obsessed with Carlos Sainz. I showed my mom many pictures of Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri and she understood the vision 😆

If you could take over as team principal for any team , who would it be and why?: probably Williams. I want to know what the hell is going on with their team??? Why are Logan and Alex suffering?? Haas as well, Stake F1, any of those guys.

Are you open to talking to other fans/making friends?: Yes! My chat is open… enter if you dare…

Tagging: @inchidentally @penaltyboxboxbox @chelemlem @alphatinies @ipleadbritney @ocontraire

#f1 #tag game

[yamatossideboob]

One Piece 1099 spoilers!

I put off doing this yesterday bc qf the aged-up child Bonney aspect just nauseates me. It's unnecessary and creepy and just doesn't add anything that wasn't done already and better. By this I mean the 'forced to grow up while still a child' aspect that I assume Oda is going for, which was done much more powerfully and much less creepily with Momonosuke, literally and figuratively! Unless next week and beyond really turn things around, this just damages Bonney's character so much, jfc Oda.

ahem. Let's see what else this chapter offers:

The cover pages is admittedly very good

so we don't even get to see how Bonney got her fruit 8T Oda is not beating the allegations!!

so the whole Kuma the Tyrant angle is just WG hearsay backed by tabloid media. makes sense lol. This is less interesting than what could have been with Kuma's character but tbqh I'm just glad he's not like that lmao.

Also ngl when I saw the Paw Paw 'Splosion I assumed Kuma just Mountbattened Bekori to smithereens, but nah.

Old prune Bonney messing with Connie is cute 🥺

I respect pacifism when it's integral to a person or character's being, but in fiction and real life it's just. not practical and often not admirable lmfaoooooooo

I do love this bit with Kuma visiting places he would later send the Strawhats. Also, actual bounty hunters! (I'll never not be a little miffed that they didn't have a bigger role in OP, but I can hardly complain)

DRAGON AND THE BESTIES HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

I really do love the back n forth between Kuma, Dragon and Betty, esp the captain bit... idk what Dragon's been up to off-page all these years but little touches like this really sell what he's clearly meant to be.

YAY KOALA MENTION also Sabo too I guess

sigh... I do appreciate that we see Bonney training to take on the seas one day, even if it won't be like she hoped it would. In retrospect this helps sells how she became one of the Worst Generation later on.

BONNEY IN A BOX. BONNEY IN A BOX!!!

She's right though, Vegapunk's original head has always squicked me a little... *shudders*

That tiny bit between Sentomaru and Bonney is very cute 🥺🫶

Oda Says Fund Stem Cell Research!

srs though what a peculiar term to see in OP imo lol

okay here we're getting a hint at just how Vegapunk could stand to make all those weapons and such for the WG while claiming to be working for humanity's good... morality and ambition are not glad bedmates....

Though I can well say similar about Kuma... deal with the devil indeed....

and so a terrible beauty is born...

Another chapter is scheduled for next week, but with the condition of the last installment (and possibly Oda), I'll not count eggs etc. Hopefully the usual break was what Oda needed, and the SJ winter break is around the corner... I really hate this industry lads.

Til next time 💪✖️

#live from ohara #op spoilers

[interstellar-changkyun]

you’re jealous | monsta x ot7 reactions

maybe some smut ;)

shownu | son hyunwoo

shownu has been going on variety shows to promote the group’s latest comeback and the female hosts and guests always comment on his looks

it doesn’t bother you usually, you know he’s handsome and love when he gets all flustered from the attention, but you don’t like how the hosts feel up his arms and ogle him when he performs a part of the choreo

they continue to dote on him and jealousy crawls up your throat and takes over your body as you wait for shownu to come home

he comes home earlier than usual and you would be happy if the images of women touching up his arms weren’t flashing in your mind, clouding your vision

he greets you with a kiss to the cheek and your arms are crossed and you’re pouting, still quiet

only when he’s setting down his stuff does he ask what’s wrong giving you time to look away from his sweaty chiseled chest and focus on your anger

“i saw the show today.” a beat of silence

“oh? was it fun?” he was almost done now as he grew closer to you

“it would’ve been if those women weren’t touching you up...” shownu found it adorable when you were jealous so he couldn’t help but put his arms around your waist and pull your back to his chest, resting his head on your shoulders. you could feel his muscles against you, was he not wearing a shirt any more? it didn’t matter you were angry

“i told them to stop but they cut that out of the show...” your anger subsided, of course he did. you turned in his arms then, properly looking him in the eyes for the first time today.

“good.”

“you’re cute when you’re jealous,” he kissed your nose and you blushed, for a second he thought he outta make you jealous more often but he couldn’t bare even trying to give anyone that kind of attention when he had you. “let me make it up to you,” he started kissing your lips then, his hands roaming down your body as the found your ass and lifted you up, instinctively your legs went around his waist

he was sweaty so u offered to shower with him to save water of course, he thanked you for that with his actions...

wonho | shin hoseok

wonho was performing WITH YOU and you couldn’t help but feel jealous as the beautiful female dancer moved in synch with him and his hands traced her body

you rarely got jealous, he did that enough for both of you, but you couldn’t help it when fans were saying how good they looked together and of course they didn’t know he was already taken

the tweets, instagram posts, even tiktoks of them together consumed you and you finally came to your breaking point when wonho came home from the music show

“enough hoseok i can’t take it any more!”

“what’s wrong?” he had never seen you so upset, a mix of frustration and sadness adorned your face

“you and your dancer, everywhere i look online i just see you two together and i know it’s not real but when everyone’s telling you they would be good together i-“

“baby they don’t know what’s real and what’s for the performance, at the end of the day i came home to you and love you, i don’t even have her number on my phone much less have her saved as my lock screen like i do you,” wonho grinned and you felt the anxiety leave your body slowly. he always knew how to calm me down and when he realized you weren’t as mad he opened his arms for a hug which you fell into with a small pout still on your face

“can i make it up to my baby?” you didn’t know what he had in mind and you certainly didn’t expect being handcuffed to your bed frame screaming his name as he ate you out until you came...three times

kihyun

kihyun wasn’t naturally flirty, just too kind to know he could be perceived as flirty so when a girl trips in front of him and he helps her up like the gentlemen he is she gets the wrong idea and starts flirting with him...in front of you

you let it go on as he obliviously responds to her intrusive questions, you were grateful she didn’t recognize him with his mask and beanie on but you still felt your possessiveness rearing it’s ugly head

“we need to get going honey,” you cut in, having had enough of this girl just when she’s about to ask YOUR boyfriend for his number and she stutters and apologizes, you just mutter an okay as you grab kihyun’s hand and walk away

kihyun laughs as he catches up to you

“aww someone got jealous.”

“not jealous just annoyed, how could you not tell she was flirting?” you frowned at him and he smirked, oh no he’s gonna tease the hell out of you now

“i can only tell when you flirt with me, but what if i was flirting with her? would you get mad? and if i fucked her?” he whispered the last part, since you were still very much in public.

“kihyun,” you groaned as his hold on your hand tightened. you knew where this was going, knew exactly what this tone in his voice would lead to. but honestly you didn’t care, not when you were just as territorial as him and wanted to feel like his in the most physical way.

“would you beg for me back?” kihyun, pulled you flush against him and whispered into your ear and you couldn’t help but hold onto his shoulder for strength, he knew what he did to you.

“you know i would.”

“you look so pretty when you beg, maybe i’ll go get her number.” you were whining at this point, still very much in public, he drove you crazy.

“fuck me please kihyun.” and that’s all it took before you were rushing to the nearest bathroom like a bunch of horny teenagers, and kihyun was making you cry and scream his name.

minhyuk

being an mc on a music show meant he interacted with lots of idols and you always anticipated the influx of delusional fans assuming he’s dating any girl idol he has any interaction with but one day is different from the others

he’s doing his usual mc duties but this kpop idol is staring at him intensely, even as going as far as telling him he’s handsome

she’s much older but it doesn’t stop the influx of tweets and comments

minhyuk is handsome you know that, anyone with eyesight can see that so when he comes home you can’t help but be grumpy

you can’t be mad at him you know that but your feelings are your feelings

he knows as soon as he’s home what’s making you grumpy

“babe i can’t help it!”

“ i know it’s just-why are you so handsome??? cover your face or something argh” you’re not really angry at him and he knows that as he kisses your face until the pout drops from your lips and he kisses you

you’re still feeling annoyed so you make it a point to show minhyuk just how much he is yours as you are his, making him scream your name all night long

hyungwon

like kihyun he doesn’t realize people assume he’s flirting when he’s kind just because he’s handsome

you’re out with him in vacation in greece and hyungwon is helping these japanese tourists with directions because he overhears them being confused about the hotel names, they assume he’s flirting with them since they don’t see you standing, waiting for him under the shade of the store front

hyungwon politely declines their offer to join him back at their hotel and you unfortunately hear the entire conversation, not once did he mention you

you scoff and walk off as he walks back to you, his eyebrows raising in shock

“woah what’s wrong?” he catches up to you with ease, damn his long legs.

“why don’t you go ask your new friends since i don’t exist?” you glare at him and he smirks, the handsome fucker smirks

“jealous babe?”

“why would i be, not like i’m your girlfriend or anything.” you grumble and he laughs at how you’re the angriest he’s seen you in a while. the last time you were this angry it was at netizens for attacking him over some dumb thing.

“i didn’t tell them because they could have recognized me and that wouldn’t have been good for anyone,” that made a lot of sense, maybe you had reacted too strongly. you might just be angry about other people flirting with what’s yours more than anything.

“you’re hot when you’re angry though, maybe i should do that more often.” you stopped in your tracks and narrowed your eyes even more at him, you pulled him into the side alley, pushing him against the building side.

“you won’t.” you shut up with a kiss and he was smirking into your kiss, his hands roaming down your body and you had to pull away and remind yourself you were not in your hotel room. after that you both stumbled and practically ran back to your hotel.

jooheon

jooheon is pretty well known for his unabashed displays of aegyo and so when he goes on a variety show it’s not surprising he’s asked to do it

unfortunately this show is hosted by a female idol and her reaction sends netizens into delusional theories that the two are surely dating

you’re so upset by the rumors and allegations that you start to believe them so when jooheon sees you two days after the rumors started you’re crying at your place

he’s so worried he pulls you to him automatically and asks repeatedly what happened and what’s wrong, not even thinking for a second it could be related to the rumors

finally you manage to stop crying and get out, “it’s okay if you love her too if she makes you happier i’ll understand.”

“what the hell are you talking about?” jooheon is so dumbfounded by your statement he stops soothing you and this makes you go back to crying

“you and that kpop idol on the variety show it’s all over the internet.”

“you idiot i would never date much less love anyone other than you.” you just stop crying at look at him through your tears, which you furiously wipe away again and see the sincerity on his face.

“oh.”

“yes oh i can’t believe you even believed them.” jooheon scoffs and gets off the bed you were both sat on, and then out of nowhere he picks you up and takes you to the bathroom

“we’re taking a bath so my baby can feel better,” the relaxing bath turns to a little more when he can’t but show how much he missed you the past couple days and just how much he loves you more than anyone else

I.M | im changkyun

people expected changkyun to be the bad bitch in your relationship, he had sharp features, a deep voice, piercings, and an amazing body but everyone who knew you both knew you were the one who would slice a bitch

especially if a random girl is trying to dance on your man in the one nightclub everyone knows he’s taken in, this nightclub had cut some kind of nondisclosure deal with the idols and their companies but clearly this girl was new, however, that didn’t mean you would hold back

changkyun winced as she started to dance on him and backed away, but she was persistent as she turned around and tried again, he waved his hand in front of her, clearly disinterested

you didn’t want to step in but as you monitored the situation where you danced with jooheon you could tell changkyun was struggling to remain polite

but you didn’t have a reputation to maintain and you certainly weren’t as calm and collected as your boyfriend

in a couple seconds you were wedging yourself between her and your boyfriend

“i’d back away sweetie,” you painted on your best fake smile and changkyun let out a sigh of relief.

“who are you?” her voice and tone was unpleasant, it was all too unpleasant especially when you were trying your best not to break her

“i’m his girlfriend,”

“let’s let him pick,” she shoved you away and stepped closer to changkyun, and that’s when you know you’re about to end up at the police station...again

changkyun stops you by grabbing your waist and hauling you over his shoulder as you’re lunging for her hair

shownu appears out of nowhere and asks the girl to kindly fuck off in the way shownu just knows how to do

when you’re outside and the driver has pulled up to the club, changkyun sets you down, he looks partially amused but mostly concerned

he knows you hate it when other people flirt with him just like he has to stop himself from breaking the jaw of any guy who dances on you at the club

he pushes the hair out of your face and looks at you fondly, you just nod at him to let him know you’re okay, too lost in his eyes to find words at the moment

and then the driver is opening the door for you and you both shuffle into the very back row of the minivan

changkyun presses a kiss to your temple, and you lean into his side

“you’re so fucking sexy when you get like that, i know i shouldn’t encourage it but fuck,” changkyun whispers into your hair and you shiver as his deep voice sends chills through you, you let your hand travel from its place on his lap to where the leather of his pants is becoming strained

“don’t.” he hisses and you aren’t in the obedient mood as you look him straight in the eyes and continue your torture

you estimate you have about thirty mins to go to get home, the privacy screen between the driver and the back of the car won’t muffle all the sound of you both but you can at least remind changkyun who he belongs to

so when you’re done making him suffer in his leather pants, you unzip them and he’s hissing and grabbing your hand

“fuck babe,” you just smirk at him and then spit in your hand. changkyun groans and throws his head back against the headrest, soon enough you’re leaning down and taking him into your mouth and he’s whining your name in between strings of curses. you manage to finish him off before you even get home.

changkyun gets back at you and you’re sure the entire apartment complex knows his name now

#monsta x imagines #monsta x imagine #monsta x scenario #monsta x smut #changkyun imagine #changkyun imagines #monsta x changkyun #changkyun smut #kihyun smut #monsta x kihyun #hyungwon imagine #monsta x hyungwon #monsta x wonho #wonho imagine #shownu imagine #shownu smut #jooheon x reader #jooheon imagine #monsta x minhyuk #minhyuk imagine #mx #changkyun #monsta x

[burnedbyshoto]

seven

Rich and powerful men can marry seven different women in a wild attempt to produce the perfect heir. Todoroki Enji is one of these powerful men, and you’re his seventh bride.

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pairing: todoroki enji (endeavor) x fem!reader

warnings: edo period!endeavor (king henry viii inspo), forced marriage, alcohol consumption, 18+, smut, non-con, dub-con, size difference, breeding kink, rough-sex, pain, degradation, & mind break

word count: 5,750

a/n: fuck that family who started the fire in socal. my campus is literally raining ashes up in oregon. im so tired. two exams monday. im going to be going on meds for anxiety and adhd soon, so thats new. uh,,, this is like LOL its a bit bad,,, but I really, really lust over asshole enji who only wants to breed bitches and thats it. this is for the bnharem fantasy au collab, i wan’t that creative sorry see ya later skaters.

PLEASE CAREFULLY READ THE WARNINGS. PLEASE CAREFULLY READ THE WARNINGS. PLEASE CAREFULLY READ THE WARNINGS.

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One.

Fate: Spared.

Two.

Fate: Executed.

Three.

Fate: Died during childbirth.

Four.

Fate: Spared.

Five.

Fate: Executed.

Six.

Fate: Executed.

Seven.

Fate: Unknown.

Silks and expensive cloth held a scent that was irreplicable.

The smooth smell of the layers upon layers of fabric wrapped around your body did nothing to quench the building layer of ice in your stomach.

You were scared.

Rightfully so.

Six women came before you, and if you wanted to live, you would have to do better than them.

Marrying the Todoroki Clan head was something that most women could only dream of accomplishing in this day and age. The Todoroki’s, after all, are strong, rich, powerful, undefeated. They held the real power in this age, more influential and notable than the emperor that repeatedly begged the family for support, be it in power, strength, or money.

But, it was also known knowledge that the man who sat at the head of the clan, who held the power of the Todoroki name and future, was a man not to be trifled with.

Todoroki Enji was an endeavor of a man.

There had always been whispers about the head of the family, how he stood eight feet tall, and how his body was not lean like most warriors, but thick and savagely sturdy. His hair was red, blessed by the sun some claimed, or cursed by the devil others alleged. His temper and barbaric nature on the battlefield were, of course, rumored by the people on your lands, who had been indebted by the Todoroki Clan because of their protection and profits. 

Todoroki Enji was not a man to be trifled with.

Especially not if the rumors were true.

He was painted as a demon by everyone. Still, Enji was no demon, he was human, and if he was to allow the Todoroki Clan's legacy to continue, he needed an heir… but since he was human, he was aging.

Six women.

You knew that it was six women because you had been alive to experience five of them.

You remember the newly married couple being paraded through the streets.

Todoroki Enji remained hidden within his vehicle's confines while his new wife, doe-eyed, smiling, effervescent, would greet the gathered crowds. You often wondered what they thought when you would conjure in respect for the man who ensured your childhood and adolescence were not corrupted by thieves and horror.

You wondered what she thought when promising the village elders that she would produce a strong, male heir. You raised an eyebrow at the thought that maybe, just maybe they believed that they would be different -- be able to birth a strong, capable male heir.

Six wives.

Twenty children.

Two weak, sickly boys.

A whole clan of girls.

Were they idiotic, blind, or batshit insane to ever believe that they would be different?

You undoubtedly didn’t know.

Three of the six had been executed.

Three of six had been proud to state they would produce a strong male Todoroki heir, noting that his two sons -- Touya and Natsuo -- would be removed from the family as soon as their strong son was born. 

One of those three birthed a weak, sickly baby boy. She passed in childbirth and took him with her one day after.

Another of those three birthed four girls, two sets of twins because, of course, they were given two chances. She was executed on treason.

The final of those three had simply pissed him off; rumor had it. Her pussy was too tight, unwilling to sheath the thick massive cock that belonged to him… no point in breaking something that wouldn’t bend when there was more pussy out there (you remember she had been ugly too).

But what you didn’t expect was for his clan members to come through your village's streets with an announcement in hand.

Of the six women before you, three had held significant political power -- the three that survived.

Of the remaining three, there was a poet, the other a woman soldier of his, and the last being a clan member.

You had never known what the decision process was, not even a little bit, so when men dressed in dark robes with the Todoroki sigil and katana’s strapped to their sides infiltrated your village, you were on edge.

“All women who are fertile and beautiful, line up, and no, we don’t care if you’re married,” was the short, almost taunting order, and you had never felt sicker.

You were among the seventy females in your village that matched the requirement they demanded. 

Your sight was almost glued to the floor as they walked through you all, your fists grabbing your light blue kimono as the men groped the women in line, teasing the breasts of the pregnant women, rutting their poorly concealed cocks through the valley of asses, shoving between some girls thighs with loopy, proud smiles on their faces, beating any man who attempted to protect any one of their honors. 

But you were towards the end of the line, standing where they decided to save for last, and you were helpless to it all. You watched knowing that of the sixty-something women ahead of you, none of them remained. 

The whimpers, cries, and whines grew louder by your ear, your spine rigid and sore with its tightness as the girl beside you dropped to the floor in her fear. You couldn’t bother looking at her as the parting of their robes seemed to be akin to gunpowder going off in your ears. The horrified squeal on her tongue being silenced when a cock slammed through her lips, the tears pouring down her face useless, if anything, only encouraging their roughhousing. 

Your lip curled at the sound of her pathetic whining, the incessant need of her to tell them that she was not okay with this was nails on an iron plate. It annoyed you, it pissed you off.

“Look at this one,” the snickering laughter of a man breathed by your ear, instantly stilling and freezing the anger that was once radiating like fire from your chest. “She doesn’t look ashamed… she looks like she’s jealous. Maybe these common bitches do have someone good enough for Boss.”

Spluttering gasps and hiccuping cries came from the ground, and you couldn’t even bother glancing at the woman you had known all your life laying on the floor, kimono ripped open, and white, sticky cum dripping from her mouth.

“Well, there’s nothing like taking her out for a test run,” came a sleazy smile, and when two hands gripped at your clothed breasts, you didn’t so much as raise a brow at their perverted actions.

You had won in the end against them. Each perverted, twisted intention they placed against you, dirt crusted fingernails digging into your arms, purpling, throbbing cocks pressed into your backside… it hadn’t mattered.

You didn’t budge.

You didn’t cry.

You didn’t make a noise.

A simple smirk remaining on their faces at your inevitable victory against the other women in your village -- against the crying, cum stuffed women who stared at your victorious and stubborn form without a clue on how you managed.

And where did that land you?

In a room with only one window too high up for an average person to reach, white silks and fabrics adorning your body, and ceremonial ornaments in your hair.

Six women came before you, but today, you would become the seventh.

With you, there would be seven women to have wed Todoroki Enji, but you weren’t scared because you feared the fate of the six before you. No, you were much better than them; you already knew that for a fact.

The anxiety that coursed through your veins created that ice pit in your stomach came from one place and one place only.

Your cunt already sobbed at the thought of even attempting at taking his thick, veiny cock you knew was the size of your thigh later tonight.

A virgin like you had no chance of survival.

The doors to your room soon slammed open, and your back stiffened at the sight of a familiar face of an escort you had. His eyes didn’t meet yours; they were focused at the wall, his face tense and tight.

“It’s best we leave now, y/l/n, Todoroki-sama doesn’t like waiting.”

The weight of the white silk on your body felt like a brick when you stood up from your position, and you wondered if the sweat from your pits and palms would damage the kimono -- if it was noticeable. But you had a duty, and as number seven, you had no motive to be executed before even getting the chance to prove yourself.

You knew how wishes worked; the secret was in being silent about your desire… never reveal what your wish was, or the world wouldn’t grant it.

Or at least, that’s what you told yourself every time you heard the all too familiar words of: “I’ll produce a fine Todoroki heir,” through the lips of the dead and the divorced. They had spoken it to the universe, acknowledged what they needed, and the cruel world failed them each and every time.

You were so wrapped up in your thoughts, so consumed by the idea of what would happen tonight, you hardly realized that with the heaving puffing breathes you took to keep up with the man’s ridiculous strides, that you had made it to the shrine that you had been brought to wed.

But you couldn’t even take in the beauty of the shrine to your left because you were more interested in who was standing in the pathway towards the shrine.

Todoroki Enji.

He stood on the stone-paved path, his bulky, beefy arms folded across his chest, the fabric of his kimono taut and tight against his flexed muscle, and a sour frown on his face. It was as the rumors had spoken, you realized when you stopped mere strides away from your future husband, he was a man that looked both godly and cursed.

Bright red hair glistened like copper pans under the sunlight, waving and flickering like a raging fire with every small burst of wind. He stood at almost eight feet high, maybe eight feet, you had no idea. All you knew is that as your feet stumbled when getting near to this man, you were dwarfed, feeling like a child next to their father as you gazed up at his unmoving, scarred face. His eyes didn’t look down at you, but even you could see the clear, sharp blue in them, and for the first time, you questioned reality.

Was this man truly human? Was he genuinely Japanese?

Seeing him before you made your knees buckle in fear, arousal, and anticipation.

You wanted to see what had made the sixth scream to stop.

You wanted to see just what he was hiding behind the ridiculously tight fitted kimono, but your thoughts were yanked away when his hand -- no doubt bigger than your head -- pressed to space between your shoulder blades and pushed you.

“We’re on a tight schedule,” he merely growled, his eyes burning at something a million miles away, and with a small, pitiful whimper, you allowed him to lead the way.

The wedding ceremony was… odd, to say the least.

While you had never been married, you had attended a few weddings within your lifetime already, and never once had it felt so disturbing dead and raw as it had today. This Shinto ceremony, typically doused with symbolism and motifs for the greatest possible outcome for the union between you and Todoroki Enji, was stripped from the shrine walls, leaving the walls barren and cold as both he and the priest proceeded through the ceremony at breakneck speed.

It wasn’t something Enji wanted; you realized that clearly the moment he refused to meet your gaze; his blue eyes remaining on the priest.

Everything the both of you performed together was done haphazardly, the lack of symbols you had always wished to see in your wedding ceremony forgotten, undoubtedly seen as a farce by a man like Todoroki Enji, but still, your heart ached.

You hadn’t noticed when the ceremony had ended; Enji never once allowing you to move, or do anything for that matter, by yourself. There was no use in fighting against a man who’s entire hand fit around your forearm, his thumb even resting against his fingernail -- oh yes, this man was huge.

There was no telling when he paraded you through the streets of his territory, allowing you to numbly speak to the village elders, to allow your parents to press their sweaty palms to your cheeks because god, please, please survive this, their touch practically sobbed. You smiled at them, eyes numb with the reality of what this was going to be for you, but the cheerful tone on your tongue remained optimistic and bright with every passing word. 

The scornful thoughts of the sixth woman being too weak to handle Enji had dissipated, and you wondered just what the other five did to survive what you knew was a massive fucking cock hidden beneath the shrowds of his black kimono.

You would survive, you would survive, you would survive.

But far before you were ready to, you arrived back at the Todoroki front, the wooden estate standing sturdy and strong, the air of power and aura almost tangible. The samurai and clansmen who had undoubtedly awaited for you and your now-husband (that was still odd to think about) to return. Pairs of warm, weathered hands helped you from the carriage, and without so much of a whisper of thanks, they escorted you away, heads bowed at the mercy of their leader.

Once more, you were abandoned in your room.

The window no longer allowed the streaming setting sunlight in, your room was in the eastern part of the estate, and with the nighttime coming, the setting sun was merely a memory to you.

And in that room, the tiny, unspacious room that seemed much more for a prisoner than the seventh wife of Todoroki Enji, you tried not to cry.

The door slamming open hours after you had fallen asleep had taken you by surprise.

Enji had left you to your own entertainment, and long after you were served dinner, and informed that no, Todoroki-sama would not be visiting you right now because he was busy, you had sat on the bed in your silks and robes, numbly looking at the star-filled sky. Sleep was the only thing you could do, and with the last servant visit being past midnight, you took to sleep.

Except that you forgot a sparing, important detail.

This was Todoroki Enji’s world, and you were merely his legal fuckhole.

The heavy footsteps of Enji entering the room echoed in your ear, and the door closed behind him, solidifying the end of the beginning of what you once knew. 

“Seven,” he growled into the night, and your spine snapped straight.

He loomed above you, the tatami mat suddenly feeling like a brick wall against your side, and you swallowed pathetically at the way his deep, raspy voice sent shivers down your spine.

This had been the first time you had heard him speak, all other forms of communication between him and the priest and he and his clan members had been nonverbal, solely told through those piercing blue eyes that only let you dream of what he sounded like -- of what he was demanding. But you lay confused, your eyebrows scrunched at just why he had called out the number seven?

Seven what?

You twisted where you lay, your eyes meeting his own, and despite the lack of light in the room, you could see the cold, distant glint in his eyes.

“Oh good,” he mocked, his voice low and dangerous, eyes squinted in his apparent lack of approval. “You can hear.”

“S-Seven what?” you stammer, your elbow pressing into the mat, pushing you up so that you could look at your husband, uncertainty and discomfort scorching every nerve in your body. 

You didn’t know what to do.

Then, it hit you. The bitter, numbing smell of alcohol coated in a fine layer around his skin, the small puffs of angry air from his mouth letting you know that your husband was inebriated, and your throat clenched when he began to dismantle his kimono.

“T-This isn’t a good idea!” you stammer, the white silk robes you were still dressed in because they refused to allow you a set of sleeping clothes because the marriage needed to be consummated, felt stiff and not protective enough. “You won’t produce a proper heir if you’re intoxicated.”

Enji raised an eyebrow at you, and your thudding heart failed to cease as his robes hit the floor with an unceremonious thud. 

Whiskey dick wasn’t something foreign to you; the countless men you had sucked off in your time, the numerous sex stories you had been shared with always had some instance of a man getting drunk and being able to get their cock hard, but this…?

If this was Enji’s whiskey dick, you weren’t sure what to expect of his sober cock.

His cock was already hard, the veins in his cock large, plentiful, and bulging in many areas. It was thick, without a doubt thick enough where it would take both your hands to circle around his cock, and it was long, the swollen weeping tip leaking against his abdomen. His cock was magnificent yet deadly, and your pussy spasmed in fear of having that monster all twelve plus inches shoved into your virgin cunt.

“The fuck are you doing, seven?” Enji snarled, his powerful naked legs moving toward you, his feet pressing into the mat, and his hand reaching out to you. “I didn’t marry you for you to just stare at my fucking cock like some piss-shit baby.”

There was no time to panic, protest, or even prepare yourself for the sudden sharp, dull ache in your jaw when he pressed his monster cock past your chapped, chewed lips. 

Immediately, it was overwhelming.

The engorging cock had barely passed your lips, but you were already gagging against the unwelcomed size, the horrid ache sending spilling tears down your cheeks, doing nothing but annoying the man before you. His hands gripped your hair, his eyes not even bothering to look at you as he fucked your mouth.

“Stop fucking resisting,” Enji snarled, his hips coming to meet your mouth in a vicious, unpleasant snap, the head of his cock pressing down your clenched throat, and so much of his cock still remaining far from your mouth. “Take my cock like the fucking whore I know you are, seven.”

You gasp for air, but with his cock ramming further and further down your throat, the scalding heat emitting from his skin burning your throat, making you gag and choke around him in your fear. You couldn’t breathe, you realized in a panic, and your eyes widened in fear, drool and spit spilling down your chin pathetically as Enji hums contently.

“Don’t feel so scared, seven,” Enji cruelly smirked up at the ceiling, his hips lazily, sloppily, yet powerfully delivering his cock into your bulging throat. “I heard what you did to my men, how you let them fuck you however they saw fit, how you scoffed and scowled at the other pathetic weak bitches who couldn’t handle a little groping… I thought you would like this? What is it? Never had a real fucking cock before? A little whore like yourself only gotten shitty little cocks?”

Wordlessly, you begged to be shown mercy, your vision blackening as he choked out all forms of oxygen, his war weathered body unbothered by your clawing fingers on his thighs. No, you were too weak for it to hurt him.

His hands left your hair, and you collapsed back onto the bed, gasping for air, choking, and coughing for oxygen that only burned all through your system, sitting unpleasantly in your lungs while tears and saliva mixed on your throat.

“Where the fuck are do you think you’re going, seven?” Enji barked, his body suddenly looming over yours, and you felt trapped, unable to move as the mountain of a man trapped you between his sturdy arms and legs. His cock, warm and sticky with your spit and his precum, sat heavily on your stomach, the size difference between the two of you even more pronounced when the tip of his cock rested at the bottom of your ribcage. “All you did was lube up my cock for your stupid, tight pussy. Don’t think I was satisfied with that childish blowjob -- next time, if you want to cry, make sure it’s loud enough that I feel it against my cock.”

You pathetically moan at his words, the tears still falling from your eyes because your throat and jaw hurt. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt.

“Please,” you gasped as his cinder hot hands pressed to your breasts against your kimono, he quickly enveloped your tender flesh in his hands despite the fabric. “Please, no more.”

“I don’t remember this marriage being about you,” he mocked, and with no more of a glinting snarl of his mouth, he tore the kimono straight off your body. The horrified scream that left your lips was silenced by the echoing slap across your face.

Pain blistered at the side of your face, and the resulting tears couldn’t be felt against your numbed skin as Enji continued his conquest, his fingers pulling and ripping any and all fabric pressed against your body.

“Get away!” you weakly whimpered, body trembling and twisting as you attempted to escape the man looming above you, finally ridding you of all dresses, hands pressing to the back of your thighs to push you into a position that he liked. “Leave me alone, leave me alone…”

There was no fire in your words, nothing but the aching fear and undeniable terror.

But the words did nothing to Enji, who continued to move you so that your tight, virgin cunt lined up with his throbbing, red cockhead. Even like this, your face was pressed into his chest. His body unworldly larger than yours, incredibly goliath compared to you.

“You know, seven, if you keep trying to escape me and you keep trying to save yourself, then why are you so fucking wet with everything I’ve done?” he growls down at you, his piercing blue eyes staring straight through you, the tears falling down your face doing nothing but encouraging him because he was right… your cunt, just like his cock, was wet, dripping with the undeniable pleasure of this all. There was a fire, a shameful fire, in your pussy, throbbing in time with the stinging pulse in your face that begged for Enji’s cock despite it all. “You fucking tiny little slut… I can feel just how my actions -- how my words -- affect you, getting you off like a bitch in heat! Your efforts to hide it are pathetic, fucking useless.”

Pain.

If you thought you knew what pain was before right now, you had to be wrong. 

Enji’s girth was overwhelming, nearly splitting your shuddering tight walls while he buried his cock entirely within you. Nausea builds in the back of your throat, a soundless shriek breaking past your bleeding lips, your hips bucking in their relentless attempt to adjust to the way that he was splitting your walls in two, and your face flushed in pain and lust press into his chest, the only part of him you could touch. 

Fuck, fuck, “fuck!” you cried, fat and painful tears pushing past your eyes, dripping down the apples of your cheeks while Enji sighed at the feeling of your hot cunt against his cock, blood seeping out of your pussy in such a pretty way he couldn’t help but smile.

“You’ve got a really tight cunt,” he observes, his hips slamming against you without warning, his mind only caring about him, setting off another round of painful screams while he situates within you. “Mhm, this is nice. A tight, young pussy always means a good womb, you’ll give me the heir I need… I’ll make sure to fuck you full of my cum.”

His hips then begin to thrust upward into you, the tip of his cock unable to reach the beginnings of your walls that he seemed to attempt to get to with each powerful blow. But it was his girth that had your body tensed, back arched in pain, eyes clenched in nothing but pain.

Pain.

Pain.

Pain.

“Hey.” SLAP. Your head snapped to the side, a burning, stinging pain on your cheek, alerting you that your eyes were closed. Your piqued breathing spluttered and so spaced between it was as if you were having some sort of asthma attack. Enji looked down at you, blue eyes burning demonly down at you (you wondered if this was the same look those who survived to see him on the battlefield claimed he had), his lips curled into an unapproving snarl while his hands pushed at the bottom of your knees. You pressed further into the tatami, the angle of penetration only furthering with your desperate screams to be gentler. “Shut the hell up, you’re annoying me with all this fucking screaming. Don’t waste my time.”

You whimper loudly, the feeling of his forcibly moving hips not becoming any easier on you, no longer a wave of intensive horrifying pain, but still a throbbing pain than had your fingernails cutting into his skin. “You have to be gentler! Be gentler, please be gentler! You’re so much bigger than me!!! My pussy can’t… my pussy can’t handle this!”

The fabric of the kimono under your body seared with heat when Enji shoved you further onto the mat, your legs twitching almost pathetically around his waist while your sight nearly blackened with his next action. He slammed your knees into the mat, increasing the angle of his penetration by a tenfold, sending you into another round of howling pain and pleasure as his cock slammed into your cervix -- bruising and scalding your puffy, sensitive walls with every powerful thrust. With his drilling hips and snarling speed, your screams and shouts of pain and pleasure and fear were cut off by an enormous fist around your neck, and his voice echoed from above you.

“Didn’t your dad teach you fucking whore to be quiet, seven?” Enji hisses, his thick hand clenching around your neck. Oxygen refused to flow to your lung, you went light-headed and limp, choking noises emitting from you while he continued to slam his cock in you, your clenching and splitting walls unable to keep up with the speed of the esteemed nobleman of Japan. “You’re my breeding whore, do you understand? You have no value to me except to be breed, to be full of my cum, to carry my child. You are nothing more than an object. Do. You. understand?”

Your head throbbed, the blood forcibly kept in your head, and the lack of oxygen made your world spin. 

“Y-Yes!” you choke on your tongue.

“Repeat it!”

“I’m your breeding whore! Fill me with your cum, I wanna… fuck, I w-wanna carry your children! I’m your object, I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours!”

“There we go,” Enji sighs contently, his broad chest pressing your thighs further into the bed, cutting off what limited oxygen you had left, and increasing the jabbing pleasure within you by a tenfold.

“Shit, such a filthy fucking cunt you have,” he groans, your walls spasming against him with his wild, obscene thrusts. He moves his hands further up your legs so that they press against your knees, your legs then wrap around his body, shaking as he makes no effort to slow in his advances, your finger drawing blood from where they raked down his back because he was burning an outline of your body into the mat. Your strangled scream goes unnoticed by Enji, a desperate plea for him to be softer.

But he wasn’t someone who cared.

You were only here to be bred, to give him a son, the strongest son the entire country of Japan -- nay, the world -- has ever seen.

Pathetically, your hips attempt to rise up to meet him, a prayer that it would ease this brutal force he was using. It was too much -- his cock easily overpowering your throbbing cunt.

The sounds of his cock slamming into your sopping pussy created loud wet noises that made you cry in embarrassment. Your face felt like it was seconds from popping out, Enji’s weight crushing you on top of the abhorrent position he was fucking you in, but he found it as an excuse to speed up. His rugged grunts are warnings in your ears as his cock finally hits your cervix with consistency that makes you wail. The stretch he gave you was boggling, and you were progressively less cognitive aware as he drilled in harder. His slams were so hard that the sound of his thighs hitting your ass let out a continuous and loud slap.

His fingers gouge into your skin, and you cry his name like a hopeful prayer as he is fueled by your appraisal, your breath hot and sticky between the valley of his chest. Your tongue pressing against his skin akin to some infant looking to suck their mothers tit.

The force in which Enji slammed his hips to meet yours. Above your ear, the growling pants that mocked you for enjoying this demeaned you for thinking you were anything more than his breeding whore sent a liquid fire that could never match the heat of a conflagration to your core. When your head smashed against the mat because you could no longer keep your head up. 

“That’s fucking right,” he laughs, drool pouring past your lips with your mindless babble, your eyes fluttering closed. Pleasure drowned in pain sobs expelled from your lips, invigorating something powerful within the entire family who watches on with impatient stares at the sight of your squeezing cunt around Eniji’s cock. “Take my fucking cock, bitch, don’t fucking pass out yet, we’re far from over.”

Enji was raw power, destruction, and strength. He pistoled into your sobbing core with the intent of getting his sperm into your cunt, to get his sperm that would get him a son into you, other than that, he was uncaring, unmotivated by your pathetic whining and crying. Your thrashing and wailing do not stop Enji, nor do they lessen the pace and the force he’s settled in as the floor begins to creak with every powerful thrust.

“I needa — holy shit, r-right there! M-More, more, more, more--”

“What? Do you need to come already, seven?” Enji mocks you pushing up off you so his back is curved, and your body so small underneath him. “Do you really think I’ll let you cum before me?”

Your eyes can no longer stay open as the only noises leaving your mouth are whines and begs for more. You forcibly clench around him to stir a reaction from him, but all he does is snarl quietly as he continues his rutting force. The pounding is rhythmic. His balls bruising your ass where he hits you. The feeling of Enji’s cock entering and leaving you draws your eyes to the back of your head as you pathetically whimper his name, his thighs hitting your ass at bruising force, only adding to your pleasure. 

Each powerful snap of his hips sending your back arching to the heavens, the balls of your feet digging bruisingly into his back. In and out he goes, your cunt nothing more than a cocksleeve for him, and your wanton screams and mewls taking him further and further.

Enji all but laughs into your ear, his hand moving from pressing onto the tatami mat and pushing into your opened mouth, pressing onto your tongue. “Suck my fingers like a good whore, show me that you’re not gonna disappoint me. Suck my fingers.” you sob in the thought, not because you’re fearful of disappointing the man, but because the feeling of his fingers in your mouth makes your cunt throb ludicrously, your tongue desperately wrapping around the appendages, pushing through the space of his fingers. “I’m going to fill you up so good, breeding whore. You’ll be leaking my cum for days. I’m going to make sure you carry the Todoroki gene, and I hope that it’s my son you carry.”

The words incite clenching heat in your core, your lips unable to form anything but a weak, pitiful moan because the thought of being filled to the max with Todoroki cum makes your mind spin. More, you want to milk them all dry. You want nothing more than that. With a ragged breath, a consecutive full thrust that sends his cock slamming against your cervix, Enji cums fully within you. His load is long and heavy, your belly feeling like it’s bulging when he finally emerges from your cunt. His once hard cock limping in his hands while you lay there defeated, his and your intermixed cum spilling from your pulsing cunt. 

Your mouth opened, sobbing at his absence, a need for him to return despite your core's undeniable tremor and ache. He’s off your body as well, and oxygen floods your lungs in dizzying and shallow pants, your vision fuzzies out, and you stare almost brokenly at the window painted with the rising morning sun.

Your room was in the east wing, after all.

You didn’t even protest when he pressed a smooth wooden plug into your cunt to “ensure you were bred to succession.”

He would soon leave your room, stumbling out with a drunken hiccup, leaving you to lay on a once white kimono… a once white kimono drenched in cum, blood, sweat, and tears.

You wouldn’t know until two weeks later, but Todoroki Enji had succeeded in breeding you, and you would eventually lay in a birthing room with blood and sweat and tears soaking your skin as a silent baby boy was placed in your arms.

“And what will his name be?” the midwife asked, her eyes wide with joy for you and Enji.

“...Shouto.”

#endeavor x reader #todoroki enji x reader #endeavor smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha

[lchufflepuffcorn]

Scared of the moonlight  (Remus Lupin x Reader x Sirius Black)

Author’s note: Heya there! So I literally ripped my heart of my chest writing this. 🙃

Words: 1282

Warning: Angst, the gif is not mine, it belongs to it’s owner/ creator , not Wolfstar.

You can find my masterlist here and my ask box is open!! 

The 12 Square Grimmaurd was not a luminous and happy place. It was dark, dusty and green. You couldn't decide if it was because of the paint, or if it was mould. Did you want to know? Not really. There is a fine line between being sombre and being dirty in a house, and that line is blurry in the Black Household. You sit in the kitchen; your arms crossed over your chest, and your eyes a fixated on the older man before you. 

"No." 

The older man chuckles. His half-moon glasses fall a little bit on his seemingly once or twice-broken nose as he down his head towards his hands. But his blue eyes never lose sight of yours. "I understand your reticence (Y/L/N), but we have no other choice." 

"I can't just abandon my job, Albus. Some students count on me to be there in September," you argue. Your job as a teacher in one of the  Canadian bilingual schools was what made you live throughout the war. The WhiteStar Academy of Magic was your home more than Hogwarts ever was. 

"I've already talked with your director on the matter, (Y/L/N). The order count's on you." 

Rage is all you can feel at the moment. Black and Lupin are sitting there too, face down, not pipping a word. They know your anger is one of a kind. At least time did not erase that from their memory. It seems that except Lily and James, they remember nearly nobody of your group of friend that died. As if Dorcas and Marlene never existed. As if Frank and Alice didn't lose their mind. As if Harry was the only one without parents after the war. And Black, selfishly going after the real traitor, making everyone believe he was it. You send them a heartfelt glare, and they seem to shrink even more in their sit. 

"Why ask me if it's already decided. You act like we are still your students, Albus. We aren't I have a job that I love, students that need my help, even more now because of this situation. I'm not leaving them in front of this shit hole of a situation now!" 

"The director of your school proposed to give you an alleged timetable for the year." 

It went for hours. Back and forth, and you grew angrier by the minute. It ended with you admitting defeat. Albus could never lose, even if it hurt you saying so. The summer had just started, and already the 12 Square Grimmaurd was filling itself with people from the order, Mad-Eye-Moody, Shacklebolt, Tonks, it was never-ending. On the rare time Remus, you and Sirius were alone, it was explosive, in a silent kind of way. 

The past was something you didn't like to remember. Feelings hurt. Love and friendship were fragile, and you knew too much of the sickness it gave when it disappears or breaks. There were nights where you couldn't sleep, and usually, neither could the two men. It was during those nights when all the rage and sadness you had felt those fourteen years came out. 

"Trust goes both ways, Lupin. How can I trust you now that I know you never trusted me enough to tell me what you are?" and "Did you ever think, Black, that maybe Harry would have wanted to live with you instead? That maybe he would have needed you, and you weren't there. Instead, you tried to kill Peter and look where that got you!" You didn't care if you hurt them. They did hurt you first. 

They didn't dare to speak against you, seeing you cry while screaming at them about their wrongs. They knew it was like therapy to you. 

Remus was typically the one talking back at you when the full moon was near. He was also the one to walk out without speaking, and it was Sirius who spoke you into sleeping those nights. It usually ended up with you passing out in his arms. 

There were nights where you would fall asleep crying. Marlene and Dorcas weren't there anymore, and all you could do in this house of old memories was to remember all of your discussions. Crushes and heartbreaks and your heart would flinch at those thoughts. Long gone were the times you talked about Remus blushing now… 

You were in Canada when they brought Harry to the Hogwarts Express, but you were fuming when you received his letter. The news of having a God Mother had the boy overjoyed. Screaming is what met Sirius the second you opened the door of his family's house, waking up the portrait of his mother. Her screaming reached yours. 

"You're still angry with me?" Asked Sirius that night, while everybody else was either asleep or had left. You shrugged. 

"I don't think I'll ever get over what you've done… But at the same time, I guess that it's a very 'Sirius' thing to do." That made him smile sadly. 

As weeks passed, your heart melted slowly. Sirius wanted only two things: going to Lily and James' graves and meeting with Alice and Frank at least once more. You took him, both times. It helped to get out of the house, where Tonks was flirting with Remus each time she could. Your heart would break each time, but you smiled and still talked with her about the trouble she had communicating with him.

''He is a tough person to read.'' You considered to her one night while drinking a hot tea.  Molly was stirring soup at the other side of the kitchen, humming softly. Tonks only nodded. 

On the 31 of October, you apparated to Godric's Hollow, Sirius, in his shaggy black dog form beside you. You had never seen Sirius cry before. The hiccups he was having as a dog were representative of his mental status. That night, you sat with him for a long while in the cemetery. 

There were nights where you went back in time, Remus, you and Sirius were back in Hogwarts, laughing near a fire without a care in the world. During those times, your heart was aching for a touch from your long time crush. The adult you, the one who was seeing daily the lovestruck gaze that Tonks looked Remus with, was against it. You had spent years living perfectly well without him in your life. Maybe, it just wasn't meant to be. It was a beautiful dream when you were younger, but you needed to be mature now, and realistic. 

After Christmas, that's when Tonks and Remus started to be interested in each other mutually. You couldn't bear to watch it. You spent some time back in Canada, after speaking with Dumbledore, taking vacations. From Sirius's letters, you learned that Remus was still insecure about his condition. He was interested one day, then cold the very next, or playing dumb most of the time. You could only feel sad for Sirius' niece. 

When you came back, Remus hugged you, and your heart started beating like crazy, your cheeks went hot, and your eyes sat on Tonks whose face sunken immediately. 

That night, once again, it was Sirius who too you in his arms while you were crying. 

''I just wish I hadn't been scared of the moonlight when I was younger,'' you said after calming down. ''Maybe I wouldn't feel so weird about it now...'' Sirius nodded. 

''Yeah,'' he said. 

''Do you ever feel like you should have made some other choices, romantically speaking, I mean.'' 

''All the time.'' 

And if you had looked, you would have seen his eyes on you, a look he had worn for years when he looked at you. 

#Remus Lupin #Sirius Balck #Harry potter fandom #Harry Potter imagine #heartbreak #angst #Sirius Black x reader #Remus Lupin x reader #Wolfstar #The marauders #Marauders imagines #order of the phoenix #werewolf #animagis #death #memories #Lily evans #James potter #Harry Potter #Not centered on cute romance #i'm trying not to cry #I hate myself for this #I'm really sorry

[passionate-reply]

This week on Great Albums: Soft Cell’s 1981 debut, Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret! The first great gay synth-pop album, and the one that walked so that acts like Bronski Beat, Erasure, and the Pet Shop Boys could run. Yeah, “Tainted Love” is cool, but have you ever heard “Sex Dwarf”? Full transcript after the break!

Welcome to Passionate Reply, and welcome to Great Albums! Today’s video tackles Soft Cell’s 1981 debut, Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret. While “Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret” is not necessarily a household name, this album did produce one track that I can just about guarantee that you’ve already heard, assuming you have any familiarity with Western popular music.

Music: “Tainted Love”

“Tainted Love” is one of those classics that’s almost too big for its own good, with an enormous shadow in popular culture. Few compositions from the 1980s, from the general arena of synth-pop, or, indeed, in the popular music canon, have quite as much of a legacy. As an introduction to the significance of Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret, it’s not an awful start, but it does have a bit of an “obvious single choice” feel--not only for that huge hook, but also for how tame, even quaint, it starts to feel compared to the other stuff here. “Tainted Love” is a gay song, sure, but it’s only expressing that idea in an abstract manner--it is a cover, after all. What the remainder of the album lacks in “DUN DUN,” it makes up for in frankness and remarkably candid handling of sexuality, which still manages to be a bit shocking, even as this album reaches its 40th birthday. Could anyone but Soft Cell’s Marc Almond really have sold us the raw, lurid raunchiness of “Sex Dwarf”?

Music: “Sex Dwarf”

Beyond the outrageously explicit nature of “Sex Dwarf,” its most noteworthy characteristic is just how playfully, cartoonishly devilish it is. I’ve always read it as a work in the grand tradition of the queer community reclaiming the trope of the camp gay villain, seen so often in popular media. In its purest form, this gay villain archetype is the ultimate expression of chaos and disorder--their rejection of social norms of gender and sexuality and their threat to the status quo go hand in hand. While it’s reprehensible to simply equate queerness with evil, there’s a long tradition of reclaiming that same imagery, turning the lavish power of such transgressor figures into a badge of strength, and that’s how I tend to interpret “Sex Dwarf.” That said, for as much as tracks like these seem to almost force a specifically gay reading of the album, it also seems interested in themes of sexuality and sin, more broadly. Take the track “Seedy Films,” for example, a more playful number full of slinky clarinet, teasing rattles, and breathy, almost gasping female backing vocals, seemingly suggestive of a more heterosexual vantage point.

Music: “Seedy Films”

I like to think of each track on Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret as coming to us from the perspective of a different anti-hero, each as unreliable and capricious as the last. Another key track that complicates issues of perspective and identity is the album’s tense opener, “Frustration.” “Frustration” delivers on its title musically, with a stubborn refusal to ever resolve its constant melodic tension at any point during its runtime, making it legitimately fatiguing and stressful to listen to. Its lyrics might be interpreted as a critique of the boredom lurking behind mainstream society’s “ideal” life of suburban safety, and a send-up of the alleged appeal of fitting in and being normal. But we could interpret it equally well, as a song that’s less about being “straight” in the sense of “square,” and more about being heterosexual--perhaps as the lament of a closeted gay man, tormented by an incommunicable internal struggle, despite all the material comforts in the world.

Music: “Frustration”

Either way, “Frustration” can be compared to “Secret Life” on the flip side, which focuses on the idea of a divide between one’s external facade of a respectable and ordinary existence, and the darkness of one’s internal, deviant, carnal desires.

Music: “Secret Life”

Whether their narrators are parsed as gay or straight, their songs are certainly tense tales of repression and release. And they’re also mediated by the idea of being trapped in a tame, and particularly middle-aged existence. The clearest expression of the theme of getting older, and possibly more and more constrained by the need to put on airs of respectability, is, naturally, “Youth”:

Music: “Youth”

The stale, conservative lifestyles of the middle-aged certainly don’t seem like the most natural subject matter for a debut album by a pair of twenty-somethings, but I like to interpret this fixation as a bit of a memento mori. The urgency of enjoying life’s pleasures, now, is checked by the fear of a future in which that window of opportunity is closing. As I said earlier, all of these tracks are narrated by some character or construct, and in that sense, the real identities of Marc Almond and David Ball matter fairly little. In the world of Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret, nearly everything feels constructed or artificial--it’s all just an act, as much as “Secret Life”’s narrator puts on a respectable front. The superbly campy “Entertain Me,” which wouldn’t feel out of place in some cult musical, engages most clearly with the idea of performance, bringing in a giggling call-and-response choir and a chaotic clamour of percussion in its desperate attempt to, well, entertain us. Critically positioned at the top of the second side, it’s the perfect place for the album to second-guess itself as a work of art.

Music: “Entertain Me”

That track is certainly more “Rocky Horror Picture Show” than “Architecture & Morality,” isn’t it? While the synth-pop acts penetrating the mainstream before Soft Cell, like Gary Numan and OMD, had a bit of punk’s rough, low-budget, DIY ethos to them, Soft Cell were the first ones really crafting performative, self-aware post-disco synth-pop, that owed more to the swooning divahood of Donna Summer in “I Feel Love” than it did to the starched shirts and robo-rhythms of Kraftwerk. Much like disco, Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret is truly a production--dense, luxurious, tweaked to perfection in a studio, and featuring several traditional instruments that are uncommon in rock, such as “Frustration”’s saxophone and “Seedy Films”’s clarinet.

The most noticeable thing about the cover of the album is almost certainly its lurid blue and fuchsia lighting, gleaming harshly against Almond and Ball’s leather jackets. It immediately takes us to the sweaty, nocturnal, and of course, homoerotic world this music dwells in. The duo stare us down, with fairly cross or standoffish posturing, suitable for an album as in-your-face as this one. There’s a bit of a narrative hook here, with Almond either producing this mysterious, almost certainly illicit package, or perhaps tucking it away. Almond’s sunglasses are a small detail, but one that I think holds a lot of contextual significance. There’s a long history of erotic art aimed at the gay male audience utilizing devices like hat-brims and shades to create a “disrupted gaze”--a sort of lightly objectifying, or compartmentalizing, manner of sexualizing its subjects. I’d also be remiss if I didn’t mention Ball’s snakeskin necktie, which is another classically sexy touch. Note also the neon light motif used for the text, which contributes to that nightlife feel as strongly as anything else. With a name like “Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret,” it would’ve been truly sinful to write that out in anything besides this warping neon, and it’s the perfect title to accompany an album that’s as insistent and gleefully tawdry as they come.

Earlier, I had contrasted Soft Cell with other major players in synth-pop who came before them, and I think that context is vital to understanding why this album is so indispensably important. Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret is, quite simply, the first great gay synthesiser album. Growing up in America, the rock and roll heartland, it’s hard to escape the understanding that electronic music is inherently gay-coded. But that’s an impression you won’t get from that first generation of artists, who presented as unpretentiously butch, and were more interested in singing about factories, spaceships, and telephone lines than about sex or romance with anybody. The deep relationship between queer culture and the music synthesiser simply wouldn’t have blossomed the way it did without Soft Cell, and the unforgettable worldwide success they achieved with “Tainted Love.” Without that foot in the door, the rise of groups like Bronski Beat, Erasure, and the Pet Shop Boys later in the 80s would’ve been unthinkable. That alone makes Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret a piece of essential listening for anyone seeking to understand the history of electronic music.

While Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret remains Soft Cell’s great masterpiece, and they never reached the same heights of commercial success again, they went on to release two additional studio LPs before disbanding in the mid-1980s. Marc Almond went on to have a fairly successful career as a solo artist, bagging a few additional hit singles in the UK, and David Ball became half of the house duo The Grid. The pair did re-unite in 2002, to produce a rather serviceable LP called Cruelty Without Beauty, which explores many of the same themes of their earlier work, albeit through a lens of Information Age dread.

Music: “Caligula Syndrome”

In 2019, we were told to expect the true final report of Soft Cell, in the form of a grand farewell concert entitled “Say Hello, Wave Good-Bye”--a title pulled from one of the singles off Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret. But, for all of the hype, it looks like that really won’t be the end for them after all, as Soft Cell have announced yet another reunion in 2021, and another new studio album in the works. So we’ll have to see what else these two have in store!

Overall, my favourite track on Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret is the single “Bedsitter.” It’s all about questioning whether the life of hedonistic excess is really worth it in the end. It’s about those moments one spends between benders, binges, and flings, gripped by emptiness and self-doubt. Therefore, the presence of “Bedsitter” adds some nuance, and undercuts a lot of the easy, simple conclusions we’re tempted to make, from a surface-level reading of the album as a free-love bonanza. With languid and melancholy verses clashing with a disconcertingly anthemic refrain, it’s filled with tension from within, and despite its lack of external conflict, it comes across as one of the more unsettling tracks we have to choose from. That’s all for today. Thanks for listening!

Music: “Bedsitter”

#music #great albums #album review #album reviews #synth-pop #synth pop #synthpop #soft cell #marc almond

[iselsis]

Unholy Matrimony 2

Jack had left early in the morning two days later for his meeting with Mr. Wayne, and Tim had been waiting in the grand foyer almost without a break ever since.

He knew, like, intellectually, the Mr. Wayne wouldn’t buy him, because, duh, Batman, but he was having a hard time convincing his body of that. His heart pounded wildly, his hands were clammy and gross, and his stomach roiled, both with heat pain and at the thick scent of distress and pheromones in the room. Janet had tried to order him to his room, but he kept sneaking back, and eventually, she just gave up and opened windows.

In the end, he decided that he was less worried about what would happen if Mr. Wayne bought him, and more worried about what would happen when he didn’t. His parents were going to be furious, and while he kind of hoped that they’d just spend a lot of time thinking about what to do next, go on another trip, and forget, like they usually did with commitments they made to him, he didn’t think that that was going to happen this time.

After a few hours, Janet wordlessly stepped into the room. Neither of his parents had spoken to him since the first morning except to snap order and make absolutely sure how much of a disappointment he was. Instead of acknowledging him or snapping at him to stop making her house smell like a crime scene, she leaned against the banister to watch the front door with him. He supposed that meant that his dad would be back soon, and his gut wrenched again. He wasn’t sure if that would be good or bad, but at least it would mean an end to the waiting.

It was only a few more minute before they heard the Drake’s rental (they were never in town long enough to need their own car) roar up the front drive with a worrying speed. His dad was either really excited, or really mad. Tim was leaning towards mad, given the whole “trying to sell my kid to the unholy terror of the night” thing, but that wasn’t assured, he realized. He might have drastically mistyped Batman, and the real Bruce Wayne was more of a “do as I say and not as I do” type person, or maybe he didn’t really mind child brides. Like, he’d stop a grab & go rape, but if they were, like, married, then maybe he wouldn’t really mind.

The door flew open and Jack stormed into the foyer, his whole body and scent screaming rage.

Tim breathed a quiet sigh of relief. He wasn’t getting married, then.

Janet frowned in confusion. “He refused.”

“Refused? Refusing is one thing, but that bastard,” Jack snarled, hurling his briefcase at the floor, where it landed on its spine with a resounding crack and an eruption of papers. “That absolute bastard had the nerve to lecture me about how we should ‘respect and treasure our son’ and ‘cherish the time we have with him.’”

Oh, that was… That was beautiful. Poetic. The small part of him that had been worried about Mr. Wayne actually wanting him that way curled up and died of laughter. The thought of his parents actually following through on Mr. Wayne’s suggestion and respecting him and cherishing their time with him, though, was just too much.

Jack turned and shot a glare at Tim, like it was his fault that Mr. Wayne didn’t want to buy him, and Tim struggled to keep his grin in check.

He must not have been able to keep his amusement from his scent, because his father’s expression darkened, and he stalked toward Tim.

“You think that this is funny, bitch?” Jack snatched Tim’s collar before Tim could make a run for it and shook him harshly.

Tim stumbled, throwing his head back in submission to bare his throat. Jack growled and slapped Tim hard across the face with enough force to send him crashing to the ground.

His head hit the tile hard, making his vision swim with disjointed shapes and blurred edges. He tried to get up, but his father’s shoe slammed into his ribs and he was down again with a cry of pain. The next kick landed in his stomach, then another to his ribs, then his mother’s voice was saying something quietly that Tim couldn’t hear over the pounding of his heart in his ears.

“He deserves it, pompous little omega brat!” Jack snapped venomously.

Tim chanced a glance up, but found only a furious glare from his father and a cool, calculating stare from his mother.

“True.” She lifted her chin so that she was looking down her nose at Tim even more than she had been before. “But we won’t get as good a price for him if he’s broken and ugly. His only asset is his pretty face, dear. Luthor or Queen might be interested if he looks decent.”

A small, ridiculous part of Tim was thrilled, because calling him pretty was the nicest thing his mom had said about him in years. A larger part of Tim cringed at the idea of having to marry Lex Luthor or Oliver Queen. Mr. Wayne was Batman, which meant that of course he would never agree to marry a kid. Tim was sure that the drunken playboy role was just an act.

Lex Luthor, from what he had overheard from his parents, was arrogant, cruel, manipulative, and completely amoral, and that was just with his business partners. Tim was sure that he wouldn’t object to being given a child bride, and Tim also knew that his parents had wanted a deal with Luthor almost as badly as they wanted a deal with Wayne.

Oliver Queen, he knew less about. He did know that he was the CEO of Queen Industries. His parents didn’t think much of him. He was apparently what Bruce Wayne pretended to be: a drunk playboy with too much money and low moral character. He was a useful idiot, though, and they might try to get the better of him with a stilted business deal and a young omega. For all those faults, though, Tim was pretty sure that he wasn’t a criminal.

Jack growled and kicked Tim once more before storming out of the room.

Janet’s lips curled into a frown of distaste. She didn’t have to say anything to communicate just how disappointed she was. After a few moments, she calmly followed her husband out of the room.

Tim tried to get up, but it hurt too much to move. He lay there, curled up in a fetal position on the tile floor, where at least the icy tiles numbed the pain of his bruises and heat, for a long time.

Finally, Tim dragged himself up off the floor, and up two flights of stairs to his bedroom. If he even had his own house, he was going to get a ground floor bedroom, like a sensible person. Or maybe he’d just take suppressants for the heat, and stay away from angry alphas.

Tim slipped into his room and shut the door behind him louder than he would have normally dared with his parents home, but he was hurt, and they were already mad, so he didn’t think it mattered if he slammed the door.

Tim wanted to just curl up into a ball and fall asleep for the next five years, but he had research to do first.

He dragged his laptop out from under his bed, where he’d hidden it in case his dad took it like he’d taken Tim’s phone. Jack had said that Tim didn’t need it anymore, but Tim had a feeling that it was really more out of a fear that Tim would go on social media and paint his parents and their company in a bad light in an attempt to get out of a marriage.

Tim was smart, though, or at the very least, smarter than that.

Options were limited for omegas. He could live on the streets, but he doubted he’d survive long without a pack. Jason Todd had done it, but Jason Todd was an alpha and he was strong enough that Batman had impulse-adopted him to be his Robin. If Tim wanted a prayer of survival, he’d probably have to find a pimp or an alpha. He didn’t want to, but if his other option was Luthor… He’d have to see.

Foster care, especially in Gotham, was basically just the prostitute option. He’d have a guaranteed roof, and probably food, but he wouldn’t get to keep his money and his parents would probably be able to get him back. Gotham’s omega group homes were also hotbeds for abuse without pay.

Tim’s main problem was that what his parents were doing wasn’t technically illegal. Even though omegas weren’t legally considered property anymore, they were second class citizens. If their parents wanted, they could marry them off to any alpha they wanted. Most didn’t anymore, but most also weren’t negotiating multimillion-dollar business deals. His new husband would be his guardian until he was eighteen, and he couldn’t even be divorced until then.

At the very least, Tim was the only one in the marriage who could request a divorce. Something about the alpha assuming responsibility since the omega had little real-world experience before the marriage. If he wanted, once he was eighteen, he could just be really really annoying until whatever alpha married him agreed to give him a severance check and alimony.

That plan probably wouldn’t work. There weren’t any rules about beating your omega for being a brat, or marital rape.

He needed to make a plan, and for that, he needed information.

A search on Lex Luthor turned up relatively innocuous results, until Tim started trying to get around any doctoring of the algorithm by adding keywords like crime and conspiracy. Most people turned their noses up as soon as the word conspiracy was uttered, but Tim had figured out that the richest man in Gotham ran around town dressed as a bat and beating people up with his underage accomplice all because of an acrobatic move. Small clues were important, and rich people are weird.

It turned out that the internet suspected Lex Luthor of a lot. Illegal weapons deals, links to supervillains, human testing, abuse, rape, murder. There wasn’t much that he wasn’t suspected of. Several of his more vocal accusers had turned up “suicided” as some had termed it. There was one, a CK, whose allegations of Luthor’s crimes was so extensive that Tim wasn’t sure if it could actually be true that one man had committed so many crimes.

Luthor was a hard no. Tim would rather chance the streets. Tim would rather die. Heck, if he wanted to die, marrying Luthor would probably take care of that pretty quickly.

Oliver Queen was a different story. Tim couldn’t find many accusations against him of anything, and the accusations he did find were mostly just being a drunkard and a whore. He didn’t seem so bad, or so smart. He seemed like he’d be nice enough, and Tim might even be able to manipulate Mr. Queen into letting him go to school. He’d probably be safer than the streets even if he couldn’t, and if he wasn’t, then at least the streets of Star City weren’t nearly as dangerous as the streets of Gotham.

It struck him while he was looking at a photo of Mr. Queen at a charity gala for polio or rickets or something. Mr. Queen’s beard seemed…familiar.

There was no way.

Tim quickly split the screen and pulled up every picture the public had of Star City’s Green Arrow on one side, comparing it to the picture of Oliver Queen from the newspaper.

How.

Had.

No one.

Noticed?

The facial hair was the exact same, the build, the hair color. Wouldn’t it be more efficient to wear a mask over his mouth and nose than over his eyes? It would take away the risk of the domino slipping over his eyes and actually cover extremely identifiable marks.

His heart sank. Mr. Wayne wouldn’t buy him, because he was a hero. Mr. Queen was a hero too.

He was being sold to Luthor.

#batman #bruce wayne is a good dad #tim drake #bruce wayne #omega tim drake #alpha beta omega #alpha bruce wayne #adoption #accidental baby acquisition #fake marriage au

[neoistic]

what's going on with STAYs?

the hyunjin (and woojin) situation - a (very long) rant

DISCLAIMER : This post was not meant to slander Hwang Hyunjin or Stray Kids, it is intended to educate others on their problematic behaviour.

I'm gonna start at the beginning of all this. So unless you a.) live under a rock or b.) unlike the rest of us you have a life, then you have possibly heard of the idol bullying scandals. If you dont know what that is, I'll give a brief summary. A bunch of idols were being accused by former middle school or high school classmates of bullying. It started with Soojin of (G)I-dle and then the whole thing started rippling. Aisha of Everglow, Kihyun of MonstaX, Mingyu of SEVENTEEN, and many more. It's even gone as far as SA allegations. Basically everyone and their mothers were being dragged into the mess. However some of these accusation were later to be proven as false. Others have been somewhat half-true. The point is the majority of these idols end up going on a hiatus and stopped contributing in their groups activities for a while. It was a very frustrating situation. There's been apologies, addresses, fights occurring left and right. While these idols were being accused, everybody was like "let's wait for the official statement from the comany and see what is up, and then we make our decision from there. So for now lets stay our best to be neutral". That was the norm for a majority of fandoms. And then there were STAYs.

_____________________________________________________________ I think we've learned in the last five months that STAYs are anything but a normal fandom. After what has happened and the way they chose to behave entirely was embarassing. I feel like toxic STAYs really ruined the name of this fandom when the Woojin situation happened. But after Hyunjin was accused of bullying, they pretty much just shredded any redeeming qualities that fandom had left—all of it—everything went down the drain. Soon enough I feel like people are going to be embarassed to become a STAY or to mention that they're a STAY, because those motherfuckers really screwed this up If some of you're really confused right now, as to why I called STAYs toxic. It's because the base of this fandom is pretty privilege. Ok, let's start with the definition. What is pretty privilege? Pretty privilege is the principle that people who are deemed more attractive (based on societal beauty standards) have an upper hand in the world and are afforded many opportunities that us regular folks don't have. Like most other biases, pretty privilege is something we're all aware of—whether we have experienced it first-hand or not. Yet, it's not often that we are willing to admit or even talk about it, especially if we're on the receiving end of its benefits. This bias, also known as lookism, is defined as “Prejudice or discrimination on the grounds of a person's appearance” and occurs in a variety of settings such as social environments, workplaces and especially in this godforsaken fandom. Let me explain; everything that they do for the boys is simply based on looks. And how do i know that? Because when the baseless accusations that targeted woojin came out one of the things that i kept hearing over and over again was that they always thought he was 'ugly'. And that to me is very intersting because this fandom found him ugly but they didn't say anything, because he was in the same group as their faves. So they kept their mouths shut, and they acted as if they loved him they told him all the sappy bullshit. When he left they decided to pull an "Okay let's tell him how much we miss him, then dump it, and leave it there."

Consequently by cause of his so called 'wrongdoings' you're now telling people "Oh I found him ugly all along, but now I can finally admit it" which is an incredibly pathetic move. They were throwing shit everywhere based off unsubstantiated allegations. Through this I realised that everything goes down to looks. Because when this exact same thing happened to Hyunjin and his accusations, which at the time we did not know the legitimacy of it, the first thing they chose to tweet was"uhmm hyunjin is too cute to be a bully," say what now? You wanted to tell me you decide whether someone is capable of bullying based on their looks, how is that supposed work. Not everybody's heart is as beautiful as their face, I'm just saying. Like why on earth would you think that Hyunjin isn't a bully based on the fact that he's handsome but you believe the accusation about Woojin based off the fact that he is quote 'ugly'. You see the parallel difference between their behaviour towards them and that's because all they care about is looks and they will do just about anything to garner the attention of these boys. Yes, you're right, the reason behind their doings is because they know pefectly well that Stray Kids read their comment. Their defending them because they are desperately wanting their faves to pay attention to them. And they think by letting Hyunjin get away with everything, he would thank them for it.

_____________________________________________________________

Exhibit B; When the posts against Woojin came out the very first thing they told us was that, you have to believe the victim no matter what. It got to the point where even when we tried to reason with them about how there was no solid evidence, all they said was how they would rather believe a possible liar then a possible r4pist. ikr, oh. my. gosh. However when it's Hyunjin's turn to get blamed, believing the victim doesn't matter anymore. The actuality that people were already putting a judgement on the victim, and refusing to hear them out is just shocking to me.

The energy was completely different, for some crazy reason it didn't matter when it came to Hyunjin. When it came to Woojin we had to believe the victim because it's so damn important, and it got to the point that people were saying they believed Stray Kids that he 'bullied' them. Although Stray Kids didn't say anything, they never said a peep, a word, nothing. Everyone kept saying I believe Felix saying #8, i believe Chan and his vlive, are you for real? First of all what is Felix supposed to say then?? The group has 8 members not nine, is he supposed to put #9 in? #13? #24?? And with Chan he has already clarified that his statement on vlive that time wasn't about Woojin.

Then they were diagnosing them them of depression they were victimizing the poor boys of something they were not a victim of. So not are they speaking for them, they're telling us that you believe them off what you've stuff in their mouths, not things they said themsleves. On the other hand when Hyunjin was accused of bullying no we don't believe them we believe Hyunjin. What? Do you know him personally or what? You dont! I don't know what's the matter with you people. This fandom is just a no. You guys are left with no redeeming qualities whatsoever. Then you know what it gets even worse because if you think this is bad. It's not even half of it. How does it get worse? They were people saying that "It's bullying, its normal everybody does it," I don't know what universe you live in, but where I live down here, on earth bullying isn't something that everybody comes around and do. It's not a phase in life. "From ages 15-20 you're a bully" That doesn't happen it's not a chapter in life that everyone goes through like puberty, that's not what happens with bullying. You dont just wake up and go through a phase in you life that is inevitable, that you have to be a bully and a jerk to everybody, that's not a thing. You can't just sit here and justify bullying. Because how are you supposed to sit here and say that bullying is normal and that everybody does but when Woojin does it... You see where I'm going with this right? They said it wasn't okay for Woojin to bully Stray Kids and that he is a horrible person "how could he?" But then you bend over and said "Bullying is okay because Hyunjin is the one doing it" When he is on the receiving end it wasn't okay, though when he was the one administering it was completely fine and forgivable.

Do you not see how problematic you're being right now? You're justifying bullying because you think he's pretty? Are you playing with me? I read his statement and he apologized for his immature and insensitive demeanor, even he wasn't justifying it. the reason behind me mentioning this is because even JYP themselves specified that they would do a better job at picking trainees. That alone says something. They forthrightly threw him under the bus. Why would they do something like that? Because the allegations were true. Here's the thing, Hyunjin has not admitted to bullying anybody, what he has admitted to was being immature and hurting people with the way he spoke. That statement felt like he was beating around the bush about a lot of things. It's like "ok i hurt someone, I can't justify it, therefore I'm sorry" Okay but did u bully anybody? yes or no? That wasn't clarified. You guys can decide for your selves, but this was Hyunjin's and his former teacher's statement.

_____________________________________________________________

The message I'm trying to get accross from all this is that Stray Kids have way more power over you than you realized, and that is definitely not okay. To the point where you are throwing your morals away, just to defend them. You know what? no idol should have influence over you like that. I don't care how good looking, how hot, how sweet, how talented they are. I don't care if they grew up with a single mother and a story so sad it will make Simon Cowell cry. I don't care how many time they have supported the lgbtq+ community. I don't give a damn about how adorable they act on camera with their members. You can not validate immoral actions whatsoever. And no, you absolutely can not sit here being a desperate, self-absorbed, pick-me, dusty girl for a man who doesn't even know you.

Exhibit C; Before we end this I want to clarify something. STAYs did not became toxic because of the Woojin fiasco, this fandom always was toxic, and the Woojin situation simply revealed that. The facts are that they were always toxic, they were always messed up, they were always fake. The wreckage with Woojin showed us their true colors. That is the reality, my friends. As of now this fandom is directly taking the crown for trashiest fandom alive in kpop. At this degree I honestly don't know what else to say. I have no respect left for them. I do though want to say that I am genuinely sorry to all the kind STAYs, I'm sorry that you have to deal with this. Because in the near future I don't see this issue going away. Since Stray Kids is becoming more and more popular and it's never going to stop they're going to keep getting bigger and bigger, the story will just become more aparent. Thank you for listening to my long rant. And at the end of the day all I can say to STAYs is good luck, cause you'll need it.

_____________________________________________________________

anywho stream Still Dream

Sources:

https://www.myimperfectlife.com/features/pretty-privilege

https://www.koreaboo.com/series/stray-kids-hyunjin-bullying-allegation/

#stray kids #kim woojin #skz #bang chan #lee felix #changbin #seungmin #han jisung #lee know #i.n #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #jeongin #kpop #hyunjin stray kids #still dream #cubs #jyp entertainment #Youtube

[firebrands]

the mind-body problem | steve/tony

Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, M (for later parts), 4.5k | Stony Bingo Prompt: Off the Record | on ao3

Steve stares at the card in his hands. It's just a little lighter than cream, almost white; dark letters embossed, sans-serif. PEPPER POTTS.

He'd met Ms. Potts a month or so ago, in a conference that was supposed to be attended by the famous Tony Stark. Steve's been in the energy beat long enough not to expect attendance, but he does know to take notice when she appears. Potts is the only direct line to Stark, and he needs to speak to him, at least if the mountain of research he’s done is true. Steve’s done his fair share of investigative reporting—but it’s never been related to what this could be, and this could be… Steve takes a deep breath, steadying himself and stopping his train of thought.

“This should probably be lodged under the nation beat, Pete,” he’d said, earlier that day when the editorial team had met to discuss their longer-form stories.

“They’re full up with the Stern inquiry,” Pete, Steve’s editor, said. He didn’t even look up from his notebook as he spoke. “We’re short on hands for this. And you’ve covered Stark long enough.”

“I’ve barely covered Stark, I haven’t even met him,” Steve said.

“Do you not want the story?” Pete’s tone was sharp. Annoyed.

“Of course I want the story!” Steve huffed. “But I don’t want any of those guys taking it from me midway just because the senate hearing ends early. So.”

“Yeah, okay. Fine.” Pete waved Steve off. “Good luck.”

Steve had never intended to end up in the energy beat—he barely knew enough about science on the get- go. But as it was in newsrooms, when one team was short staffed, the most junior staff had to fill in. That was almost three years ago, when Steve had started in the New York Bulletin, writing about culture, art. Next thing he knew he was given a press pass for a two-day green energy summit, then that was it. Steve Rogers, senior reporter for the Energy and Environment section of the New York Bulletin.

Steve taps the card on the table, bites his lip, then pulls out his phone to type out a message.

Steve stares down at his phone.

Then stares some more.

He wasn’t expecting a reply, at least not any time soon; he was ready to go to their office and set up an appointment with her assistant’s assistant’s assistant, but instead, he’s here. In direct communication with the closest line to Tony Stark.

Steve doesn’t even bother checking his schedule before accepting the appointment. He lets out a shaky breath. This seems too good to be true. Just like that—he checks the timestamps of their messages—in the span of 2 minutes, he’s secured an interview with one of the richest and most powerful men in the country.

He needs to find something to wear.

***

Steve sucks on his bottom lip as the elevator begins its ascent. Steve checks his bag for his recorder, notebook, and pen. He checked it twice before leaving the office, once again in the cab, and lastly once more as he pulled out his wallet to hand over his ID for a security pass.

He’s not usually nervous; he’s met his fair share of C-suite executives before. But he’s heard about Stark, about how he behaves during interviews in the few time he grants them. Flippant, wilfully obtuse, and too wildly charismatic for you to do anything about it at the moment. Disarming, his friend from other papers had said simply. Another suggested that Steve check his questions before agreeing to end the interview, because Stark had the talent to take you for a ride you never asked to go on, and make you happy to be on it all the while.

The elevator doors slide open to an office bathed in the afternoon light. Pepper Potts is standing at the entrance, and reaches out to shake Steve’s hand.

“It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Rogers,” she says, smiling down at him.

“You too,” Steve says, shifting his bag on his shoulder. “Thanks for setting this up. We’re really happy to be able to interview Mr. Stark.”

Ms. Potts nods, and gestures towards large double doors at the end of the carpeted hallway. “Let’s go,” she says, and Steve follows, fighting the urge to rifle through his bag again, just once more.

Ms. Potts knocks on the door and peeks her head in. “It’s Steve Rogers from the New York Bulletin.”

The beat, then the door swings wide open to reveal Tony Stark. “Hey Steve, nice to meet you.” He extends his hand, and Steve shakes it.

Here’s the thing about Steve, he realizes glumly: he’s always been very good at recognizing things that are aesthetically pleasing. It’s why he initially chose to focus on art and culture. It’s why he can’t help but feel a little overwhelmed by how absolutely gorgeous Tony Stark actually is. Sure, he’s seen photos, and seen Stark from a distance in the few times he’d deigned to make an appearance at events. But seeing him here now, dressed in a crisp white dress shirt—top three buttons undone and sleeves rolled up—Steve can’t help but feel a little helpless when faced with such immediate beauty.

Stark directs him to a sitting area. “Coffee? Tea?” he asks, taking a seat directly across Steve.

“Tea is fine,” Steve says, and Stark nods at Pepper, who nods back. Steve sets down his bag and pulls out the tools of the trade: his recorder, his notebook, his pen.

“Your office looks lovely,” Steve says, hazarding small talk.

“Thank you. It was all Pepper,” Stark says, leaning back on the couch, relaxing.

Without thinking, Steve inches forward—then he catches himself and tries to settle into his chair nonchalantly.

“Is that a Newman?” Steve asks, nodding at the black and white painting behind Stark.

“Hm?” Stark furrows his brow, then follows Steve’s line of sight. “Ah, is it?” He smiles a little to himself, then looks up when the door opens, and a man walks in with two steaming cups.

They remain silent as their drinks are placed in front of them. Tony takes a sip of what Steve assumes to be an espresso.

Steve clears his throat. “So, Mr. Stark. I’ll begin recording now, if you don’t mind?”

“I don’t,” Stark says, placing his cup carefully back on its saucer. It doesn’t make a sound.

Steve doesn’t want to face why he’s cataloging all of this. Instead, he nods, turns on his recorder, and asks Tony: “Let’s start with when you first launched the energy arm of SI. Can you tell me about the thought process and rationale for it?”

Stark nods, leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees.

Steve catches a whiff of Stark’s perfume. He swallows, and focuses on his pen poised on top of his notebook, ready to write.

“What are the real questions you want to ask, Steve?” Stark tilts his head a little, clearly assessing Steve.

Steve frowns. “These are the questions I’d like to ask, Mr. Stark.”

Stark sighs. “It was in ‘99 when we first began investing in R&D for more sustainable industries.”

As the interview goes on, Steve feels less and less inclined to be on his guard; Stark responds to his questions directly and completely. It’s likely because he’d been prepared by his team, but it’s nice to know that Stark isn’t the asshole everyone paints him to be. But then again, it could also just be something Steve’s gotten used to at this point: Stark doesn’t see him as a threat. No one ever does. That’s why Steve’s so good at getting scoops over other reporters, overzealous and loud and brash, always angling for an interesting story. No one ever expects Steve, quiet and small, to go straight for the jugular.

When Steve gets to his last question, he pauses to take a breath.

There have been allegations that SI’s energy business is just a front. I’d like to know what you think of those allegations.

Steve asks the question.

If he hadn’t been watching Stark so closely, he would’ve missed the barely perceptible tightening of Stark’s jaw, or the way he pushes his glasses up his nose, fully covering his eyes, now.

“Allegations are just that,” Stark says, and Steve finally sees the flippancy everyone had warned him about. “If there’s any basis to them, then whoever’s saying this should be talking to my lawyers.”

Steve nods, scratching Stark’s words onto his pad. “Anything else?” Steve asks, because Stark’s been much more verbose than that in the past half-hour they’d been speaking.

“So this is what the song and dance has been about,” Stark says, smirking.

Steve feels his hackles rise, and he shakes his head. “I am doing a story on SI’s energy business. It’ll be celebrating a decade at the start of next year,” he says, keeping his voice level. “But in the course of my research, I came across these sentiments. I think it’s only fair that I ask your opinion on them,”

The smirk on Stark’s face stays in place. “Fair,” he says, arching his eyebrow. “Sure,” he says, his tone a touch condescending.

Worry pools in Steve’s belly; he can’t afford to be on Stark’s bad side, not if he wants to still cover SI events. “Have you heard these allegations before?”

“Can’t say that I have,” Stark responds, shrugging. “But I figure Hammer’s got something to say about it.”

The thought had crossed Steve’s mind, but it seemed baseless to bring up. He thinks back on the massive Excel sheet he had worked on, cross-referencing numbers and seeing how they didn’t add up. Maybe Stark doesn’t know—and that hypothesis, well. It tracks.

“He doesn’t,” Steve says. “Not about your energy arm, at least,” he adds, smiling at Stark and hoping that he gets the joke.

Stark snorts, and that seems to put him in better spirits. “Yeah, and now you’re going to ask what I’m working on, huh?”

Steve bites back a grin. “Well, Mr. Stark, I wasn’t. But now that you bring it up…”

Stark chuckles, then motions to Steve’s recorder.

“Off the record, then,” Steve agrees, and someone in Stark’s PR department definitely dropped the ball on this, because off the record isn’t real. It’s not as if people can just pretend they didn’t hear something, and sure, Steve isn’t going to include this in the story, but he’ll know, and sometimes, that’s all it takes.

“We’re in the testing phases for a new missile,” Stark says, and then there seems to be a real spark in Stark’s eyes, as if finally he’s awake.

“What’s new about it?” Steve asks, tucking his pen into the binding of his notebook. He’s half-afraid to look up at Stark again, luminous with excitement and impossibly more gorgeous. Now that the interview is truly done, it seems like his traitorous brain lets go over its tight grip of professionalism.

“Oh, Steve, it’s magnificent. I developed this new repulsor technology that—” Stark catches himself. “You’re sure you work for the Bulletin, right?” he asks, scrutinizing Steve closely.

Steve holds up his press ID. “No corporate espionage here,” he says.

Stark laughs, eyes crinkling up, and Steve wants to reach out and touch him, wants to make him laugh again like that. Instead, he grips his notebook just a little bit tighter.

***

Two weeks later, Steve is at a Stark Industries event. It’s about something called “Intelli-Crops” which Steve hates the name of, but he can’t help but feel impressed by the science behind it.

Steve is even more impressed (so much so that he nearly drops his drink) when Tony Stark walks out on stage to explain the product himself. Stark is singular in the way he immediately draws all the attention in the room; he walks across the stage and gestures as the presentation flows behind him. Only after a few seconds of watching Stark does Steve realize with a jolt that he isn’t recording Stark’s speech. He pulls out his notebook and takes notes, eyes fixed on Stark’s muscular form all the while.

 Steve is still standing by the bar, going through his notes and double checking the press release included in the media packet when he feels a presence beside him.

“Steve Rogers. Fancy seeing you here.”

Steve’s head snaps up at the voice he’d gotten very familiar with as he’d spent hours transcribing their conversation. Then he’d listened again for good measure, just to make sure he didn’t miss anything. And if he listened to Stark’s voice sometimes in the privacy of his apartment then that’s nobody’s business but his own.

“Mr. Stark,” Steve says, turning to him. “I can’t help but say the same to you.”

“Well it is a Stark Industries event,” Stark answers, eyebrow cocked.

“That didn’t seem to matter much in all the other events I’d attended,” Steve says, snorting a little.

“You wound me,” Stark says.

“I’m sure you can afford the treatment,” Steve says, downing the last of his whiskey. It’s his second of the night, which means he’s had enough. He’s already pretty loose at it is, palling around with Stark like he isn’t Tony Stark, Billionaire Genius Extraordinaire. He sets down his glass and nods at Stark. “It was nice seeing you, Mr. Stark,” he says, extending his hand.

Stark pouts. “What, no follow up questions for me?”

Steve very nearly says, how about I follow you up to your room instead but he still has a grasp on reality. Instead, he shakes his head. “Thank you for the excellent presentation, booze, and dinner, Mr. Stark.”

“Call me Tony, Steve,” Stark huffs. “The program’s done, doesn’t that mean you’re off the clock?”

Steve levels Stark with a look. “How do you think reporters work?”

“Dunno, really,” Stark says, and Steve has a feeling that this isn’t Stark’s first drink of the night. Somehow, that makes him feel a bit braver. He shifts his gaze and looks around the room, worried that Stark will notice that he’s staring.

“But I’d like to learn, if you’ll tell me.”

Steve’s gaze snaps back to Stark, cheeks heating up at the comment and the way Stark’s tone is just a little shy of innuendo.

“I—” Steve stammers. He doesn’t know what to do with that, with flirting, has never known what to do, really, and Bucky is too far away for him to ask.

Steve’s immediate reaction when in this position is run. “Well, Mr. Stark,” he says, trying again to keep his voice even.

“It’s Tony,” Stark frowns. “Seriously, it kills me every time you call me that.”

Steve scrunches up his face. “Okay, Tony. It was nice chatting with you, but I need to send this story in so it makes tomorrow’s paper.”

Stark sighs, then immediately brightens like he has an idea. He turns to Steve with a smile. “How about,” he pauses, resting his hand on Steve’s arm, just above his elbow. “How about you type up your story in my office, and we keep drinking there?”

There are many thoughts that spring to Steve’s mind. First, is that this is a great way to build a relationship with a source. Second, Stark’s hand is warm against the thick fabric of Steve’s shirt. Third, and this is (un)fortunately what spills out of his mouth: “Why me? There are so many other people you could drink with here.”

Stark snorts, as if Steve has said something stupid, which is annoying. “Other people are boring. You’re interesting,” Stark says, like that explains everything. “Let’s go.”

So they go.

Stark’s office floor is dark when they arrive, but lights turn on as they walk towards his office. Steve looks around, wondering who’s flipping the switches, then sees Stark’s fingers dancing along his keyboard, which is answer enough.

Stark motions to the couch, and a strange sense of deja vu floats into Steve’s mind as he settles in, pulling out his laptop.

Stark busies himself by making drinks: “Neat or on the rocks?”

“Neat,” Steve answers, not looking up from his laptop as he types. Nervous energy is beginning to build in his belly, and he won’t admit to himself why he’s so intent on immediately finishing this story. Thankfully he’d gotten to start it midway through the program.

“A man after my own heart,” Stark says before plopping down jovially beside Steve on the couch, handing Steve a drink before taking a sip of his own.

“That’s your laptop?” Stark asks, frowning down at Steve’s beat up ThinkPad.

“Office-issued,” Steve answers. “And I like the red button.”

“He likes the red button,” Stark murmurs to himself, disbelief clear in his tone.

They’re silent for a while, the only sounds of the room are Steve’s fingers on the keyboard. Beside him, Stark scrolls through his phone.

“So walk me through your process,” Stark says, setting his phone down and turning to look at Steve.

Steve takes a drink to steady himself. “Well,” he says, still not looking up as he types. “Right now I’m just plugging in some quotes from your presentation.”

Stark hums in response. “You memorized what I said?”

“What? No,” Steve holds up his notebook. “I wrote it down.”

Stark puts down his drink and peers closely at the page. “I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this, but you have awful handwriting.”

A laugh bursts out of Steve, unbidden, and Tony smiles in response. “Seriously though, shorthand?”

Steve can’t help but feel a little buzz go through him, but of course Stark knows what shorthand is, he’s a genius.

“Yeah, I taught myself in college,” Steve answers.

“That’s really cool,” Stark says. “Can I see more?”

Steve shrugs and hands his notebook over. “I’m almost done,” he says.

“No rush,” Stark replies, but he’s not looking at Steve anymore. He flips through Steve’s notebook, and Steve focuses on finishing his story instead of getting jealous over pieces of paper.

Another drink later and Steve triumphantly shuts his laptop. “Sent!” he crows, and downs the rest of his whiskey.

Stark grins at him. “Congratulations!” He says. “I hope you wrote something nice about me.”

“Of course I did. You let me use your WiFi,” Steve says, matching Stark’s grin with his own.

“If only your colleagues were so easily swayed,” Stark says, sighing dramatically.

Steve huffs out a laugh, putting away his laptop. “Well, it’s hard to write badly about you when it comes to what you’re doing for sustainability,” he admits.

“Is that so?”

Steve shrugs. “I follow the story. So far what you’ve been telling good ones.” The whiskey is getting to his head, but he still has control over himself not to say more, not to pry and allude to what he’d been uncovering.

Besides, just like Stark said earlier: he’s off the clock, now. Or at least, that’s what he tells himself, trying to focus instead on the heat radiating off Stark, flushed pink from the alcohol. He’s strikingly gorgeous, no matter the setting, but to know that only Steve is seeing him like this, in this moment—it makes Steve feel reckless. It’s a good feeling.

Stark nods, trying to look sage. It makes Steve laugh, again. It’s ridiculous, really.

“So, Steve Rogers,” Stark says.

A beat passes.

“So, Tony Stark,” Steve prompts, teasing.

Stark’s gaze snaps to his. “Cheeky,” he accuses.

“Drunk,” Steve says just as quickly.

Stark laughs. “God, who are you? Walking in here and sassing me like this,” Stark says, more to himself.

Steve’s thankful that the desk light is the only thing illuminating the room; he hopes it hides the heat in his cheeks.

“Well, I have been writing about energy and the environment for the Bulletin for the past three years,” he ventures.

Stark turns to him, a pleasant quirk to his lips. He nods. “And before that?”

Steve snorts. “I don’t know, why does it matter?”

“I just want to get to know you, is all,” Stark says airily, before finishing the rest of his drink.

Stark may be relaxed about this, but Steve can’t help but feel that tension has settled in the air. He knows better to sit any closer to Stark—he’s heard those stories, too. The man’s just as much a philanthropist as he is a philanderer, and Steve would never be stupid enough to get in bed with someone like him. Not that Steve has indicted Stark on his ways, but that—he’s one of the most important men in America. Steve can’t afford to get wrapped up in all that and manage to uphold journalistic integrity.

Still, it’s not like he has to get wrapped up in that, he reasons with himself. It could be a one-off, and neither of them would ever speak about it again, and he could go on to cover events that Stark would never show up for anyway.

Of course, that’s all to say that Stark is attracted to him, too. Which is impossible, of course, but then again—why else would he have invited Steve up to his office, made him drinks? Why else is his knee pressed against Steve’s thigh, legs spread open tantalizingly?

Steve swallows.

“Maybe another time,” he says, motioning to get up. Stark grabs his wrist, sending a jolt through Steve. His hand is warm, and his fingers fit perfectly around Steve’s wrist.

“Look, Steve,” Stark says, looking away for a moment and then up to meet Steve’s gaze. “Tell me if i’m reading this wrong, but…”

Stark shifts a little closer and Steve can smell his cologne, rich and heady mixed with the smell of whiskey. His hand slides up Steve’s arm and gently cups Steve’s jaw.

Steve reminds himself to breathe.

Stark’s thumb strokes his cheek.

The world is magnificently silent. Steve isn’t imagining it when he hears the soft rustle of Stark’s clothes as he moves even closer, and Steve’s eyes flutter shut when their lips finally meet.

Stark’s lips are soft, and the kiss is gentle, almost tentative. It ends too quickly, and Steve chases after Stark as he pulls away, crashing their lips together, parting his mouth open, swiping his tongue along Stark’s. It’s electric, the slide of Stark’s lips against his, the hard press of Stark’s body as Stark leans over him, pushes him down onto the couch.

But Steve has another idea in mind, shifting and swinging a leg over Stark’s lap to straddle him.

“Fucking hell, Steve,” Stark moans when he pulls away.

Steve blushes, and kisses him again before he can say anything else that could be embarrassing.

Stark runs his hand through Steve’s hair, then tugs his head back sharply so he can kiss down Steve’s throat.

“Ah, Mr. St—”

Stark tuts, and bites on Steve’s neck just for good measure. “What did I say you should call me?” He licks the swath of skin, soothing it, and making Steve’s hips buck in pleasure.

“Tony,” Steve breathes out, his vision blurring as Tony’s other hand slides around his waist and under his shirt. “Tony, Tony, Tony.”

Tony’s hand slides through Steve’s hair again, resting just above the base of his neck, “I like the way you say my name,” he murmurs, just before pulling Steve into another searing kiss. His other hand reaches up to grasp at the knot of Steve’s tie, then—Steve pulls away hastily.

“Oh my god,” he breathes out. “Tony—Mr. Stark. I—” Steve clambers off Tony’s lap, uncoordinated and clumsy. “I can’t, we shouldn’t,” he continues to blabber, bending down to pick up his bag. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have,” he says, looking everywhere but Tony, frantically trying to get his bearings. He’s impulsive at best, and Tony’s lips were so soft, and he looked so beautiful under the dim glow of the lamplight, and Steve was more than two drinks in. He nearly stumbles over himself in his hurry to get to the door. Only then does he register through the din of alarm bells ringing in his head that Tony was speaking to him.

“Steve, Steve, wait,” Tony says, and Steve walks briskly down the unlit hallway towards the elevator.

Unfortunately, Tony catches up to him before the doors slide open.

“Sorry for coming on to you like that, I thought,” Tony says, scratching the back of his neck.

Steve curses himself for noticing how rumpled he looks, how his tie is askew. Steve very badly wants to kiss him again, wants to run his hands through Tony’s hair, see him messed up. Wants to hear Tony panting under him, wants to taste his skin, all of it—but he can’t.

He’s a reporter. If he does this, if word gets out—and even if word didn’t get out, how could he maintain any sort of professionalism?

“It’s not your fault,” Steve stammers, pressing the button for the elevator again. “I’m sorry for… all of it. I shouldn’t have come. I hope we can just put this past us and maintain our professional relationship.”

“Our professional relationship,” Tony parrots back.

The door to the elevator slides open.

“Good night, Mr. Stark,” Steve says, stepping in.

Tony is standing frozen in front of him, looking at Steve like a puzzle he can’t make out. It gives Steve some relief.

“Good night, Mr. Rogers,” he says, and with those two words, the relief is wiped from Steve. Still, it’s a small price to pay if it means he can just continue to do his work.

“It’s fine,” Steve says into the empty elevator cabin. “I’m fine.”

#stevetony #stony #stony fic #steve rogers x tony stark #steve x tony #steve rogers #tony stark #things i love #!!!!! please let me know what you think! #i am also once again putting myself through the mortifying ordeal of writing as i post #so i'd love to hear your thoughts on how this could go lmao #things i write

[dwtsfun]

Dancing with the Stars Season 29 Week 10: Let’s Talk

So I spent some extra time really thinking about how I want to approach talking about this week. There are many parts and I want to address and I wanna do it as thoroughly as I can. So first let me get the trivial things out of the way. Tyra looked amazing. I loved the judges’ entrance. CAI looked incredible too. Bruno looked great. Derek’s suit would’ve looked better if it were a different color. Maybe a darker and cooler color would’ve been better, like a green, blue or purple. 

Okay now let me address the elephant in the room. Nelly. So here’s where I stand. He deserves to be in the final as much as anyone else that is there right now. Period. You can dislike it all you want, but he earned his spot. He is not a Skeleton type where he hasn’t improved, can’t dance for shit, talks shit about EVERYONE and expects to be rewarded high scores for terrible dances. From what we have all seen, Nelly seems to be genuinely shocked that he’s being received well and at the fact that he is doing as well as he is. And he’s hasn’t shown a sense of entitlement that Skeleton always had surrounding him. Plus, he minds his business and doesn’t bad mouth the other celebs. So I’m going to fully reject that comparison. It’s asinine.

“But he was the worst dancer left!” Okay. And? Your point? This is not new. We have had plenty of celebs who were not one of the best dancers make it to the finals. Kelly Osbourne made the finals over Aaron Carter and Joanna Krupa. Cristian de la Fuente made it over Mario. Marie Osmond made it over Sabrina Bryan and Jennie Garth. Jerry Rice made it over Lisa Rinna. Bristol Palin and Bill Engvall made it over everyone. Candace and Alek beat out a ton of people. Noah made it in over Nastia. Ginger dumbass (I actually have real issues with this lady) made it in over Wanya. David Ross got second place. Lauren Alaina got in over James van der Beek. And Nelly making it as far as he has should not be shocking. He’s got the biggest name of everyone on the show. He’s not a bad dancer (he’s actually pretty decent and better than most of the people that I just listed). And his journey is the quintessential DWTS journey. The audience loves a person that comes in with no experience, embraces the experience and improves as the weeks go on. So it’s very strange to me that Nelly is garnering this type of reaction because he’s “the worst left”. It’s almost like a lot of fans have never watched this show before. So I have to wonder what is driving this issue with him (I know why and I’m sure you all know too). It’s the same thing that drove (and still drives the uproar) for Jacoby placing higher than Aly back in season 16.

“But what about his sexual assault allegations! He shouldn’t succeed because of those.” Yes, I know those are surrounding him. Yes, I know he’s been arrested. Yes, I know it likely happened (and for those of you that are going to come in here acting like I’m doubting survivors, I am not. But I have a platform and I’m not trying to be sued if anyone on his team comes across this post). I am not absolving him of that. BUT, many of the fans don’t know that. To them, he’s just the really famous rapper that made those couple of songs that they like and has worked with Tim McGraw. He might even be their favorite rapper. We also cannot suddenly choose to take the moral high ground when it comes to Nelly, while still watching and supporting this show. This show has casted several different types of abusers, racists, downright hateful people and alleged MURDERERS since it’s inception. And it sympathizes with them. This is actually a shoe where many stars go so that they can try to rehab their image. So that moral high ground approach just doesn’t work for this show. Especially not when there is another alleged abuser sitting right next to him. You can make the personal choice not to vote for him for whatever reason. That is fine. But you also have to know that your continued support of the show is going to allow them to keep casting these types of celebrities.

“But Skai and Johnny were just better.” Yes. That is very true. AND people weren’t voting for them in the way that they were voting for everybody else. Each of them had already had at least one bottom 2 appearance. It made sense for them to both end up in the bottom 3 on double elimination night and be sent home. It’s actually what should have happened to Ally last season when she ended up in the bottom 2 with James.

“But his dances sucked!” I will get to his dances from Monday later on in the post. But his dances throughout the season largely did not suck. I will give you his first paso. That was a mess. The rest of his dances were decent to very good.

“Women have it harder than men on this show!” Well see, here is where need some more nuance. White men (pros and celebs alike) get rewarded for the bare minimum on this show. The judges will (and have) rip apart a Black, Indigenous or Asian man very easily. I would actually say that white women are more fairly treated than any other group besides their white male counterparts. The rest of us fall below everyone else in the social hierarchy.

Okay. I’ve gone on a lot so I’m going to make these rankings pretty short.

1. Skai and Alan- I am ranking these based on my personal enjoyment of both dances, So if you’ve followed me for a long time, you know that I love me a good Viennese waltz. And this was beautiful. Skai’s top line is gorgeous. She was very elegant. And the balance of confidence and vulnerability was something I have not seen from Skai this season. Her cha-cha was a definite redemption. I thought she did a great job with her hip action. She was loose. She was sure of herself. She was confident. I’m glad Skai got to have a week where everything was just top notch. If she had to leave, this was the perfect note to leave on.

2. Johnny and Britt- I really loved both of these dances as well. I was shocked at how well their salsa went. Johnny seemed to do a much better job of understanding the movement of it and executing it. As for the jazz, it was amazing. I loved it. And I loved that it didn’t seem like the freestyle lite routines that we’re used to seeing when couples are assigned jazz. These two should be incredibly proud of everything that they accomplished. I spent the season comparing Johnny to Evan Lysacek and while I think Evan beats Johnny in ballroom, I think Johnny was the overall better dancer.

3. Justina and Sasha- I really really liked this tango. I’m not sure if I would’ve given it a 10, because there were definite issues with her frame throughout. But, it was a huge improvement over their last one, so I’m okay with it. She wasn’t hopping throughout the dance and there was a difference in the way she embodied it that I just liked more. Maybe it was the lack of the character thrown on top of a dance that already has a distinct built in character. As for their contemporary, it was very pretty. I don’t care much for that style, but the perfect score was well deserved. 

4. Nelly and Daniella- Like everyone else tonight, Nelly definitely brought his A-game. That paso was a huge improvement from the first time that he did it. There was way more artistry this time around. He was shaping properly minus a few moments. He was smooth and intentional. It was actually very good. His feet still need work, but this was a very nice dance. I liked that Daniella left his shirt off because we really got to see all of the shaping. He is also very nice to look at lol. I honestly felt like this could have been a very solid 27. I could even see Bruno throwing in a 10 because of how attentive he was to the smaller details of this dance. As for the jive, this was actually the dance where I felt Nelly was most at ease. To me, this was their best dance of the season. That final gear that I could sense they hadn’t tapped into yet, was finally realized. Now from the way a lot of the fans were talking, you’d think this dance was a disaster. But it was far from it. He messed up the choreography a few times, so I don’t think it should’ve gotten a 30. But it was no less than a 27. Everything else he did was actually really good. Daniella put in a lot of content into this dance and he really nailed it. Also, recently there have been a ton of dances that were given perfect scores that may not have deserved them (including a few this season). So I don

5. Kaitlyn and Artem- Their paso was a definite improvement over the first time they did it. And I think it was technically the best dance of the first round. However, I still wasn’t feeling it. It was still too restrained for my liking. And while Derek tried to explain it away by saying that was the character of the dance, I just can’t let that slide.Their contemporary was beautiful though. By the time we got to their dance, I was all contemporary’d out because it was the last of three. So I didn’t appreciate it as much at first. But upon my second and third viewing of it, I actually really liked it. Everything that I had wanted from her in the paso and the Argentine tango was sitting right in this dance. I wish she had taken some of that and put it into those two dances as well. I might’ve actually been able to truly get behind her.

6. Nev and Jenna- Their foxtrot was an improvement but like my feeling with Kaitlyn, I just didn’t care. It was good. I don’t feel anything when he dances. It feels very hollow. His contemporary was nice but of the three contemporaries, I liked it the least. It didn’t really stand out. It was there. It was good. Perfect even. I wasn’t all that impressed though. I wish he would stop lying about his dance experience. 

So that’s it. Let me know your thoughts on the night and I will talk to you all soon.

#dancing with the stars #DWTS #skai jackson #johnny weir #Justina Machado #Nelly #kaitlyn bristowe #Nev Schulman #jenna johnson #artem chigvintsev #daniella karagach #sasha farber #Britt Stewart #alan bersten #season 29